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imjustkindafloating · 5 years

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Starry Eyed Boy, Part 1

PROMT FROM @writing-prompt-s, I DIDN’T COME UP WITH THIS CONCEPT

Summary: Virgil’s mother hid things from him, and only after she passes away, does he start learning the truth.

Pairings: Pre-Romantic analogical/Eventual analogical

Word Count: 1,078

Warnings: Mentions of death, death (minor character), cancer mention(?), Logans a scary boi, Virgil is a scared boy, cursing,

Notes: I had no intention of it getting this long, or having more than one part but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, I had fun with this. If you want, PM me or shoot me an ask to be put on my taglist for this. I have no clue if the people already on it want to be tagged in this. If you have questions about the au, shoot me an ask too, I love talking to new friends!

Virgil’s mother would often tell him to draw on the walls. Virgil often asked why. Virgil’s mother would always say, “To protect you from the things in the dark. The drawings you make will come to life in the dark and protect you from all the evils in the world.” When Virgil was thirteen, his friends told him it was most likely that she said that so he wouldn’t be scared of the dark. Virgil’s friends told him that he should stop drawing on the walls, they would say it would ruin the house and that the landlord would be furious.

When Virgil started college, he stayed at his mother's house, as the house was close enough to the school. Once his mother started to get sick, that's when he knew things were going to change.

---

Walking down a brightly lit corridor. The LED lights made his eyes hurt as he tried to hide behind his bangs, but he continued to walk. Each step he took sounded like a drum and each step felt like he was walking through molasses. He had stayed up too late studying for an exam in his astronomy course making him feel drowsy and heavy. He reached the door, room 103. He stood in front of the door, hesitating. He jumped when he heard his mother's voice.

“Kid, come on in, I’m not infectious.” Her voice sounded tired, strained even. He sighed as he pushed the door open. He paused in the doorway, looking at her frail form in the bed. Her body had a thin, sickly, malnourished look. He could see her eyes as he moved closer to the chair next to her bed. Her brown eyes looked glazed and distant. Her lips were chapped. She titled her head as he sat down in the chair, it creaked under his weight.

“...Hey, Ma.”

“Hi, baby.” Her thick country accent flowing through the two words. His lips turned slightly.

---

The conversation had started slowly but ended rather quickly. His mother suddenly felt tired, her breath was labored, and she had refused the water Virgil had tried to help her drink. While Virgil was getting ready to leave, his mother said something he had heard a thousand times before.

“Don’t forget the drawings, kid. You ain’t allowed to miss me if you forget your drawings. You have so much to stay here for, so all you got to do is keep on drawing.”

“I only have you here, Mama. I don’t have much else.” She only gave him a sad smile and he was on his way. Later that night, he would get a call saying his mother had died in her sleep.

---

Only after three years, moving three different houses and apartments, losing contact with the few friends he had, and graduating college with an astronomy degree, did he forget what his mother told him. The first night in his fourth apartment, he forgot to draw something. He fell asleep before he remembered.

---

Virgil woke up around five am. He stretched and yawned before glancing around his room and flicking the lamp on. He jumped when he saw a tall man standing at the foot of the bed. He shot up against the headboard and hit his head while doing so. He tried to scream but nothing left his throat.

“Do be careful, you could hurt yourself if you act irrationally.” The man said, a robotic tone filling the tense atmosphere.

“Who- who are you? What are you doing here?” Virgil stammered, sinking impossibly further into the wooden headboard.

“So, he was right. Figures, he usually is,” the man mumbled to himself, looking off to the side before looking back at Virgil. “Pardon my intrusion. Your father has been waiting for a very long time to see you again. He is a busy person, so instead, he sent me. My name is Logan. Logan Croft.” The man held out his hand, stepping fully into the light. Virgil's eyes widened in shock. The man- Logan, he had stars in his eyes. He literally had stars in his eyes.

The sclera, the iris, and the pupil where all melded together, it looked like the components didn’t exist. His eyes where shades of blue, purple, and black, overlaid with hundreds of small specks, that Virgil knew where stars. While Virgil was staring, he could swear that he saw a shooting star shoot past both eyes.

Virgil didn’t feel scared. He felt uncomfortable, yes, but not scared, not anymore, so he took the man's hand after snapping out of his trance. Virgil was half convinced this was a fever dream and that he’d wake up any second now.

“I’m V-Virgil. Sanders. V. Sanders.” Virgil stumbled and quickly let go of Logan's hand.

“Yes, I know who you are. Your father-”

“My who-now? My dad's dead, I never knew him.”

Logan gave a quizzical look, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He shook his head and continued.

“Your father is very much alive and well. He is most likely not who you expect him to be, however.” Logan explained slowly. “You can relax, sir, I mean you no harm. I’m under no order to cause harm, and even then, it is against my nature to do so.”

“Nature? What? I still don’t- I don’t understand what’s happening.” Virgil said, more confidently, leaning forward. “And please don’t call me sir. I’m only twenty-five.”

“Your mother did not explain much to you, did she?” Logan said, almost sadly.

“What, about weird shit happening? Like a random guy showing up at five am, in my own home, saying my dad's alive and stuff? No, she didn’t, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, a bad move on my part, but you see, he was in a rush to see you- to meet you. He and your mother never got along well. She took you away from him, mostly to hurt him.” Logan stated, pushing up the glasses resting on his nose. “There is quite a lot more. I doubt you will go anywhere unless you know everything.” Virgil paused at his matter of fact- and quite true- statement. Virgil slowly nodded.

Logan sighed, nodding. When he looked up, Virgil could see the glint of exasperation and amusement swimming in the other man's eyes, even with his starry eyes.

“I’m guessing this is going to take a while, huh?” Virgil asked, Logan, nodded. “You can sit down at the end of the bed.” Virgil said, and Logan did.

“Let's start with the beginning.” Logan said.

#starry eyed boy au #ts logan #ts virgil #logan sanders #virgil sanders #analogical #pre-romantic analogical #romantic analogical #alien!logan #alien!virgil #half!blood virgil #human!virgil #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides writing #sanders sides #thomas sanders #ts sides #part 1

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livayl · 4 years

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Tusks and Comfort

After getting increasingly annoying with my non snz Azra drawings I thought it´s time to finally post her first story. :P This is about Orcs and takes places before the outbreak of the great war. Meaning Shokhrakka is somewhere in his mid 30s. Azra is his 5 years younger half-sister.

When Azra falls ill during a shared hunting trip Shokhrakka shows off his great big-brother skills. There is also a really cute, young warg named Tusk. Warnings for: slight bad language at some points. Uncovered sneezing that does NOT hit anybody. It´s basically hurt-comfort mixed with a little snark and an adorable puppy.

Please only reblog this to other snz-kink blogs, thank you. :)

Only enlighted in a dwindling, already dulled sundowns dusk the shaded hollows looked their name more than ever. Once a giant mountain so tall its peak had burst through the highest clouds, frozen and hostile even in summer, now a steep ravine reaching up to the heavens on both of its sides. Its charcoal intestines where streaked with an extensive cave system that intertwined almost infinitely; a careless individual would be forlorn, doomed to an early grave within the former giants cold corpse. Sharp, glistening slopes were disguised in malnourished trees and thorny bushes slightly punctuated with narrow paths only known by few. All cloaked in an ever present opaque fog that, swirling tightly around each figure, created new material for nightmares with each new veil. Obsidian rocks and faded green canopies now glistened with thousands of icy droplets as rainwater poured down heavily. Seeping and carving its own ways, adding new clouds of mist in its wake. As intimidating and dangerous as they were, the towering rock walls and the deeply shaded earth in between were the chosen nights accommodation for a small hunting party. Two orcs sat in a small, shallow cave. Closely huddled together with a full grown warg and its barely adolescent brother under a pointed ledge. Their quarry so consumed the carcass was barely discernible in the dim light. If one listened carefully, the soughing melody of rainfall was split by the edged sound of flint stone hitting gravel.

The wood was still young, freshly grown and thus more in sap than Azra would have preferred it to be. It took a while to ignite the wispy branches until a warm amber glow finally twirled them up in an almost hypnotic motion. She watched them getting devoured by the blazing dance until black billows veiled her sight. The resulting smoke was thick, accompanied by ascending sparks and stung as it wafted skywards.

This seemed to be more than her already assaulted senses could handle as the sharp stench crushed her last resolve and triggered a harsh, prolonged coughing fit. If that alone had not been embarrassing enough, successfully attracting her older half-brothers attention and hidden concern, the itch further up her nose seemed to have been kindled as well. Azra barely had time to fully avert her head or shield her mouth, the sudden urge to sneeze so strong it did not build but explode in a single loud almost primal gasp that did culminate in a rushed: "HEHR-ERSSSCHH-uh!" - that, released down her lap and barely restrained by tightly clenched jaws, escaped through the gap her massive tusks naturally left. Right in its wake came the second one, the irritation still persistently present, forcing her head to rear back as a deep inhale strained her chest. If not overwritten by the sheer urgency of this reflex Azra would have been aware of how frightening the displayed snarl appealed: An already grim face distorted even further, many argent piercings mirroring the fires unsteady flicker. Bushy brows drawn deeply together above teary crimson, slightly slanted eyes. The bridge of her orcish nose crinkled even more while her nostrils flared, curling upwards as did her upper lip, revealing mighty fangs: "Huuhrr-EISCHHAH!"

"Ew. Careful where you spit at." Came Shokhrakka reply from her left, his usual sonorous voice vibrating with suppressed amusement. "Fu-hah- Fu~ck-HEH-WRISSSCH! you- Snrfff."

The repeated disturbance had woken and attracted the younger wargs keen senses, made him scoot even closer to its source. His ashen coat still felt slightly damp as out sized, clawed paws scratched over leather clad skin and a cold, wet nose bumped against Azras bare arm. The cool touch evoked a light shiver.

"Aww....Sorry for startling you, Tuskie. Just snrrf some smoke drifted the wrong way." She gently cooed and rumpled through the wargs shaggy fur, carefully massaging his big triangular head with her own claws. Tusk immediately felt invited to cuddle into her side. Underestimating his own strength he nearly slammed into the Orc as he tried to climb into her lap. His tail kept wagging excitedly, fluffy butt following suit with each turn, which dulled his already feral appearance to looking like a long overgrown puppy. "Careful there." Azra chuckled, the low hum re-sparking an irritation deep in her aching throat to a burning blaze that threatened to lead to another coughing fit.

"Gonna sneeze again?" Her brother asked while scrutinizing her facial features that had scrunched up in a subconscious painful wince. "Ugh I hope not. That was enough to last a damned month."

Shokhrakka smiled as the young warg had finally wrestled enough to reach his planned destination and leaned back against his best-friends chest, pink tongue lolling out in a vain attempt to lick over Azras face. His own heart lovingly-ached a little as Azras full lips curved upwards while her strong, long arms embraced his lanky body. Eyes shining brightly as she dodged the juveniles wet attempts of affection over and over again only to playfully pat and kiss Tusks forehead in between. Still, even shrouded by the crackling fires golden glow she seemed pallid and tired, grayish-olive skin that used to have a metallic hue now dulled dustily. Her nose and the area around her eyes were tinted unhealthily dark and the many adornments seemed to feel more irritating than gracing. The soft sheen was not able to blur the indications of exhaustion that had crept deeper into sharply chiseled expressions as the day had progressed.

Maybe he should have listened to his instincts more than her assurances when this morning his half-sister had woken both of them up with a rattling cough. Sitting in a bed ruffled and damp with a nights cold sweat gleaming sickly like a lost wraith in a swamp. But as much as he already came to understand her, she would have denied any weakness and refused to postpone their hunting trip anyways. Sometimes a culture so obstinately driven with status of strength had its downsides. And little had he known of Azras unrelenting sense of pride born out of pure necessity that came with being a warrior in a culture dominated by men. Only the ever present display of both physical and mental health, a raw force sharpened to comprehensive might, had enabled her to become the warrior that was now feared and admired. Although her nose seemed to have forgotten this important knowledge as the twitching and widely flaring nostrils indicated the urge to relent and release another- or several- sneezes.

He silently observed her crinkling and rubbing said nose, lips already parted more than usual while her mouths corners slowly turned downwards. Then, sudden yet fluent like all her movements, she lifted the heavy warg from both to one knee, hands securely around its waist, inhaled deeply and sneezed harshly off to her free side: "hhhHH-HuhhrESSCHH-UH! -hhh-haah-ERRRSCHHaah!" The expulsions were accompanied by a fine but copious spray clearly made visible by the campfire´s backlight and followed by a volley of rattling, chesty coughs. Tusks ears flattened as he squirmed against her solid grip, his own nose trembled and chaps lifted from sharp teeth with concern at his owners violent spasms. "Hey... You´re alright?" Shokhrakka asked, unable to hide his worry any longer. "It´s all good" Azra sputtered out between coughs, still painfully twisted away from both the animal and her brother as much as possible. "You´re aware that the pup can´t catch anything from you, right?" "There´s nothing to catch." Azra replied, sarcasm unable to mask the rasp breaking her tone. "You were the one who told me to watch my spit. "

"Come here pal, let´s give her a little more space to breath." Shokhrakka said and lifted the restless warg back down to the ground. "You are not getting sick on me out here, are you?" He then asked again, voice lowered to the warmest big-brother tone it was able to achieve. Shokhrakka could clearly see her conflicted between giving reassurance with a lie and the honesty his younger sister normally valued so much. "I-I caught a chill. Nothing bad. Just a little coughing and sneezing." She replied elusively. "A lot coughing and sneezing." Her brother replied flatly. Which wasn't an exaggeration. Through all the time he had traveled and fought aside his sister he had witnessed her ghastly injured and in oppressed pain but had rarely heard or seen a sign of illness. Neither a prolonged fever, cough nor sneeze. In fact the only incident he could recall the later was a harsh double brought about by one of those nasty herbal ingredients- and that felt like months ago.

Azra shivered violently against Tusks warm body and tried to focus on the steady dripping sound of rain and the swooshing movement of paddling paws. The not so little puppy seemed to hunt in his dreams as well- his legs and ears twitching and moving alertly from time to time. Sometimes emitting a low, humming growl that vibrated his whole frame. Azra had barely managed to suppress any more symptoms but had not been able to eat and now it appeared she had lost her ability to sleep as well. Unable to breath through her nose she had to keep her mouth open which irritated her sore and aching throat even further. Threatened to cause convulsive coughing fits every few minutes that she fought fiercely to muffle and suppress. A fight she was predestined to loose.

Amid one of those battles she felt one of Shokhrakkas big and rough hands clumsily rub semicircles between her shoulder blades. Sadly it did little to sooth the tight feeling in her chest, right above her lungs where all the coughing made it ache deeply. "Gross. If you want to cuddle you´re barking up the wrong tree. Sleep, brother." "As if anyone could with all of your baying." "... Sorry for keeping you awake." "Don´t worry about it." "I could go outside." Azra suggested.

In truth she had tried to get up to go outside twice after their wargs had fallen asleep, snoring soundly. Either prevented by a sudden vertigo or Shokhrakkas sudden yet strong grip around her ankle. Not that she could not have been stronger, she thought, when reality was that her whole body felt so weak and wobbly she did not trust herself wrestling with an infant yet alone a fully grown Orc. For tonight it seemed like wrestling that nasty illness was all Azra could spend her remaining strength for. As a new coughing fit forced her to press an already sodden piece of cloth tightly against her mouth, her nose, that damned pesterer, caught the opportunity to follow suit with being intrusive. The prickling tickle spread swiftly, almost stabbing the insides of her already widely flaring nostrils and forced her to suck in a deep rattling breath.

Gods be fucking damned she wished...- "hh hheh HHH-HURRR-ESSCHH!"- she could be- "haah-HERSCHHH-ah!"- more- "HDT-ERSSCHHUH!"- hell not again- "HRAH-EESCHHH-uh!"- quiet... Tusk had woken again, jumped up and looked around confusedly. Sensing no danger, his intelligent eyes stopped their search and locked into Azras own. Two gleaming, golden beacons met smoldering red abysses in the caves dusky twilight. Azras shivering worsened the moment the warm and heavy weight in front of her was gone and she started to curl inward against the sudden chill. "Come on, get up if you can. I´ll spark the fire a little more."

Shokhrakka had tried not to let his worry bleed through too much. But as the awakening flames started their crackling waltz, casting flickering shadows and emitting hordes of glowing sparks, they poured a warm, revealing light over Azras shaking figure. The flaring blaze further illuminated her hollow and pale face that had a glow on it´s own- burning with fever and decorated with glittering droplets of cold sweat around her brow and protruding horns. She squinted her once blazing eyes that seemed dulled to gleaming coal. More swallowing the light than reflecting it.

And it did not seem like she would make it the few steps without an accident. She was swaying dangerously while rising, close to toppling over into the flames. The last thing they needed were burn wounds. "Let me help you." Shokhrakka said, doing his best to sustain his sisters body despite her increasingly growing growls and tension. "Let go or I´ll bite you." She hissed between bared fangs. "Yeah because your feeling so hot you can withstand the flames. Here, sit." Shokhrakka sat down next to the fire, on the smoke averted side, and leaned her against his shoulder on one and the cave walls on the other side for support. Tusk whined faintly, unable to snuggle against his orcish friend without risking to singe his fur. He then turned to bark at his older sister who, still tired and worn from hunting, just yawned in response.

"I can sit by myself." Azra mumbled hoarsely but felt more steady with her brothers tall body seated next to her. Firm, scarred and even a little protective as the shaded hollows themselves. "Hush." "You don´t have to stay up with me." She said a little embarrassed and watched Tusk playfully biting into Varz tail. The elder warg turned to snap at him with an annoyed snarl that started a bickering not unusual for the diverse siblings. "Psst." "You´ll get sick too." "Thought it was just a little coughing and sneezing." "Ye-hhehh-yes... Still." "I won´t get sick."

As much as she hated and dreaded it at the same time, this wretched illness seemed eager to test her brothers immune resolve, reigniting a tickle that had been sparked by the sudden firelight. With Shokhrakka so close she saw no choice but to contain the incoming eruptions as best as possible even if she knew how painful that could end. "Huh-" Azras breath started to hitch and as her lungs drew in a deep breath. She crushed her tickling nose between thumb and forefinger while simultaneously shielding her mouth with the palm of the same hand. "-Haaa-HDT-ERSCH-uh! HehDZSCH-ah..." She could not have done anything to avoid the sneezes, neither was she able to bite back the pained groans after every one. "Ouch. Need to wipe your nose?" "Ndo... Uh..." She managed to answer through thick congestion pounding in her even heavier head while pondering if it would be too disgusting to wipe her soiled hand on her tunic. Screw it, she had done worse.

"Gross." Azras brother mimicked her former statement only to lessen the impact with an olive branch clad in a soft handkerchief. "Didn't know you own a thing like that." "I´m always good for surprises." Shokhrakka replied over her productive noseblow that was followed by an even more yielding yawn. "Try to sleep a little." "I´m not tired..." Azra mumbled. Her eyes caught sight of Tusk and Varz who had ended their little quarrel and were starting to lay down next to each other. Their breaths already coming in slow, relaxed huffs.

She felt the pleasantly soothing warmth of the campfire caressing her front and her sides steadied against both rock solid and safe surfaces; one cold and the other feeling like home. Azras eyes slowly drifted shut, breathing deepening and less labored through the upright position. The soft cloth fell out of her grip as dreams sung their relaxing melodies from afar. Sleep did not sound that bad....

#my fic #my oc #Azra #Shokhrakka #sneezing #snzfic #cold #female #sneeze #I might write part 2 #but damn that got long already #Orc #orcgirl

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gprado34-blog · 4 years

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MIMQ RATING

To The Bone

To The Bone tells the story of Ellen, a 20 year old woman struggling with Anorexia Nervosa. The film follows her journey after being kicked out of treatment for refusal to cooperate. We meet her family and are shown many possible things that may have attributed to her developing an eating disorder, from her absent father to her mother who seems to have given up on her, to the death of a young girl which she feels responsible for. She is put in the path of Dr. Beckham, a Doctor whose unconventional methods for eating disorder recovery are her last resort. As she moves through her journey, we watch her interact with the people in Dr. Bechkam’s inpatient and with her family. The film ends with her returning to the treatment center of her own accord, embracing recovery after leaving abruptly.

Authentic:

Criteria:

The film never explicitly says that Ellen has Anorexia Nervosa, however, based on her symptoms, rituals and habits she exhibits and clues from the other characters of the movie, she fits an accurate depiction of a sufferer of the disease. When deciding my Authenticity rating for the film, I will look at Ellen, and analyze whether her symptoms shown are conducive with a factual depiction of Anorexia Nervosa, or if it promotes any myths or misunderstandings.

Facts:

Anorexia Nervosa is a mental illness that is characterized by restricting or abstaining from eating, having a BMI that is extremely low, being malnourished or underweight, obsession with food- including rituals when eating such as cutting food into small pieces, controlling what exactly is eaten, calorie counting and distorted body image.

A person suffering with Anorexia Nervosa may have trouble being around food, strange habits or rituals when around food, denies being hungry, and will usually exercise compulsively to burn off any calories consumed, however small. Physical symptoms include but are not limited to Lanugo, which is comorbid with Anorexia because it is the bodies way of attempting to keep itself warm by growing hair, from an excessive loss of body fat. A woman with Anorexia will usually lose her period. Dizziness, feeling cold constantly, and dressing in layers to hide weight loss or stay warm are also signs.

When the illness progresses to severe points, many patients have a tube inserted through the nasal cavity to introduce calories into the system (usually not by choice). Continuing on, hallucinations from malnutrition may occur, fainting and eventually, when it has continued to a fatal point, usually causes an electrolyte imbalance and cardiac arrest.

Examples from the Movie:

From the very first 5 minutes of the film we get our first look into Ellen’s brain and her obsession with food. She is leaving a treatment center and as she is driving by in a taxi, if you watch closely, she notices a grocery store and Taco Bell, and becomes visibly uncomfortable. At the dinner table, her sister plays a game of “guessing calories” with her and she gets all of the calories of the food on her plate correctly. She exhibits other symptoms such as body checks (when she holds her arm with her fingers to see how big her arms are) and constant exercise in the form of sit-ups on the floor, which gives her bruises. The scene in the bathroom with her stepmother shows that she is clearly underweight and malnourished, you are shown her almost bare body which is thin to an extreme. When we see her around food, she picks at it and cuts it into tiny pieces, moves it around with her fork, or takes miniscule bites- to give the appearance that she is eating without actually eating.

When she is examined by Dr. Beckham, he asks when her last menstrual period was- she doesn’t remember, it was a “long time ago”. He also points out the Lanugo she has, which is a condition in malnourished people wherein their bodies grow hair to keep them warm. She also wears multiple layers and sweaters, to keep herself warm. In the treatment home, we hear Luke and Pearl use the word “rexies” a slang term for Anorexia, which is an actual mention and acknowledgement of the Eating Disorder. She mentions being “tubed” a few times, and then at another point when asked about purging she responds that it was never “her thing” which leads the audience to conclude that based on all of these symptoms, rituals and clues she suffers from Anorexia Nervosa.

Analysis of Examples:

All of the symptoms and signs listed for an individual with Anorexia Nervosa are vast and vary from person to person. However, Ellen displayed a wide variety of them and although it is never expressly said that she is Anorexic, we know based on the facts that she does exhibit these signs and symptoms and it can be concluded from this and the absence of purging or binging that she has Anorexia Nervosa, and not Bulimia Nervosa or Binge Eating Disorder, as those are characterized with different, but sometimes similar symptoms.

I feel that the actual diagnosis should have been mentioned at least once for the audience. I know many people do not know the differences between the Eating Disorders classified in the DSM-V.

I feel that the portrayal of Anorexia Nervosa through Ellen was very accurate. I didn’t see any of it that was dramatized. They tried to cover many of the symptoms to make it clear to the audience what she was struggling with- even the unappealing parts such as mentioning the Lanugo and her loss of her menstrual period. They showed a clear image of her body, which was emaciated to show that she was extremely underweight. Her rituals and obsession with food were sometimes subtle, but there and noticeable. She had bruises from constant sit-ups and was shown wanting to exercise in the form of walking or wanting to run whenever she could. Overall based on the facts about Anorexia and the specific things we saw Ellen do and go through, I would give this film a “Strongly Agree” about their authenticity, with a dark green heart.

Attractive:

Criteria:

The things I will be focusing on when rating Ellen’s attractiveness to the audience are her attitude towards others, especially in treatment and towards her family and her physical appearance. I will talk about her physical appearance only because many people in the audience will view it as one of the most important things in the film, considering the subject matter.

Examples from the Film:

Firstly, Ellen’s attitude towards others changes throughout the film, but she is abrasive, distant and even sometimes mean as we follow her journey. Our first introduction to her character involves her belittling a patient in her treatment center by responding to her share with “Society’s to blame. The World is so Unfair. I have to Die.” in a sarcastic, exasperated tone. She then holds up a sign that says “Suck My Skinny Balls.” That is our first encounter with her. She seems to be, at a glance, closed off, but when we see her interact with her sister we see a softer side of her that shows vulnerability. Her asking about her father’s absence also hints at an inner child that wants and craves love from her parents. The ice really begins to melt when she meets Luke and he works his way through her tough exterior. Then, during her family therapy she seems like a little kid, quietly sitting and almost dissociating from the moment as her “moms” argue around her. She has a complex personality. She has moments, such as when Luke is trying to get her to eat a candy bar where she snaps and is cruel, and the viewer might assume that she is a mean person. We then see the shadows of a different Ellen when they go on a non-date to a Chinese restaurant, laughing and joking with him as he gets them beers pretending they are cancer patients. She decides to change her name to Eli to mark the start of a new her. By the end of the film, she embraces her sister and stepmother (who she seemed not to like very much) and we see her walk into treatment looking lighter and transformed.

Ellen is classically beautiful, but she is clearly underweight and is shown in the opening of the film in baggy, dark clothes, with boots and smoking a cigarette. I think the film is trying to show this to make the point that Anorexia isn’t about being “attractive” or “thin” and “pretty”. She is shown in her underwear in the bathroom with her stepmother and we see how malnourished her body is. She is extremely underweight. At the end of the film, as her disease progresses, her face gets more and more gaunt, her eyes become dark and lifeless and her lips become dry and cracked.

Analysis of Examples:

I don’t believe the film wanted to make Ellen very attractive to the audience. They wanted to show the “ugly” side of Anorexia. She was just attractive enough to draw people in, based on her personality and the likeable parts of it- her interactions with her half-sister, her relationship with Luke, her childlike innocence with her mother, and her penchant and talent for artwork. Her clothing made her look “cute” and she is a pretty girl, as is very apparent when we see “healthy” Ellen in her hallucination. The end of the film brings her full circle and the audience sees her as she is, a young adult who wants to get better and is connecting with her family and with people after her epiphany. She also, however, had an ugly side in which she could be sarcastic, biting, cruel and withdrawn. When we see her body fully, it is not “attractive”. Her stepmother even asks her, rhetorically, “Do you think that’s beautiful?” And it isn’t- it looks sickly, which is a truth that is hard to swallow and look at. Because these two contrasts are so stark to each other, I will give the Attractiveness rating of the film a neutral “Neither Agree nor Disagree” white heart.

Friendly:

Criteria:

The criteria I will focus on here will exclusively look at Ellen’s family, her stepmother, mother, father and half-sister. I will look to see if they are supportive of her recovery, and if their support came across in a constructive and helpful way, instead of a damaging or guilt inducing way, which is unintentional sometimes but harmful nonetheless.

Examples from the Movie:

Ellen’s half-sister is absolutely the most supportive of her, followed (strangely) by her bumbling and somewhat catty but well meaning step mother. Her father and mother are absent and when we do hear about them, Ellen’s mom is in Phoenix with her new wife and her father is nowhere to be found. In the film, we never see Ellen’s father. He doesn’t come to the group session, or to dinner. Ellen never interacts with him. Her stepmother, Susan, is critical but also through her actions and certain moments in the film shows that she cares about Ellen. She gets her a “hamburger” cake that although was a horrible idea, it was well meaning. She takes a picture of her in the bathroom as well and unintentionally shames her. She tries again to get her into treatment, and although she is annoying and pushy, she is trying to help her genuinely. WHen she is embraced by Ellen at the end of the film, her shock and happiness are shown so clearly you see that she loves her. Kelly is loving. They share moments like on the hill when she shows her her butterfly tattoo, and when she asks her, in a quiet moment of desperation at the dinner table, “will you please try this time?” In therapy, she admits the pain she feels at having her life taken over by Ellen’s illness and although her feelings are valid, she says that her friends view Ellen as a “freak who killed a girl” and also says at one point that she “doesnt get it… like just eat.” which are both very unhelpful. Ellen’s biological mother, Judy, is revealed to have had bipolar manic breakdowns, and left Ellen’s father for her best friend, Olive. They reject taking Ellen back in with them, stating that they are too tired to help her and they cant take her “right now”. In the end, when Ellen ends up back with her mother and the infamous “rice milk” scene happens- where Judy states that it might be her fault because of PPD that Ellen has issues with eating. She feeds 20 year old Ellen rice milk, holding her like a baby in a hut outside. It is both uncomfortable and a nod to extremists who believe that all things can be cured through spirituality and weird pseudo-therapies.

Analysis of Examples:

I try to look at this from the perspective of the audience and not someone with a family that very closely resembles some parts of Ellen’s family. Her father is clearly uninvolved- the reason doesn’t really matter. Him not being there is enough to show that she doesn’t have his support. Her sister Kelly clearly loves and supports her but is shown to be tired of dealing with the illness her sister has- which I understand, but the audience may take it another way. This film speaks differently to people who have had or love someone who has had an Eating Disorder. Kelly is mostly loving though and I do take her age into account, I believe in the therapy session when she finally vented to Dr. Beckham maybe it was the first time anyone had asked her how she felt. All in All, Kelly was loving and supportive of Ellen. Susan, although she could come off as ditzy and overbearing, was the one doing the most out of anyone to make sure Ellen could get treatment. She was genuinely happy when Ellen gave her a hug at the end of the movie. I feel she was also very supportive and loving, but also had a side of her that did not understand Eating Disorders and so she made a lot of mistakes, like taking a picture of her in the bathroom, etc. I think Judy is too wrapped up in herself and her own life(shown when Ellen takes a look at her Facebook) to really be the type of mother she should be to Ellen. At least based on what is shown in the film, I don’t know what happened before. The rice milk scene was just gross and unhelpful, and at the dinner table when Olive and Judy are talking about Dr. Beckham having a “god complex” and talking badly about Susan it was clear that they had a somewhat self centered nature. Based on Kelly and Susan supporting (even though at times it wasn’t the best) and never giving up on her, even going to treatment to find her when she left, and being there to embrace her when she got back, to dropping her off at treatment again, I feel that the friendliness in the film deserves a light green heart or an Agree. I think that her stepmother and Kelly’s love and support of Ellen brings the film from a neutral rating to an “Agree” rating.

Hopeful:

Criteria:

What I will focus on when determining whether the film showed a hopeful ending for the audience is based on whether the film ended on a note that showed a positive outcome or transitional experience for Ellen.

Examples from the Movie:

After her epiphany moment in the desert, wherein Ellen sits on a tree with Luke looking luminous and healthy, she looks down to see her grey, emaciated corpse on the ground and is shocked, asking “is that me?” She swallows a piece of coal Luke gives her, that is supposed to represent her courage. We see her awake in the desert, lips dry and cracked, severely underweight and looking much differently than the Ellen we were first introduced to. She checks her pulse, laughs, gets up and walks out of the desert, and seemingly straight into the yard and arms of her sister and stepmother. She hugs her tightly, whispering “Im gonna be okay.” into her ear. We then see her returning to Dr. Beckhams treatment of her own volition, looking lighter, even dressed differently,in white and a light sweater, with her hair pulled up and a smile on her face as she greets the other house members. She hit rock bottom, got up and decided she wanted to live.

Analysis of Examples:

The ending being her returning to treatment after her epiphany in the desert is a very hopeful ending. She experienced near death, survived, and her first move was to walk away from the desert, and straight into the arms of the two people who supported her most in the film, Susan and Kelly. Then back to treatment. Her smile and a sense of peace as she said that she was going to be okay indicates to the audience that she is serious about her treatment this time, and that there is a huge chance she will recover. I give the Hopeful part of the film a solid green heart as a rating.

Helpful:

Criteria:

I believe the most important criteria to determine if the mental health professionals in this film were portrayed as helpful to the audience is to see if the way they treated Ellen’s Eating Disorder was in a way that was specific to her problem, ethical, responsible, professional and effective.

Facts:

People suffering with Eating Disorders generally have trouble opening up about their problem and trusting people to help them recover. It is natural for them to resist getting better. They need a therapist or doctor who can guide them gently and with patience. Eating Disorders are severe illnesses that are often fatal, they have the highest mortality rate of any psychiatric illness. Specifically, Anorexia Nervosa.

A mental health professional should always behave professionally and ethically. One of the first rules in regards to being in the medical profession is “first, do no harm.” Mental Health professionals must be sensitive to the individual needs of each patient, and have a manner about them that helps to take people who are in a vulnerable state, in the throes of mental illness, and guide them to a place where they are able to get better. They should conduct themselves professionally and in a manner that creates clear boundaries between themselves and their patients. Creating too much of an air of familiarity breeds problems such as projection of emotions or co-dependency.

There are several forms of treatment that are extremely effective for treating Eating Disorders, specifically Anorexia Nervosa. These include but are not limited to ACT, DBT, CBT, CRT and Family Based treatment. It is important to note that Family Based Treatment, in which families are taught to be support systems for the individual suffering from an Eating Disorder, and are shown how to be sensitive and help them recover has merit to it. This method of treatment is also known as the Maudsley method. It is very important, even in cases where the individual is not using FBT as their treatment, that their family and support system be educated and involved as much as is necessary to ensure that a patient in treatment be successful when they leave.

Examples from the Movie:

Dr. Beckham was supposed to be portrayed, I think, as that “tough love” doctor, almost akin to Robin Williams portrayal of Dr. Sean McGuire but a little less intense. Beckham tells Ellen in their first meeting- when she says she doesn’t need more inpatient- that if she doesn’t agree to it then she “needs to find another doctor.” He tells her he “sees kids like her everyday, and as a rule they are usually full of shit”. He uses profanity a lot, from the very first time they meet. While I personally don’t have a problem with it, he doesn’t yet know his patients to see what makes them comfortable. He even curses during the family therapy scene. I feel that he sits back and lets chaos unfold but doesn’t lead the narrative or do what he should as a health professional to ensure that the conversation stays productive and on topic. After that, he completely writes off family therapy. He also seems to not be very present during Ellen’s recovery, or at least not as present as I imagine a mental health professional with a recovery home should be. When Susan and Kelly go to him, concerned because she left treatment, then he tells them that it is important for her to “hit bottom” in order to recover. He is never shown doing any particularly important work- only short snippets in which he talks to Ellen about changing her name, or in their last session when he really works the “tough love” angle and also seems to encourage a relationship between Ellen and Luke stating “what happened with you [two]? Seemed like you had a good thing going. He then calls her “childish and cowardly” for wanting to be reassured, and gives a very movie- ish speech about the uncertainty of life that even gave me anxiety. He tells her to stop waiting for someone to save her, after she tells him that he’s supposed to teach her how to live healthily. Ellen leaves in a hurry, and leaves treatment.

Analysis of Examples:

Dr. Beckham’s rough exterior and initial dismissive nature in his first meeting with Ellen may have made for an edgy attention grabbing Doctor type for the film, but is extremely misleading for the audience. A person in a place as vulnerable as Ellen would probably have left and not went to seek help again. Being dismissed that way is not ethical or professional. There were many ways he could have handled that first meeting when she said she didn’t need inpatient that weren’t as rude. If a Doctor told me I was full of shit, I would report them. That isn’t just unethical, its unprofessional and dangerous to gamble with someone’s mental health by speaking to them in a way that can come off as aggressive or uncaring. If a Doctor is working in the mental health field, I believe they should conduct themselves under the saying of “Doing No Harm.”

His complete dismissal of her family as a “shit-show” is extremely damaging. Families can be very beneficial to treatment, if taught with patience the proper way to support their loved one. If he were unable to get them to cooperate, that would be one thing, but writing the, off after one group session in which he sat back and let women that had previous issues bicker, instead of leading the conversation somewhere it could have benefitted Ellen more than traumatized her again, it may have worked. He needed more time with her family before completely throwing away the idea that they could help her.

The film didn’t place enough emphasis on the support of a mental health professional in recovery. Dr. Beckham was not very present, in fact we only see him 6 times in the film for a total of 17 minutes. It seems that he wasn’t involved enough, from what the audience is shown. At one point, he asks Ellen about her relationship with Luke and it seems like he’s encouraging it which I think is very unethical considering they are both in his treatment center and mental health professional should not be giving opinions about the personal lives of his clients in that way, as it can be very triggering for them. The last session he has with Ellen, where she is very clearly getting sicker and in a vulnerable place, he pushes her to the point where she leaves treatment by almost provoking a panic attack and not giving her any reassurance or guidance when she clearly needs it, even asking for it. It may have made for a “good” movie moment but it was extremely misleading to the audience to believe that this was a proper way of treating a patient. All in All I would give Dr. Beckham a grey heart for “Disagree” because while I don’t think he was intentionally trying to harm Ellen, he behaved in a way that was NOT helpful.

References

National Alliance on Mental Illness(n.d.) Eating Disorders; symptoms, diagnosis, causes and treatment. Retrieved from:

https://www.nami.org/learn-more/mental-health-conditions/eating-disorders

National Alliance on Mental Illness (January 2013) Anorexia Nervosa Fact Sheet. Retrieved from: https://pdfs.semanticscholar.org/d140/e26781f10daaf5ff40f46b416fbc6159d03a.pdf

National Eating Disorders Association (n.d). Anorexia. Retrieved from: https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/learn/by-eating-disorder/anorexia

Cleveland Clinic(June 27, 2019). Anorexia Nervosa: Management and Treatment. Retrieved from: https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/9794-anorexia-nervosa/management-and-treatment

National Eating Disorders Association (n.d). Types of Treatment. Retrieved from: https://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/types-treatment

Beresin, Eugene. (July 21, 2017). Two Psychiatrists Weigh in on Netflix’s To The Bone. Retrieved from: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/inside-out-outside-in/201707/two-psychiatrists-weigh-in-netflix-s-the-bone

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askatemplarchampion40k-blog · 6 years

Note

💛- A memory that makes them feel angry

Johan looked up at the ruins of the hive central spire. Great fires whisked around the hellish column of iron and steel that stabbed at the heavens. He sighed, and took up a canteen from his belt, satiating his thirst with some water. After days of fighting, his neophyte’s armor was battered and ruined. Traitors always died hard- if they were easy kills, there would be no need for astartes. The crusade here would be wrapping up soon, but this hive?

He looked at the ruins around him again.

This hive’s fate was looking grim.

“Johan.” the internal microbead asked.

“Jawohl, this is neophyte Johan. Do you need something Helmuth?”

“Come to my coordinates, alone. I have a lesson.”

Johan agreed, and did a quick bolter maintenance drill, checking the magazine and weapon- perfect as always. He jogged quickly down the warrens and streets- they had been cleared out hours ago, but he was wary of infiltration and ambush. Shortly, he came before a large building, but the function of the structure was a mystery as fire and battle damage had consumed its exterior turning it instead to a blackened husk of a place.

Johan stepped in.

“Im here mein herr. Alone as you say. No contacts.”

There was a slight pause, and Johan’s enhanced senses caught some muffled movement and a slight ‘thud’ one or two floors above.

“Third floor, second room to the right, boy.” Helmuth said, before cutting the line.

Johan moved as he asked. The hallways were a bizarre series of poorly made drawings, occasional motivational quotes, and colourful animals, with demonic eight pointed stars of the great enemy covering them over, and a painting or portrait of the arch-heretic of this hive in every chamber.

When Johan arrived, he found his master, Initiate Helmuth, standing in a door frame.

“Johan.” he said, not turning from whatever was in the room.

“Yes sir.”

“I need you to kill heretics today. It is a test.”

Johan was confused. He had been doing a lot of that lately, and with no complaint or issue.

“Naturally sir. And then we’ll move on to the next objective?”

Helmuth said nothing. There was muffled scuffling and moaning inside, perhaps even weeping?

Helmuth stood aside. “Before you shoot, look.” he said, gesturing Johan inside.

Johan did as commanded, his weapon raised, but did not like what he had found.

A young woman, probably in her 30′s lay dead slumped in the corner. a bloody trench knife lay just beyond her fingertips. Her skin was riddled with endless icons of the arch-enemy, stars, sigils heralding multiple dark gods, all manner of things discussed in the Liber Daemonicum. What was unusual was her civilian outfit, a fairly unassuming and normal looking one witha short skirt and a small well fitted suit-coat that probably fit nicely and looked smart at one point. Take away the scars, and she could have very easily been an up and coming middle class hiver, in the prime years of her life.

Johan’s gaze drifted from her, to a pack of children, huddled among themselves, somewhat malnourished probably from the siege. Some were as young as five years. Others closer to 10 or 11, and these older ones did their best to cover and protect the younger ones.

Johan was about to reach out and calm them, when he saw to his horror more important details.

Each child bore the mark of chaos taint. A five year old boy that cried softly was adorned with the pox tattoo of nurgle, and looked sickly indeed. The oldest girl showed the mark of slaanesh and flicked a long forked tongue at him. One or two had eyes of glowing blue energy, and were surely owned by Tzeentch.

Johan hesitated. He lowered his bolter, and glanced at Helmuth.

“Sir- I, they’re only ki-”

There was a blurr as a 9 year old boy with ripped clothes and a full face tattoo of Khorne yanked the knife from his teacher or caretaker’s dead hand and stabbed at Johan, plunging the knife into the marine’s exposed leg, before ripping it out and preparing to go again.

“Blood!” the boy screamed, giddy.

Johan’s reflexes acted for him, and in as little as three movements,slit the child’s throat with his own captured trench knife, before dropping both to the deck and fumbling with his bolter.

“They are not innocent any more.” Helmuth said, flatly.

“This is not a galaxy where a man can act wholly in the light. This is not a world where goodness and purity can save a corrupt soul. These young ones never had a chance Johan. They were born in wickedness and taken by it. Everything they know, everything they are, is corruption.”

Johan still couldnt, even as he bled from a fresh wound in the leg.

“They’re just children!” he shouted, boltgun moving from target to target, the children remaining deathly still.

“In this universe, you will be expected to kill children, weak, infirm, mutants and plague bearers who hold only love for the Emperor, injured and surrendering xenos, and even me, if I fall Johan.”

Johan said nothing.

“Do you understand? That is the OATH, the one YOU TOOK. You said you would destroy the emperor’s enemies? HERE THEY ARE. FIRE YOUR WEAPON.”

Johan shouted back. “They couldnt possibly hurt the emperor! They’re just kids!”

Johan heard a click. Behind him, Helmuth had placed his bolt pistol Johan’s skull.

“I can make it easy on you boy. The reports will say you died a casualty to enemy fire. I’ll have you posthumously made an initiate. You wont have to make the hard call ever again. Only me, and the emperor will know your weakness. Son, if you can’t do this- if you cannot become what the emperor and the universe needs, let me know. It will be painless.”

Johan froze, not sure what to do.

“Or.”

Helmuth spoke slowly.

“You can wake up. One of these boys just stabbed you. The little boy with the mark of nurgle- what will he grow up to be? A herald carrying new taint to unsuspecting villages? A plague zombie? A demon host? The tzeentchian children, what will become of them? Sacrifices for some eldritch daemon? Daemonhosts? Witch psykers to terrorize our realms? Consider. Think.”

Johan did. He thought a lot, in a short period of time.

“In this room, theres you, the Emperor, me, and the Dark Gods of Chaos. Choose what side you’ll be on.”

Johan succumbed to emotion. His bolter shook with anguish. Letting out a howl of pain, he used precision to sweep the bolter from child to child, a bolt for each one as furious tears ran down his face.

“I’M SORRY!” he screamed, continuing to fire long after all had died.

“I’M SO SORRY!”

The bolter clicked dry. The magazine was empty. Johan pulled the trigger again and again anyway.

“WHY?! WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT TO YOU?”

Helmuth said nothing.

“WHY!” Johan shouted throwing the heavy weapon to the floor and falling to his knees.

Helmuth at last spoke, softly.

“Because there are two truths in this universe, neophyte. There is the Imperial Truth, and the laughter of thirsting gods. Did you think the arch enemy was some kind of joke? Did you join this crusade resolute that there was but one power in the universe? No. The emperor is not the only god. There are many, they are powerful, and they are malevolent. They will use people as puppets. They will twist their flesh and their innocence rotten. They will plant doubt in your heart and attack when you are weakest.”

Helmuth grabbed Johan and held him at eye level.

“I did not lie. I brought you here to kill heretics. You killed them. You passed the test. There will be others, all throughout your time as a crusader. Some will be this difficult, others, even more so. Always remember that there is a choice, and that you must live with that choice. Do not be weak, boy. Accept what you have done. Do not lie and say the Imperial cult releases you from that sinking feeling in your gut.”

Johan was visibly confused. “But the holy light of terra purifies us of sin.”

Helmuth shook his head. “It does not. the holy light of terra teaches us not to sin, and teaches us the paths which we must tread in life, but sin is eternal, my son. Only a saint or the emperor himself could dare to presume so much as to forgive it. This is why the wickedness of the fallen is irredeemable.”

“Then, Helmuth, how do we carry on, wading through endless sin and misery as we wage the emperor’s wars?”

“We follow the Emperor’s path to balance the atrocities we must commit to save his realm, and more important, we understand always, that the alternative- giving into sin, is infinitely worse”

An incendiary grenade was tossed into the room, and both left the building in silence.

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gastvn · 7 years

Text

Bath

« For the Thirty Days of Beauty and the Beast challenge. »

Available on AO3, too!

Notes: Parts of this will be in one of my upcoming fics. Enjoy!

Sometimes Gaston wished that he had never woken up at all. Death would’ve been better than sitting around with nothing to do but stew in his own guilt.

He remained in bed and mostly read, whiling away the monotonous minutes in silence. Attempting to stand was still a daunting task, but he was sick of being confined to his four-poster. He could either read, do nothing, or sleep - and he dreaded sleeping. LeFou’s presence in the adjoined guest room put him on edge, and he couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t as if they had never stayed together before; many nights, Gaston hadn’t been able to make his drunken way home without toppling over, so he and LeFou stayed at his house, which was only a little ways away from the pub.

When he did sleep, he didn’t dream, which was even stranger. He wasn’t sure if it was because of sheer exhaustion or lack of stimulation, but it was unsettling nonetheless. So while LeFou was gone running errands or working, Gaston stayed awake despite his fatigue.

At least, he assumed that LeFou was working when he went away for several hours every day, although he wasn’t sure where. Before the fall, they hadn’t really worked; living was more than manageable after the war, what with Gaston’s hunting and heroism and all. LeFou scraped by, occasionally taking a few odd jobs from his neighbors when he needed to, and Gaston was always more than happy to buy him dinner in exchange for something trivial (like a back rub or a song).

On the sixteenth day since he’d regained consciousness, he asked LeFou when he came home if he could help him take a bath. His quarters smelt of sweat, urine, and blood, and his wounds were in dire need of a proper wash (as opposed to LeFou dabbing them with ointment and redressing them every few hours).

“Can you get up?” LeFou asked, looking very, very tired. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced than usual; he must’ve had a hard day, and to think that he was willing to help Gaston bathe...

“I think so.”

“Alright.”

While he went to draw some water from the well, Gaston attempted to stand, pushing himself to the edge of the bed and tentatively rising. He was successful for the most part, but walking was still incredibly difficult. LeFou would have to assist him.

He waited for a while and watched LeFou enter and exit the room, pouring buckets of water into the basin he had lit a fire under. When it was nearly full, he escorted Gaston into the bathroom, somehow managing to support him (he must’ve lost a lot of weight during his period of unconsciousness).

For some reason, a sheet had been thrown over the mirror above the sink.

“LeFou,” Gaston started, but he was cut off.

“Do you need help stripping down?”

“I -”

LeFou didn’t wait for an answer, unbuttoning Gaston’s shirt for him and pulling it over his head to reveal that monstrous scar. Gaston drew back, however, when the other man reached for the drawstring of his britches. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable; he and LeFou had seen each other many times before, on hunting trips and the like, but he didn’t want his friend to see his malnourished, sickly form. His companion deserved only the best, and Gaston would only bare himself in front of him when he was in tip-top condition.

“I can get it myself,” he mumbled, and LeFou nodded, leaving the room and closing the door. He shakily dropped his pants, took off his underclothes, and stepped into the tub, water spilling over the sides.

There was a knock a few moments later, and at Gaston’s invitation, LeFou came back inside, tsking at the dirty bathwater pooling in the dips of the wooden floor. Gaston felt guilty as he watched LeFou roll his sleeves up, bend down, and mop it up with a towel, and when the smaller man straightened up again and made to stand, he took his hand.

LeFou didn’t pull away, but he could sense his discomfort.

“You seem so different now,” he said tentatively, feeling LeFou tense at his words. “No, please don’t go. I... I don’t know why, but things have changed, and I don’t like it.”

“Trust me, I never wanted it to be like this, either,” LeFou said sardonically. He pulled his hand away and stood up, resting the damp towel on the counter. “I’m leaving the door open, but I won’t come in unless you ask. Call if you need help.”

“LeFou -”

His nurse left, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him.

After a painful half hour of scrubbing, Gaston felt clean and finally rose from the tub, changing into a fresh set of clothes that LeFou had laid out. He hobbled back into the bedroom to find him sitting on the bed, writing in a book of some kind.

“Is there anything else you need help with?” he asked as Gaston sat down on the bed next to him, not looking up from the journal.

“No, I’m all right.”

“Your hair’s still wet. Do you want me to dry it?”

Not waiting for a response, LeFou picked up the dry towel next to him and positioned himself behind Gaston, pulling it through his loose curls.

“You need a haircut,” he said softly, eventually setting the towel down and picking up a wooden comb.

“I know,” Gaston murmured, reaching back with his uninjured hand and taking LeFou’s. There was silence for a few minutes as they simply sat there, holding each other’s hand, and then LeFou moved forward, hugging him from behind. His hands brushed the scar on Gaston’s chest, and although it hurt, he was comforted by the other man (who he was slowly realizing was the love of his life) nonetheless.

#liv rants #my writing #ficlet #30 days of beauty and the beast #bath #gafou #batb2017 #beauty and the beast #gaston lives #post canon

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pandabearlikes · 7 years

Text

My Husband, Kim JunMeow

Table of Contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Chapter o5. Summer 1996

Unrestrained, the two of us passionately kiss. Our heads bobble against one another as we unleash our sinful emotions. I almost choke from holding my breath for so long. Fumbling, I round my arms around to unclasp my bra but Junmyeon grips onto my wrist. He props himself up.

“You’re drunk…” my lover notes.

“I’m not,” I counter, though, truthfully…I’m starting to see images in double.

Hushing me, Junmyeon gets off the bed and starts to tuck me in under the blankets.

“Kim. Jun. Myeon. Do you want to be my lover?” I toss out the bold question through my gibberish.

“You know I wouldn’t do that to you while you’re like this…” he reasons as he finally subdues me enough to stop thrashing the covers off. I whimper and roll around, greeting him with my bare back. With a soft chuckle, Junmyeon traces a heart along my skin and seals his feelings with a kiss. I shudder and go in and out of consciousness. My body feels as though it’s floating in mid-air.

My guardian spends the next few minutes quietly admiring my cherubic facial features. They’ve matured a lot since he first laid his eyes on me, but to him, I’m still as beautiful as ever…if not more so now.

“You still like him, don’t you?” Junmyeon says, almost sadly while brushing his thumb across my temple. He recalls the giddy little girl chasing after a cute older boy.

Soft sniffles morph into whimpers. A quiet pearl rolls down the corner of my eye. Junmyeon catches it with his finger, letting the cool liquid disperse back into the Heavens. Leaning over, he plants a loving kiss on the center of my forehead, hoping to alleviate the grimace plaguing my angelic face.

“Su...ho…” I softly sob. Junmyeon freezes. “Suho,” I repeat, this time clearer. Distilled liquid wavers in his twin orbs as he grabs hold of my outstretched hands. “Please…” I weep in my sleep, “…don’t separate us…”

“Ring-a-round the rosie, a pocket full of posies…Ashes! Ashes! We all fall down!” little kiddies sing as they skip, hand-in-hand, in circles.

The youngest of the bunch, a little girl with pigtails and a baby blue dress, is too late to fall down. She stands in her spot, innocently turning her head from left and right.

"Argh! She’s so stupid,” one insults.

The little girl blinks and tries to take the older girls’ hands again to retry the game. With an annoyed sigh, they sing and try to run in circles again but the baby’s steps are much smaller and slower due to her size. Again, she fails to comply with the game rules.

“You’re so stupid!” the older female jeers and pushes the younger child down onto the floor. Her baby skin soils in wet mud and she burst into tears. “Haha! There. Finally down! Now go!” the mean girl shoos. Her group of friends kick dirt onto the girl; some pick rotten berries from the nearby tree to throw at her.

“Minseok Oppa!!!” she calls and runs off. Her stubby legs only make it a short distance before she falls onto the ground. “Min…seok…Oppa?” she murmurs as she watches the residential cute boy playing on the big-kid slide with an older girl. The little girl’s parents had entrusted the boy to watch out for her, but he’s too busy to notice her.

“Minseok Oppa…” she innocently stumbles up to the blocked off area.

“Yah! Careful! Go away!” he hisses and waves her away, “You’re too young to be here. Go play elsewhere.”

Lips ripple, “Oppa, they pushed me—“

“What? Who—“

“Minseok-yah! Let’s go down the slide again!” the oblivious older girl grabs Minseok’s hand and pulls him away. He watches as the little girl lowers her head, turns around, and waddles away. When he finally shakes his friend’s grasp away, the girl is already gone.

Though only a toddler, the young girl already resorts to hiding in secluded places by herself whenever she feels as though she’s about to cry. She learns it from all the times she hears her parents fighting at home; she thinks that in the dark, people can’t see her, therefore, they can’t hurt her. Today, in this foreign atmosphere, she discovers her safe haven within a street trashcan.

Everything is pitch black and it’s cold. She starts to cry - though still reserved and quiet because she’s still scared to get caught. And then, she starts to release her suppressed emotions about the recent bully event and more-so the fact that her Minseok Oppa disregarded her. Her small body starts to convulse and the sudden onslaught of sobs cuts her air short. Frightened, she stands up, reaches her baby arms over her head, and tries to open the lid but it won’t budge. She gasp and tries again but it’s locked.

“Ma…” she thinks about shouting but remembers her skewed impression that in the dark she’s invisible and no one can hear her; thus, no one will find her. Shivering, she falls back down onto the base of the trashcan, rolls herself into a ball, and starts to quietly sob to herself.

“Meow…” a friendly sound echoes within the container.

Peeping her head out, the girl spots a pair of round eyes. The owner advances toward her, causing her to shrivel up into the corner.

“Meow~” the kitten, who has been silently watching her this whole time, scoots himself, paw by paw, up to the little human. “Meow…” he purrs and brushes his fluffy body against the trembling girl as if to provide her with some heat.

It isn’t until he climbs onto her lap, does she realize that the creature who can see her in the dark, when everyone disregarded her, isn’t a scary Monster of the Night out to feed on her flesh, but a tiny fur ball.

“Meow~” the kitty tilts his head and looks her in the eyes, as if saying, “Don’t cry, I’m here too". Reflexively, the feline starts to knead the girl’s belly.

“Are you hiding too?” she asks in her high pitched voice. “You’re so smol…you’re smoler than me…” she observes when her vision finally accommodates to the darkness. Her malnourished new friend nuzzles his head against her tummy and purrs. “Did the big kitties not pay with you, either?” the little girl pouts and pets the baby cat on his head.

“Meow…” his high pitch voice matches hers with perfection.

“It’s okay! I’ll pay wit chu!” she announces in excitement and then shyly inquires, “Do chu want to be fwiends?”

Meow!!” the abandoned kitten pounces up and down with joy.

They start to share conversations only they understand; the human toddler talks about how her bullies pushed her down and how her Minseok Oppa ignored her and the kitten responds with “Meows” and warm cuddles. Soon, the two of them fall asleep. Outside, day turns to night…night turns to day. But the two bonded souls only see darkness.

Amber alerts go out.

Both are starving and cold. The girl starts to sob again and the kitten automatically begins to sooth her with his light pats.

“Do you have a name?” she asks between weeps.

“Meow :(“

“Suho,” the girl names, “My mummy says it means ‘potector'!”

“Meow~” the kitty’s soft orbs turn into hearts as the girl takes her silver bell bracelet and puts it around her friend’s neck.

“We can protect each other,” she braves a smile, takes the kitty into her arms, and hugs him because she feels a sense of warmth she’s never felt before.

“Suho…” I choke out between sobs.

“I’m here. I’m right here…” Junmyeon rubs and brings my shaking hands up to his lips.

“It’s okay. I’m not scared when I’m with you…” the baby girl keeps repeating to herself as she falls in and out of consciousness. The white kitten head butts her several times to keep her awake. It’s been two and a half days. Summer mornings blaze with hot sun, turning the metal dumpster into a boiling pot; nights are colder than snow storms. The extreme temperature changes prove to be tolling on the young lives’ health. When garbagemen finally discovers them, they’re both unconscious and wrapped in each other’s arms.

“She loves the cat, let’s let her keep him,” her mother suggests when the sickly girl cries for her feline friend even as she’s convulsing from the fever. Almost a miracle, she makes remarkable progress when they place the now washed and healthy kitten beside her in bed.

“Suho!” she beams as she runs around the garden, letting her pigtails bounce up and down. Her best friend chases after her, the bell around his neck jingling pure bliss into the air. Giggling, the tiny girl falls onto the grass, letting the kitty climb onto her belly.

They become inseparable.

“Suho…” the toddler rolls onto her tummy in bed after her mother finishes tucking her in. Soft glows of her night light draw a halo around Suho’s fluffy head. He hops onto her bed, something that’s forbidden by the girl’s parents - but it’s okay when they are alone. Naturally, he nestles in to the croak of his human’s neck and starts to doze off to sweet slumber. “I’m not going to marry Minseok Oppa,” she decisively states. The kitten perks up, tilts his head to one side, and stares at her. “When I grow up, I’m going to marry you!” she announces as she kisses his pink nose.

“TOSS HIM OUT!” her father shouts as soon as the doctors diagnose the girl’s fever and swollen cut as “Cat Scratch Disease”.

She wails as her mom carries her away. Her illness lasts the entirety of a month and due to the late diagnosis, the high fever had stolen away parts of her memory.

“Suho?” she’d randomly call as she looks out the window as if waiting for someone but not knowing who.

“Just your imagination, Honey. Cats are dangerous. Don’t go near them,” her mother strokes her head and brings the confused girl into her embrace.

I jolt up in bed with tears rushing down my cheeks. Vertigo paralyses my consciousness, blood rushes down from my head. I pull my hand up to alleviate my dizziness, only to find out that it is intertwined with Junmyeon’s. He had fallen asleep with his head resting on the side of my bed. My tug stirs him awake.

“He-hey…” he greets, his voice hoarse. As soon as his initial grogginess dispels, he spots the streams rushing down my porcelain face. His brows dive. “Wuh-what’s wrong?”

Shaking my head, I turn away and try to wipe away the tears but Junmyeon gets up and spins me around. I hiccup, more streams rush down my cheeks, for reasons, I don’t even know. Images from my dream starts in fade, first, slowly so that I still recall the coldness of the trashcan or the boiling heat of my forehead…the soft white fur of Suho…and then…I start to just recall his high pitch “Meow…” Suho…then in record speed, all the recollections accelerate and vanish. Just like that…leaving a hole in my heart I didn’t know why or how to fill.

“Why are you crying?” the caring gentleman inquires as he holds me against his chest.

“I…don’t…know?” I reply as I weep. It takes another hour or so of cuddling before Junmyeon deems me “fine” enough for him to let go. A small smile clings on my lips as I watch him walk out to fetch me some water. So protective…

“We can protect each other!” a little girl’s voice sounds in my mind.

Wincing, I hold my throbbing head.

“Headache?” my lover sprints from the doorway to my side. “You drank too much last night…” he shakes his head and hands me the glass of water.

“Ye-yeah…I think I drank a little too much…” I admit.

“A little?” Junmyeon raises his brow and runs his fingers through my hair.

“Let’s have sex,” I recall my own voice saying. Slowly, reality hits me hard. I remember my lips massaging his…my trying to undress…

I slap a hand against my lips and stared wide-eyed at Junmyeon. The strange part is that, I’m now fully dressed in PJs.

“Wuh-what…” I stutter as I rolled both my palms and hold it up to my face. Junmyeon brings my head to rest against his chest again and proceeds to start massaging my temples. And lemme tell you, if this boy isn’t a part-time nudist, he is definitely a masseur…his touch is so soft but strong, hitting the pressure points with perfection.

Automatically, my head tosses back and I groan with pleasure. His chuckle tinges my cheeks in bubblegum pink.

“Did you…help me get dressed?” I bite my lower lip and murmur.

“Ah, yeah…I didn’t want you to catch a cold,” Junmyeon explains so casually, as if he does this all the time. Frowning, I rub the back of my neck. He misinterprets it as my muscles are stiff and brings his hands down to massage the area. I fail to stifle back a giggle when he brushes over a weak spot. His gentleman soft smile twitches into a smirk. Naughtily, he runs his fingertips over that area.

“HEY!” I whip my head around and laugh through my pout.

“Now, I know your ticklish spot,” he does a pretend-evil cackle. His goofiness gives me so much life. “You’re always attacking my weak spot, now I can finally have revenge!” Junmyeon teases.

“What are you talking about? When have I attacked you?”

“You always tickle my belly!” Junmyeon crinkles his nose and throws me a pretend grumpy pout.

“When did I…wait…,” I smirk, “So your weak spot is your belly?!” I say as my tickle fingers activate and I attack him on his abdomen. Mellifluous giggles ring from my ears to his. The two of us fall against the bed. Out of breath and weak from laughing so hard, I withdraw my hands but my retreat is Junmyeon’s cue to advance. I gasp as the handsome male grabs either sides of my waist, rolls me over, and pins me against the bed. Pupils dart back and forth, the bluish hue of his unique orbs flashes with vibrancy.

“So…about the request you made last night…” he leans over and whispers into my ear. I gulp.

“Let’s have sex.”

“Wuh-what…request?” I pant from my overactive heart. My lover strokes my jawline and teases me with a shrug. “Ah, maybe next time then.”

As he starts to get up, I grab his wrist. Peering into my fearful but desperate eyes, Junmyeon sits back down on the bed. An aura of seriousness replaces that of his previous playfulness. “I’m not who you think I am…” he acknowledges. With soften expression, he strokes my hair, leans over, and plants a kiss on the center of my forehead. As I close my eyes, a quiet sigh slips through my lips. “I’ll make breakfast,” he volunteers and gets up. This time, I don’t stop him.

“JunMeow-ah, where are you?” The worried potato cat mom in me hunches over, with a cat toy in my hand, to lure out my feline friend. But the white fluff is nowhere in sight. With a frown, I join Junmyeon in the kitchen.

“This disloyal cat,” I grumpily murmur.

“Hm?” my lover blinks and pouts as if I had insulted him.

“He keeps running off somewhere. I bet he has a lover,” I conclude. As I sip on some apple juice, I narrow my eyes and add, “Maybe multiple lovers…”

“What? No! No, he doesn’t!” Junmyeon defends.

Raising my brow, I question, “How do you know?”

He flattens his lips and uses the excuse that the eggs on the pan are burning to avoid my interrogation.

“Either way, I booked an appointment to get him neutered so he won’t be out and about much longer~” I singsong as I slip into my seat on the kitchen counter.

Junmyeon almost drops the pan. With widened eyes, he brings his free hand protectively over his groan.

“Ahhh!!!” I shrill.

Startled, Junmyeon, who had been reviewing my chemistry homework for mistakes, gets up and sprints over to the bathroom. He bangs the door but I’m too traumatized to respond. Another few moments of silence forces the concerned male to kick down the barrier.

I blink. Reflexively, his oscillating orbs dart down the curvatures of my wet body. Only clothed in a thin bath towel that highlighted only the most attractive parts, there is not much left for imagination. Hair sticks against my small face, framing it to perfection. Water droplets rush down, collecting at the hollows of my collarbone. Junmyeon is as stiff as a statue at the doorway.

“mMM!!!” I bounce up and down on my toes and point at a corner of the bathroom. Still, the stunned man can’t seem to remove his eyes from my body, especially since I wasn’t really being cautious with my movements. The short hops only causes his mind to go wild when my amble breasts rode along. It’s not until I squeal again and leap over to him that he finally slaps himself awake. “Junmyeon!!! Rat!”

Tilting his had to the side, he follows my pointer finger and catches the little rodent sniffling behind the toilet. With a smirk, the human cat confidently strides over and lets his shadow hover over the smaller creature. Immediately, the rat’s eyes widens and it starts to squeeze in between a small gap to avoid capture. Unfortunately, Junmyeon is too quick for him; in one swift swipe, he lifts the mouse up by the tail.

“AHHHHH!” I scramble as goosebumps rise along my arm.

With a mischievous grin, Junmyeon starts to walk over to me. Anxiously, I shake my head and hands until he corners me against the opposite wall.

“It’s kinda cute,” Junmyeon remarks as he observes the dangling rodent. He holds it up to my face so I could see.

“NO! NO!” I shout but the boy is a little too playful today.

In efforts to get away from my musophobia, I flee through a small escape. Unfortunately, my escape plan fails when the bottom of my feet battles a wet puddle on the tiled floors. As my body starts to lose its balance, Junmyeon heaves, tosses the mice into the air to free his hands, and catches me by the waist.

“Are you—“

PLAT

A furry gray mass blurs my vision. The rodent had landed right dab on the center of my forehead. Within Junmyeon’s arms, I stiffen in place, not daring to move a single inch because its sharp razor-blade teeth could easily blind me.

“Jun…Junmyeon…ah…” I whimper through my trembling lips.

With ease, the brave warrior picks up the rodent by its tail again, releasing me of torture. Immediately, I wash my face. My reflection is a complete mess; wet hair disheveled with a few matted areas and towel barely clinging against the curve of my breast…but at this moment, I could care less. Frowning, I cross my arms over my chest and turn to my lover who is laying on his stomach, on the bathroom floor, fooling around with his new friend.

“What are you doing?” I ask with my brows knitted together.

To my dismay, he exclaims, “It’s so cute!”

“Kim Junmyeon, are you serious?”

“Can we keep it?!” the kitty boy looks up with a toothy grin. It immediately falls when he sees the fright written on my face; my eyes toggle with brimming tears.

Lips rippling, I dash out of the bathroom, calling, “JunMeow-ah…JunMeow, where are you? I’m being bullied…” I dramatically sob to my cat, who’s been missing for three days.

“I’ll free it to the sewers!!!” Junmyeon, immediately, corrects.

“Where are you…?” I whisper as my mind can’t seem to concentrate on my homework when it’s worrying over my missing cat. It’s been almost a week.

“I’m right here,” Junmyeon, who’s beside me, answers. “You used the wrong equation for this problem,” he points out as he looks over my assignments. I throw him a grim look. Yeah, it’s fun to have Junmyeon around but the thought of my little baby wandering the streets with no yummy fish to eat rocks me with sorrow.

“I want to go look for JunMeow,” I curl up into a ball and admit.

My tutor’s face softens at my confession. Had he finally captured my heart?

“I’m sure he’ll come back soon,” the handsome male squeezes my hand.

I peep my head out from my knees and look up at him, questionably. “How do you know?”

“Tonight. There’s a chance he will be back tonight,” he reassures.

Slowly, my frown fades away. Kim Junmyeon may be a mysterious human being but he never breaks any promises. With his beautiful smile, he reaches out and pinches my pink nose.

“Don’t worry. If he knew that you loved him that much, he wouldn’t have left in the first place…” he makes an unconscious confession. His eyes are distant and a little troubled. But they’re so gorgeous, especially with his framed specs. My heart flutters as I grow giddy at the thought of a smart husband.

“Heh…” I let out a giggle.

“We’re kinda out of food…” my lover reminds. Unfortunately, two stomachs empty out the fridge faster than one.

“Let’s go grocery shopping!” I announce. Without wasting another second, I slip my fingers through his and tug him along.

“Is it a date?” Junmyeon coyly questions while tightening the grip on my hand. His grin is not soft and lovely like normal, but cheesy and greasy. He almost looks like JunMeow after he finishes a good meal.

“Hm…maybe…” I tease while swinging his hand as we skip down the side walk. I hop to a stop and spin to face him. “Do you want it to be a date?” I try to hide my hope and bashfulness by boldly asking.

Junmyeon answers by leaning over and swiftly stealing a quick peck on my lips. Casually, he starts to walk off, leaving me flailing around like a lovestruck kitten. Biting my lower lip, I call and chase after him. With a bright beaming expression, my lover halts in his tracks to allow me to catch up. My arms naturally find his hip and he throws an arm over my shoulder.

“Let’s get some yummy food before it rains,” Junmyeon suggests and plants a sweet kiss on the top of my head.

Excitedly, I nod. Fish, fish, and more fish. Chicken, carrots, peas, and green beans. I pick up some tomatoes and Junmyeon grimaces.

“You don’t like tomatoes?” I inquire as I marvel at how round and cute the tiny vegetables are.

My lover shakes his head. “I’m allergic to them. But you should get them if you like them,” he encourages, takes the bunch of tomatoes from my hand, and puts it onto the cart. I beam and nuzzle my head against his arm as if I’m a cat. Chuckling, he lovingly pets my head.

As we head to pay for the groceries, we pass the pet aisle. Automatically, my feet advances forward, as if there is an magnetic pull, pulling me in. My fingers run across the canned food and kitty litter, stopping at a feather toy shaped like a mouse. Junmyeon follows behind and puts both his palms on the balls of my shoulders.

“You think JunMeow would like this?” I ponder out loud, my voice a soft whisper.

“He would love it,” my lover replies. I turn to him with a sad smile. “Anything you get him, he would love,” he adds.

“Do you want to pick one out for him too? When he comes back, you can gift it to him as a first meeting present,” I suggest. Junmyeon perks up at the idea. “JunMeow is a little coo-coo when visitors try to play with him.”

“Heh…” the catman anxiously rubs his neck.

When we exit the store, gray clouds loom over us from above. With a frown, I create a hand visor and tilt my head up to the gloomy sky that didn’t quite fit the romantic and happy day I was having.

“It looks like it’s going to rain, we better hurry back,” I say.

My lover tenses up and hesitantly follows me. He’s abnormally quiet so I try to initiate some surface conversations but all he does is answer with short, “Uh, yeah…” and “Mmhmm…” as his mind is distressed with the bad timing of everything. Midway home, it starts to drizzle. I hold my palm out to catch a perfectly round rain droplet. Giggling, I start to spin in circles. Sometimes, it’s best to just dance in the rain instead of running away from it, after all. But I pause as soon as I spot Junmyeon’s agitated expression.

“Something wrong?” I skip up to him and inquire.

My voice brings him back to reality. “Uh…uh…hey, I’m sorry.”

I blink as he hands me the bags of groceries, he wouldn’t let me carry at all before.

“I have an emergency. I have to go,” he briefs.

Again, I blink. It starts to pour. Panicking, Junmyeon darts into the alleyway. “I’ll be back soon! Don’t worry!!” his promise fades with the growing distance.

“Oh…kay…” I reply to an empty alley. Shrugging the sorrow off, I hold a hand over my head and sprint my way home. Despite, the effort, I end up drenched.

“Argh, I should have brought an umbrella,” I groan as I stomp up the stairs. My wet shoes squeak with every step. With a sigh, I dig in my pockets for my keys. When I look up at my doorway, I’m greeted by a very soaking soppy white cat.

“Meow~” he calls.

I drop the grocery bags and get down on my knees. “JunMeow!!” I shout and throw my arms over him. “Where have you—“ I start but stop and put him at an arm’s length. Cringing, I comment, “You smell like a wet cat.” No duh.

Scooting him inside the apartment, I struggle but eventually carry the stubborn cat into the bathtub by threatening that either he takes a shower or he’s sleeping on the floor. As I prepare the pet shampoo and the towels, I can’t help but laugh at his face of doom.

“Why, Honey? Showers are so therapeutic,” I chuckle.

“Meow >:(,” he groans, which only makes me laugh harder.

“Wanna bathe together, then? I’m soaked too,” I make a Devil’s bargain purely as a joke. The cat starts to choke and hack out coughs. Gasping, I get down on my knees and stroke his back. “See, look at you, you ran away and caught a cold, you dumb butt,” I half-scold and start to massage the soap into his fur. His eyes roll back and for the first time in his kitty life, JunMeow discovers that baths can be delightful.

“Stop running away,” I nag again.

“Meow…” my kitty responds and obediently closes his eyes when I hold the shower head up to his face.

“Is your lover really that pretty?” I hold both his paws and ask.

“Meow :),” he licks the back of my hands.

“Hmph,” I pretend to pout, “So you keep leaving me for a pretty girl? Aren’t I pretty?”

JunMeow blinks. I throw a towel over his little body to dry him off.

Picking him up, I state, “Either way, you’re getting neutered tomorrow morning.”

“MEOWEOUWEUIWUEIOUWUEOUWEUOWUEOUUW,” the cat thrashes in my arms.

A/N: ₍₍(=ච ﻌ ච=) Ya’ll should know me by now, I trollol but sexy time will happen ;p just gonna build up some sexual tension first

Well, that’s if JunMeow doesn’t get neutered first! !?! (Дﾟ≡ﾟДﾟ) ?!!

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