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jpitha · 1 year

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Just a Little Further 30

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29

We sent the Venusians home today.

We left them enough thruster to travel to the Gate and traverse, enough environmental systems to keep them alive - so long as they stuck to their quarters and the Command Deck - and... that was mostly it. Oh, we did take the entirety of their weapons. I even had their weapon lockers stripped. We now have a good supply of high quality rifles and small arms. I gave a few to Sep and asked them duplicate them and begin training. I also promised to stop by later and give some tips in the finer points of their operation.

When I saw their faces when they saw what I was sending them home in, I admit I cackled just a teeny bit. We made sure it was survivable and they won't be injured, but their ship looks like a joke. Large pieces are missing from the hull, whole rooms exposed to vacuum, the thrusters we left them are undersized for what would normally be used, and so on. I imagine they are going to have an... interesting time going through joint human/K'laxi space.

The wormhole generator was destroyed in the explosion, so they can't link home, so what they'll do after they reach human space an the end of the Gates is a bit of a mystery. They won't be trapped though, there are plenty of human Starbases or colonies they could reach via the Gates and ask someone to link a beacon to Venus so they could get a ride the rest of the way.

They don't use AIs at all either. Their ships run with only human crews, so it's not like we left some poor AI behind to drag their own corpse home. It's just a ship.

Well, it's 65% or so of a ship.

As for Raaden and Emery, I did wind up going with the option Ava and I discussed. We found an empty apartment building that was close - but not directly next to - the Royal Dawn. It had two empty apartments and we put Raaden, and Emery in separate apartments quite a long distance from each other. The apartments are guarded all hours of the day, and meals are sent up.

It feels like I just stuffed them into a corner and are trying to forget about them, and I guess I did, but I that's what having hostages is sometimes. I'm trying to make sure they're comfortable and well taken care of. Emery has seemed to accept his lot. He mostly reads and sketches. When he asked for art supplies he seemed excited when we brought him paper and pencils that were native to the Reach. He spends his time looking out the window and sketching what he sees. I've seen a few of them; the drawings are actually quite lovely. I have a feeling he's pretty used to being stuck in a corner somewhere and told to entertain himself.

Raaden... hasn't accepted her lot so easily. She's tried to escape twice already and the only thing that has prevented it was her unfamiliarity with the locks. After the second attempt I had to use my Voice to make her stop trying to break out. Now she just sits in her apartment and alternates between seething and sulking. I almost wish we had a hibernation cabinet to put her into. She'd be less of a problem if she was just on ice the whole time.

Wait a moment. I wonder if Omar can print one? I'm sure there are plans for one in the printer database we got from FarReach. I should ask.

Ginny we put up in the Royal Dawn. Not right near our rooms, but in a room in the hotel. I did use my Voice to order her not to talk to Raaden and Emery and to not have any contact with Venus without our permission, but she knew why and accepted the order.

Yes, we did decide to let Ginny stay. Of all of the people we interviewed she was the only one who actually wanted to be here. Everyone else was indifferent to it or was being actively ordered to be here. That was what finally convinced Ava, Omar, Um'reli and Starlight. We won't give her the Builder package for a long time, if ever, but that still doesn't mean we don't need the help. We don't have her doing much right now, but she is shadowing Sound of the City and they love that they have a helper and someone they get to show the Reach. Maybe I'll take her with us when we go to the Wilds of Besmara. She might enjoy that.

I'm just finishing up breakfast in the Royal Dawn when Omar comes in. "Melody, what are we going to do with all the parts we took from the Lavinia?"

I can't help myself. "Put them on a Starship, Omar."

"Melody. Which Starship? High Line and Sun Dancer are done. We'd have to put them back into the dock to add things to them, Immar IV isn't done, but do we want to put all the parts on that one?"

Ah I see. If we put the Venusian parts on High Line or Sun Dancer, then that delays how long before we can go to the Wilds of Besmara.

"Let's keep them off High Line and Sun Dancer for now. I do want to go to the Wilds now that we've dealt with Venus. Once we're back and Immar IV is done, why don't we start construction on a whole new ship?"

"A whole new ship?" Omar sits down at my breakfast table and looks off into the middle distance, thinking. "Yes, we could do it. I think we have a handle on how things work now. We would add the Venusian parts, of course. That would save a lot of time. I'd make a dreadnought of our own - smaller than the Venus or other human ones - but it would still pack a punch."

"See? What a great idea I had." I'm laughing, but I mean it. I think it's high time we make our own Starships. I wish we had more printers, we could really get production going, but it's not like we need a whole fleet right away. Slow and steady progress is fine.

"Omar, do you want to pilot High Line when we take it over to the Wilds? I want to go next week, and we need to figure some things out. You piloted it during the shakedown, but this will be our first Gate traversal since we came here."

"Yes, I'd like to drive if you're okay with that. We should have the others take a turn so we all get experience with it - it's different than being the Reach - but for now, I'll take us over. Who is going to come? We should probably leave at least one Builder here."

"I agree. I wanted you and Ava and Starlight to come, and we can let Um'reli run things while we're away. I want Ginny to come too."

Omar breaks his reverie. "Ginny? Why?"

"I want to show her she's not a prisoner like Raaden and Emery. She was the only one who wanted to be here. Might as well start treating her like that. Plus, we could use a reactor tech on High Line."

"You make a good point. Fine. Ginny can come too. We don't really need much of anyone else. With Builder systems I can run most of High Line from the chair. I wonder if it feels the same when an AI runs a ship? I'm doing a similar role."

"I don't know. If we ever get back to our side of the Galaxy we should ask." I really find lately I'm missing stuff from home. I hope once were done visiting some Starbases on this side we can go home, just for a visit. "I'd like to open up some lines of trade too. I bet people over there would like some of our foodstuffs and I sure could use some coffee." I looked wistfully at my cup of tea on the table. I hadn't had coffee since talking with the Venusians. I was trying to save what little she had for special occasions, but it's so hard!

"One thing at a time, Melody. Let's do see if we can figure out what happened at the Wilds. Then, see if we can find any other Starbases or colonies. We could finish the exploration that FarReach abandoned."

I looked up at Omar in surprise. "That's it. We can continue the mission! Just because FarReach declared Captain Q'ari unfit and left doesn't mean that there isn't good things to learn out here." I jumped up and gave Omar a hug. "Thanks Omar. It really helps to talk things out sometimes."

"No problem Melody, glad to help."

I leave the Royal Dawn and start walking towards the Throne, thinking while I walk.

We're going to go to the Wilds of Besmara with the refurbished High Line and see what's up. Last time we went there was some kind of field that grabbed FarReach and started to pull it in. Maybe it was an overzealous landing field? I don't know. Either way, if it happens again, I think we want to let it take us in.

Also, that warning. I know now it was in the Voice, but it was over radio which - for me at least - commands in the Voice don't work. I wonder how it was in the Voice, I thought that was just an Empress thing. Maybe it was a recording? All these mysteries. We just have to go and find out for ourselves.

I take a long way to the Throne and say hello to people as I walk. When I first got here, people were so frightened of us, but now people tell me hello, they give me little bits of news from their world, I even get to meet families! More than once I've been told how nice it is that I was able to increase the food deliveries. As plain old Melody I was often intimidated making small talk with people and would try and avoid it, but when I'm Empress, I find it's much easier. It almost feels like I'm pretending to be the Empress; like it's a persona to put on and take off. When I'm with Ava in our room I'm just Melody, but when the gown comes on and I walk around I'm The Empress.

It's hard to explain. I wish I knew more people that had gone though this to see if it's normal. I guess, when you're the only Empress around, anything you do is normal, by virtue of the fact that you're the one doing it.

I make my way to the Throne and settle in. Ava, Um'reli and Starlight are there already. I can feel Um'reli and Ava showing Starlight how to work things.

"See Starlight, if you just look... over here... you can see the transit network."

"Yes, yes, I see. It looks like we have the trains on schedule and... wait, what's that one on that siding?"

"That's Melody's Royal Transport. She likes to use it when she feels like showing off, or if she needs to get somewhere after hours or when things are too busy to wait for a scheduled train."

Mentally, I look up at them "I don't use it to show off. I use it when I want to make an entrance."

"Okay, so when Emp-Melody's not showing off, she stores it over here?" I smile to myself when I hear the smirk in Starlight's tone. When I made them a builder, I let them call me Melody. I decided it would be weird for Ava, Um'reli and Omar to call me Melody, but Starlight has to call me Empress, and I didn't want to make everyone call me Empress as well, so Builder Starlight can call me Melody. They're still getting used to it.

"Um'reli, you're okay with staying here and running things while the rest of us go to the Wilds of Besmara to see what happened to them?"

"Sure Melody, it's fine. I have reports to go over on reactor efficiency. We have enough of a power surplus now we should look at taking down the reactors one at a time for refurbishment. I don't think it's ever been done!"

"What do you mean, take the reactor down for refurbishment?" Starlight looks curious as Um'reli and I talk.

"So, at least with our reactors, they need regular maintenance. We usually build our systems with enough overhead that they can run with one whole reactor down so we can work on it, or if one fails we can swap it out without inconveniencing anyone. Before we got here, the Reach had enough power, but I wouldn't have dreamed of shutting a reactor off. Now, I think we can turn one off, make sure it's in good condition and then turn it back on, move on to the next and so on."

"That's impressive, Builder Um'reli. You have found so many ways to improve efficiency."

"Just Um'reli is fine, you're a Builder now too, remember. But, thank you. I enjoy working with the reactors. I hope we can get Ginny up and helping us too, it will be useful to have someone else - someone who actually took some training on this and isn't just an enthusiastic amateur - take a look at things."

"Okay, good. Omar is going to drive, I'll sit in the Command chair, Ava can monitor systems, Starlight can let us know if there's anything we're missing with local information and Ginny is coming along to prove to her that she's not just another hostage like Raaden and Emery."

Ava looks up from the report she's reading. "I like it Melody, it seems like a good plan. Ugh, I wish there was something we could do about Raaden. I don't trust her as far as I could throw her."

"I know! I was thinking about it on the walk over. What if we printed a hibernation cabinet for her? I know that Starjumpers carry them, and that FarReach used to be one so I assume their printer database has the plans."

"Actually, I think that could work. Let's ask Omar how tough it would be to print one up. On the one hand, I don't like the idea of just sticking her in a closet until we decide what to do with her, but on the other... I don't know what to do with her. She'll never trust us, and we can never trust her."

"Exactly."

Starlight looks like they are warring with themselves over something. After a moment, a decision is made. "Melody, why did you keep her anyway? If it was me in charge, I would have declared her culpable for Rapid River Roaring's death and had them executed."

Now everyone is looking at me. "Starlight, for right now, she's worth more to us alive than dead. If we killed her and sent the Venusians home with their ship stripped and them humiliated they would have come right back with all their dreadnoughts and just fired upon us as soon as they traversed the Gate. No radio, no opportunity to use the Voice on them, just kaboom. This way, with Raaden, their Archduke and Crown Prince Emery, they have to think twice about whether to come in guns hot or not."

"Ah, I see. Yes Melody. You are making it so that we are too valuable to outright destroy. But, what do we do when they want their crown prince and their archduke back? Or worse, what if they don't want them back?"

My shoulder slump. "I don't know yet. As soon as we figure out a deal and we give them Raaden and Emery they don't have a reason to not come in and destroy us."

Starlight's eyes are bright. "Well then. We just need to be better armed then they are by then. We can then repel them the regular way."

"Hah. That's the best idea I've heard so far Starlight. For now, we'll go with that plan. Once we come back from the Wilds, Omar was going to look into building a dreadnought from the parts we... liberated from Venus. Do you know of any Aviens plans for large warships?"

"Actually, yes. I believe we have some plans for a ship like that. We should try and reach out to more of my people. Ever since our ancestors were trapped here, we have not heard from any other of our kind."

"Starlight, I was wondering, what did trap you and the Mariens and others here all those years ago?" Um'reli and Ava look up at Omar's question. I guess we were all wondering it.

"I wish I knew Omar. My parent's parents were the original ones left here, but they wouldn't talk about it. From what I can gather, there was... a war, or something like it. The last Builders left the Reach to... do... something and never returned. My parent's parents did mention that the first few years after the Builders left were very difficult."

"Another mystery to solve then. I want to get going. Hey Omar, do you think you can print a hibernation cabinet?"

"Probably Melody, what for?"

"For Raaden. I just don't trust her to be awake and around while we leave to do explore the Wilds of Besmara. I was thinking of putting her in a cabinet and sticking her on board in hibernation. Crown Prince Emery seems fine, we could probably leave him here under guard."

"Melody that's brilliant! We don't have to deal with her trying to escape and we can carry her around as a kind of... talisman against Venus attacks. You just have to get her into it."

"Leave that part to me."

It actually only takes Omar a few hours to print the hibernation cabinet. When you have printers that can make a whole starship in a few weeks, one small hibernation cabinet is hardly a feat. It comes out gleaming and white, looking like a long lozenge or pill from the medical department. On the top is a clear window to see the face of the resident and on the side is a small readout of vitals. I ask Omar to let me borrow some people, and an Aviens and Azurian wheel the cabinet behind me as we walk.

In front of the apartment complex it's clear that the cabinet is much too large to bring up to Raaden's room. "Wait here please. I will be down with them in a moment."

Upstairs, I nod to the guards and knock on the door before opening it. "Raaden, come here please."

"Go to hell mmmmmm-Empress."

I don't have time for this. "F̷̗͝o̸͔͌l̷̺̊l̴̨̃o̶̦̾w̵̡͠ ̶͔͘m̷̢̒ē̵̬.̸̹̊ Raaden." She gets up out of the other room and robotically walks to me. Her eyes radiate hatred, but she follows none the less.

We get to the bottom floor and I open the door to leave and she catches a glimpse of the cabinet. Raaden's eyes go wide and the snarl of hatred on her face is replaced with a new emotion.

Terror.

"No! No no no no! You're not going to put me in one of those! Please! Please Empress! Don't put me in a hibernation cabinet! I won't escape! Please! Don't put me in there!"

I stop and turn, surprised. "What? Why not Raaden? It's just a hibernation cabinet. It's brand new. Omar printed it up from our copy of FarReach's printer database. It's not even a local design, it's one of ours."

She's standing in the doorway, shaking. She is legitimately terrified of the hibernation cabinet. "I-I-Its a form of punishment in Imperial Venus. For people who have... displeased the Emperor. A person is placed into the hibernation cabinet and then they... manipulate the settings. They change the person's sense of the passage of time. A day can feel like centuries."

You know, I actually feel bad for Raaden right now. That sounds like a horrible punishment.

"Raaden, I'm not going to manipulate your perception of time. We're going to run you deep enough that you won't have any perception of time passing. It'll be just like when people were put in cabinets for Starjumper trips before the wormhole generators. You'll go in, and then you'll awaken on Venus when we've worked out the details with the Emperor."

"Possibly, or else I'll never wake up for my failure. Or worse, I will but it will be after ten thousand years subjective and I'm a gibbering mess. Empress, I am actually begging you." She gets down on her knees in the door way and bows down "Please. Please. Don't put me in hibernation. I will literally do anything else." She puts her head up and her cheeks are wet with tears and she's shaking. She whispers. "Please, don't."

I... I can't. It's too cruel. I look at her and try and concentrate. Is she just acting? No. I think she is completely terrified of going into hibernation.

Ugh.

I sit on the cabinet and reach out to my Builders. "Hey. Raaden is like, wet her pants terrified of going into hibernation. She's literally begging me not to do it."

Is it a put on, is she just really good at acting?

I don't think so. My heightened body language processing says she's being honest.

Just order her to do it anyway, use your Voice.

Doesn't that seem unnecessarily cruel to you? We'd be leveraging a legitimate phobia just to make things easier on us. She'd never forgive us.

You still think she'll forgive us?

Hey, we have a responsibility to treat our prisoners humanely, and that includes not torturing them. This would be torture for her.

They wouldn't have the same consideration of us.

All the more reason for us to treat her better.

Okay then, what do we do with her?

Take her with us.

WHAT?

Take her with us. She'll still be on board, I can order her around with the Voice and we'll still bring the cabinet. If she causes trouble I'll order her into it and we'll be done with it. This is her chance to show us how much she doesn't want to be in the cabinet.

Or for her to show us how good of an actor she is.

Ava, I'm pretty sure she's not acting.

Ugh fine. She can come. Let me get a room ready and strengthen the locks on it.

Thanks Omar.

I look up. Raaden has gotten up from the floor but her eyes are still wide with fear. She is working very hard to control it, but fear of the cabinet is still very strong. She truly is terrified of being put into it.

"Raaden. I won't put you into the hibernation cabinet."

As I complete the sentence, her body relaxes and she starts breathing heavily.

"Yet."

She tightens up and holds her breath again.

"You're coming with us on the High Line to explore the Wilds of Besmara. I need insurance against Venus, and if you won't get into the cabinet then you'll come along. I will also bring the cabinet so if you cause us even a small amount of trouble I will just order you into the cabinet and be done with it."

I narrow my eyes and meet her gaze, "Do you understand?"

She stands straight and tall and matches my gaze, looking me in the eyes. "I will not betray you, nor will I attempt to escape, nor will I sabotage any aspect of your mission. So long as it keeps me out of that thing, I will be good."

"See that you do." I jump off the cabinet and gesture to my helpers. "Bring this to High Line. Omar will show you were to put it. "C̵͖͋o̷̤̒m̶͉̍e̶̩͛ ̶̰̎R̷͈̅ä̵̮å̷̡d̴͍̒e̶̙͝n̷̬̓.̶̀ͅ, I will bring you back to your apartment."

She follows me without struggling this time. I stop at the entry to her apartment. "We'll be back tomorrow morning. Do you have any requests for food or drink onboard?"

She blinks. "You're asking my opinion?"

"Well yes. You're going to be onboard with us for at least a week, if not more. You deserve to have some input."

She runs her hand through her close cropped hair, surprised. "Uh, I don't like coffee, so don't bother giving me any. I know you love the stuff, so don't waste any on me."

Oh nice. More coffee for me then. "Thank you. We'll be by tomorrow after breakfast."

She nods and moves to close the door. "Until then."

After the door closes and I lock it, I look at the guards and they acknowledge me. "Empress" they both say, and then face forward, silently.

Part 31

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #humans go on adventure #humans are space oddities #sci fi writing #writing #humans and ai #humans and aliens #the k'laxiverse #jpitha #just a little further

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bucketsofmonsters · 1 year

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The Shapeshifting Detective - Part 6

cw: parental death, grief, referenced murder, referenced cheating, slow burn, more tags will be added as the story continues

male shapeshifter x fem character

word count: ~4k

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8

She spent the next few hours cleaning every single bouquet out of the house. It was a massacre, a path of destruction left in her wake.

A familiar voice halted her floral reign of terror. “What in the hell are you doing?”

She turned to look at Anne’s bewildered face. “Saving our lives, apparently,” she replied, moving to throw another destroyed bouquet into a bucket.

She wrestled the bouquet out of Kate’s hands. “I think you need to sit down, rest a little. I don’t even know how you’re still going, you’ve gotta be running on fumes, I think some rest might clear all this up.”

“I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were. Just that maybe destroying all these flowers isn’t the best use of your time.”

“No, they need to be gone,” Kate insisted. “I need them to be gone, I need to fix this, I need to fix something.”

“Hey, that’s not your job. It’ll all patch itself up, it just needs time. Come on, let’s just stop fighting, please lie down for a bit.”

Kate stood stock still, refusing to follow Anne’s gentle lead.

“How’s my mother been,” she prodded, her whole body tensing as she spoke.

“She’s been your mother. Props to that woman, she sure can put on a show. If I didn’t know better I’d think she was grieving.”

“Maybe she is. Somewhere, deep down in there.

A dry laugh escaped Anne. “C’mon, you don’t really believe that.”

“It’s not that absurd.”

“After what happened between him and Theresa I doubt it but who knows, I suppose anything is possible.”

Everything else came to a halt as Kate processed the comment. “Anne, how do you know about that?”

“How do I… Oh god, yeah, I didn’t have time to tell you, everything’s been so chaotic. I caught them together, I’m the one who told your mom.”

“You did what?”

“I don’t know, I have no real loyalty to either of your parents but it just didn’t seem fair. I kept imagining that she was you. You would want to know, you always want to know everything. She has so little control over anything here, I thought I could at least give her that. She seemed so calm after I told her.”

“What did she do then?”

“I’m not sure, I wasn’t there for the rest of it but I can guess.”

Kate reeled back. “Why wouldn’t you tell me”

“I thought you already knew.”

She said it like it was obvious, like Kate was a fool for not seeing it sooner. Maybe she was.

“About the cheating?” Kate asked, despite knowing that wasn’t what they were talking about, not anymore. She’d keep dancing around the question right until Anne said it, just like she’d been doing since this all began. It couldn’t be her, anyone but her.

“No, about your mother being deeply suspicious in all of this. Come on, don’t pull this, you must’ve known. I mean, if it wasn’t you, who else was here? Who else could’ve hidden it this well? She was already lying about every emotion she’s ever had, I’m sure the whole grief thing wasn’t hard to do. You reacted like a person, like a weird and misguided grieving person who I’m worried about, but a person nonetheless. She’s performing her own one woman play like always, there’s no real grief in there. There’s no way you’re just finding out about this, you’re smarter than that. I mean, I don’t know for sure but you must’ve been suspicious. All of the staff here were, we see what she’s like, how much they hated each other.”

Kate responded by doing the only thing she seemed to be capable of lately. She got angry.

“This is motive, I needed to know this!”

“It’s no more of a motive than everything that was already between them, she’d be just as suspicious without this, half the time I saw them talking I thought she might stab him. She didn’t even seem like she gave a shit. If anything I’m sure she was relieved that she was seeing less of him.”

“You knew I was investigating, why wouldn’t you say something.”

“Did I know that? Because what I remember is you refusing to tell me what you were doing! When was I even supposed to tell you, when you were refusing to talk to me or when you were actively running from me? I didn’t know anything, maybe if you had told me I could’ve helped.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“What happened to you Kate, why won’t you let me help you?”

“I don’t need your help,” she snapped, her defensiveness leaving the comment sharper and crueler than it should have been.

“Fine, I’ll get out of your hair then,” she said with a huff before storming off back down the hall.

Kate was left in the dust feeling regret and the distinct sense that she wasn’t sure she liked who she was becoming.

If Kate from a week ago could see her she’d hate her for what she’d just done, for treating her best friend like that. Kate from now wasn’t all too different in that regard.

How could she do this to her only friend, it wasn’t Anne’s fault. She didn’t know who’s fault it was but certainly not hers.

Kate was drawn away from her aimless self-loathing by the sound of someone approaching.

When she looked up and saw Anne’s face she did the only thing she felt she could do. She turned on her heels and she started to pace away from her, desperately wanting to avoid another confrontation, to avoid hurting her anymore than she alread had.

At the sounds of the footsteps growing faster she realized the futileness of the gesture and halted in her tracks, turning to face Anne.

Anne wasn’t quite able to stop fast enough, running right into Kate before her instincts could kick in.

The familiar face gave Kate a sheepish, “Hello. Sorry about that.”

The goofy smile gave him away instantly.

“Christ, Vincent, what is your problem?”

“You were gone for a while, I got worried.”

“Wait, what did you do with Anne?” She asked, looking around frantically, trying to find any clues to where she was.

“Oh, nothing, I just thought it would be easier to hang around here if I looked like this. I can trail around after you easier, I'm practically invisible this way. I still had one of her dresses hidden in a corner from last time I snuck in here, I’m lucky no one moved it.”

“And what if she sees you?”

He shrugged. “We’ll figure it out, how are you doing?”

“How am I doing? Vincent, you cannot be doing this. You need to leave or look normal or something, I don’t know.”

“I’m not leaving you. Now how are you? You’ve done some redecorating I see.”

She followed his gaze down to her dress, which had large wet spots across it, some rogue petals sticking to the damp fabric.

That plus the fact that she hadn’t slept nor fixed herself up after the party, she was sure that she looked even more out of sorts than normal. Or at least, her new normal. Before all of this, she’d been so carefully composed all of the time, her normal was slowly shifting further and further into madness.

“Stop being so reckless,” she insisted. “We can’t fuck this up and you cannot hurt her.”

“I’m not hurting anyone! You’re the one going around knocking people out, I haven’t hurt anybody!” he responded defensively.

“No one is knocking Anne out.”

“Agreed,” he responded with an eager nod. “Do you know what would reduce the possibility of running into her? If we stepped out for a minute, maybe went somewhere else and talked this through.”

“Oh, fuck you. You’re not taking me anywhere, I’m going to see her.” She’d begun storming off towards her mother’s room before she even finished speaking.

Vincent kept pace with her. He never actually tried to hold her back, never touched her at all, but that didn’t mean he stopped trying to get her to leave. His protests continued ceaselessly until Kate stormed into her mother’s room and finally, his arguments trailed off, eyes darting between the pair.

Kate’s mother rose from her chair, brows furrowed as she got a good look at the state Kate was in.

“Do you have no self respect?” she asked.

She was so focused on her daughter's attire that she entirely missed Kate glaring daggers at her.

“Tell me you didn’t do it.” Kate managed to spit out, no time for niceties. “I’ve been defending you, saying you wouldn’t do that to yourself. Tell me I was right.”

She had the audacity to roll her eyes at the accusation. “Your father was a horrible man.”

It wasn’t a confession or a denial. She said it like it was a fact and in a way, it was. It was certainly a fact that her mother believed that, she had known that as long as she’d known anything.

“Tell me you didn’t.”

“I can if you want me to. Would that make it better?”

Kate shook her head. “Please be honest with me, just this once. Just give me that.”

She refused, staring Kate down, her head tilting to the side. “What is this, why are you doing this now?”

Kate wouldn’t back down. She would get her answers. She’d earned that much. “Why did you do it? Because he slept with someone else? Get over yourself, since when did you give a shit about his loyalty?”

“You know I never cared about that, don’t kid yourself.”

“Then why did you do it? Why did you ruin everything?”

“You think I ruined everything? Do you know what he did? He blamed me. He said it was my fault he was unhappy, if only I’d been a better wife. Do you know how fucking miserable I’ve made myself being perfect? But no, it was my fault. And when I picked up that letter opener, and he said I wouldn’t do it because I’d get nothing, because he’d made absolutely certain I would be ruined and penniless, I couldn’t do anything else. He took everything from me and told me it was my fault and then he looked me in the eye and he dared me to do it. How’s that for honesty? You want to say everything that’s wrong here is my fault? Fine. But you do not get to say that your father was anything but an awful man.”

She looked back at her mother and felt nothing. No sense of victory or justice, no real answers, just endless questions and an all encompassing emptiness in her chest.

She didn’t get the chance to ask them. Her mother was on a roll now, turning both defensive and spiteful in one fell swoop as she saw Kate’s breathing turn ragged and tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

“Someday,” she insisted, “you will marry someone you hate in pursuit of happiness you will never stop chasing. You can’t judge me, I’ve seen the suitors you pursue. You’re no better than I am. I’ll be happier as a widow than I ever could be with your father and someday, when you've had enough of this shit, you’ll understand. And on that day, when your daughter is looking at you like you’re a monster, then you can judge me.”

“I would never do what you did.”

Even as she said it she knew there was no real conviction behind those words. If her mother couldn’t live this life and come out intact, no one could.

In one fell swoop, her mother had taken her past and her future from her. There was nothing, nowhere she could go, no one she could turn to. She’d turn her mother in and then, in however many years, she would turn into her mother.

“You’ll see,” her mother insisted. “You’re already heading towards the same marriage I was in.”

“And my father was the only one trying to protect me from that, not you.”

“I couldn’t protect you,” she tried to reason. “I could barely keep myself afloat.”

“I will tell Daniel to leave you to rot. You have nothing unless I marry up and I will not save you.” Tears ran down her face as she screamed, all the emotions she’d felt were missing boiling over.

“Fine. Take revenge however you’d like. I’ve gotten mine, I suppose it is your turn.”

She sniffled, trying to keep herself composed as best she could. “How could you take him from me?” she asked, her voice cracking as she squeezed the words out of her lungs.

“You don’t understand,” her mother dismissed, a look of defeat crossing her face.

“I do! I understand just how isolated you were and he was the only thing keeping me from that and you took him.”

“Katherine, not everything is about you.”

Kate had practically forgotted than Vincent was in the room at all, everything other than her mother fading away. That was until Vincent snapped.

“Not about her?” he yelled. “What the fuck do you mean not about her? Have you seen her, seen what you did to her? Or have you been too caught up in your own little performance to notice how you have destroyed your daughter. You’re supposed to protect her! But instead you ruined her life and left her alone to pick up the pieces and now you have the audacity to act like she is in the wrong for what, being upset? For trying to help?”

She’d never heard him this angry, never heard him be angry at all.

Her mother reeled back like she’d been slapped. “How dare you involve yourself in this, girl.”

Kate positioned herself between them defensively. “You leave them alone.”

“Katherine, please…”

“No, I’m done listening. You’re not getting away with this, I will make you pay for what you did to him.”

“I tried to get you to understand,” she said. The words sounded like they were more for her sake than for Katerine’s. “I really did.”

And then her mother screamed.

She couldn’t help but feel that this is what she should have sounded like. When she found her father on the floor over a pool of blood. When she realized there was nothing she could do, he was already gone. When she got up in a daze and alerted the nearest person she could find before returning to his side.

This was the kind of scream you made when you found out something awful. This was the kind of scream she should have made, horrified and afraid and earnest.

And now it was directed at her.

She couldn’t make sense of it, couldn’t understand what her mother was doing. She felt like she was floating again, that distant feeling from that night invading her once more.

She barely felt it when Vincent grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the room, barely noticed the setting quickly changing.

Eventually they stopped running and she looked around. She was presented with familiar surroundings, seeing that same warehouse where she’d found out his secret.

“Why did you take me here?” she asked, her voice low and wispy.

“She was going to blame it on you. We had to get you out of there, they won’t believe you over her.”

“They’d believe you. Well, not like this,” she said, waving her hand at his appearance, at Anne standing in front of her. “But as Harvey they would.”

“I know. But you deserve some time to think before I do anything.”

“What is there to think about? You heard her, she did it.”

“She did. Now what do you want to do about that?”

It felt like an absurd question. “I want justice.”

“Justice won’t bring him back, it’s what you want that matters. I wanted to give you time to think, to consider if you were ready to lose both parents''

She shook her head. “I’ve already lost my mother.”

“It’s up to you, you have all the power here.”

“You’re trying to save your friend arent you?” Kate snapped. “Arrest her, that’s what you came here to do. Arrest her, save Evelyn, and then fucking leave.”

“It’s about more than that now.”

“Why? I don’t know you! I don’t know jack shit about you, why are you helping me?”

“Beacuse… I don’t know, because you needed it. Because no one else was helping you and you needed it and you were all alone.

“I didn’t need you. I don’t need you. I’m fine on my own, I’ve always been fine on my own, I have to be fine on my own.”

She collapsed onto the floor, unable to hold herself up any longer. Her skirts pooled around her, the ones from that same fancy dress from the ball that felt like it took place years ago.

She barely noticed when Vincent skuried away behind some of the crates.

When he reappeared he was Harvey once more, in clothes even more crumpled than normal. He was holding out something to her and all at once she realized it was Anne’s dress.

“Here,” he said. “It’s better than that one, more practical. More comfortable too.”

Changing seemed like a herculean task so instead she held it close. It reminded her of Anne.

“I’m sorry,” she called out. “I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve anything I’ve done to you.”

He settled down next to her and rested a gentle hand on her forearm, tentative and soft as if looking for the smallest sign that his touch was unwanted. He didn’t question her cradling the dress like it was something priceless.

She leaned into his touch, the sense of connection more than welcome right now. He was so warm and gentle and so very kind. She felt as if he was the only thing holding her together anymore, like she wanted to wrap herself up in his arms forever and let him keep her from falling apart.

After a moment of thought he replied, “I have a big family. 14 older siblings. I was always the runt of the family, the littlest, the weakest.”

It sounded amazing, that many people in a house. “I always wanted siblings.”

“Well, you can take some of mine if you want them. I think my parents stopped having kids because of me, because I let them down that badly. I was bad at everything, none of my siblings would give me the time of day. It was like they thought I would rub off on them, make them unlovable too. ”

“You’re not unlovable.”

“No?”

“No. I think you’re the most lovable person I’ve ever met. I think I might’ve become the angiriest person alive and I still can never stay mad at you.”

She didn’t miss the bashful smile he tried to hide before continuing on. “Well that’s besides the point. The point is, you were there, grieving, and no one was doing anything about it. They were all avoiding you or talking to you like you weren’t even there. So many people and you were still all alone. You know, I figured it wasn’t you pretty fast, I know what someone with no one to turn to looks like.”

She buried her head in her hands, feeling overwhelmed by him, by how tender and caring he continued to be. “You’ve been so kind and all I’ve been so cruel to you.”

He shook his head and made a quiet noise of protest. “Absolutely not. You haven’t been cruel, you’ve been grieving and you’ve been honest. Maybe honesty just feels like cruelty to someone from your world, with your endless, pleasant lies.”

“Maybe. I honestly don’t know how to tell.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“He really was a good man, you know.”

He was caught offguard by the statement. “What?”

“What my mother said. It’s not true, he was a good man. She’s a liar.”

“I don’t know. People contain multitudes, someone can be a good father and a bad husband. The bad doesn’t undo the good but it also doesn’t change your mother’s life. He probably wasn’t a good man or a bad man. He was just a man.”

“I know. He still didn’t deserve this.”

“Of course he didn’t.”

“You know what? Neither did she.”

He spoke softly as he added with a quiet determination, “And neither do you.”

Kate nodded, terrified to say the words out loud, scared to admit that maybe she did deserve better. Maybe they all did.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” she managed to choke out. “That was all that was propelling me forwards, it was all I had. I needed to solve it, I needed to fix it, and now I’ve solved it and nothing is fixed and I don’t know what to do.”

“Just rest. Please, rest. We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

He picked up a blanket from the floor, shifting it around her shoulders and pulling her into his side, arm wrapped around her, holding her.

If his hand on her arm was reassuring, she wasn’t sure what to call this. All she knew was it felt real and safe and those were two things she didn’t want to let go of.

For the first time in a very long time, Kate managed to sleep through the night.

#the shapeshifting detective #terato #monster bf #monster boyfriend #monster x human #shapeshifter #Big Important Chapter #Sorry it took so long squad

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ellestra · 9 months

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Better without action scenes

I waited a week to write down my thoughts about the Secret Invasion and I'm still not sure what they are. There were moments when I almost liked the show but then they were instantly squandered by some baffling and incomprehensible decisions.

It's one of those shows so hellbent on keeping its viewers guessing it becomes impossible to either track or care what is happening.

Peple concentrate on the things like bad CGI or boring fights but the truth is bad special effects never really stop people from engaging with a story (see Doctor Who or puppet shows). You will suspend disbelief if you want as long as the story is engaging enough. As long as you follow emotional journeys and plotlines. When they become all scrambled by trying to shock the viewer it all falls apart.

MCU uses to be really good at remembering that but recently they are slacking. It becomes an exercises of going from one cool idea to another cool idea but the connection between them seems to drawn by crayons.

Like everything between Fury and his wife was great. The history between them, the love, the hurt, the distrust and the longing was played beautifully and it was easy to believe it was always there throughout MCU even if we saw her the first time in second episode of this series.

Same with Talos when you can feel both the decade long friendship and all the times it failed. And generally a lot of word battles work great Fury with Rhodey and with Grvik and with Sonia (even if the final one is undermined by it not being Fury there).

But then you have everything that fails and most of it is plot. The need to keep us guessing leads to lack of proper set up of many of the plot points and then half of them is just dropped or leads to nothing. Like Skrull Council was pointless, so was New Skrullos, and so were the deaths in the end. The show introduces characters that seem important but they get couple of scenes that were so underwhelming you ask why even waste time on them - Pagan, Beto, Sonya's boss (what a waste of Tony Curran - again) etc.

What was the point of the rebellion against Gravik beside death of all those Skrulls he recruited? I'm sure the idea was something about him also selling false promises and then disposing of people he used just like he says Fury does but the show did absolutely nothing to sell it. Also the whole plan of killing 8 billion people so 1 (one!) million Skrulls have somewhere to live is ridiculous. Just like there being no other place in universe for them. One million is so little. With Superskrulls they could've just find themselves their own Knowhere.

It's worst with G'iah who is so enigmatic a character and the show tries to keep so many things about her in the is she or isn't she limbo there is no real sense of why she does anything. She seems to be close to Gravik but also not. She switches side to work for her father again but doesn't believe in him (she's right - his plan is one a teenager would thought out not a gown man who saw how humanity reacts to refugees for decades). She dies, she lives, she gets superpowers and the most reaction we get to all of it is when she is with Priscilla. Both her parents are dead. Everyone she believed in failed her and you can barely tell what she thinks about it. Or what she wants. She's just there. And I'm not blaming Emilia Clarke for it. I blame the show for trying to hide so much about her she ends up with no character at all.

They try to shock us with death of important characters like 4-5 times (Rhodey doesn't really count I suppose) with like half of those being fake out but instead of being shocked I ended up being just angry. Neither loss of Maria Hill nor Talos really did that much to make the story more poignant. It didn't even do that much for Fury's character development (his talks to Varra were much better at this). It all just left bad taste in my mouth. And the constant so who is really dead dead didn't help either. And the show doesn't properly emotionally engage with those deaths so neither do ewe as viewers.

For me the most ridiculous isn't the big battle but when Fury changes clothes in the mausoleum. It supposed to be this badass moment of him regaining his mojo or something but it just underwhelming. Like the whole show.

The less said about Ritson the better.

In the end my favourite parts where the ones with Olivia Coleman. This show justified its existence by introducing Sonya Falsworth and I'm actually looking forward to her and G'iah working together in the future.

#secret invasion #mcu #nick fury #varra #priscilla davies #g'iah #talos #gravik #sonya falsworth #james rhodes #skrull #skrulls #marvel

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ellenent · 1 year

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@katana-no-neko okay let me rant for a bit on Octopath Traveler lol

It is not that I totally dislike it, or else I guess I wouldn't have played for 90 hours or so...but I really like JRPGS, so maybe I just don't know when to quit lol But there are a lot of things I didn't like about it. The story, for example: the idea of 8 characters with different stories that would meet and go on adventuring together was really promising, but I don't think it worked well. I expected them to connect with each other or at least have an influence, but no, they just would make some random commentary on each other's story that felt really hollow. Some part of the story also didn't make sense for 8 people being together lol like when they throw someone at a hole, I was like there is no way 8 people (or 4 because of the party) are in there at the same time. The story totally ignores the other characters are there. I was like, is there really a reason for those 8 people to travel together? I don't think so.

Also, not all the stories are good. Some are boring, some are good, some are awful (I'm looking at you Tressa). I think just two felt great, the others were just...there. Several times I questioned myself if the story of the game was just that, since I saw that we had some things unanswered. Some of the side quests were pretty weird too, it was hard to find them and some were like "oh you want me to beat the shit off this person? sure!" because the ability of Olberic was that lol so yeah weird solutions for some problems

The gameplay itself, I had mixed feelings. I like turn based RPGs, but I don't like random encounters. At some point, I was so tired of battling every time I needed just to go somewhere. I think I used an item or something that avoided the monsters, but I don't remember that well anymore, they don't come at the beginning of the game (or at least I didn't find a way to avoid them) The bosses were great, I remember finding them the right amount of difficulty, they were challenging and not that easy. Even if I couldn't beat them, I could grind to level up, and after playing TriStrat, I feel it works best just making the player come up with a good strategy? It feels more rewarding than making a battle so hard you need to level up 5 levels above the recommending level. But the battle system is great, I liked the classes, the abilities, and all.

I tried for 100% of this game and oh boy it was a mistake lol I finished all the eight stories and needed to go after the side quests I missed, so I used a guide to find them. And I was actually surprised to find out the true ending of the game was locked behind a side quest? lol And it felt so...out of nowhere. It was not just one side quest that needed to be done, and they didn't feel like it was important? Anyway, when I got to the Gate of Finis part I was like "I'm sure we can leave this place if needed, right?" Wrong lol I know the game let you know of this, but I had no idea how bad things were there. So if you regret it, there is no way you can leave to buy better equipment or grind more levels You have to fight a harder version of all the bosses you already fought, and it was fun for me (I like boss rushes too). And finally things were connecting! But not what I was expecting to connect, so It was at least surprising. Anyway, each battle took a long time to finish, like 30 minutes for each fight, and that felt kinda bad because I was already tired of this game lol and you couldn't save between battles or anything, so that sucks. You can't close the game, so you must play that part for hours and hours (at least I played the Switch version and you can turn off without closing the game, but still sucks if you want to play something else)

But Galdera was the worst ✨it was so ridiculous hard, it never ended, I was so tired...when I thought I had won the battle (after like 4 hours of trying) they go "oh actually that was phase 1!! Now we're going to phase 2 :)" I had to look it up how to defeat this bitch, but even the guides said "you know maybe this is not worth it". Since I couldn't buy stuff for the characters no more, It felt so frustrating!! I was really close to the true ending but Squre Enix said haha nope it's going to be so hard for nothing yay I know people can beat those bosses in less time, but that would require me to go and grind more and at that part I was just so tired So these were the stuff that didn't work out for me. It's not the worst RPG I played, but sure it's not even close to what I felt like playing TriStrat. When the story of Octopath failed me, Triangle Strategy did excellently; when the battle system tired me on Octopath, in Triangle actually felt great! I don't want to compare more the two since they are pretty different lol

Now, I know Octopath Traveler 2 is a thing. I might give it a chance if they manage to fix the mistakes from the first one, but right now I feel well-fed with Triangle Strategy c:

#also I have some friends that really liked Octopath so I was kinda like “maybe I'm picky lol”#but I actually like really rpgs #even so they are repetitive and boring at some parts #that's just my opinion btw #I'm so glad people enjoyed it more than me #and I still want to play more from Square Enix so yeah #Triangle Strategy was amazing so I still want to play their games #if you ask my opinion on a game I will deliver an essay sorry lol

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onceuponaroast · 2 years

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Things that probably should have made me (and the people around me) suspect that I'm autistic a lot sooner, a non exhaustive list:

1. Adults used to have to translate things I said a lot. I don't mean language-wise, but I used to say things that seemed fine to me but made someone upset. Then an adult would have to step in and clarify, "actually I think she meant (ex)". This even happened somewhat recently when I was at work in 2019. A manager informed a few of us that one of us could go home early and I said "dibs cuz I've been here the longest" what I Meant was I'd been there since 8 and they got there at 10, but someone got upset because she'd been working there a few months longer than I had. The manager (bless her heart) stepped in to clarify

2. One of my moms favorite stories to tell is about my childhood shutdowns. When I was really little (think toddler) sometimes I'd get overwhelmed by noise or visual stimuli or socializing- so I'd completely shut down. I'd cover my ears and eyes, and cower behind the nearest piece of furniture. My mom likes to share this as a cute quirky thing I did.... why no one tried to help I don't know

3. Repeating phrases I heard without knowing what they meant. This is my sister's favorite story. We took a family trip to a petsmart or something during a time when Chinchillas were my special interest. I wasnt allowed to have one, and so when walking past the chinchilla enclosure I saw an ad of some kid holding a chinchilla and felt jealous. So I, at the ripe old age of 6, said "Lucky Bastard" loud enough for other customers to hear. Apparently my dad was Pissed, but neither of my parents could really get mad at me because it was sorta their fault for watching The Big Bang Theory in front of me

4. Refusing to leave my stroller. Honestly if I could still be in a stroller, I would. Not even in a dont-want-to-walk way, but because it's the perfect way to observe the world without having to interact with it. It made noises quieter, shielded me from sunlight, and no one tried to talk to me when I was in it. If I got overwhelmed I could pull the top down and take a nap. A complete win.

5. Getting mad when people were wrong. This sounds rude- and I guess it may have been- but let me explain. One year at summer camp we played some ice breaker game and went around in a circle to say if you were an introvert, extrovert, or somewhere in between. I got So Excited to share a new word I learned, Ambivert! Which means between introvert and extrovert. I was so excited I shared this at the beginning of the circle. Except, people got really annoyed and started pointedly saying "I'm an introverted extrovert" and kinda laughing at me. I got really unreasonably angry, but kept that to myself

6. Speaking of summer camp: daily meltdowns. In my first few years I would get extremely overwhelmed during summer camp. There's no alone time! It's always loud and hot and the food is gross. Similar to my shutdowns when I was really little, around bedtime each night I'd get so overwhelmed I'd go off by myself and just cry for a bit. Eventually some counselor found me and dragged my off to the office to call my parents.

7. Probably the most obvious: being a picky eater. This is self explanatory. My mom tried to give me cheerios exactly once as an infant and I immediately spit it out and threw a tantrum. I haven't touched cherrios or any other cereal since.

8. The safety plush. Teddy is a teddy bear gifted to me by my grandma when I was born. He'll be turning 22 this year and I still sleep with him every night. I think I was probably 10 before I could go a night without him and not have a meltdown. I loved him so much his body started disintegrating and my parents had to try and find a new one. At first I hated the idea of replacing him but my grandma made up some bs about stuffing blood transfusions and that helped and now we have 3 iterations of Teddy.

9. Sensory issues. I took FOREVER to potty train, simply because I could not stand the sound of the toilet flush. It was loud and terrified me. I also hated grass and jumping in fall leaf piles. I would cry when they put me in clothes of a Certain Texture. My mom likes to share the story of my first birthday party where the tradition is to put a birthday cake in front of the baby and let them absolutely destroy it. I wouldn't touch the thing. Frosting is sticky!

10. Last but not least, special interests. Basically from the time I could talk I had a new interest every year that I'd be completely obsessed with. Starting with The Doodlebops, Bob the Builder, and The Wiggles. Then Cinderella, Scooby Doo, and Chinchillas. Once I reached Elementary school and had access to the Library it was OVER. I checked out like 50+ books on the different species of cats within like a two month period

This is not everything! But Autism is not just "rude and doesn't make eye contact"

#autism #actually autistic #late diagnosed autistic #autism pride #and #as always #fuck autism speaks #also id wake people up by literally peeling their eyelids open #and id get so confused why they'd be mad about it #like you're awake??? mission accomplished?#its simple its efficient its effective #fi talks

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survey--s · 10 months

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539.

1. What is something in your life that you feel hopeful about right now? Nothing specific lol. That doesn’t mean life is bad though, just that everything is plodding along as normal ha.

2. What was the last thing you worried about that turned out better than expected? Introducing two dogs together - they got on really well luckily as they’re both unneutered males but luckily they’ve got excellent temperaments.

3. Name somewhere you are planning on visiting in the near future? The only plans I have in the near future are to go to Manchester in October.

4. How often do you go grocery shopping and how much food do you usually get in one go? I get a delivery once a week or so, sometimes every ten days.

5. What is a meal you eat extremely often? Lately, instant ramen or pizza.

6. When was the last time you felt unable or unwilling to speak your mind to someone? I often feel that way with clients lol. There’s such a fine line to tread between being honest and being hurtful.

7. What was the last thing you changed your mind about? What to have for dinner.

8. Who was the last friend you saw, and what did you do together? Susie - we went for iced coffee with the dogs.

9. Who tends to show up in your dreams? Do you ever wonder if you appear in anyone else's dreams? I answered this question in the last survey I took. Word for word.

10. What is something you wish you could say to someone who is no longer in your life, or something you wish they could know? Nothing.

11. Instead of flat earth, what do you think of the simulated earth theory, that we're basically all just a giant computer program or virtual reality? Ha, I don’t believe it but it would make a whole lot of sense sometimes.

12. What worries you most about your future? Getting dementia or cancer.

13. What is something you do to feel better when you're scared? Comfort watch my favourite TV shows.

15. What makes you trust someone? When was the last time someone broke your trust? Just getting to know someone and feeling like they’re a good person, I guess. I don’t remember the last time someone broke my trust.

16. When was the last time you shared a secret with someone, and how did they react? I can’t remember.

17. Are you more likely to give advice or to ask for it? Give advice. I don’t even remember the last time I asked for advice.

18. When was the last time you felt totally lost, figuratively speaking? How about literally? I don’t remember (on both counts).

19. In what ways are you emotionally strong? In what ways are you emotionally weak? I have autism so I either hugely overreact or hugely under-react.

20. What is the strangest book you have ever read? How did you find out about it? The Night Circus was a pretty odd book - amazing though. I found it through a recommendation from a friend called Sara.

21. Do you prefer to watch movies or tv alone or with other people? Is there anything you refuse to watch alone? Alone, for the most part, as I feel like I can also do my own thing and there isn’t so much pressure to have all my attention on the TV.

22. What was the last thing you broke? How about fixed? My old laptop broke but I don’t think I caused it. The last thing I fixed...I also don’t know, ha.

23. Is there a sign or symbol that means a lot to you for whatever reason (eg. seeing certain animals or birds, 11:11 or other repeating numbers, syncs, butterflies, hearts in nature, etc)? Nope.

24. Do you have a personal ghost stories or paranormal experiences? No.

25. What do you get complimented on the most? My business and how I am with the animals. I had to cut everything short last week due to the heat and I got SO many lovely comments for prioritising welfare over money. And then they paid me anyway :)

26. What is something unusual that you find attractive? A nice back/shoulders.

27. What time do you tend to eat your first meal of the day? And your last? Around 7.30am and and about 8pm.

28. What was the subject of the last video you watched? I’m currently watching Friends, but the last reel or whatever I watched was a Friends parody with Maggie Wheeler and Jax.

29. When was the last time you traveled out of town, and where to? About two months ago when I went to spend the day with my mum.

30. How would you describe your overall aesthetic? Cosy and casual.

#survey #surveys

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traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors · 1 year

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TW: unsafe living conditions (? not like a lot i don't think), rambling sorry

Looking for: advice, validation(?), general opinion

So I was with a few people and we were talking about experiences and stuff and usually I try not to mention any obviously bad stuff lol, but the other people mentioned how their house was under construction until they moved in and I asked them a few questions just 'cause.

I mentioned that my family does a lot of construction and that for nearly all my life I've never lived in a fully finished home. Sometimes there'd be no electricity in half the house or there'd be just one toilet and nothing else in any of the bathrooms working or there was a month+ where the only running water we had was the bathtub so we'd have to wash our dishes there. But like I thought we were trading stories of construction life?

But when I mentioned how in one of our houses we sometimes would get storms and it would knock the electricity out. And when the electricity was out we'd have no heating or running water and we'd hve to burn wood in the basement fireplace to try and keep the house warm enough to not freeze lol. Sometimes it was only for a few hours but we've gone days and like a week or so like that. But when I said that the other person said "I'm sorry that sounds really rough" and stuff along those lines??

I thought we were just trading stories but they seemed weirded out that I haven't really lived in a finished house (parents would buy a really rundown place, work on it for a few years, then sell and repeat). I never mentioned how we were technically homeless between houses or how most of the houses when we moved in were so bad I sometimes camped outside because there'd be a ton of mold and sometimes shit and stuff. My parents stayed in our camping trailer for a few months while we worked on the most recent house while I slept in a room with plastic and tape over the door to keep the air dust levels down.

We've also had to take down some outside walls and/or replace windows so there was this one week in winter where my bedroom had no window and I got snowed on when I slept lol. There was another house where we had the hole back of a room taken out and we rebuilt the wall but there was a small section with a water problem that every day when I walked back from school I had to check and inspect it to see if there was more damage. Stuff like that you know?

Looking back sure I wasn't really given a mask when I should of or sometimes I didn't grab my gloves (if I didn't I wouldn't get them) or I didn't get ear protection or sunscreen or stuff but eh, technically we shouldn't have been doing the electrical or plumbing in the first place (honestly idk if my parents ever got the right permits ya know?)

I mean, yeah I guess living somewhere were you're expected to work when you get home after school (by the time I was 7 I was grouting floors and helping with electrical, building, plumbing, etc. When I was 5 I was already helping drag 2 by 4s down the lawn to help with building fences). And sure maybe it's odd having your room be the tools storage room or having your bed be surrounded with saws and stuff because there's nowhere else to put them or be tetris'd into the back of a truck because all the construction materials and stuff need to fit so you barely have room to breathe but like, idk I think all that stuff is normal?

And yeah my parents would also kinda "rent me out to work" where like. My dad would take on a job and I'd be expected to help out and all that even when I was 8.

Sure my parents have had some... questionable work ethics (my mom doesn't help often because arthritis so it's usually just me and my dad and that's it and sometimes I'm pushed so hard I physically get a little ill or heat stroke-ish) but idk. The people's reaction surprised me because I never really thought about it as being really rough? Like that's just life. Living in a place where there isn't jobs to do and it's all completed is just super super weird to me.

A side effect of this is that my standards for where I live is... rather low since like. I've lived somewhere where we only had 3 lawn chairs and one was held together by sticks (mine lol) and that was all the furniture we had for weeks. The ceilings were exposed and there were wires hanging down, holes in the wall, no doors, bits of hammered out bricks everywhere, etc. Like the air was thick with dust (almost like mist) and you had to wear shoes or else your feet would get stabbed and that's ignoring that the house stank so bad and was still filled with the remains of the last owner's life style (mold in the kitchen and bathrooms, everything was sticky, stuff growing on the walls, etc).

idk I never really considered it a huge deal but ig it might be weird? IDK if it would count as traumatic per say but idk? Is lacking a solid roof over your head, expected (and enforced) work, constant moving, etc developmentally "damaging"?

Hi anon,

What you've said sounds extremely similar to this ask I answered.

Like I said, I’m pretty sure that doing all that construction work as a child is considered child labor. It’s easy for it to feel normal when you are simply used to doing all that and living the ways that you have, but in a broader context, it’s actually quite unusual. If I’m not mistaken, it may also be considered child endangerment regarding getting snowed on in your sleep. You were quite literally being exposed to the elements and I think you should’ve been protected more. These experiences can definitely be damaging.

I hope you’re doing okay now. Please let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks #tw abuse #tw child abuse

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mylifeincinema · 1 year

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My Best of 2022: Non-2022 Films

My Best of 2022 is a series of annual lists in which I pick the best of the best from 2022, all leading up to my official picks for My Top 10 Films of 2022.

Only a handful of these even belong on any sort of ‘best of’ list. But, as I only saw somewhere like 20 first-time non-2022 films, here we are. Oh well...

1. Drive My Car (Ryûsuke Hamaguchi, 2021)

A staggering cinematic achievement. How not one second of this three-hour film is anything less than enrapturing is a true testament to the power of humanity in film. All aspects work together beautifully, here, to bring a refreshing, heartfelt, emotionally cathartic story of mourning and the connection between life and art. The source material lays a rock-solid foundation upon which Ryûsuke Hamaguchi & Co. build a quietly compelling piece of cinema. With the Academy’s love for this, I really see no logical reason how Hidetoshi Nishijima wasn’t nominated in the Lead Actor category over Javier Bardem, he was magnificent.

2. The Raid: Redemption (Gareth Evans, 2011)

Oh… damn… badass action flick is badass. How the hell did I not see this sooner?!?

3. The Cincinnati Kid (Norman Jewison, 1965)

I’ve long loved Rounders, so its really strange it took me this long to see this one. McQueen is solid, but Robinson steals the show. Jewison’s direction sets a fantastic pace. And then there’s Ann-Margaret… yikes!

4. Cyrano (Joe Wright, 2021)

That “Wherever I Fall” sequence, though... That scene tore my heart right out of my chest. Wow.

The rest of this is quite phenomenal, as well. Dinklage’s performance was stellar, and despite his singing voice not being the strongest (especially when paired against Haley Bennett’s), his numbers made for emotionally overwhelming pieces. On the technical side, this was an all-around feast, boasting production design, costumes, cinematography - not to mention the abundance of music not singled out - that were nothing short of beautiful.

5. Kodachrome (Mark Raso, 2018)

Holy shit… Elizabeth Olsen is so effortlessly gorgeous, here. Damn. The beginning features a giant, don’t-fucking-do-it move on Sudeikis’ part when he gives the venue security guard attitude for telling him he needs to have his pass on, and that seriously annoyed me, so the fact that I ended up liking his character at all throughout the rest of the film is some solid character work on his part. Ed Harris was unsurprisingly solid. Overall not the best, most original or insightful film of its kind, but the cast is really good and living in both the live music world and the photography world as I do, there was a bunch here for me to like. Especially Elizabeth Olsen, though. Seriously… Damn.

6. The Shop Around the Corner (Ernst Lubitsch, 1940)

James Stewart really is one of my all-time favorite actors. He’s just always so damn good. I also love me some Lubitsch, yet for some reason I have so many blind spots with him. Anyway, I know we live in completely different times, but even looking through the scope of the time, that ending seemed a bit forced. Still a delightful film overall, but she must’ve been really desperate to let the shit he pulled go.

7. Timecrimes (Nacho Vigalondo, 2008)

A cool, little contained time travel thriller. I’d almost rented this dozens of times back when I worked at Blockbuster Video, but never pulled the trigger. It’s weird and twisty and surely ridden in plot-holes, but damn was it an enjoyable ride.

8. Red Rocket (Sean Baker, 2021)

I was surprised by how much I actually ended up liking this despite totally despising our lead character. There’s a white-trash charm to it, I guess? Or, at the very least, a clear sense of authenticity that pulls you into the film effectively. I’m still not a fan of Baker’s tendency to use non-professional actors, though. It’s distracting in the wrong way.

9. Parallel Mothers (Pedro Almodóvar, 2021)

I don’t really have a lot to say about this one. Cruz was magnificent, and more than earned that Oscar nod, but other than that I had trouble getting emotionally invested, and was therefore left cold by the end.

10. The King’s Man (Matthew Vaughn, 2021)

It has its moments, and Ralph Fiennes is awesome, but mostly it left me wanting for more. The first of these movies was so wonderfully over-the-top that the few scenes that come near that level, here, just don’t quite satisfy.

Enjoy!

-Timothy Patrick Boyer.

Next Up: Assorted (Animated Feature, Foreign Film, Editing, Screenplay, Etc.)

More of My Best of 2022...

#film #movies #best of 2022 #non-2022 #lists #movie #mybestof2022 #drive my car #the raid #the cincinnati kid #timecrimes #red rocket #parallel mothers #the king's man #kodachrome #the shop around the corner #cyrano

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tellhound · 2 years

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Tag game!

Big thanks to the very lovely @seidenbros for tagging me ❤️

dynamic: post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

1. Modern day AU aka Geralt plays piano

Can't really say much about this one cause I have really only written 1k words with no real plans beyond that except that it's eventually gonna be geraskier.

2. Ruins

Jaskier wakes up alone, scared, injured, and confused in the ruins of Kaer Morhen with no recollection of what's happened and with no sign of where everyone has gone.

3. Better than I know myself

Second part to this fic.

Jaskier continues avoiding everyone, Eskel gets introduced and a nightmare brings Jaskier and Geralt closer together.

4. Last first kiss

Jaskier's been in love with Geralt for years and what time is better to confess than late at night when you're staying over at his place?

Technically finished, but needs editing that I've been putting off for months.

5. Untitled

A few months after the mountain Jaskier finds himself stuck at a mysterious inn somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Everyone who's tried to leave have gotten killed by a monster in the woods with Jaskier being the only known surviour. Maybe, just maybe Geralt will be the one who saves them all.

6. Geraskier prompt, right version

Based on this prompt I was sent:

20 - Both are drunk and happy. 40 - “It’s just hard for me to forgive you after everything that’s happened.” Geraskier

7. I Would Walk 500 Miles

When Geralt dies during a hunt gone wrong just a few weeks before he and Jaskier was supposed to head to Kaer Morhen for the winter it's up to the bard to get Geralt's medallion to the other witchers and deliver the bad news

8. If You Squint Hard Enough Then I Guess This Could Be Considered A Steddie Fic

Eddie lives! But he's been unable to sleep ever since he saw Chrissy die, experienced the upside down and almost died himself. A late night walk to clear his thoughts somehow leads to a long conversation between him and Steve that may turn into the start of something beautiful between them.

There are some other wip's, but I've chosen not to include them since I'm pretty sure I won't be able to finish them. If anyone is interested in hearing about them anyway, feel free to send me a message

I'm pretty sure Staff already tagged all the writers I usually tag in these, so if you're a writer and wants to do this, consider yourself tagged

#Seidenbros #Tag game

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tsp-narrator-ask · 2 years

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hint esoteric fun times! Keep in mind I may be wrong about the final count again. Don't send asks with a headache, that was a bad idea yesterday.

1- This person fears for her life. A fugitive and a coward for good reason it seems. I can't reveal any more untill you promise sanctuary. She cheated death and is terrified you'll bring it to her. She's also judgy.

2- Stanley's personal stalker is well dressed. He only appears rarely and in certain circumstances but you've never acknowledged him. He likes when you answer correctly.

3- This person is a pain in the keister. It died once before and now is making that everyone else's problem. It's less shy than the others. It's called you "loud man" and I laughed.

4- The copy machine has printed lovely poems about wishing to be terminated on the floor.

5- This man is named Joe but most people don't know that. He may or may not still be alive. He's greedy and Australian.

6- This person is powerful. If they exist. May or may not exist and may or may not have killed Joe.

7- You know it™, you love it™, it's the Stanley Parable Adventure Line™! YES I'm counting it™. Any creature cognizant enough to take orders and be wrong about them is alive. In some sense. Its™ also able to be confused and seek attention. Please don't kill the line™.

8- This person is not supposed to be here! He loves a good pencil and sliders are his bread and butter. Well, it would be if they weren't trapped somewhere. They love time and may hate you. He needs a helping hand. Save him, will ya?

9- I miscounted. Stanley counts as alive in here.

10- You are alive, aren't you?

Number one I’m guessing is the person who took over my account for two days while I was trying to sort things out with Stanley correct?… maybe she a core who bounced here…? I mean you did say she needs sanctuary. And that’s the only possible thing I can think of.”

Number two- I have no idea who you may be referring to with this one. Stanley has a stalker? Besides me ?

Three is the bucket I presume.

Four the printer is depressed and an extension of me leave it alone it’s not alive.”

Five and six I’ll come back to you on that one.

The adventure line is a rogue bit of my intelligence. Sure it can move on its own and chose where to direct its self but it has no real thoughts or emotions. So it’s not a living thing it’s more so a glorified house plant or a worm.”

Ah you know I almost forgot about the sliders guy. Well really that was my supervisor. Here to have me gauge the experiences Stanley is having. That’s why he likes sliders so much. But when he saw I was deviating from the original parables use he threatened to rat me out- so in the end his fate was well deserved. You know being stuck here between code. He insists he won’t do it but I’m not going to take the chance.

“Nine and ten are both givens. Stanley and I are supposed to be here.”

#the stanley parable narrator #your narrator #tsp narrator #ask the narrator #tspud #the stanley parable #narrator #tspud rp #narrator tsp #the stanley parable: ultra deluxe

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the-insomniac-emporium · 2 years

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J Watches Arcane: Ep. 4a, Random Thoughts/Play-By-Play

Oi, only took me fucking months to finally get off my arse and watch the next episode, oops. What can I say, I'm allergic (and yet addicted) to sadness? Anyway, these are just thoughts that I have as I watch, with timestamps. Nothing super in depth, but I just enjoy keeping track of what I notice (might forget otherwise), and it helps with forming bigger pictures with the scraps later on.

Under read-more for length and spoilers (obvs). Seriously, tho, I had a lot of thoughts on this one, even if you ignore the parts that can be summed up with "J, your gay is showing" or "J, your gender envy is showing". I mean, seriously. I mean, like, I had to break this into two parts for formatting reasons. It's kind of absurd. Ends at roughly 22 minutes into episode 4

(1:53) WHAT IS THAT. I WANT TWENTY. FLUFFBALL. Why have I not heard of this fella before?

(4:29) Right up until this shot, everything post-intro/opening gave me low-key Bioshock Infinite vibes. I really should finish that game...

(4:42) Well, first of all, let me just say that I'm glad Caitlyn's mom is still a milf, I guess. Second of all... I know that there's a timeskip between episodes 3 and 4, and I think I read it's somewhere around 7 years, but the contrast between hearing Cassandra talk about Jayce now compared to the last time they interacted is just. It's there. I'm thinking about it. She's a politician, tho, yeah? Feels like she's got experience with putting reputation/public image first. Guess I'm just noting that here in case it pops up again- good source for conflict, yeah?

(4:52) MY WIFE! My wife has a dumb hat!!! I love her dumb hat!!!

(5:29, "we really have descended to anarchy") I am going to melt over her smile oh my god. Also, I appreciate her and Jayce's friendship/basically being siblings (which I have heard a bit about). The way that Cait is so clearly miffed about her post/things with her mother, but still softens up to joke around with Jayce- and the fact that Jayce took the time to come over in the first place :D

(5:55) OH IS IT MY BOY? IS THIS THE FIRST GLIMPSE OF MY GROWN UP BOY? I legit don't know if Ekko's role in the firelights (is that the right name? I have been trying to avoid spoilers) is, like, a huge thing/big reveal, so I don't know if I'll be upset that I got spoiled on it ages ago

(6:22) MY OTHER WIFE. Not to, like, make 50% of this post about how gay I am but-

(6:40) oh hey cool, I got the name right. also just want to say I fucking LOVE the firelights' designs, everything from their outfits to their tools to their sick ass hoverboards

(6:58) that was the smoothest fucking thing I have ever seen oh my god. if I was there to witness that, I would be proposing on the spot. marry me, cool mask man

(7:42, "oh no, she's here") is it my other other wife? is it time for me to start crying, from here until the end, as the chances of recovery slip further and further out of her fingers? will I weep neon pink tears of grape soda gamer fuel glimmer, as the echoes in her skull overwhelm? oh, to be so small, in a world so big and so loud, to feel like one must scream onto the void until their lungs give out, if only to be seen at all- if only to prove that you exist-

(8:52, "... hi")... I mean, like I said, it's a build up, ya know? the end of the rope doesn't feel as bad if you never saw how long it was to begin with, after all

(8:53, *click*) lmao never mind, love my poor, poor feral lass

(9:24) and so it begins. Or, well, it doesn't so much begin as it starts to rear it's ugly head. One thing that I've noticed, and will probably make a separate post for at some point (so the thought doesn't get lost in this jumbled mess), is that the little flashes we see of Jinx's hallucinations here aren't new, per se. Literally in the very first scene of the whole ass show, when the enforcers are walking through the smog, their masks glinting in the firelight, we see those flashes of comic-esque facial expressions, the sort of "signature Jinx graphic". From a design standpoint it's neat, but more importantly, recalling that from the first episode is a great way of showing two things.

Firstly, Jinx has been going downhill for a long ass time. It's not that what happened at the end of 3 completely broke her, it's that life stuck its fingers in the cracks of her mental state, and starting tugging until everything split apart. Also want to say that the fight scene between Deckard + crew and Vi + crew in ep1 also highlights this, specifically with the way everything goes into slow motion, and we Powder at the center of it all, back against the wall, eyes wide and panicked, unable to do anything- because poor girl is probably remembering that shit on the bridge

Okay, tumblr is making me break this up a little, please ignore this random thing, something about a characters-per-block limit?

Secondly, that whole opening sequence sets up the entirety of Powder/Jinx's trauma. Violence, flashes of light, clutching desperately to those who offer her comfort, culminating in the first major loss: Her parents.

Point is, this shit hurts my emotions. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk, and please remember that I am not a psychologist/therapist, just a writing nerd with a skeleton full of closets :) yes I know that I fucked that one up, but honestly I think it's funny enough to keep

(11:13) oh. oh, Viktor, time will never be your friend, will it? Deep breaths, love, what you do with what you have will be more than enough. Also look at the little fluffball, back again. Look at them, Viktor, they will give you serotonin

(12:00) these are forbidden candy. I will fucking eat them. Jinx would take one look at these and cronch on one too

(12:35, "the next chapter of Hextech") oh, so you make it stable and the first fucking thing you build is a weapon? please tell me I'm looking at this incorrectly, but that looks like Vi's punchy gauntlet. *three seconds later* okay cool, it has other applications. had me worried there. I mean, I know it will be used as a weapon tho, so... it's a mixed bag :)

(14:00, "a decade?" "it zips past you in the blink of an eye") Heimerdinger, my dude. I know you're small and maybe can't see Viktor's face as well, because you as so close to the ground and so far away, but look at him. Are you really telling me that Heimerdinger is not at all aware that Viktor's health is declining? Has he grown so accustomed to the endlessness of his own life, that he has no concept of the fragility of humanity? just feels a bit insensitive, don't it?

(15:13) why hello, Ms. Bond okay, glad cameras are a thing, even if they're kinda basic at this point. wanted to make sure that my eventual dumb fics can include cute couple photos

(15:44) Cait. Cait. my god. Was that really the best landing you could do? What the fuck. Do they not make sure enforcers know how to get around a little? God, that landing was so loud. Loud landings = hard landings, hard landings = painful landings. You want soft, quiet ones, and not even just for stealth. The process just makes it a hell of a lot easier on your joints!

(17:16) um. okay. sorry, did... did Silco turn The Last Drop... into a night club?... no no no, it's okay, that's fine, no worries. I am just... surprised, is all.

(17:22) is this that one very minor side character that some folks on tumblr are really gay for, but not everyone I've seen can agree on their gender? and also they don't even have a page on the Arcane wiki? and I did definitely check because I saw a picture and suddenly understood tumble's interest?

(18:19, "the world's growing smaller every day") did Silco read that one post I made the other day, when I was having a breakdown at five in the morning?... is he disagreeing with me because I disagreed with him about how it feels to drown, or is he replying to the ending of my post, saying that "hey, no worries, the world does eventually get smaller?". anyway this has been a stupid joke

(18:27) Hawkeye?... oh, nope, just my gf again. sitting in the rafters (very gay of her, if I do say so myself). also, I love that Silco does not react at all to her dropping down directly onto his desk. How many fucking times has she done this? How often did she scare him before he got used to it?

(19:30) this part here is specifically aimed at me. because the creators know I hate eye stuff. I am taking this personally, and not just because it gives me an excuse to pause the show and not look at what I assume is about to be eye needle time. *half a second later* I hated that. Why didn't I just hit play while not looking at the screen? Oh, right, so I could see if I was right and then post about it, duh

(20:28) if anyone is still reading at this point, they're probably tired of me pointing out the fact that I have a crush on essentially every female character. So. Hey look, it's Mel, I can't wait to see what she's been up to :D

Okay, yeah, breaking this into two parts because I've now hit the whatever limit twice, and I have literally never done that before today, so...

#j watches tv #j watches arcane #arcane spoilers #arcane netflix #arcane meta #not super meta but there are parts where I go into it

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casicroaks · 5 months

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Tiffany Valentine has two things in her mind: love and murder. The origins of the brains behind the infamous Lakeshore Strangler and the string of broken hearts she left along her way to Chicago, interwoven with the development of the tempestuous relationship between her and a certain Charles Lee Ray.

CHAPTER 3

[ CHAPTER 1 // CHAPTER 2 // CHAPTER 3 // CHAPTER 4 // CHAPTER 5 // CHAPTER 6 // CHAPTER 7 // CHAPTER 8 // CHAPTER 9 // CHAPTER 10 // CHAPTER 11 // CHAPTER 12 // CHAPTER 13 // CHAPTER 14 // CHAPTER 15 // CHAPTER 16 ]

NEW JERSEY, 1966

I woke up to a radio broadcast of a new draft being put into effect for soldiers to be deployed somewhere outside the US. For a moment I wondered if dad would have to go. Unlike mom, he did talk a lot about his life before marrying her, about his mother and his brothers and his father’s barber shop and his grandma’s stories of Calabria and his own stories growing up in Newark before moving to Hackensack. He had gone to war back in the day, like his brothers. He lost a couple. He ended up staying a longer while abroad than what his parents had hoped for, dad told me and Bri. When mom wasn’t around, dad told us his parents had wanted him to get to Calabria and find himself a good wife there. But he wasn’t good at speaking Italian, though, and didn’t find himself a woman who liked him enough to marry, even though he had a uniform and a medal for something. He eventually came back home. And then, he met our mother. And they married. And now, he’s just our dad. Dad always sounds disappointed when he gets to the end of these stories.

Bri had already had breakfast and was now watching TV in the living room. My mother had to renew her driving license, since dad wouldn’t be able to take us himself to Gladys Buckman’s garden party. I didn’t understand why. He said he was busy, and then mom got angry and began arguing with him, and then they were shouting about something else entirely. He left to meet with some friends, and mom stormed off the house and into the car, grumbling curses.

Anyways, it was another Sunday afternoon in which Bri and I were left alone at home. But I had a plan. I always had to find projects to entertain myself with, and this afternoon was no different. As soon as mom left the house, I rushed upstairs and into her bedroom, and opened her vanity where she kept all her makeup and jewelry. I remember being amazed by it all when I saw it. Little shiny tubes of lipstick, and elegant round boxes of eyeshadow, and cases of fake eyelashes, and pots of cream and brushes of different sizes. There had to be a way that, with all of that, I could make myself look truly pretty.

I spent the rest of the afternoon trying it all out, starting with the lipsticks. I found two that I liked the most, one that was this lovely deep red, like a ripe cherry, and one that was really dark, almost purple, which seemed to have almost no wear. Those two, surely my mother wouldn’t notice them missing.

“Tiffy, what are you doing?”

Bri startled me –I almost dropped one of the round powder compacts, it could have been a mess.

“Buzz off, weirdo,” I grumbled.

“Is that mom’s makeup?”

“I said buzz off!”

“I don’t think mom would be okay with you doing this…”

She always knew what mom would think of things. Mom wouldn’t allow this, she would want you to do that… I huffed, ignored her, and continued trying on the makeup. From watching our mom I knew that there was some powder that went on the cheeks and some that went on the eyelids, but which one was which was hard to say. Using one of the brushes I patted bright pink dust on what someday would be my cheekbones, carefully watching my reflection in the cracked vanity mirror to guess when it would be enough… Which was sort of hard to say, with the bad lighting in the bedroom and how I already was looking pretty pink. At some point I gave up on the blush and decided to go with the eyeshadow, with a blueish-purple one just like what the pop stars in the dentist office’s magazines wore. Smiling at my reflection I admired what I thought was a pretty neat job. I opened my eyes as wide as I could. There was still a strip of color below my eyebrows. I thought, it was not as difficult as it seemed. Then it was time for mascara, which was definitely the hardest, and I finished it off with the lipstick. I had always wanted to put on lipstick. I remember watching my mother pressing the waxy red bar against her lips, and doing the same with my favorite crayon. Lipsticks, though, stained a lot more a lot faster.

Barely had any time to admire my work, when Bri came back into our parents’ bedroom.

“Tiffy, I’m hungry.”

“So?”

“Mom’s not home yet.”

I looked back at the alarm clock on the bedside table. “Huh. She’s taking her time.”

“I’m so hungry…!”

Bri was already doing that thing she did with her face when she was about to throw a tantrum. It was the only moment in which she wasn’t looking cute.

“Alright,” I sighed, leaving all the things on the vanity table. “I’m pretty hungry myself.”

Mom hadn’t left any food cooking for us, so I improvised. We had some ham slices and cheese and some bread. I used what was left of butter in the fridge to warm it up in a pan and make some nice fried toast for sandwiches. Bri watched along, her eyes growing wide, bouncing and tapping the counter with her hands. She wanted to put mayonnaise and peas on hers, so I let her put as much as she wanted. And then, because she insisted we needed to have something for dessert, we raided all the kitchen cabinets in search of something we could use. We finally found some slightly stale vanilla cookies forgotten behind soup cans. They were really crumbly, so in order to make them a bit sturdier we slathered strawberry jam on them, and topped it off with a dollop of whipped cream that was left in the bottom of a bottle. It wasn’t exactly chiffon pie, but I was quite proud with the little lunch I had managed to make for the two of us.

We filled our glasses with milk and watched cartoons while gobbling down our food, the cheese having melted on the warm bread and making a gooey mess, and we laughed. Bri was an unbearable little sister, no doubt about it, but sometimes it felt like she was the only person I could laugh with. Maybe it was because we were forced to live together. We were like two jail mates who had no choice but to coexist. If she hadn’t been my sister, I knew for a fact that I would never have exchanged a word with her.

Our dishes were empty, Bri was having her second glass of milk, and the mascara was beginning to itch my eyes –when there were the familiar heeled steps on the porch signaling mom was home. I ran back into her bedroom, put the two lipsticks in my pocket, and grabbed a couple of random boxes of eyeshadow, and quickly rearranged everything so as to leave as little evidence as possible of me sticking my hands in there. Then I blew on the vanity, just to make sure there wasn’t any eyeshadow dust on there that could give me away, and I ran toward the toilet and closed the door. I kept quiet for a while, waiting for her to go to her room, waiting with bated breath for her to notice something out of place. But there was nothing. I got a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The makeup didn’t look half as nice as I had thought it did an hour ago. I washed my face and scrubbed it as best as I could to wash away all traces of the makeup, which wasn’t easy because I was definitely a beginner and didn’t know shit about how to apply it, even less how to remove it. It took a while and I ended up sopping wet, but with a clean face. Out of sight, out of mind.

Bri startled me with a loud knock on the bathroom door. “Tiffy, I need to use the toilet!”

“Leave me alone, dork!”

When I finally came out of the bathroom mom told me off for making such a mess in the kitchen, and ordered me to wash the frying pan, the dishes and the counter. All the while Bri lounged on her chair and kept watching cartoons. It was her who was hungry. I told mom this, but she said I had been the one who made the meals and therefore I had to clean it up.

“Do I need your arms around me? Do I live my life for you?” I hummed to myself as quietly as I could, under the warbling of the tap water dousing the soap off the greasy dishes, to focus on the task at hand and to keep my mind from wandering away to the TV behind me. “Do I always feel so warm each time I look in your eyes of blue?”

Mom had taken the remote control off Bri’s hands, and was now watching some soap opera while my sister played in our bedroom. I watched some of the show with mom but got bored pretty quickly. I went back to my room, singing the Ronettes song under my breath, and distracted myself by spinning one of the lipstick tubes up and down, up and down, admiring the metallic details in the fading light from our little window.

I had a plan for the next day at school. For some stupid reason, I was convinced that my best chance at making friends was to show the other girls in my class that I was actually really pretty, as pretty as they were, and if they just realized that then they would stop bothering me. And that tube of lipstick in my pocket was gonna help me do just that.

After brushing my teeth and combing my hair into the two pigtails I always wore, I made the decision to apply some of the lipstick before boarding the school bus. I had to make a good first impression from the get go. But I couldn’t go too wild too soon, or my mother would notice. There would be time for me to retouch it, like movie stars did, at the school’s bathroom. I grinned, liking the idea. All the girls gossiping in the bathroom, and then I would walk in, just to put a brighter layer of color on my lips. They would ask me where I had gotten the lipstick, and I would tell them it was a gift from my mother. They would think, wow, isn’t she grownup? I would tell them how to properly put lipstick on, and we might take turns each helping the other. And we would leave the bathroom a little bit friendlier with one another, and maybe by the end of the day the girls would say goodbye to me, for once, and call me Tiffy instead of Whiffy. I grinned, blowing my reflection a kiss. Yes, that would make for a wonderful day at school for once.

“Wait—” As I was walking out the house my mother grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back. I tried to look away from her, but she grabbed my chin and noticed what I had done with wide open eyes. “Are you wearing makeup, Tiffany!?”

“No…”

She didn’t buy it for a second. Immediately she pulled from the corner of her apron and scrubbed my mouth with it, wiping the painstakingly-applied lipstick away. “Have you gone mad!? Wearing makeup –at your age –to go to school!? What will people think of you!?”

“I just wanted to look pretty—!”

“Pretty? You look like a painted woman –like a floozy! Good God, Tiffany…” She licked her thumb and rubbed my cheeks to clean off whatever was left. “Sometimes I wonder what goes through that head of yours, child…”

“You wear makeup all the time, though…” I said, putting my palm against my cheek, feeling it hot. “I just wanted to look pretty, like you do…”

She scoffed. Compliments worked with some teachers, they used to work with mean girls like Peggy Buckman, but they had never worked with my mother. She saw right through them.

“Well, why is it wrong when I do it, then?” I insisted. “When you wear it always –aren’t you a painted woman, too?”

“How dare you say that,” she said, becoming as red as I was. “Apologize to me, Tiffany, right now.”

I kept silent, with my hand on my cheek, curling my fingers and cupping it. I had my mother’s fat face. I looked up at her. Someday I would end up looking just like her. I had just said I wanted to look pretty like she did –but she wasn’t pretty, and she hadn’t been pretty for a long time now. There was only her wedding picture as proof of it.

“Can’t you just be nice, for once, and apologize?”

I looked down. I think she thought I was covering my ear with my hand and she grabbed my wrist, hard enough I let out a little cry, and pulled my arm away from my face.

“Apologize!”

I didn’t yield. I pouted and kept staring down at my feet. There was a honking –the school bus was about to leave –and mom finally let me go. I ran away towards the street and away from her, grabbing my wrist, rubbing it and feeling the pain become softer and more constant.

Little did she know that I had managed to hide one other little tube of lipstick in my backpack, in my pencil case.

“You got a job at the circus, Whiffy?” Johnny laughed once I got out of the school bathroom. I had applied the lipstick as best as I could, and after quite some minutes of checking it and comparing it to a mental image I had of Marilyn Monroe at all times in my head I thought it was quite an improvement over my first attempt. Clearly, though, it wasn’t good enough.

Miss Collins, of course, had to have a problem with it. She ordered me to wipe it off my face this instant. I asked to go to the bathroom to wash it off, but she said I was not excused from class. I had to rub it off with the side of my arm, and by the burst of laughter when I was done I had to guess I had only made a mess of it. There were no mirrors in the classroom, obviously, but I managed to get a glimpse of myself in one of the windows. Even in the hazy reflection I could see it was a real mess.

It had to have been Bri, right? She had seen me putting makeup on the day before. Surely she had ratted me out to mom, the little bitch. I redirected the anger I felt towards Miss Collins into something more productive: a plan to take revenge on my little sister. Nothing too violent, just a good scare. Something we could laugh about in a few years’ time. Something, though, that would scare the shit out of her for now.

After Miss Collins’ class we had art class with Miss Klasky. She was soft-spoken and thin as a twig, and looked like a soft shove would snap her in half. Looking at her for too long could make you want to cry. I pitied her, her and her big bulging watery eyes, her sunken cheeks and bony fingers, but most other kids just found her funny-looking. Regardless, she was probably the teacher who we were the least afraid of, and that was close enough to mean she was the teacher we liked the most. She never sent anyone directly to the principal’s office, she never raised her voice, she just watched in horror with her big eyes open wide when something went down. Perfect for me to take advantage of the inevitable distraction Darry Cade and Bobby Farrell would make –that day it was a chalk fight, in which each one threw pieces of chalk at each other until one of them landed in the other’s eye and someone was sent to the nurse –and pocket a small jar of red paint for my revenge plan. But it seemed I wasn’t the only one with a plan. While Miss Klasky tried to stand between the two boys without having one of her own eyes poked out by a piece of chalk, and while I made sure the paint jar was closed tight enough to not spill and stain my dress, the other kids at art class opened their own paint jars.

When I looked up at the rest of the desks, I realized, too late, what was going on. And, since I was the only one without a paint jar open at the ready…

Everyone I could see, from Susie Hines and Steven Ciccone to Amy McNab and Johnny Curtis, grabbed their jars and, at Peggy Buckman’s command, they splattered the paint all over me, from my position in the middle of the room. The first splotch of yellow paint fell square on my head, like yolk from an egg, and the shock made me open my mouth –big mistake –because the next one was a green blob that landed on the right side of my face. I tried to cover myself with my arms. That didn’t stop them in the slightest. They kept throwing the contents of their paint jars on me, orange and pink and violet and red and blue, laughing louder and louder. I tried to scream but I had paint in my mouth. I tried to spit it out but there was so much of it…

“What is going on here!?” Miss Klasky exclaimed.

Only then it stopped. I realized I was sobbing, and I got furious at myself for not being able to keep it together, at least until I was alone. There was a silence now, but some kids were still giggling and chuckling behind their hands. I didn’t need a mirror to know I looked like a weird modern painting.

“Whiffy started the paint fight!” Johnny Curtis cried, pointing a finger at me. “We saw her opening a jar of red paint—”

“Yes, she was about to throw it to me!” Peggy Buckman lied shamelessly.

“I wasn’t—!”

“Miss Valentine, I’m afraid I’ll have to send you to the principal’s office,” she said in a tired sigh. “This is… Goodness, this is a mess. Why do you kids do this? What could you even gain from this?” she continued saying in her teary voice. “Why can’t you all be kind and sweet to each other? You don’t understand how difficult it is to be a teacher, to try and keep these sorts of situations under control…”

I just sighed and tried to stop crying, feeling paint dripping down my nape, under my dress, down my neck, down my arms. It was hard to blink with yellow paint over my eyes.

“Go on, Valentine!” Miss Klasky insisted, pointing at the door. “To the principal’s office!”

I huffed and left the room, fidgeting with the little red jar of paint in my pocket, but I stopped right on my heels once I was out of the art classroom. Miss Klasky wasn’t escorting me. I didn’t have to do what she said.

And, before some other teacher saw me running in the halls, I rushed out the backdoor of the school, deciding against wasting even one more second in there, even only to wash my face in the bathroom.

That ugly dark area behind the school was where students came to smoke, make out and not be seen by the teachers. I had heard stuff about fights going on there, about one kid from the eight-grade biting another kid’s ear off a year ago. It was the sort of place Bri wouldn’t set a foot in. It was not the sort of place I would have expected to find the janitor I shared my lunches with.

I stood there for a moment, watching her smoking with her back to me and sitting very still. She eventually turned around and glanced at me with one raised eyebrow.

“Don’t you have class, you?” the janitor said.

“… Don’t you have work?”

There was a silence, but then the janitor smiled, giving me a flash of her rotting teeth, and let out a throaty laugh. “Alright. Do whatever you want, sweetface.”

I looked back at the hall, where any moment now a teacher might pass by and notice me out of the classroom. I decided to sit down beside the janitor, on the concrete steps. It was better to spend that time I needed to kill with her than alone, I thought. She was in her cigarette break, it seemed, but then again it could be she was skipping work too. I didn’t ask her about it.

“Can I have a drag?” I did ask her. She shot me a glance. I smiled as innocently as I could. She sighed and handed me her cigarette.

“You kids start smoking too young.”

“At what age did you start?”

She didn’t answer me. I had started that same year, mostly because Lisa Altomare had started, too, and I thought it would give me something to talk about with her. It really didn’t.

“Do you hear a lot of student gossip, as a janitor?” I insisted.

She let out a hearty laugh. “Are you looking for something to challenge princess Peggy Buckman, Miss Valentine?”

I blushed, gritting my teeth. The janitor just gave me a strong shoulder squeeze that hurt a little.

“I can’t fault you for it,” she said. “I see what these girls do to you, what they do to the other kids. But I promise you, sweetface: nothing I can tell you is strong enough to get Buckman down a peg.”

I let out a small scoff. “Well, I would like to know regardless.”

The janitor took a long drag. “… Amanda McNab practices her crying in the bathroom every morning before anyone else arrives. Movie actress-style,” she told me quietly. “She stares at her reflection in the mirror and begins to sob, and if she doesn’t like it so far she stops and starts over again.”

“How do you know that? Does she do that while you’re still cleaning the bathroom?”

“Indeed she does,” she grinned. She had really bad teeth, yellowing with black gums. Still, I rarely ever saw the janitor smiling, so I was happy to see that. “Are you that surprised to know most people barely register me being there?”

I thought of that for a moment. Of course I wasn’t surprised, when I only had realized the janitor was even a person since I had to have lunch at the same table as her. I was even less surprised for someone like Amy McNab to be so self-centered to not realize there was someone else in the room with her. Still… Didn’t it bother the janitor? I knew I hated it when people ignored me. I was used to it, partly, yes… But that didn’t mean I was alright with it. I was just a kid, though. Nobody cared about what I had to say. The janitor was a grown woman. Shouldn’t she have a way to demand more respect?

“What about Peggy Buckman?” I asked her, scooting a bit closer to her. She smelled rather strongly of bleach. “What weird things does she do?”

“Margaret Buckman… I’m sorry, sweetface,” she sighed. “What can I tell you? Buckman keeps her secrets well hidden, well off this school’s grounds. She complains about her parents to her friends. She discusses whether or not John Curtis is cheating on her. She insults Amanda McNab and Lisa Altomare when they try to joke with her. She’s been calling little Steven Ciccone a fag lately, along with the other boys in the fourth grade. Amanda McNab has been telling her to add Susan Hines to their little clique, but Buckman seems more interested in rejecting her for the time being. But I have a feeling you already know all that.”

I did, mostly, except that last thing about Susie Hines. She was this very pretty girl with soft blue eyes and natural red hair, not like my mom’s but much softer, like copper, and who had joined the school this year. I thought that since she didn’t know anyone else yet, I could be her friend. But Peggy made sure that first thing she knew was that I was a freak and that nobody would like her if she spend any time with me. Since then, apparently, she had decided Susie was a potential enemy.

“… Were you ever bothered by girls like Peggy and Amy, back when you were in school?”

She looked at me with sad eyes, like a cow’s, leaning her head against her hand that held the cigarette. It almost seemed like the smoke was coming out of her right temple. Like she was sad, but somehow still furious, like when cartoon characters were fuming like a steam train. “Yeah, something of the sort.”

I nodded. I wouldn’t end up a janitor, but if I did, I would try to help other girls like me.

“Can’t you tell Principal Hughes about the horrible things they do?” I asked her. “They would listen to you.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I barely talk with Hughes. None of the teachers give a single shit about what I think or what I do. As long as the bathrooms are clean and the halls are waxed, I’m like a ghost with a wage.”

“You think they would fire you, if you told them about Peggy Buckman?”

“No. If I pressed enough, they would, of course. They don’t want me being a bother. But… I really can’t do much to help you, sweetface. I’m simply this school’s janitor. That’s just a fact of life.”

The janitor gave me another of her very sad looks. I didn’t want her sympathy. I wanted her help, and I refused to believe that she was as powerless as she said she was. At the very least, she had experience. If she couldn’t do anything about my situation, she surely knew something about what I could do.

“At the end of the day, the only one you can count on is yourself,” she sighed, as she puffed a big cloud of smoke.

“How did you get through school, when you were my age?”

I wondered if I was annoying her. Most of the time I do, and grownups told me so –usually much earlier into the conversation. By this point, though, I had a feeling the janitor was alright with me asking such questions. If she was bothered by them, after all, she would probably have said something about it. She was a tough-looking woman. She was big and fat and strong. If she smacked me on the back of the head, I knew it would truly hurt. If she grabbed my arm and squeezed hard, she might manage to break it.

“First of all, you must not show fear. That’s how the bullies get off,” she said, putting out the cigarette against the cement steps. “You can’t let them know you’re afraid.”

I wasn’t afraid. I was angry. But in this case, it felt like the distinction didn’t make any difference. “That sounds a lot like what the principal says,” I huffed. “‘Just ignore them’…”

“Well then, sweetface, you go to step two,” she said, and turned to face me. She had a few warts on her face, which made me think of the cardboard witches that decorated the town during Halloween. It felt like she had some sort of ancient wisdom to her. “Make them afraid. Make them wish they never crossed you in the first place.”

I examined her face more closely. Apart from the warts, I noticed some scars on her hands and on her right cheek that I couldn’t see before, because of how she was sitting beside me. I wondered how she got them.

“… I can do that,” I said with a smile.

The janitor kept smoking in silence for a few minutes more before telling me she needed to go back in. I nodded, and told her I was going to skip school for the day. She said nothing to this. I told her I hoped to see her again next day at lunchtime. To that she smiled, and said she hoped the same. While I walked away from school, I wondered if the janitor was my only friend at school. I thought that sounded pretty pathetic, and decided I would not consider her a friend. It would be weird –like considering a teacher a friend. It was just weird.

I had to walk home, since I wasn’t gonna stay around and wait for the school bus to take me home. I knew the way back; it went back to the town center, and from there to the suburbs where most of us lived. That didn’t change the fact that it was a long walk. There was time, though, I told myself. There was no rush to get home.

I rubbed my face with the sleeve of my dress. The paint had already dried, but I still wanted to at least be more or less clear-faced. I was going to be moving across town, and even if it was a weekday, I had the feeling I would come across plenty of people who would look at me funny, with how I was looking.

I passed by the town center just as the church bells rang three in the afternoon. I had no money for an ice cream. The toy store had a sign that said ‘WILL BE BACK IN ‘5’, but I had a feeling they wouldn’t even let me in in the state I was. I wondered if I could sneak into the little cinema on the next block, that I knew was probably open at that time, without paying the ticket; but I really didn’t feel like watching a movie right then.

So, with nothing to do, I decided to hunt for spiders again. The one I had caught the other day hadn’t returned to its web. I wondered what would happen to it, if another spider would take advantage of a fully formed home and move in. That’s what I would do, if I was a spider.

A radio was turned on out of a sudden, startling me, and began playing some music. I didn’t know the song, but I recognized the voice humming along to it.

“Wild thing, you make my heart sing… You make everything groovy… Wild thing…”

It came from the auto shop nearby. My heart made a leap in my chest. Heath was there, his forehead beaded with sweat, his hands dirty with car grease. He took occasional gulps from a coke bottle he left right by the toolbox. The orange afternoon sun shone on him and made him glow. He really was the most beautiful man I had seen.

“Wild thing, I think I love you… But I wanna know for sure,” he said, echoing the words from the radio. “So come on and hold me tight… I love you.”

‘I love you’. When Heath sang it, I could almost imagine he was saying it to me, quietly and softly and sweetly, just to me and me alone.

And I was standing there, looking like a dirty paintbrush, with my sticky pigtails and my ugly dress and my face crossed by color blotches. I was so entranced by the sight of him that I didn’t even have time to run away and hide when he noticed me.

“Hey, you, kid,” he said, crouching down, looking at me with the curiosity of one who finds a weird bug in their backyard. “Are you lost?”

“No…”

“What happened to you?”

I didn’t want to say. Mostly, I didn’t want the first thing Heath knew about me to be how I had no friends at school. I just kept silent, desperately trying to think of something clever to say. He went back into the house, though, and I silently cursed myself for being such an idiot… And he came back, carrying a wet rag, which he kindly handed to me.

“Here, wash yourself up,” he said with a smile. “You went headfirst into an art project, or something?”

I smiled and nodded. “Yes, that’s what happened.”

After rubbing my face thoroughly with the rag, wiping as much dry paint off my face as I could, I just had to hope that Heath would believe that ‘art project’ story. I wondered if he liked creative girls the best.

“Thank you,” I said, handing back the rag. My face felt a lot better, even if I still felt some paint itching behind my ears and under my chin. I ran my hands through my hair with the hope that at least that way I would manage to smooth it out.

He glanced at me up and down. I stood very still, throwing my shoulders back very slowly. My mother often criticized my posture, and I didn’t want Heath to think I was a hunched-over creep. He probably already had a pretty skewed first impression of me anyway, though.

“What’s your name, doll?”

It was the first time anyone had called me doll. I grinned even wider. That probably meant he liked me already. “… Tiffany,” I replied, before realizing I should probably speak up. “Tiffany Valentine.”

Heath raised his eyebrows before letting out a little scoff. “Tiffany. Bit of a mouthful. What do your friends call you?”

After considering lying to him for a moment, I couldn’t quite decide what I would like for him to call me. If he was really going to call me at all. “… I don’t have a lot of friends,” I finally admitted. Tiffy was too childish. And I definitely wasn’t gonna tell him what my classmates called me.

“Hm. How old’re you?”

I was about to answer him, but thought it over. “… How old do you think I am?”

Heath laughed, throwing his head back and scratching his chin. God, he was so cute. “Hard to say… You kinda sound like a five-year-old.”

I touched my throat. Did I really sound that childish?

“Here,” he said, handing me the cigarette. “This’ll help you get your voice to catch up with the rest of you.”

I took the cigarette and glanced at him again, wondering what he was thinking about me. I took a drag, making sure to hold the cigarette between my index and middle finger, like I had seen it in movies, and blow the smoke up, like my mother did. When I looked back at Heath’s face he had this rather surprised expression. “I steal cigarettes from my mother,” I explained.

“Huh,” he said simply, taking the cigarette back, looking sort of disappointed. “I wouldn’t have guessed it from the look of you.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked, a bit worried. “What do I look like?”

He laughed. “Hard to say. I guess…” Heath glanced at me up and down again. It didn’t feel like he was judging me, like the kids at school did. It felt like he was appreciating me. I felt so glad about it, even though I was still an awkward-looking, paint-splattered fourth-grade kid. “… I guess you don’t look like anyone I know.”

I giggled. The way he said it, it sounded like a compliment.

“You, um… You live here?” I asked him, pointing at the auto shop.

He smiled and nodded. “My very own castle.”

“You live on your own?”

“No, not yet, luck has it,” he sighed, patting the brick wall. “With the old man, he’s back there. He’s deaf, though. An old war wound. So I help him out in whatever way I can… And in return I can do whatever I want.”

“That sounds great,” I smiled.

“Yeah, guess it is,” he shrugged. “Especially for a kid like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… I see you, passing by after school,” he said, lowering his voice. “I see your angry face. You make this sort of pout, you see,” And he imitated the pout, frowning hard, puffing his cheeks. I giggled. He had noticed me! “I guess you’re pretty unhappy at school. Makes sense. I hated school.”

“You did?”

“Those who don’t are just lying to themselves.”

“But… Don’t you go to school anymore?”

“Fuck no,” he said, acting offended. “Dropped out in the ninth grade. I’m much more useful here, with my old man.”

I blinked. I knew that kids skipped school, but not that they could drop out entirely. “I want to drop out,” I declared.

“Would your parents be okay with that?”

“No…” I muttered. “But I don’t care. They’re not okay with anything I do anyway.”

“One of those families, hm?”

I didn’t know what he meant with that. It seemed like he had a pretty perfect family. He helped his father around, and his father didn’t bother him. I didn’t think his father would yell at him for forgetting to tidy his room or for not having the best grades or for not getting along with a sibling. Then again, Heath seemed to be pretty sociable. This was one of the rare times in which there wasn’t another guy his age helping him around with a car, laughing with him, sharing a smoke. Maybe those other boys had a family like mine. Maybe we all wanted to be friends with Heath, to have a moment in which we felt like he was part of our family, and that everything was alright. I knew I wish I could have stayed with him there, at the auto shop, and reinvent myself.

“I’d like to learn to drive,” I said out of a sudden.

He laughed again. “You? I don’t think you’d manage to hit the pedals, Tiffany. You still got some growing up to do.”

“Well, I gotta learn someday…”

“Surely you’ll eventually get yourself a nice guy who’ll drive you around,” he said, leaning back against the hood of the car.

“Maybe… But I’d like to know, anyway. I wanna be able to get into a car and leave… To go anywhere I want.”

Heath nodded with a sigh. “That’s the dream, isn’t it?”

So he understood. “Yes.”

“To be free.”

“Yes, exactly!”

“Where would you like to go?” he asked me.

“Um… I would love to go to Hollywood,” I admitted. “I would like to be an actress, a glamorous one, like Marilyn Monroe. Or to go to New York. I heard it’s full of big shows, and there’s ballet and music and places to go to dance…”

He handed me the soda bottle. There was still some of it left. I took a tiny sip. It was a bit warm, sickly syrupy sweet, and the bubbles tickled my nose. We didn’t have soda at home. It was an unnecessary expense, dad said, only fitting for birthdays or special occasions.

“So, you got it all figured out already, huh?” Heath said with one of his beautiful bright smiles.

Feeling emboldened by his words, I dared to take back the cigarette from his hand. “… I guess I do, sweetface,” I said, stealing the expression from the janitor, keeping my voice low, imitating something I saw on TV. In my mind I was older, and my badly-painted smile was close to seductive, and my voice was not squeaky and baby-like anymore. It was the sort of voice you could say one was using on purpose.

He laughed out loud. I laughed along. “Yeah, you certainly seem to know what you want to be,” he told me. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but I kept the smile on my face, believing myself to be quite charming, and nodded.

I wondered once again what Heath thought of me. Did he think I was silly, for showing up to talk to a stranger almost twice my age, about family and cars and running away? Did he find it pitiable? Did he find it relatable? I had a feeling he understood me. He had shared a cigarette and a coke with me. I felt like that was the sort of thing you did with someone you considered a kindred spirit. Maybe, even with me looking like I did, Heath would start to consider me a friend.

“I’m… I’m sorry for showing up looking like this,” I blurted, making a quick vague gesture at my paint-splattered dress. “I know I’m a mess.”

“C’mon, as if I could judge you on that,” he chuckled sweetly.

I frowned, not really understanding what he meant. He smiled a bit wider, and rubbed his hand against his cheek. Only then I remembered he had black car grease all over him. I giggled.

“Now we’re matching,” he chuckled along.

I giggled some more. For a moment I couldn’t look away from his face, his perfect face, how beautiful it seemed even when covered with grease and sweat. I had been watching him ever since I came along with my father to get the car checked, something around a year or two ago. Ever since, Heath had been my image of a perfect man. When I fantasized about being swept off my feet, the prince who did the sweeping off had his features. When I dreamed about a romantic encounter like those in the movies, in which nothing could be said outright but everything was silently understood, it was with a man who looked much like Heath. I wanted him so badly, even as a bratty kid. I wanted someone like him, who understood me and loved me, so desperately. And now that I knew his name, and that I knew what my name sounded when said by him, I felt like I was so much closer to him than ever before.

Eventually I had to said goodbye and get going. However happy I was for that one good thing that had happened that day, I was so tired from walking that, by the time I arrived home, I couldn’t even try to slip in without my mother noticing. And I didn’t really need to. Before I could open the door, it swung open by itself –and my mom stood there right between the porch and the living room. I looked up at her, gathering whatever strength I had left to say hello…

But she didn’t say anything, she just turned bright red and grabbed my wrist and dragged me to the bathroom. She turned on the faucet of the bathtub, shot me one of her glares, and left –and I heard the clicking of the door being locked.

“Mom?”

I banged on the door. I couldn’t open it.

“Mom!”

I paced back and forth, using all my willpower to avoid looking at myself in the mirror. I finally took off my clothes and decided to take that bath that my mother had implied I should take. Joke was on her, I actually wanted to take a bath as soon as I got home. She just didn’t need to lock me up in there for me to do so.

When the bathtub was full, I stepped in. The dry paint peeled off of me and dissolved into the water, making colorful swirls that kept me entertained for a while. Half an hour later or so, though, the colors had all mixed together to make this sort of ugly greyish, dark brownish shade. The water was no longer warm and my fingers were all pruned. I sighed. With the water being that dirty that quick, I thought, I wasn’t gonna get any cleaner. Still, I knew I had paint on my hair, and after putting on some shampoo (we were running out, and to make the most of it dad usually watered it down before we finally threw it away and got more from the store) and washing it as thoroughly as I could, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and dipped my head under water. I loved doing that. I imagined that the sounds I heard while doing that were not too different from those from the ocean. I think what I heard was actually just the rumbling of pipes and sewage system, but in my mind, it was all much more interesting.

I got out of the bathtub, pulled out the drain plug and watched the water being sucked out. When I began being called Whiffy at school, I actually took really long baths every day, and if I hadn’t classes so early in the morning I would have probably taken baths before school too. I used to be worried that I actually did stink. Even mom noticed I ended up all red after my baths after scrubbing myself so hard. She had told me that I didn’t smell bad, that it was just something kids said to annoy me. Now I wondered if my mother smelled something rotten about me.

There was a click on the door. It opened, and mom handed me my pajamas and underwear in silence before leaving back to the kitchen. I put the dirty dress in the laundry basket, but remembered to take the little paint jar and the soda bottle out of my pocket and, before going to the kitchen for dinner, I hid them under my pillow.

“… Where’s my dinner?” I asked once I sat at the table.

Dad, Bri and mom were already halfway through the meal. I had no dish, no glass of milk, nothing. Had mom forgot?

Bri glanced up at me, playing with the peas in her plate. Dad kept on eating as if he hadn’t heard me. Mom stared at me for a moment longer, but sighed and took a sip of her glass. I felt a little nudge against my knee. There was a bread roll, being handed by a small hand across my chair. I shot Bri a little surprised look, but took the bread. Mom noticed, though, and snatched it right out of my hungry fingers, leaving me only with crumbs.

“But—!”

“How was the office today, dear?” mom said mechanically, turning to her husband.

Dad shrugged. “Same old, same old. Rob’s due for a promotion, it seems –though God knows what he has done to earn it.”

“I learnt how to spell my name today in class!” Bri exclaimed.

Dad gave Bri a little smile and continued eating his dinner. Mom kept looking directly at me.

“What about your grades, Tiffany?” she asked me.

“They’re alright,” I said, looking down at my lack of a dish. They weren’t, but I didn’t want to admit it out loud.

“You used to be so smart,” she sighed. “What happened?”

I shrugged. At some point growing up I lost whatever ability I had to keep focused on something. Sounds were all too loud for me, too loud to ignore. Every little movement called my attention. And literally everything, from a lice crawling through Mark Hawkins’s hair to a new mole on Amy McNab’s shoulder, was more interesting than whatever Miss Collins was yapping about. I knew that if I said anything about this, though, mom would say I was just being difficult. Good grades were extremely important for her. She often said a good education lasts forever. I was sure Bri was going to take that advice to heart: even as young as she was, she was already getting the best grades. Me, I was a lost case. I think everyone at my house knew that already, even if we all preferred to pretend it wasn’t an issue.

“You should get a hobby, or something along the lines,” my mother said, serving dad some more mashed potatoes. “Maybe that’s how you can make some friends.”

“Yeah, find some people who share your interests,” dad said.

“Well… I do like baking—” I said with a shrug.

“A hobby that’s not baking,” mom interrupted with a glare. “You bake for others, and if you don’t have friends for baking right away, I know you’ll…” She let out a big puff of cigarette smoke. “… You’ll just eat it all up by yourself.”

“But… There’s not much else I’m that interested in,” I said.

“So, you find something,” dad said, shoveling forkfuls of potatoes into his mouth.

“What was your hobby when you were my age, mom?”

“I didn’t have any hobbies. I had work to do.”

I frowned. “Well, there must have been something you liked to do—”

“I didn’t have time for hobbies, Tiffany.”

“What about sewing?” I asked her, lilting my voice higher, to sound more like Bri. Sweeter, nicer. “You know so much about sewing… You probably sew since you were my age, right?”

“I learnt to sew since I was your age because I needed to, Tiffany, not because I enjoyed it. I needed to make clothes for myself. I needed to earn money to help buy us a meal.”

“Besides, sewing’s probably not the sort of activity you can learn with other kids,” dad commented. “Nowadays you can just do everything with a sewing machine. Think of something like… I don’t know. What do kids do nowadays, Bri?”

“Some of my friends are joining the Girl Scouts,” she said chipperly. “It sounds pretty fun! You could join too, Tiffy.”

“I’m not joining the goddamn Girl Scouts,” I groaned, watching the warm mashed potatoes with hungry eyes. “They wear that silly uniform, and they have to work… And I’m definitely not joining if you’re joining too.”

Mom pursed her lips, but I think she gave up on trying to get me to behave. I knew now that she could just decide for me not to have dinner, though. So, whether I wanted to or not, I had to behave, at least so I could make sure I would have a plate waiting for me the next night. The rest of the dinner, while Bri told us about some dumb thing that a friend of hers did during recess, I kept absolutely silent, lost in thoughts of Heath’s smile and a shiny new car that would take me away from that place.

After dinnertime mom watched us carefully while we changed into our pajamas. I guess she wanted to make sure I didn’t lose my temper with Bri and try to shove her again. When my sister and I got into bed, she had one last drag of her cigarette, turned off the lights and went back to her own bedroom. I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep, counting silently to myself as far as I could count. Once I couldn’t hear Bri tossing and turning anymore, I decided it was time.

“Psst… Bri!” I called in a whisper. “Are you up?”

Silence.

“Bri, you little bitch, wake up!”

She still said nothing. I got out of bed and into the hallway, from where I could see my parents’ bedroom. I could hear them snoring. They were all asleep.

I took out my love altar from my closet, and the matchbox I had hidden in my sock drawer. I carefully lit the candles in my little altar and placed the soda bottle in the middle of it, touching the lip of it with the tip of my finger. It was still somewhat sticky. I thought of how Heath looked that afternoon, glowing in the sunlight like in a TV ad, drinking straight out of it, like a kiss. Like I wanted him to kiss me someday.

“Please, please, make Heath love me…” I pleaded in a whisper, my eyes tightly shut, my hands intertwined in a prayer. “Make him fall in love me… Let us be together and in love. Please, please, please…”

The flickering light of the candles made shadows dance on the face of my little Marilyn Monroe cutout doll, on the plastic skulls, shining on the sequins of my altar. It felt religious indeed. Having the sense that something was missing, I picked one of those candy hearts I had sprinkled around, closed my eyes, and laid it on the tip of my tongue, like the Eucharist wafers at church. The ceremony, then, was complete.

I didn’t have much of an opportunity to see if it had changed anything in Heath’s feelings towards me. Soon we had Gladys Buckman’s garden party, and that was the sole center of my mother’s attention (and, therefore, me and Bri’s) for the remaining week leading up to the eventful Saturday.

That morning dad had to leave to do something at work, that excuse that made mom angry but which she said nothing about. While mom finished cooking the casserole she had decided to bring along as a gift and Bri had her bath, I found the perfect moment to put my revenge plan into action. I grabbed all the baby dolls that I had to share with my sister and brought them to the garage, where dad had his tools and all the stuff for fixing his car (he didn’t know how to do it, but he had the tools to show he intended to) and for eventually fixing the lawn mower (which he hadn’t shown any interest in fixing in the last two years). I found a funnel that would work perfectly to what I had in mind. Holding each doll as still as I could, I made the little holes in their mouths just the tiniest bit bigger with a nail and a hammer. Then, I mixed the red paint I had smuggled out of school with a little water in a bucket, to make it liquid enough for it not to dry too soon. I looked around for something to make it less of a bright red, and found a bottle of something called Danish Oil that had a slightly brown color, perfect to darken my paint. I mixed it in (it had a horrible smell) and was delighted to realize that it even made the mixture a bit thicker. Perfect. Now all I had to do was mix like one would mix cake batter, and use the funnel to carefully fill the heads of the baby dolls with the resulting liquid. I couldn’t fill their heads up, of course, because then it wouldn’t be a surprise at all. It had to be just enough so that nothing would be evident while they were sitting down on the shelf –but just enough that they would puke blood when Bri tried to bring them down to play.

“Tiffany!” mom called me while I was making sure the dolls were sitting just like when I had found them. “Come here.”

I had a wave of fear wash over me, wondering if she had seen me. But, as I walked to her bedroom, I realized it was nothing of the sort. It was almost midday but the room was almost dark: she had drawn the thin orange curtains, and she seemed like a hazy silhouette among the cigarette smoke.

“Did you brush your teeth?” she asked me.

“Yes, mom.”

“Did you make sure your nails are clean?”

“Yes.”

“And behind your ears?”

“Yes, mom.”

She nodded in silence. The curlers piled up under the net in her head made her look taller. When she took the cigarette off her lips, I got a glimpse of her mouth. Mom often forgot to buy floss at the store, so she often simply plucked a hair off her head and used that to clean between her teeth. I knew when she did it because her pink gums would have little bursts of blood, like lipstick stains.

“Zip me up, Tiffany.”

I nodded. She turned around and I saw the dress she was wearing under her dress, a skin-colored thing made of elastic and stretchy fabric that, I had to assume, was worn to dissimulate the rolls that apparently popped out right after being taken her wedding picture. If she was to wear a tight dress like that which she had prepared for the occasion, it made sense for mom to want to appear as smooth as possible.

“Remember to be extra polite today, do you hear me, Tiffany?” she said while I struggled with the zipper. A drop of sweat fell down her back and under the floral fabric of her dress. “And don’t forget to smile. Remember, the face you give the world tells the world how to treat you. And don’t take more than two pieces of food from the buffet. And don’t wolf things down like you often do, eat slowly and properly. And always say please and thank you. Our behavior will be closely watched by the Buckmans. We need to make a good impression.”

There was a fat pink mole on my mother’s back, like a weirdly placed nipple, squeezed upward by the collar of her dress. I wondered if mom knew about it. Then I realized that of course she did, and that she probably had tried to hide it under the dress. What she probably did not know was that it had reared its head back out.

“Done,” I said, staring at the mole. Mom sighed and took the net off her head, and began removing the curlers. I watched her, trying to remember how she did it. Someday I would wear curlers too, and my hair wouldn’t be straight and dull anymore.

It was too late for curlers then, but still, I wondered if my mother, in her experience, had something she could do for me. “Um… Could you do my hair, please?” I asked her. Even a ponytail would be better than what I had. Two pigtails, a crooked fringe, and a forgettable face.

Mom the tried to brush my hair and make it so that it curled inwards at the end, like the pretty little girls in the fashion catalogue magazines at the dentist’s. Problem was, my hair didn’t seem to want to stay any other way but straight. So I sat on her lap while she pulled and brushed and brushed, trying to force it into shape. By the time she was done and hair-sprayed it securely in place, I had tears in my eyes and felt like I had just been scalped.

“Mom, how do I look?” Bri asked, coming into the bedroom, twirling in her new dress. Mom smiled at her, bringing her hands together.

“Lovely, dear,” she said, kneeling carefully as to not rip any seams in her tight floral dress (she had already hurriedly mended the sleeve of my pink dress that Bri had ripped before, and I assumed she didn’t want to have to do that all over again), and adjusted the waistband of Bri’s skirt. “This needs to be worn higher, though…”

She pulled it up and Bri winced. Higher and it clearly squeezed her too much. Bri was still pretty small, and she didn’t even have a semblance of a waist. The dress was meant to create an illusion of one –though it wasn’t very successful. Still, mom tried. She huffed quietly and undid the bow at the waist to tighten it. Bri groaned; mom shushed her.

“Now, that’s better. You look like a doll,” she said with a smaller smile. She didn’t seem to really think it was any better. Bri did look more like a doll, though, for what that was worth. Not like one of those beautiful Barbies, of course –more like the misshapen baby dolls I had just improved.

“What about me, mom?” I asked as I barely dared to touch the hair she had tried so hard to make pretty. “How do I look?”

Pursing her lips, she gave me a look up and down.

“You look… Acceptable.”

Bri and I sat on the bed while she redid her makeup. I thought of what she had told me, about the painted women, the floozies. I had looked up that word in the dictionary in the tiny bookshelf we had in our own bedroom. It read, ‘a vulgar or sexually promiscuous woman’; I wondered if mom really thought I was vulgar or sexually promiscuous. I wasn’t even a woman yet! Still, I didn’t understand why the way someone looked would reveal how someone behaved. Peggy Buckman, after all, was as pretty as could be, and she was easily one of the most awful people alive.

Finally, mom decided she had done the best she could, pulled at a couple of red curls to properly frame her face, and turned to us with a new cigarette between her fingers. “Are we ready, girls?”

Peggy Buckman’s house was huge, the largest in the neighborhood. The Buckmans lived in an angular piece of work that tried very hard to mesh some old style with the new modernism that was predominant. They had a big roomy lawn, though, surrounded by trees, with a little blue pool, a grill and a few lawn chairs, which seemed to have been plucked out of Better Homes and Gardens. There was a greenhouse worth of flowers all around the house, in the foyer (the house was so big it had a foyer), in the kitchen, in the bathroom, in vases adorning the few little garden tables.

“Tell your mama, girl, I can’t stay long… We got things we gotta catch up on,” sang the music on the radio. I tapped my feet, bopping my head along, just to not appear too serious or too nervous. “Mm, you know, you know what I’m sayin’… Can’t stand still while the music’s playin’…”

All the women announced themselves by clicking of heels and a big heavy cloud of strong perfume. Each varied in scent but it was mostly fresh flowers and bright citric, reminding me of that little spray of juice an orange has when peeled. At some point it all mixed together though. I sniffed myself from time to time, wondering if any of it had rubbed off on me, whether I should have stolen a spritz of my mother's before coming. For all that was worth, Peggy smelled like roses, even from a distance.

My mother’s bright red hair, so bright it seemed unnatural, were in curls so tight that it made it all look like a wig. There weren’t other red headed women at the party. There were light brunettes and blondes of different shades, maybe a strawberry blonde (what a wonderful little expression for something so mediocre) here or there, but mostly things that don’t defy belief. It was easy to spot my mom in a crowd. Maybe that was why I immediately walked away from her when she began socializing with the other parents, even though I didn’t really want to socialize with my classmates myself. Still, I looked pretty. Prettier than what I usually looked, at least, which wasn’t much; but I had my lovely pink dress on, and my hair was brushed nicely, and I had practiced my smile in front of the mirror every morning this week for the specific purpose of improving the relationship between me and the girls at school. The cigarette smoking hadn’t worked, the makeup wearing hadn’t worked either. I was running out of patience and of options. Regardless, I had to try.

“Hello,” I said, approaching the group of girls, with my rehearsed smile. They all just stared at me, at my audacity. “Um… Peggy, I want to say something to you.”

She exchanged a slightly surprised look with Amy, who just giggled nervously. Peggy turned back her attention to me. “Go ahead, Whiffy.”

I swallowed my anger, like I had done so many times before. I kept in mind what mom had said about being polite, and what Heath had said about my voice sounding like that of a younger child. For them to take me seriously, I made an attempt to lower my voice just a bit, just enough so that they could understand I was being a hundred percent honest. “I wanted to apologize for what I said to you back in school. When I called you the ugliest bitch in the world. It was mean of me to say so—”

“You don’t say.”

“And so I wanted to say that I’m truly sorry for what I did, and that I hope you can forgive me,” I finally said. I didn’t really feel sorry for what I did, but if it took me to lie about it for Peggy to forgive me and realize that maybe she didn’t need to keep calling me names and mocking me, then it would have been worth it.

Unfortunately, that it very much not what happened.

As soon as I finished talking, Peggy, Amy, Lisa and all the other girls burst out laughing.

“You, Whiffy, sorry?”

“Do you think we’re stupid?”

“You’re crazy! As if you could ever be anything other than a crazy ugly weirdo!”

“Apology not accepted,” Peggy said coldly. “I don’t even know why my mother invited you here.”

“Yeah, go away!”

“Go back to the farm where you were born!”

“Yeah, look at that dress!”

“Look at that hair!”

“She looks like an old ragdoll!”

“Is that what you think people in parties wear?”

“You never go to parties, clearly!”

“It’s like a dress from a hundred years ago!”

“You look ridiculous, Whiffy!”

“Go back to the circus, Whiffy!”

I felt my eyes becoming hot and glassy. I was about to cry. The janitor had told me, to not show fear. And I wasn’t afraid. I was angry. I was sad. But I wasn’t afraid –but I was crying, and I knew what they would think about it. I wanted to say something clever and curse them and insult them, but I knew that whatever I said they could tell their parents, and they would tell my mom, and I would end up looking like the bad girl. There was nothing I could do. There was never anything I could do: if Peggy Buckman and Amy McNab and the rest of the girls called me Whiffy, then there was nothing I could do about it, no amount of smiles and apologies and kindness that would change that.

Feeling dizzy, I tried to run away. Where, it didn’t matter –anywhere but next to the cackling crowd of girls. I tried to spot my mom in the crowd, and I saw her red curls pretty far away, inside the house, far from the yard. Some other kids were now coming closer, having heard the laughs, and were probably wanting to laugh, too. I turned around and tried to find some other direction to run towards –when I stumbled –I tripped –and next thing I knew I was hitting my shoulder against something hard and I had first my head, then my body, and lastly my feet underwater. I had fallen in the little blue pool. Too shocked to do anything, I sank to the shallow end, looking up at the sky, at the blurry faces of the kids watching me watching them. Underwater, I couldn’t hear anything but the rushing of my blood thumping in my head and the echoes of faraway voices. I wished I could stay there, hidden from the others. But I had to breathe at some point –and I pushed myself upwards –and took one big gasp of air –and suddenly I heard all the laughter, all the music, all the noise, and my own desperate sobbing and coughing.

“Hey, she got the way to move me, Cherry… She got the way to groove me…”

I dragged myself out of the pool. I was sopping wet, my hair all ruined, my pink dress clinging to me, no longer puffy and cute –though, apparently, I had been the only one who had thought it looked cute. A few hands reached out to me, pulling my hair, my dress, and I tried to swat them off. I hoped that the water streaming down my face from my fringe would hide my crying.

“God, you’re a mess, Whiffy,” Peggy laughed loudest of all. “Where are you going, now? Cry into a piece of cake?”

“Go back to the circus, Whiffy!”

“Look at the sad clown!”

“Gonna eat some cake to cheer you up, Whiffy?”

“You should leave,” Peggy said, now walking beside me while still keeping a bit of distance just so she didn’t get water on her own stylish and modern green dress. “What are you even gonna do here? Keep being laughed at?”

I said nothing. What could I possibly say?

“Grab your little sister, your ugly fat mother, and leave.”

“Yeah, Whiffy, leave!”

“Shut up, Amy,” Peggy said, giving her a shove, before turning back to me. “So? What are you gonna do?” she insisted. “You’re gonna leave, right?”

‘You fucking ugly bitch’, I thought, my hands curling into fists. Thinking it didn’t make me feel any better. I needed to scream it to her face. But I couldn’t not think of the consequences. I knew what would happen if I dared.

“Yeah –what are you gonna do?” Amy yelled.

What could I do? I was about to cry again. But what would that do? I would just keep feeling shitty. Nothing would change. Peggy and Amy and her other toadies would keep on bothering me, and I would have to see them every day of school, and every day this would all happen again, and nothing I ever did would change that. Nothing. Nothing, except…

“Hey, Whiffy!” Amy shouted. “I’m talking to you!”

And then it happened, like a sudden switch. My patience snapped.

It was like with Bri –but worse, because at least Bri was my own blood. Amy, however –oh, she just deserved a good pummeling.

I jumped towards her like a frenzied animal. I barely gave her a moment to react. Before she knew it she was with her back to the lawn and I was sitting on top of her, straddling her waist and raising my small eight-year-old fists. And, with a furious howl, I punched her directly on the nose. No slaps, no hair-pulling, no name-calling anymore. Full on blows.

There was a cracking sound. I felt a sting in my knuckles. I didn’t stop.

I continued punching her with all the strength I had. She tried to push me away like Bri had done. As soon as she got a hand on me I gave it a bite –she shrieked in pain –but another punch shut her up, now straight to the teeth. Couldn’t see anything but her oh-so-pretty face, now bloodied and bruised, her mouth half open, covered in drool, teeth crooked and one chipped, one eye half-closed and becoming red, her nose all fucked up –and kept on punching it, growing more and more ferocious, hitting faster and faster. Even as I felt the strain in my arms I didn’t feel tired at all. I just felt this burst of energy, this exhilaration. I even smiled. I was happy. Shit, I wasn’t happy –I was ecstatic. It was as if I couldn’t stop even if I tried.

I didn’t, certainly. I wanted to beat Amy McNab into a bloody pulp. I wanted to beat her within an inch of her life.

Maybe I could have been able to do it, if only the noise of the kids gathered around us, watching the show, hadn’t called the attention of the parents.

#childs play #chucky series #fanfiction

1 note · View note

megu-meow · 1 year

Note

Lol, I saw your question post, so I hope you don't mind :)))

3. When is your birthday?

4. What is your zodiac sign?

8. Where are you from?

12. What was your last dream about?

15. Favorite song?

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

28. What type of music do you like?

63. Biggest Fear?

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

71. What makes you nervous?

86. What are you allergic to?

Lmao sorry for all the questions 😂💕

OMG thank you for all the questions, I'm so excited >.<🥰

3. When is your birthday?

July 22

4. What is your zodiac sign?

I'm a cancer lol :)))

8. Where are you from?

I'm from Hungary, but I live in Denmark now

12. What was your last dream about?

The last dream I remember was lie a week ago: I was basically in the Harry Potter universe and I was the Chosen One, not Harry. So I was being hunted down by Voldemort and his Death Eaters and they finally got to me, but then I realised that I have powers like Gojo, so I had infinity I guess, because they were casting spells towards me and none of them reached me. I wanted to try using Hollow Purple on Voldemort, but my roommate/best friend was captured by Bellatrix Lestrange and they would have been caught in it, so I didn't. I think I woke up after that :)) I've been having very crazy dreams lately, I guess it's from melatonin.

15. Favorite song?

This is very hard, I LOVE music, I can't function without it.

All time favorite I would say is Self Control by Frank Ocean, but currently it's fool4love by ericdoa.

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

I think I want someone with goals in life. I don't really like people that are okay to settle and do not try to achieve something. Also, I feel like I would be most comfortable with someone that is good with communication, I think that's essential in a relationship.

28. What type of music do you like?

I mostly listen to rap and trap, but I like everything, honestly.

Some of my favorite artists would be Kendrick Lamar, J Cole, Lana Del Rey, Kid Cudi, Artctic Monkeys, etc.

63. Biggest Fear?

Death for sure. Also, snakes. I hate snakes, they're very scary.

69. Extrovert or Introvert?

I feel like I'm somewhere in the middle between the two. It really depends on my mood, usually I'm friendly and outgoing, but if I'm not in a good mood I like to be alone without talking to anyone. I think I'm leaning towards extrovert more.

Even this quiz, I've taken it like 5 times, and every time it's either INFP or ENFP, it really depends on my mood.

71. What makes you nervous?

I don't really know, probably confrontation.

86. What are you allergic to?

Oh boy, a lot of things :)))

Fruits with small seeds - like berries, UV light, some painkillers, bees, bleach, pollen, etc.

0 notes

madchild-dennis · 1 year

Text

ANYONE WANTS TO QUESTION ME

TAKE THAT SHIT SOMEWHERE ELSE.

I've been doing this shit from I was 5/6 FUCKING YEARS OLD

NO, My parents, best friend and so much more had NO FUCKING CLUE. I DIDN'T KNOW either.

Plus IF you ever thought of my parents as knowing ANYTHING DO NOT. MY PARENTS DIDN'T SIT AND TRY TO GET TO KNOW ME THAT WAS MY FUCKING BROTHER AND SISTER OR AS A GROUP THING NOT A ONE & ONE shit. In fact, let me correct myself my mother did something sometimes. BUT THAT'S IT. I was the PINING ONE. When I really think about it. I didn't do the birthday pedicures just because I had no money for a present, I think I thought I'd garner favour or it was something I could say I did with my mother. but it wasn't with my mother, it was for her. If I am honest to myself I may have taken it from my sister who ACTUALLY was trained in that stuff (I think I have photographic memory from a VERY young age and didn't realize; will talk on it another time or in the book). Then took what I saw her did and did it for my mother as she would asked and complain. I offered as I always did when everyone else said no. I guess from a young age trying to garner favour/work to get love; something my siblings didn't have to do good/kind or bad/mean/selfish they were. Something I wasn't GRANTED FREELY, as it should. Something I seem to had to work for until it didn't. Till I DIDN'T FUCKING CARE cause "life was unfair" and as my sister said and I learned to adapt; "such is life". I'll leave all that talk for the book I already started.

I was 6 when I discovered the SPIRITUAL WORLD but I thought it was a signal you send to people. I thought it was like wifi. Then I dumbed it down to pheromones, when I found something that felt like it explained what I was experiencing at 5 years old. Now that I'm 26 turning 27. I am learning, being aware and understanding what it was. It was learning that you can be in the spirit. Hear and feel people calling tlaking and dwelling in the spirit. I've been around so many demons, been attacked by demons, and more. I'm almost so versed in the spiritual world that I can choose to be in it or not.

LIKE I NOW CHOOSE TO STOP having conversations with the ASSHOLE in the SPIRIT. Something he choose ONLY to do, then act like he doesn't or doesn't care at all. If he has something to say to me, he takes it to the physical world. I HAVE HAD IT WITH HIS FUCKING LIES.

As I was saying;

I have been the QUEEN-in-training.

From my mother ALWAYS told me (unknowing letting the spirit lead) to sit straight, don't slouch, or more. Then after I watching Halle Berry's Catwoman as child, choosing to practice walking in a straight line or on a curb without falling. Which took the walk I inherited from my father into the masterful walk I am known for.

Plus I was ALREADY a prophet, but without the right guidance/understanding.

I was unknowingly spoken to by God. Granted visions; I had a vision of being Miss World, walking across a stage from I was between the age of 8-10 years old. I didn't realize and thought it was my imagination. I just can't forget, I saw myself on a stage walking with a crown. Then I was around 10-12 when I saw a picture of my mother who was a young adult about my age now. I literally said out loud "that picture looked like me as an adult". How does a child knows what she looks like as an adult, unless she saw a vision of such or a picture of themself as an adult. I never understood what people say I look like my mother as a child. But that one picture looked like me as an adult at the age I saw it. I don't remember where the picture is. As I was saying I was unknowingly spoken to by God, Granted vision, I was learning about being spiritual and being in the spirit, LONG before I was LOUD and vocal about it. MAYBE I AM a fucking Angel as I was told by someone. Or simply crafted by God. Making sure every Ancester was specially crafted and met, formed or produced a combination to make sure I was born. FOR THIS VERY MOMENT

SO I AIN'T GOING ANYWHERE

🙄 🙄 🙄

ACCORDING TO GOD.

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jk-unless · 2 years

Text

Thoughts on Stranger Things

Spoilers of course

Season 1

Chapter 1:

•Jim could get it,just thought I’d go ahead and put that out there.

•Dustin is going to be a favorite for sure,I can already tell.

•As of right now,Nancy gets on my nerves.

•They were VILE for killing Benny like that.HE SEEMED NICE.HIM AND JIM COULD HAVE CO-PARENTED.

Chapter 2:

•Dustin’s “omg omg omg” fucking killed me when Eleven started taking her shirt off 💀

•”Night,Mike.” SWEET BABY MUST PROTECT

•11: *looks at pic of Nancy* “Pretty.”

Mike: “🤨 I guess.” PLEASE

•How you going to convince your friend to go with you somewhere then tell her to leave so you can get some dick?Couldn’t be me.

Chapter 3:

•Barbara: *running from a monster*

Meanwhile…

Nancy: *getting her cherry popped*

•Karen: “Michael!”

Mike: “👹COMING!👹”

•MIKE DON’T YELL AT EL SHE’S TRYING

Chapter 4:

•I know it’s a common black people thing to not believe in what scares them/the unknown but COME ON LUCAS.And I need him to stop calling Eleven a weirdo.

•”tHe sTAtE” got some never pulling all this shit.Like,A fake body filled with cotton?Seriously??

Chapter 5:

•I know Joyce had to have felt SO relieved when someone finally believed her

•Damn,I honestly thought Nancy was about to be in there for a good minute

Chapter 6:

•Bro please when the creepy blonde that killed Benny showed up at the teacher’s house,I kept screaming “NONONONO”

•”Well I call bull on your logic,because you’re my best friend too.”

“:) Okay” IM GONNA CRY

•So…El opened the gate when she screamed bc of the monster during the lab experiment??

Chapter 7:

•*touches head* ”Still pretty?” I would kill for her

•FINALLY FUTURE DAD AND DAUGHTER MEET

•Poor Barbara

•Love me some Joyce,she helped keep Eleven calm and made her feel safe!

•I suppose Nancy is growing on me.I’d just like her to be honest about her feelings for Jonathan bc they’d be cute together

Chapter 8:

•”I’ll tell you where your little science experiment is.” UGHUGHDIIS

•THEY KISSED!I DON’T KNOW WHY I WASN’T EXPECTING THAT

•The Demogorgon’s death reminded me of Voldmort’s death.Also did not think is was going to die in the first season.Thought is was going to be a problem for a long time actually.

•What did that (not a) gift mean and why is Nancy still with Steve?!

•WILL STILL HAS DEMOGORGON BABIES OR WHATEVER THE FUCK IN HIM

•EGGOS IN A BOX EGGOS IN A BOX

Season 2

Chapter 1:

•”I’m not prostituting my sister!”

“It’s for a good cause!”

•aLriGHt did they brainwash Jim or is he lying to hide everything??

•MAX IS HERE!!!

•WELL GODDAMN JOYCE

•Bob seems nice,but it would have been nice to see some build up between the two like damn.

•gIrLs dONt pLaY vIdEo GaMes”

•If they don’t tell these poor people that their daughter is dead so they don’t sell their house-

•”It’s finger-licking good” Steve please

•E L E V E N

Chapter 2:

•My heart can’t take this domestic-ness,I’ll cry

•Most adorable little ghost busters I’ve ever scene

•I didn’t know Erica was Lucas’s sister 🤔

•”B-b-because he’s not black?” THATS SOME SHIT I’D SAY

•Well,Billy is fucking psychotic.

•Jonathan done made a mistake letting him go alone,I can already feel it

•”She’s ruining the best night of the year.” Mike I know you miss Eleven,but you’re being dramatic.

Chapter 3:

•”Did something happen?Are you constipated again?” This would probably be my mom’s line of questioning too.

•”Dustin.”

“Yes,my lord?” He is my child and I love him dearly.

•If Billy and Max aren’t siblings,what are they?

•I hope Will eventually finds some peace because him being so scared is breaking my heart

•Not Eleven almost killing Max bc she saw her with her man.

•Oh shit,it’s the “YOU ARE LIKE PAPA” scene…

Chapter 4:

•”It likes it cold” Oh God it’s inside him now.

•Hm…forgot that I heard about Billy being a racist.

•It honestly doesn’t surprise me that Dustin ended up being the one to raise a damn baby Demogorgon.

Chapter 5:

•Poor Mews

•It made sense for Max to not believe right away but it irked me so bad that she didn’t

•”Son of a bitch.You’re really no help,you know that?” Well someone had to say it

•Ah,the start of the Steve and Dustin father and son bond

•Terry’s backstory was so sad,but it was interesting to see how/why those certain words got stuck on repeat in her head.

•My poor Jim was wrapped up in straight NASTINESS

•Joyce is so impatient with Bob.It’s kinda funny but it’s also sad bc he’s just a nice guy trying to help out his girlfriend.

Chapter 6:

•WELP JONATHAN AND NANCY FINALLY DID IT

•”How was the pull out?” P l e a s e

•Bob seems to be taking things well

•JIMS MESSAGE TO ELEVEN OMG

•Everyone is split up doing their own thing,they need to have a meeting damnit

•Will is gonna be traumatized for the rest of his life.

Chapter 7:

•Was not expecting Kali to be so welcoming…I’m suspicious

•…KALI IS SO PRETTY OMG

•Knew she was gonna get El in trouble goddamnit

•Oh thank God,El’s listening to the message

•So trouble…but trouble for the bad men….I’m alright with it.

•Bitchin’

•My little El *sniffs* going to kill the bad men

•Hope this isn’t the last time we see Kali

Chapter 8:

•Looks like things are really starting to settle in for Bob

•Bob better not fucking die

•Nice,they’re having the meeting I wanted

•Bro I really don’t want Bob to die

•BOB NO

•The shot of Bob being eaten was seriously Unnecessary.No like I’m genuinely upset about it.

•My heart hurts

•They really thought just because we’re just meeting Bob this season that his death wouldn’t upset us that much but IT DID!FOR ME AT LEAST

•Rip Bob,they really did him dirty.

•Can’t stay sad for long when Dustin exists (I’m still a little sad though)

•Does Dustin like Max or NOT

•E L E V E N

Chapter 9:

•Mike really squared up with Jim I’m dying

•Mike and El are goals tbh

•Eleven really looked at Max like “I know you fucking lying”

•Mrs.Wheeler better calm the hell down that is a child

•Awe Dad and daughter made up!

•Jim “my kids a bad bitch now and thats okay” Hopper

•BITCHIN’

•Dad Steve

•”Yeah it’s me,don’t cream your pants.” Steve is really starting to grow on me

•GET YOUR GRIMEY RACIST HANDS OFF OF HIM

•BEAT HIS ASS STEVE (please my son said the same thing as me)

•LET’S GO MAXINE

•Joyce’s flashback of Bob :(((((((((((((

•JONATHAN BABES IT’S OKAY

•Steve:”HELLO”

•DUSTIN SCREAMING PLEASE THAT SHIT WAS TOO FUNNY

•SHADOW SATAN IS FINALLY OUT OF WILL

•El and Jim holding hands kills a bit of my depression each time

•Awe shit she Levitating

•Like at them demo-dogs DIE

•Yes,yes she did do SO good

•Poor Barbara’s parents…and Barbara of course

•Jim better stop teasing me,taking his jacket off like that

•THE BOB NEWSY SUPERHERO POSTER

•BILLY BITCH BOY SCARED NOW

•DUSTIN’S OTHER MOM GOT A NEW CAT

•Bitch had they audacity to call Will zombie boy as she was asking him to dance.Who does that?

•sTacY doesn’t deserve my baby boy!

•NONE OF THESE LITTLE BITCHES DO

•HE’S CRYING MY POOR BABY

•THANK YOU NANCY

•Aww El!

•GET IT MAX

•…This season fucked me up.

Season 3:

Chapter 1:

•Are they opening the gate again or is this a flashback to the first time?!

•The way El and Mike made out was so awkward, very realistic for the age they’re suppose to be tbh

•THEY WERE JUST TRYING TO WELCOME YOU HOME DUSTIN

•These old ladies drooling over Billy really is disgusting for so many reasons

•Wow,so that’s how it’s gonna be Mike and El??

•I love my Jim dearly,but he’s a fucking lunatic

Chapter 2:

•JIM IS CAUSING RELATIONSHIP PROBLEMS

•On an unrelated note,YAY HIM AND JOYCE ARE FINALLY HAVING DINNER

•I see that Robin and Steve are gonna have to share custody of Dustin

•Max dumping Lucas multiple times was no shock at all

•PLEASE BILLY BASHING KAREN’S HEAD IN WAS SO FUNNY FOR NO REASON

•Why did his dumbass just not call out for work?

•HOW DID THAT OLD LADY CATCH THAT RAT

•El is so adorable and I appreciate Max for helping her get her mind off of Mike

•”I dump your ass” Awe shit

•Joyce too busy learning about magnets to show up for their date

Chapter 3:

•Lucas would probably throw himself off that damn cliff if he knew El saw him fart like that

•Jim better shape tf up before he gets bumped down my favorites list

•THERES MORE IMPORTANT THINGS IN LIFE THAN GETTING YOUR DICK WET SIR

•Lucas and Mike are pissing me off.JUST HUMOR WILL FOR GODS SAKE HE JUST WANTS TO PLAY D&D

•Poor Will,I get that they’re growing up but jeez

•BOB 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

•Not the “evil russian” being a Jazzercise leader 💀

•At least Lucas and Mike cared enough to go after him

•WILL 😭

•Damn,Jim got his shit rocked

•Max and El need to stop worrying about Lucas and Mike and just date each other.The way El laid on her shoulder as she told her about Wonder Woman was so cute!

Chapter 4:

•The Mind Flayer looks so…EW

•Nancy just got Jonathan fired and he KNEW that should would happen.They’re both dumb.

•”Sure”

“Yeah”

“No” PUT MY BABY ON A ROLLERCOASTER NEOW

•Jim has such a powerful strut mmm

•”Who you gonna call?The police?” We love a psychotic couple

•Dustin screaming will never not be hilarious

•They could have had Erica say something on the lines of “What has America ever done for my people?” and make Dustin and Robin real uncomfortable.The “can’t spell America without Erica” thing was cute though.

•”That’s against the rules!”

“I make my own rules.” PERIOD

•If they think they can make me fall for a racist with all these thirst traps they are gladly mistaken I will rock Billy’s shit right now-

•Damn that entire sauna scene was fucking intense.I remember everyone talking about the part where El collapsed in Mike’s arms when this season first came out because supposedly Mille was exhausted so it was genuine.

•All those poor,every day people now slaves to the Mind Flayer.

Chapter 5:

•ELEVEN AIN’T PLAYING NO GAMES FORREAL

•Really thought Nancy was about to become a flayed

•Jim is such a fucking idiot

•Nevermind…no he’s still an idiot

•”Nerd (derogatory)”

•LEAVE STEVIE ALONE

Chapter 6:

Nothing in particular really stuck out to me enough to comment on it,but damn shit is getting real

•I feel so bad for the flayed.The way they bodies just deteriorate and absorb into the Mind Flayer is haunting

•Boop

Chapter 7:

•I did not know the “spare me spare me spare me” audio from TikTok came from this damn show 💀

•Murray is really growing on me and I’ve loved Alexei from the start

•”Dustin!”

“Mike!” THEY’RE SO CUTE

•That throw up close up was not needed

•SHES 🌈✨GAAAAAAAAAAY✨🌈 i spoiled that for myself a long time ago,but it was still nice to finally hear

•Them just laughing in Dustin’s face please-

•SWEET ALEXEI I KNOW YOU DIE SOON AND IMMA GONNA MISS YOU

•AELEXI NOOOOOOOOOOO

•KILL HIM JIM!KILL THE BAD MAN WHO MURDERED MY BABY!

•Y E S FINALLY!!

•NO HE’S ALIVE

•E L E V E N

•I love the fucking meet ups and recaps bruh they’re my favorite part!!

•E w a baby flayer is inside El

Chapter 8:

•EWEWEWEWEWEWEW

•Jim reacting to Erica is killing me

•”You bald bastard!”

•ITS SUZIE OMG

•THE SINGING THE S I N G I N G

•Look at his smile!Suzie makes him so happy!

•That had to be embarrassing for Max omg

•YEA STUPID RUSSIAN MAN GO BOOM

•Alright Billy’s death was a little sad

•Jim’s “death” would have been a lot sadder if I didn’t know he didn’t actually die

•NO EL’S LOOKING FOR HIM

•”They’re so hot.They’re so very hot.” DIDN’T KNOW THAT WAS FROM THIS DAMN SHOW EITHER

•Dustin is so over them please

•NO ARE YOU KIDDING ME THE BYERS ARE STILL LEAVING

•Awe Will :(((

•Awe big brother Dustin and Erica i’m gonna cry!

•I know this man ain’t really dead and this is still getting to me

•Where tf did they get a demo-dog

Season 4

Chapter 1:

•Why does he write like that

•Was that…Eleven?

•SMOKIN THAT WEED SMOKIN THAT FIYA

•El’s dumbass class mates are gonna piss me off I already know it

•BOOBIES

•LUCAS

•”You’ve been on the bench all year.” Mike I’ll shank you

•Helen Keller…be fuckin forreal

•”I chose my dad” Sweet girl :((

•”More like diarrhea” SHUT THE FUCK UP

•First thought after the footsies thing:”Will,she’s cute!”

Second thought: LEAVE MY GAY SON ALONE

•Ain’t no way Max popping pills now.Hopefully that was for the headaches mentioned earlier.

•Awe shit it’s Eddie

•CHRISSY AND EDDIE SITTING IN A TREE

•That damn old ass teacher did not have to say that so loud

•I KN E E E W SHE GONNA TRY TO USE HER POWERS FUCK THE 2ND HAND EMBARRASSMENT OMG

•The letter sent chills through my body

•Oh Lord Tammy comin

•YAAAAAAAS ERICA

•LETS GO LUCAS LETS GO

•COME ON SINCLAIRS DO IT FOR THE PEOPLE

•FUCK YEAH!!!!!!

•Thought Eddie was overhyped,but he honestly is pretty fucking beautiful

•CHRISSY WAKE UUUUP

•WHAT IS THAT

•EW HER LIMBS

•Honestly that was probably the scariest scene of Stranger Things I’ve seen so far

Chapter 2:

•…Jim surviving honestly made it seem kinda stupid that they didn’t at least make sure he was actually dead

•Officer Powell the chief?I AIN’T MAD AT IT MY BROTHA

•WHAT THE HELL WHY WOULDN’T HE HUG HIM?

•”Or is he the very savior this town needs?“ You can’t say shit like that.You’re gonna make the man anxious

•Get the elephant?Excuse me?!?!

•On not an…actual elephant…still pretty bad though

•Poor Will :((

•Kinda feel bad for Jason but I know he’s about to go try to kill Eddie

•Awe Steve’s jealous

•BRO WHAT THAT ESCALATED SO QUICKLY

•Argyle is killing me bruh

•Got me stressed out and it’s not even my girlfriend!” PLEASE

•My poor baby Jane

•Why did she just…not bother to look in the woods?

•Oh Lord tf is this

“The Motherland is giving very much…giving very muuch-

•El honey you want me to shank her??I’LL DO IT FR

•Damn she practically did it herself

•…Personally,I’m proud of her

Chapter 3:

•”On my mother!” Well I’m glad he’s telling the truth,because I would have been dead

•Poor Fred

•So if Vecna feeds on guilty consciences,what the hell did Chrissy do to her mom?

•”Because it was men of science,men like you,who created this problem in the first place.” I meeeeean

•SHIT THEY’RE BLAMING IT ON EL

•But she’s all the way in California.They better take that into consideration first

•Oh God damnit I forgot about the mind travel thingy

•Mike literally shut the fuck up

•Wait she’s felling guilty now…FUCK FUCK FUCK

•Aw shit they locking Jane up

•”I’m missing collar bones,not eyes.” I love my sassy son

•LUCAS CAN’T BE FUCKING FORREAL

•FINNS A TRAITOR

•…Nevermind

•Oh Vecna feeds on depression too

•OH NO MAX IS NEXT

Chapter 4:

•”It looks like I die tomorrow.” Sweet girl they won’t let that happen!…We’ll I know it kinda does but shhhhh

•It’s nice to see Mike and Will having a real conversation again.Even if it is still about El.

•I fucking love Argyle

•The fact that Steve got a letter too like I know obviously right? with all they’ve been through but it’s STILL SO SWEET OMG I HAVE TEARS BEHIND MY EYES

•Bruh the fact that Robin can’t walk in kitten heels

•YES ROBIN YES

•That ankle thing gon’ hurt my ankles every time

•Was NOT expecting that explosion to be that big

•Oh God he’s onto them

•WAIT MIKE ACTUALLY SAID ALL THAT SHIT?I LITERALLY THOUGHT WILL WAS DAYDREAMING

•THE PEANUT BUTTER

•His poor feet

•WHAT THE FUCK YURI

•They drank so much of that damn coffee

•Omg there was actually a baby on fire!

•That poor man and his family

•His full name is William?I have never understood why Billy is used as a nickname for William

•Vecna really had to come for her right after she poured out her heart like that?

•Steve’s such a good big brother

•Oh Lord,Billy’s back

•Dustin could have broke something with how he feel off that damn platform

•Dustin heard the answer is music and was like BET

•OMG CHRISSY

•AND FRED

•”IF I ONlY COOOULD,I’D MAKE A DEAL WITH GOOOD”

•HER FLASHBACKS OF EVERYONE IM BOUT TO CRY

•GO MAX GO

•SHE STILL HERE BITCHES

•Shouldn’t have watched this right before having to get ready for work bc now I wanna binge and I can’t

Chapter 5:

•Poor Argyle honestly.He didn’t ask to be wrapped up in this mess

•Please the way El’s eyes widen when he said she was bigger than Madonna to them

•NOT HIM

•Home???FUCK THAT

•My poor Jim.HE WAS ALMOST HOME

•JOYCE SAID SHE HAD THREE KIDS OMG MY HEART

•”The justice system’s a goddamn joke.” The old man’s not wrong

•Oh,its the house

•Welp,El’s bald again

•On a serious note,this is genuinely really sad.She must be going through so much post traumatic stress.

•W ha t is happening

•Argyle had the most realistic reaction to everything

•Jim just made me very sad

•The way Dustin and Steve interact is hilarious

•THEY’RE BICKERING LIKE AN OLD MARRIED COUPLE

•SUZIEEEEEE

•These poor children,there really are so many of them.These fucking doctors are twisted,especially “pAPa”

•PROUD OF YOU MURRAY…MOSTLY

•Well hopefully Jason GETS IT NOW.Anyways,RIP Patrick

•SHE’S BACK BITCHES

•Not yet ig

Chapter 6:

•Poor Wallace

•ARGYLE IS IN LOVE

•Jason should be a Pastor

•Just had to get the black dude out first

•YAY ELEVEN

•Enzo and Jim better stay friends after this shit is over…if he doesn’t die…I REALLY HOPE HE DOESN’T DIE

•Not them hot boxing the van

•”I wAs hOlDinG bAck” sure babes,sure

•Can we talk about how Eleven was SO tony when this memory was actually happening?!

•Max said GIMME THEM DAMN BINOCULARS

•If this is the way Steve dies,if Steve dies IN GENERAL,I’m gonna be very pissed

Chapter 7:

•Stupid fucking Tumblr ft. my dumbass phone decided to malfunction so it closed the app without saving the previous notes I wrote about this episode so OH WELL I GUESS

•So 001 actually killed everyone and 011 gotten wrongfully blamed?

•WAAAAAAIT ONE’S THE SOOOOOOOON

•At first he was making sense…then he started to kill a rabbit and lost me

•It’s the circle game without the circles

•YES LITTLE ELEVEN

•He really just refused to die

Chapter 8:

•Finally the “THIS IS MUSIC” scene

•Why do Nancy and Eddie kinda look alike?

��”She misses her dad.” 😭😭😭

•EW they have so many!

•!!NSFW!! Completely random,but I’d love to have a Jim,Joyce,and Enzo foursome.

•THERES ARE GIRL

•JONATHAN KNOWS WHATS UUUUP

•Will,my sweet boy!!!

•I ship Steve and Eddie so hard

•”If only I had some practice.” HE LITERALLY JUST CALLED THEM HIS KIDS

•NOOO ROBIN MY BELOVED IM SO SORRY

•YOU TELL HIM ELLIE BABY

•Sweet father and son moment between Eddie and Dustin,I’m literally unwell

•Goodbye,Papa.

Chapter 9:

•Joyce said LET ME GET MY DICK IN PEACE PLEASE

•ERICA BE CAREFUL

•Loving Joyce and Jim’s matching coats

•The surfer dude interaction was amazing

•The fact that Argyle is making a fucking pizza rn

•Steve that’s sweet and all obviously but…JONATHAN

•THE NOTES!LUMAX MY SWEET BABIES!

•Pineapple pizza is actually pretty decent…please don’t hurt me

•I’M SO GLAD WILL AND JONATHAN HAD THAT TALK,WILL REALLY NEEDED THAT MY SWEET BOY

•El’s socks are cute

•”I imagined him crashing.Dying in that stupid car.” Damn,Max.Can’t say I don’t agree though

•BITCH IF Y’ALL DON’T LEAVE MY CHILD ALONE (talking about Erica btw)

•HE DID NOT JUST FUCKING TACKLE HER WHAT THE HELL

•I fucking love Dustin and Eddie so much pls-

•THEY’RE ALL LOOOOOSE?!

•Poor Max was just chilling in her favorite memory and now balloons are bursting with blood

•JASON GO AWAY OMFG

•Joyce’s little pout is so cute

•”DIE!DIE!DIE!”

•Ngl,Steve’s choking face was kinda funny

•RUN JIM RUN

•I CAN FEEL EDDIE’S NEARING,I’M SO UNWELL

•EDDIE NO NO NO

•DUSTIN HONEY DON’T CRY

•FINALLY ELEVEN GODDAMN

•DID DUSTIN JUST BREAK HIS FUCKING ARM

•NO BABY KEEPING RUNNING!IT’S OKAY TO RUN THIS TIME P L E A S E

•”I piggybacked from a pizza dough freezer” Eleven please

•Oh it’s his leg that’s broken,no his arm

•Well,you tried Max.

•EDDIE PLEASE

•FIGHT EVERYBODY!FUCK SHIT UP!

•MAX IS BREAKING HOLY SHIT

•Murray actually had a really big hand in saving everyone!LETS GO MURRAY

•Ew,crispy demo-dog

•Where tf did that sword come from

•BURN BABY BURN

•GO FOR THE HEAD HOP

•YESSSSSS

•YURI REDEMPTION ARC

•”I didn’t run away this time,did I?” NO YOU DIDN’T BABY,YOU DID SO GOOD

•THEY SAID I LOVE YOU OH MY GOOOOD

•MAX PLEASE I SWEAR IF YOU DIE TOO

•OH NO,EL’S SEEING IT TOO

•Caleb’s acting has been falling a little flat all season,but this scene ALONE deserves an Emmy

•Damn…bye bye Justin

•BUT VECNA IS DEAD,HOW IS EVERYTHING STILL HAPPENING

•Damn,everybody leaving

•Are they deadass?They see tentacles coming up from the ground and still think a little high schooler had something to do with the killings?!?!

•YAS THE MEET UP!

•AWE THEY BOTH HUGGED DUSTIN!THEY DON’T KNOW YET BUT HE NEEDED THAT

•Oh Steve :(

•THE WAY THEY KEEP THREEWAY HUGGING,I’M GONNA LOSE MY SHIT IT’S SO CUTE

•Awwww,Lucas and El.They’ve come a long way

•Robin looks GOODT

•Steve is so proud,love him

•THE FACT THAT UNCLE MUNSON HAD TO CHANGE HIS MISSING PICTURE

•Dustin,my sweet boy :(((

•Uncle Munson,I’m so sorry

•Was confused as to why they were trying to hide El,then I remembered she’s still wanted by the government

•AHHHGHHGG DAD AND DAUGHTER BACK TOGETHER AGAIN

•There relationship will always make me so happy

•BITCHIN’

•”I’m happy you went to your conference.” I’M NOT OKAY

•AHHHH IN LAW HUG

•…Awe shit.

(To be continued)

#stranger things #stranger things review #stranger things 1

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