#but then i was told the story of the boogie man

[theheavilycaffeinated4]

people always want to know what child movie traumatized you but they never want to know what movie was ruined because of something

[redheadjustin]

Damian finding a kid and just becomes said kids brother like he will stop patrolling and tuck in the kid and will sometimes read a story or show him a trick. One day he’s just like this kid needs family and just takes him home

Daiman Wyane was not necessarily known for his people skills. Not to say he couldn’t be nice, but this man is the son of Talia Al Guhl and Batman. People skill issues just ran in his blood. Though he tried his best to be kind though  he doesn’t want to let people get too close. He didn’t want to corrupt anyone. He knows he is not the best person around. If you wanted that you could look to the other members of the batfamily. 

In a lot of ways you were the same as damian. Your dad was one of Two-Face’s top henchmen. While your mom was a stripper at one of the more upscale clubs in Gotham. You didn’t play well with others. Though you do have friends. You were only 7 but you had anger issues and found it hard to trust others. And unfortunately your parents didn’t help any. Your dad enlisted you for many of the lower tasks that were asked of him from Two-Face. 

That’s how Robin met you. The 12 year old vigilante did not have much tolerance for criminals of any age. But Batman had seen situations like yours a thousand times over. So while Batman went to handle your father he sent Robin to help you. 

The first meeting between you two was tense to say the least. He’d found you carrying an envelope full of protection money that was meant to go to your father. Then to Two-Face. Robin drooped down in front of you which gave you a near heart attack. You’d heard of the bats. Your dad had warned you extensively about what would happen if the bats were ever to capture or get you alone. You were on your own. And no one could help. You felt fear and anxiety fill you. Robin approached you quietly. He knew the reasons why you were doing this. But, just seeing a kid who should be at home watching cartoons or something instead of running around Gotham doing your father’s dirty work. 

“I won’t harm you.” Damian’s voice came out softly. He wasn't Batman's partner right now. He was concerned about you. You could only nod. You had no clue why Robin would be kind to you. You didn’t know that he could relate to a parent using their child for their own selfish reasons. “What's in the envelope?” Damian had a pretty good ideal of what was in it. But he wanted to be sure. Depending on the answer his opinion of your dad would go up slightly or ensure a stabbing with his katana. “P-protection M-money” You replied, trying not to stutter. Behind his mask Damian’s eyes softened. He had failed to consider that you might have been told about the bat family as though they were the boogie man. The thought broke Damian's heart.

By the end of the night your dad was taken to Blackgate while Robin helped you home. Your mom wasn’t home yet. Still working at a club. Damian felt a brotherly bond forming. He wondered if this is how Grayson felt when he met Damian. He helped you into your pajamas and read you a story. And over the weeks it became routine. Damian stopped by a little over 2 hours into patrol to make sure you had dinner and your homework done then get you into pajamas and to bed.

This went on for six months until one day Bruce walked into the study that housed the entrance to the batcave and saw Damian sitting in the armchair while you were coloring on the floor. Damian simply looked up from his book. “We’re keeping him.” Bruce sighed, nodded, then called the adoption attorney. And that was that.

[chronically-ghosted]

you got your claws in me honey, like a tiger in love

rating: E for Explicit! 18+

word count: 8K

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

summary: you arrive at your estranged uncle's door. what else is there to do but catch up over grilled cheese? well, if you have anything to say about it, you might end up doing a bit more.

warnings: dbf!dieter, grilled cheese as a way to guilt trip your dad's best friend/uncle into fucking you, drug use (weed), raising arizona that comes with its own warning, flirting with someone twice your age, no smut — that’s what part 2 is for, reminiscing, a cliffhanger? 👀

a/n: the original fic came out MONTHS before the mcu rumors, so either i have precognition, or the apocalypse is becoming predicable. happy valentine's day you filthy animals because nothing says romance like porking your dad's best friend

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From the voicemail of Mr. Paul Landeau, official Hollywood talent manager and agent to one Mr. Dieter Bravo . . .

Tuesday, 6:43PM

No, I’m not doing it. I’m not. 

There has to be something else out there. Look, I know Fire Monsters: A Cliff Beasts story didn’t do as well as we hoped, but Reddit says it could be a cult classic so why don’t you focus on making that happen, okay? Instead of giving me shit roles like this. I’m not doing it. 

– the sound of a door opening and the phone being shuffled – – a zipper rips –  – liquid pouring –

We fucking talked about this, man. I told you I needed something different, something new. Tiktok is just reels of me screaming and dying – it’s fucking bullshit – 

– more liquid –

I’m done playing the fucking bad guy. I’m not signing any more headless action figures for those little snot-nosed, little fuckers in line. I’m not asking to sign their moms’ tits, either – okay, maybe – but Jesus Christ, Paul, what you sent over is, like, the opposite of where I need to be. It’s for little teeny boppers with one or two B horror movies under their belt to finally break out into the mainstream – or where actors over forty go to cash in an easy paycheck. And yes, I fucking know we need something, but fuck – is this really all there is?

– liquid stops pouring – – zipper rips – – the sound of a toilet flushing –

Don’t fucking call me back, Paul, unless you’ve got something. Something real.

Tuesday, 8:23PM

OW! Motherf–

– a skillet clattering – 

Okay – fuck, that hurts – okay, Paul, what about this? It came to me in the bathroom. Remember Jack from the Christmas party at the studio’s place? So, he’s got those two Sundance films, right, but they’re in Spanish, so not appealing to an American audience. Nicki told me that he’s thinking about doing another project, one with a wider appeal, and I’m thinking I should totally give him a call. I think we could vibe. I really liked his stuff – reminded me of my old small town, fucking around with the neighbor kids, you know? Kinda hometown hero sort of thing. 

– sharp inhale then a cough – 

It’s not my usual thing, but I think we should give it a try. Gimme a call. 

Oh, do you know how to make a grilled cheese sandwich? Been craving one but I think I might burn down my house if I try again and UberEats doesn’t reach the good places further south. Oh, fuck, wait – 

Hey Google, how do you make a fucking excellent grilled cheese?

Tuesday, 9:21PM

No, fucking– 

Siri – how.do.you.treat.a.burn? 

Calling. . . Burger King . . .

No! Fuck!

Tuesday, 10:49PM

Paul-y! Baby! Paul-ito!

Don’t worry. I got an idea that’s going to make us a million dollars. 

A shop that makes only grilled cheese. But like – fancy grilled cheese. What do the kids fucking call it, ah – boogie – yeah, boogie grilled cheese. Like gouda and white cheddar, and butter churned by blind nuns or some shit. Tomato soups that have been blessed by the Dalai Lama. 

Big sign out front that says, Vegans Can Eat Shit. 

They’ll eat it up. 

Fuck yeah, they will. 

– silence for three minutes and sixteen seconds –

Fuck acting, man. Fuck this place. 

And fuck this fucking cheese that keeps burning – goddamn it!

Tuesday, 11:52PM

Paul, why don’t we hang out anymore?

When I got started, we hung out all the time, man. 

Hot dogs on the Santa Monica pier. Beer in the Pacific Ocean. 

You showed me all the cool spots that no one else in LA knew about. You got me my first bump and my first stripper. God, that was fucking wild, man, you remember? I was so nervous I thought I was going to throw up. Did I ever tell you that before? Coke probably didn’t help a kid from a small town in South Cali, but – fuck, it made me feel better. Like I could get my shit together if I really tried.  

What, are you too good for me now – is that it? Am I not good enough for you, huh? 

Look, I’ve got Raising Arizona on right now, so why don’t you come over with a six pack – 

Oh, shit, that’s right. You got a fucking family now. 

Not a good influence, ol’ Dee. 

Not a good –

 

Wednesday, 1:05AM

Fine, Paul. Fine. 

I’ll play Mr. Fantastic in the Fantastic Four reboot. 

Dieter’s thumb brushes the red End Call button and tosses his phone onto the kitchen island with a growl. He can feel himself coming down from the bump earlier – a thing he absolutely did not want to happen – and he shoves his palms into his eye sockets. 

There is more coke upstairs, but that would require him to walk through his very long hallways to get there. Very long, and dark, and empty hallways. 

He should have asked Maria to stay once she was done with the laundry. He would have done it right too – big bowl of popcorn, fully dressed, with a sign around his neck that said, I promise I’m not trying to sleep with you. 

He is becoming increasingly aware of how many erratic voicemails he just left for his agent, aware that behavior like that was libel to get him a sit down in Paul’s office with all the blinds and windows closed, Paul’s narrow face serious and using Concerned Emotion #5, as he asks, “do we need to go back to rehab, Dieter?”

We. 

There once was a “we”, now there was just “he” – in a house with seven bedrooms and a pool that could fit a sixteen wheeler in it. 

And TWO kitchens – why the fuck did he think he needed two kitchens – 

Well, he knew he didn’t need two, but it would have been cool to show them off to someone – If there was anyone to show them off to . . .

Fuck this downer mood.

Dieter snatches up his phone again, and the movement brings up his latest apps. UberEats is the second one. He taps in a few keywords, blatantly ignoring his latest call list. 

Goddamn Burger King . . . 

The front doorbell rings. 

Dieter frowns, pulling the screen closer under his big nose. Now, he knows he is high and he knows he should be wearing his glasses when reading but there’s no fucking way . . .

He goes out of the kitchen, the room still smelling of burnt cheese with the cast iron skillet in the sink and a black husk sticking to its bottom. He goes left, then right, his robe tightly wrapped around him as if he is some huffy housewife, then down a hall and across the marble entrance way – fuming – why is this house so goddamn huge – who thought this was a good idea?

And so he wrenches open the front door – to a girl, not holding a Burger King bag. No, she’s got a roller suitcase behind her, bright blue, and she and the case are dripping wet. Like, just sprayed with a hose kind of wet and her big bottom lip is trembling. Behind her, the sky pukes buckets of rain, groaning with thunder. 

Now, he likes his call girls (he always thought it was classier to call them that) a little more . . . vampy than this, but hell, he had been turned on by much less than this— than her with her big eyes, fat droplets rolling off her lashes, flushed cheeks – and oh, shit, her shirt is totally see-through – is that purple, he feels the back of his mouth flush with spit – wow, is this Paul’s way of apology because – 

“Uncle Dee?” 

And he’s mentally shoving himself back into his pants because no one in years has called him that and that was a very different time in place, when he was a completely different person and if this girl is the person he thinks it is, then – Jesus Christ, he’s bound and gagged straight for hell – 

He squeaks out your name and you smile, sort of grimace, at him and wave. 

“Yep, it’s me. Been awhile, right?” You finally give into the mortification of your stupid plan and you scrunch up your face, your hand wrapped around your elbow. “Look, I’m so sorry, this is too weird. I don’t have your number, but I panicked when my flight got canceled and my phone’s dead and you’re the only person I know in LA and –,” 

“No, no – you’re fine – sorry–,” Dieter blinks before stepping back and letting you through. You sigh in relief and yank your baby blue suitcase over the threshold as you walk in, dripping water everywhere. “Sorry, it’s been a weird night and for, like, two seconds, I thought . . . nevermind . . .”

I thought you were a fucking ghost.

You bite the corner of your lip, glancing at him, knowing it was probably unwise to piss off your one chance at not sleeping on the ground tonight — or if what you were about to say would piss him off in the first place. 

“Yeah, well, it’s been eleven years since we last saw you, Uncle Dee.” 

Early on in his career, he wanted to build up rep as not only an actor but a real tough guy, so he asked if he could do some stunts for an old cop show. For all his bravado, he ended up getting a real round-house kick to the face and it sent him reeling.

This feels a little bit like that.

“No way, it can’t have been that long. Besides, I know I left my number with your dad or your grandma before I left and —,” 

His throat closes up when very old guilt washes over him. It’s intensified when you give him an uncomfortable look.

“So your dad didn’t give you my number then.”

It’s not a question. You shake your head. You don’t tell him that your dad tried to call years ago and got a busy tone for the first few, and then a few years after that, was brusquely informed the line had been disconnected. 

He chews on his lip. 

You try to smile at him again but then another shiver takes hold of you and Dieter grimaces. “Shit, sorry, one second. I think this closet down here has towels.” 

He all but sprint-walks down one of the many halls branching off from the entrance, the ends of his robes flapping. You hear the creak of doors, several, as he digs around in the walls. 

“Why do I have so many fucking linens?” You hear him grumble and you smile to yourself. You feel like you need to wring your hair out but wouldn’t dare move from the spot where he left you.

After a thump and more grumbling, he comes back, rubbing the back of his head, but holding out a giant lime green towel. In the light, you can see the dark circles under his eyes when you take the towel and immediately go to stop your hair from dripping on the marble.

His brain is waffling, ping ponging, between his memories and what is standing right in front of him. This? This is the little girl, not his literal blood relative, but she’s Enrico’s kid – Enrico, a slugger and one hell of a outfielder since he was eight years old, whose mom made enchiladas like nobody else in the goddamn world – Enrico, whose house became like a second home, Ricky's family a better family than his own – this is the same girl who hoarded Skittles like a fiend, the same one who he took to the pool on the weekends in the summer, and the zoo during Thanksgiving break? This little girl – 

– is the same girl who is all legs under damp denim, eyes that could make Cleopatra fly into a jealous rage, and a fucking rockstar smile? 

And, holy shit, those tits –  

Dude, you cannot be checking her out. Dig deep and fight your fucking caveman brain. You’ve fucked up a lot in your life and you cannot do that right now. You cannot do that to Enrico. 

You cannot do that to her.

You notice him grimace as he squints into the light of the chandelier above you both. “So, uh, not that I mind, but, uh, what are you doing here? I mean –,” 

You laugh and it seems to echo in the empty house. “No, that’s a fair question. I was on a flight back from looking at colleges out east and my flight got grounded in LAX because of the storm. I absolutely don’t have enough money to stay in a hotel or rent a car and drive back home, so I needed a place to crash and call my sister to send me some money. And my stupid driver didn’t want to get flagged for harassing a celebrity, so he dropped me off at the corner, hence . . .”

You wave at yourself and inside his slippers, his toes curl, respectfully not looking at your damp legs and a definitely purple bra visible through your shirt. 

Your mouth suddenly capsizes. “Shit, is that okay, if I stay here for a night? I didn’t even think - I - I’m not . . . interrupting anything, am I?” 

Dieter chuckles, your expression undeniably cute, and he shoves his hands into the pockets of his robe. 

“Nah. Not unless you call making the worst grilled cheese imaginable a party.” 

At that moment, your stomach chooses to make the most aggressive growl in your entire life and you flush deeper than the cold outside. 

“Apparently someone thinks that’s a good idea,” you chuckle weakly, horrified that your body is actively trying to sabotage a normal conversation. 

Did it matter that you had posters of him in your bedroom when you were thirteen? That you went to midnight releases of every one of his movies? 

No. Not at all. 

“I got some food, mostly leftovers.” He worries at his lip as he realizes the only thing by way of something green in his fridge is the jar of olives he got for martinis. Even then, he has a sneaking suspicion he replaced the olive juice with vodka, but the memory of that night is entirely butchered. “But, uh, I’m sure we can find something.”

You smile at him. “Actually, grilled cheese sounds great.” 

“Only if you do it.” He smiles, honestly, when you laugh. “What? Don’t laugh — I’m serious. I can’t make a sandwich to save my fucking life.” 

“Pretty sure I can manage two slices of bread and cheese.” 

His eyebrows jump as his lips press themselves together and you watch the thumb-sized bare spot on his beard twitch.

“Yeah, that’s what you think and then your goddamn kitchen is on fire.” 

“Lemme change, do some rocket surgery and brain science, and then I’ll attempt to crack this grilled cheese thing.” 

“Okay, but remember we do have Chinese leftovers and I can definitely crush a microwave. This way.” 

You follow him through the halls, his shoulders loosening underneath the off-green fuzz, and you try and not to stare at the immaculately beautiful walls and expansive, clean floors, so your eyes wander, and then you’re trying not to stare at the immaculately beautiful man in front of you. 

You push away the thought that this house looks nothing like you’d expect someone like Dieter to have, as he leads you to the kitchen — all black and chrome and steel, like what a Norwegian serial killer would have — and nods to a door towards the opposite wall. He’s digging around for the last slices of white bread when he says,

“Bathroom’s down there. I’ll get it all ready, but I’m leaving it up to you. Can’t afford to lose another pan.” 

Your eyes finally drift down from the bare walls, unsure if you should be offended that nothing of the family back home is here, or accept that there was just nothing personal anywhere. You smile gently at him and nod in thanks. 

He watches you go, that bright blue suitcase flashing as loud as a tornado siren, and he shakes his head. God, he needs a drink but drinking also makes him horny and he needs every mental facility available to him if he wis going to make it through this night with his sanity still intact. 

Had it really been eleven years? He always meant to call up Enrico and the old neighborhood gang. He probably forgot about that last fight anyway – even if Dieter hadn’t – even if it wasn’t more than a decade ago. Mama Gonzales always said there’d be a place for him, even after his own father said acting was for maricos and drag queens. It always hurt more when the postcards from the Gonzales family stopped coming than when Mom stopped calling. And he always meant to send back a proper return address when he moved out of that crappy loft after his first real movie premiere but that was the 90s, and much of the 90s was spent between working shit jobs and drooling on the floors of rave warehouses. It wasn’t them specifically he didn’t want to see him like that, but anyone. Anyone who knew him before Dieter Bravo. 

Certainly not anyone who called him Uncle Dee —

Something flashes in the corner of his eye and he realizes he’s always fucking hated the fact that the a) the back of his house is just one big window and b) he never bothered to put in curtains. Because, the thing with windows is they reflect things — things like his pseudo-niece taking her top off in his guest bathroom. Reflected and in full color right across his kitchen island like the sexiest hologram that will haunt his fucking wet dreams until the day hell freezes over. 

Yep, that’s definitely your hips, your ribs, and okay—

Nope. Absolutely not. 

Dieter’s knees give out and he crouches (more like slumps) to the floor behind the island, his palms so far in his eye sockets he can only see stars.

Yeah, only stars. Focus on the stars, not the image of the curve of your gorgeous tits that’s running around his brain like a child with scissors and a Thanatos instinct off the fucking charts. 

Fuck, and he just wanted to get high and watch Nicholas Cage in a mullet. 

“Hey, I’m done. Dee, you still here?”

He stifles a groan and stands up. You smile at him, the wet jeans and agonizing white tank top gone, only to be replaced by a black Fleetwood Mac tshirt and — fuck, where are your pants?

You lower the handle to your suitcase and go to stow by the bathroom door. And that’s when he realizes you are actually wearing pants, black shorts that are practically hidden by the oversized t-shirt and are comically, hilariously, painfully small. He can’t actually see the curve of your ass as you walk around the side of the island but he is absolutely not going to let his gaze linger long enough to confirm. 

He clears his throat as you come to stand beside him. He gestures to the four pieces of white bread and a stack of Crafts American cheese. 

“H-h-have —,” he clears his throat again and his forebearers groan collectively in embarrassment. “Have at it.” 

You smile and tuck your hair over your ear before picking up the knife. 

“D’you have mayonnaise? Butter?”  

No amount of irredeemable hotness can distract him from that. “What? What do you need mayonnaise for? It’s grilled cheese.”

You cluck your tongue, an eyebrow raised. “Brain science and rocket surgery, remember? Don’t question the master.”

He can’t help but chuckle as he goes to his steel monolith of a fridge. 

“Jeez, sorry, I asked,” he grumbles playfully.

He comes back with an (thankfully) unexpired jar and tub of butter and you get to work. Silence stretches a bit too long, something Dieter has never been good with, especially with beautiful women. He loves running his mouth and sometimes he's found that the women liked it too. He resigns himself to sit across from you at the island, watching you spread mayonnaise on both sides of the bread. 

“So, uh, how are the folks? How’s your, uh, dad?”

You nod slowly and even though he hasn’t been around in eleven years to pick up on all your tells, he swears your hackles go up.

“Fine. All good. Dad’s still at the car repair shop — owns it now, actually. Makes decent money, I guess.” 

“You guess?” He hadn’t made it his life’s work to mimic the human condition to not recognize cagey language. 

You glance at him briefly before flipping over the last piece of bread and dropping a dollop of mayonnaise on top. 

“Yeah. I — uh, we haven’t — I actually haven’t talked to them in a while. Though if I had, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.” You sneak another glance, this one ladened with a smile that had a secret curled up in its corners. “Serves me right, probably.”

“Yeah. Probably.” 

He can’t help but return the smile, one of a familiarity he hasn’t earned yet. You were smiling at him as if you two had years of secrets together, memories and inside jokes that were for the pair of you alone. For the life of him and all the water in his ridiculous pool, he couldn’t fathom why you were being so nice to him. Letting him off the hook. It had been eleven fucking years after all. There are a lot of things he takes guilt free from the world. Your fucking star-eyed smile is not one of them. 

So, he lets you off the hook. He doesn’t push it. If you don’t want to talk about your folks, he is happy to chatter aimlessly about something else. But, his brain winds up, what happened that caused you to fall out with your parents? Enrico, even back then, had been a hard ass, with you and your brothers. Always made sure to walk the straight and narrow. Detested drugs, always shined his shoes, thought tattoos were the devil, never kissed a girl on the first date — 

And here you are, making fucking mooneyes at his daughter. 

Well, one thing was for sure, he muses, something warm spreading in his gut, you are nothing like your daddy. 

The hiss of the bread hitting the hot butter in a pan (you didn’t even need to ask where another pan was, you just helped yourself to his cabinets and he couldn’t have been more proud) jerks him out of his daze and he realizes that annoying silence has set in again. 

“So, colleges, huh? Anything in particular spark interest?” 

You nod excitedly as he found a topic that made you glow. Clearly, no one had asked about your interests in a long time.

“Yeah, actually. Emerson in Boston was amazing. I loved the city, but not sure I’d survive the winter. Swarthmore sounds good, Amherst too, but again, cold.” You grin sheepishly and flip the sandwiches, pressing the spatula (he didn’t even know he owned one of those) into the bread, making the butter sizzle and the air fill with a smell that can only be described as mouth-watering. 

“It’ll be a nightmare, taking out loans for those places, but fuck, I think I’d be really happy there.” 

He leans against the counter, facing you with crossed arms. He smiles a smile that he knows doesn’t reach his eyes.

“What, your folks wouldn’t pay for it? Or at least help out?”

Something sharp flashes in your eyes, like a rabbit catching the scent of a predator, before you shrug your shoulders flippantly. A well-worn deflection, he notes, right next to the place where he’s got all the places you mentioned are about as far away from California as possible. If you had mentioned somewhere in Europe, he wouldn’t have been surprised. 

“Nah. I wouldn’t let them. Don’t want them thinking they get input into my life because they hold the purse strings over my head.” You turn off the stove and he moves to get the plates out from the cabinets – something to contribute as you made him a better meal than he’s had in ages. 

“So, uh, we eat in there?” You glance down the hall to the eerily clean dining room, a place he’s pretty sure he’s never once set foot in after three years of living in this goddamn mansion. 

He chuckles and shakes his head. “C’mon, I already have a movie picked out.” 

You follow him, plates hot, down carpeted stairs to clearly the only room in the house that Dieter actually lives in. The lights down here are low, much more bearable than the white spotlights of the kitchen. Against one wall, there’s a fully stocked bar, with most of the alcohol halfway empty and costing a fortune. Across from the stairs is a massive record collection, going up to the ceiling, next to a gorgeous old record player — all wood and black vinyl — with big, plushy earphones curled up on a black leather recliner. 

But the star of the show is the wall-to-ceiling television, with a brown, mouse-soft leather sofa that wraps like a giddy, up-turned grin in front of it. 

And of course, in between the superstar television and the cozy couch, is a low glass table where he had snorted lines of coke more times he could count and where a virgin joint sits, unsmoked and tempting. 

Dieter flushes as though he’d been caught by his parents with his pants down around his ankles. 

“Fuck, sorry–,” he rushes over, the plate clattering with the glass, and he reaches for the joint, ready to squish it into his pocket when– 

You laugh. “Relax, Dee, I know what a joint is. In fact, we are very well acquainted.”

You fold yourself into the couch, legs crossed, grinning at him as you bite into your sandwich. 

He swallows, unclenching slightly as he sits down next to you. He watches you eat for a moment, trying to think of something cool to say.

“Sounds like I’ve missed my calling as the fun uncle, getting you high for the first time and all that.” 

You snort and swallow your mouthful. “Yeah, by like two fucking years.” 

“Oh, what a fucking lifetime. You poor thing,” he says, pouting dramatically and you giggle again, bumping into his shoulder. It sends his sanity knocking around in his brain. 

You don’t notice, though, your eyes falling to the joint in the small ceramic bowl. The smile slides from your face. 

“Well, you might have missed my first joint, but I’d be more than happy to take this one as my next.”

His eyebrows practically bounce off his forehead. “You’re serious?” 

Your eyes slide away from the joint to his, something distractingly dark hiding there. “I mean, if the parties on your Instagram are anything to go by . . . And, well, when in Rome . . .”

You trail off, smirking, gesturing around you as if you had any idea the levels of debauchery that were obtained in this very room. Come to think of it, he halfway considers picking you up off the couch and putting a towel down underneath your perfect ass. 

This is how it went sometimes, with the slower hook ups. No wet clothes, or grilled cheese, or bringing up family trauma — but initial touches, curling smiles, and then drugs. Always drugs. As if there needed to be another hand that tore off the cap of the pressurized, fizzy soda bottle. He’d play music then, for them, to show off his vinyl collection and have a plausible reason to rub his dick between their ass cheeks while dancing slowly to something croon-y from the seventies. 

Not that any of that would be happening with you. 

He wasn’t a complete monster after all. 

With a playful grin that he had mastered over many press junkets, he snatches up the joint and lighter, and presents both to you in the flat of his hand. 

“First hit goes to you, since you were so kind to make dinner for an old fuck like me.” 

You snort and put your plate onto the table, wiping your hands free of crumbs on your black shirt. 

“Such a gentleman.” 

With deft and practiced hands, you take the joint between your index finger and your thumb, and sparking the lighter, brought the flame to your lips. 

Just for one second, one goddamn second, he swears he saw The Look reflected in your eyes. He glances away, his cock fluttering awake like goddamn Lassy hearing the calls of another well-begotten child. He picks up his own plate.

“Hardly. It was all a ploy to get you to admit you follow me on Instagram.”

You burst out coughing, smoke chugging from your nose and mouth. “Dieter!”

He cackles, his tongue between his teeth, as you shove him away from you — do not think about her fingers clenched around your bicep —  try to sit up and inhale again. You hang your head and groan. 

“Fuck, I can’t believe I said that.” 

“Yeah, and for that, I get two puffs,” he says out of the corner of his mouth, the rest of it full of the most perfectly cooked grilled cheese sandwich he’d ever had. He finishes chewing and swallows. “Hand it over, princess.” 

You hand over the lighter and the joint, the paper slightly greasy from your fingers, leaning back dramatically into one of the many plushy cup holder seats spread out along the very long couch. 

He chuckles devilishly again, far too satisfied, as he lights up and leans back into the cushions. 

“And, as gesture of goodwill, I’ll admit that’s a good fucking grilled cheese.” 

Your eyes snap open and a wide grin splits your face. “Hell yes! Mayonnaise on both sides, butter on the side with cheese. Best family recipe. Mwah!”

“Fuck, even I know that’s too much cholesterol for me,” he grunts and digs into the cushions, feeling around for the remote. 

“Well, that’s not enough cholesterol for me,” you wink as you take the joint from the hand on his thigh, eyes daring you to do something about it. Nowhere near high enough to take the bait, he just narrows his eyes at you as he clicks the button and the entertainment system comes to life with a primordial hum. 

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, eyes wide, as the speakers roar and the lights dim further and the screen glows, “it’s like I’m in a fucking movie theater . . . in space.”

“It’s great, right?” Dieter moans like a loving father over his first child. This thing is his pride and joy, the only thing he could stomach in this goddamn house.

The DVD buffer for Raising Arizona begins and you squeal quietly, sliding onto your back, the joint dangling between your lips. 

“No fucking way, I love this movie.” 

Dieter stilled. “Really? You do?” 

The few times he felt nostalgic for his old life — his old, old life when he was still a kid from nowhere, a nobody, you couldn’t pick him out of a line up of his sweaty, grubby cousins when they were all cobbled together like crooked teeth in front of Abuela Josefina’s television that still had knobs and bunny ears to watch movie after movie of Nicholas Cage reruns. Even with knees in his back, elbows in his ears, Dieter could quote every single line, his heart swelling.

That’s gonna be me some day. 

“This movie is from, like, another century,” he mutters as he watches you settle in, something sickening like adoration clawing up in his chest. 

“Yeah and it’s great,” you say eagerly, ignoring the way he plucks the joint out of your fingers. “Put it on!” 

He resolutely ignores the pinch in his low stomach at your almost whine and presseS the play button with a little more force than necessary. Then, balancing the joint on the ceramic bowl, he sticks his fingers into his robe, pulls out his glasses, and puts them on without a second thought – just as he always did when watching movies. 

It is only when he realizes he doesn’t hear you breathing that he realizes what he has done. Slowly he pulls the square glasses off his face and looks at them, feeling as disgusted as the day his doctor put them in his hands. 

Near-sighted. Very common. Happens when people as they age.

“Got ‘em–,” his throat closes again, “got ‘em a few years ago. Only have to wear ‘em to see things up close and, uh . . . Well, I think they make me look old as shit.” 

He can’t quite look at you, unsure what he’ll see on your face and knowing for sure that he couldn’t stand it if it wasn’t the way you look at him before. If you just would tease him about it, then —

“No,” you say, your voice very soft and small. His heart nearly punches out his throat, his neck nearly snapping in half as his head whips up to look at you. You sit up on your elbows, the darkness of the room cushioning your soft cheeks and muting the glaze in your eyes as you watch him over the bend of your knees. 

“Nah,” you say, your nose scrunching, the weight of the high clearly settling into your skin, “they make you look . . . Uh, they’re cute.” 

Dieter sucks in the side of his cheek, nodding slowly and sliding the glasses back over his nose. Cute, he could work with that. 

“Jeez, would you start the movie already?” You poke his side with your toe. He doesn’t need to look at you to hear the faint blush in your voice. 

He turns the volume up and crosses his arms, smiling faintly. You’re warm next to him, he thinks vaguely, his own high finally starting to sink into his bones. 

Cute. Definitely not a word he’s going to obsess over. 

The movie goes on. 

Nicholas Cage is Nicholas Cage with a mullet.

Your laugh is the clattering of bells in his ears and he can’t remember the last time he laughed so hard his sides hurt. 

He’s coming up from bent over, knees almost to his chest, laughter nearly popping his ribs, when he realizes your feet are in his lap. The arches of your soles, the delicate bones of your ankles, the long smooth planes that run up to your gorgeous calves— 

They are there, in his lap, and you don’t seem to mind. Head turned towards the screen, face bright from laughing, your arm arched back over your head, pressing your chest up —  it’s like you meant for them to be there. 

It’s just one hand, right? Two at the most. Just putting his hands down where he had them a moment ago. Up and — down. 

You don't flinch. His palm is on the arched top of your foot, the other just above your other ankle. 

You do smile, but that might have been because of Nicholas Cage raging again. 

And then, during another bout of giggles, he clutches your shin bone, wraps his fingers around your heel, and laughs and laughs and laughs. 

You wipe the tears away from your eyes, the end credits rolling.

“Fuck, that’s a such a good movie.” 

He swallows, swiping quickly under his glasses before taking them off and chucking them onto the table in front. 

“You’re fucking right it is,” he says hoarsely, leaning forward and plucking up the last of the joint. He inhales, letting the smoke ease stifle the tears in the corner of his eyes, gulping down a breath before offering it to you.

You take it, distracted, eyes on the credits, the light from the screen glowing on your cheeks. 

He presses up under your ankle with his middle finger. “What? You knew what was gonna happen, you’d said you’d seen it before.”  

You nodded, still not looking at him. 

He goes for a more direct approach. He pinches your calf, and you scowl, the light back in your eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, a bit sharply. He’s not nearly done having fun with you, not nearly. You take another sip of smoke before setting the joint back on the table. 

You huff, settling onto your back, pinching at your nails. 

“Just . . . Nothing, it’s stupid.”

Dieter hums. He knows when to let him come to you. He taps the arch of your foot.

“How are you feeling?” His gaze nudges the joint on the table. 

You grin. “Really good. Tingly. Warm. Like everything else is a million miles away.” 

Just the two of us. 

“Enough to tell ol’ Uncle Dee what’s on your mind?”

You roll your eyes and sit up a bit, yanking a pillow behind you. 

“Just thinkin’ about the old days, I guess.” You glance up at him from under your eyes. “Not in a bad way. At all. I just . . .”

“What?” If you gave him hell for the last eleven years, then fuck it, he deserved it. He pulls at your ankle. “What?” 

With a big sigh, you lean back, something finally breaking and, with it, comes a great big smile. 

“Okay, remember when you’d put on those plays with the rest of us kids during those super lame family reunions o-o-or Christmas? Marissa would have everything written out, all the cousins cast and you’d beg her to let you play – fucking – Bear Number 5 or something ridiculous – and she’d fight you on it but she’d relent, always putting on a show of her own – as if a ten year old could be put out like that.” You giggled, biting on your thumb, a sparkling in your eyes that made something in his chest burn. 

Yes, he remembers the incredibly stupid fuzzy ears and the bear claw mittens. The fake roaring. TMZ would have a fucking stroke if those pictures of him, baby-faced, were to ever surface online. He smiles at you and basks in the warmth of those memories, his high making them brighter. 

“I think it would have crushed her little heart if you didn’t ask,” you said, heavy-lidded eyes on you again. “I know it broke her when you stopped showing up at all.” 

His heart actually pinches at that. He knows you’re not scolding him but fuck, maybe he’d feel better if you did. What a fucking idiot he was, for leaving all of that for empty mansions and meals from UberEats and all this fucking gunked up shit in his veins that made him feel older and older every year. Like he was chasing something that was never real in the first place. 

“Look, honey,” the pet name is out of his mouth before he can stop it. He’s twisting towards you, both hands under your calves now. “I should have called. Should have made sure that at least you knew where to find me, even if things between your dad and I were fucked.”

“Oh, God, Dee, no. I don’t blame you. I don’t even blame my dad, sometimes. You just were very different people. He’s fine living his life in the same small ass town in the middle of nowhere. But you weren’t. And, fuck . . . I’m not either.”

He frowns. You bite your lip and continue.

“You know, I thought about following you out to Hollywood. Because of those plays. I had the best fucking time doing them and Hollywood didn’t seem so scary . . . with Uncle Dee out here. But, uh, I dunno. I grew up, I guess. Figured I was better at telling stories than performing them. I just knew I didn’t want to end up like my dad. Dying where I lived. Unremembered.” 

His gut doubles in on itself. Please don’t say you gave up your dreams because I stopped calling. 

“Do you still think about acting?” He asks quietly, trying to fight the faint ringing in his ears. 

“Oh God, no,” you wave your hands, dusting away his near-panic that he’d somehow ruined your life. “I really do prefer writing stories, even if they exist only within the pages of a book. Or a really bad pamphlet, once or twice. I tried to continue the plays at home for a few years, after you left and Marissa took up cheerleading and thought she was too old to play with her little cousins anymore. But it just wasn’t the same without her. Or you.” 

He realizes all too late that he can feel your pulse under your ankle. Strong. Pounding. Pounding, hard. Like you’re nervous. So struck by the notion that he can feel something so personal of yours, the smoke trapped in his brain lifts only slightly when he catches your eyes looking somewhere you absolutely should not be. 

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck, he knows that look. You blink at him, then your gaze slowly slides down, down to his crotch, as smoothly you can beneath the weight of the smoke in your brain and he battles between the desire to throw your legs off him or pull you underneath him.

It’s The Look. 

Men, women, it didn’t matter. The look was the same.

When the possibility of sex first enters their mind, when that first bloom of lust rushes down their spine and the memory of the physical exertion of fucking – all the panting and the heavy breathing, aching muscles and sweat – comes back, as real as a song stuck in your head. When that spark of imagination threatens to sway from the hypothetical to the actual, it’s a look he knows so fucking well, he might as well be able to carve it from clay, blind-folded. 

And you’re giving it to him, right now. 

You haven’t really thought about seducing him yet, no, that part hasn’t crossed your mind yet. But you definitely are imagining what his cock would feel like inside you, and you and your imagination and your wide-eyed gaze at his lap all whole-heartedly agreed: that would be a great fucking thing. 

You, on your elbows, your heel dangerously close to his half-hard cock, the glaze in your eyes having something to do with what you were so shamelessly picturing, and your short breath having everything to do with what you were so shamelessly picturing.

He was quite sure you were completely unaware of the expression your face was making. Eyes hooded, mouth parted, breath short. Masking your emotions and filthy thoughts is a skill set mastered later in life and perhaps the last time you looked at someone like that, they simply bent you over the nearest surface and railed you till your knees buckled. 

What a fucking excellent idea, his libido trilled. Now get off the couch and do something about it. I’m foaming at the fucking mouth here, man. 

Dieter silences his inner horny monster, unintentionally squeezing his hand, the one that happens to be wrapped around your calf. 

The movement seems to break you out of your dizzying spiral and you blink up at him.

He swallows. With a half smirk on the edge of your lips that you try to not let him see, you take your feet out of his lap, then reach forward, your palm alarmingly high on his thigh as you take the joint from his fingers. Your eyes flash like warning signs.

DANGER. DANGER, WILL ROBINSON. DANGER.

“So, you gonna give me a tour of this place or what?”

End of Part 1 | Next

[cheerleaderman]

[SR] Yuya Florence, Astrid Primrose and Flori Orielle- Halloween town

Fan event by- @theolivetree123

Yuya: “ This place gives off a spooky vibe kinda like Ramshackle”

Astrid: I didn’t know Briar Valley had a town like this

Flori: Halloween town, Their Mayor seems very excited that we all came here

Few lines under cut - Mention of Yukki, Silas and Constance

Yuya

The Boogie Man’s Palace is pretty lavish but I’ll just stay around the arcade, I’m not taking any gambles

Some of The spirits at the Graveyard were confused why another spirit was given them gifts…My it’s because if not from this world

Look at this Doll! We have similar outfits, too creepy? Of course that’s why I bought them

The Mayor been telling me all kinds of scary stories like the one of the Pumpkin King! We had to take a pause since he had to attend to something..he was in the middle of a good story

Yukki got chosen for the corpse bride, When we were at La Miel Boutique They were getting bombarded with different outfits to pick, I managed to help them things she liked but the final result is still a surprise.

Astrid

I was drawing in the town square and Miss.Camila came up behind me complimenting my work so I gave her one , She told me other places that she thinks I would have fun drawing as well

I gave the fountain an offer but I wasn’t sure if anything would happen…is it even possible for me to have good luck just wishful thinking

I saw some chocolate desserts at a nearby bakery and bought some for Silas, he’s eating them so I think I made the right selection.

The people at the Boutique said that the Romantic Gothic style fits me the most…

Flori

Constance been running away from her ex faster than I run from marriage offering.

When at the graveyard I swear I someone who looks like my father…maybe it’s because I wish I could’ve gotten a chance to know him more..

I bought this pumpkin lantern, it glows such a lovely color also I think it adds on to outfit.

Miss.Camila reminds me of my friend Evenly they even have similar styles.

I got some recommendations from the Mayor of novels and story books in Halloween Town, I absent reading them for the past hour

[simslegacy5083]

Not So Berry (Straud Descendants) Gen 9

Today's (9/5/2024) Episode: Dinner and Dancing

At the reception Luigi kept his drone recording as everyone gathered to enjoy the seafood feast he’d helped prepare earlier that afternoon.

Bonnie, who was flying solo as usual, was seated across from Noemi. Now that she understood the bride’s own social struggles, she was willing to admit “Leroy’s “demanding job” isn’t really the reason he never comes to these things. He’s socially awkward, and crowds make him anxious.” 

“I totally get it.” Noemi sympathized, “I’ve come to accept this zoo…” she waved to indicate the crowded table “as “part of the package” with Lu’s close knit family, but its awesome you’re willing to let Leroy enjoy his solitude.” She leaned in closer. “I’m a little jealous, I wish I was home right now too.”

Lu himself was happily telling Grandpa Don “PrimSim gave us a bonus for our little Harvestfest collab, no doubt due to your expert lead…”

 Don held up a hand to stop Luigi from making the offer he knew was coming “That’s great! You can consider it an extra wedding present.”

In lieu of dessert champagne was poured and both sims of honor rose to give a toast.

Amaya went first “At the last wedding Luigi and I attended I told him I never wanted to see him again. Then I stumbled into friendship with his pretty momma as we were both learning to be better mommas to our incoming bundles of joy. Ain’t life strange? You did good hot stuff – but if you let my girl down you best believe I’ll be the one kicking your butt!”

Denton followed up with “Luigi and I got off to a bit of a rough start…” “To be fair,” Luigi hollered back to the crowds delight, “we WERE toddlers…”

“… but we grew up to have a lot in common.” his cousin continued with a smile. “Noemi, much as we both love him, it’s clear that he doesn’t quite deserve you. We’re all so very glad you eventually agreed to marry him anyway!” Luigi nodded happily, leaning over to give his wife a quick kiss.

Bellies full and hearts light everyone made their way to the dance floor after dinner.

For their first dance the newlyweds had picked an upbeat funky tune. The pair shimmied onto the floor and proceeded to boogie down, performing an adorable duet to the quirky retro love song they both felt perfectly captured the essence of their story and their love for one another.

🎶For so long, You and me been findin' each other for so long… I want you layin' in the love I have to bring, I'd do anything to be your everything🎶

When their song finished the pair invited everyone to join them and “get this dance party started!”.

Luigi of course was in his element, but Noemi surprised herself by how much fun she was having.

Surrounded by the large crowd of family and friends she’d come to know so well, on one of the happiest days of her life, she felt nothing but joy as she swayed in time to the music.

All good things must come to an end, and as Luigi and Noemi’s party ended, he was approached by Professor Silva.

“Care to autograph this for me? I’d love to hang it on the “wall of fame” in my office”. His old advisor handed over a headshot from Luigi’s days as co-captain of Foxbury’s E-Sports team. As Luigi worked, he added “I was sorry to hear about your Carpel Tunnel, but glad you’re taking it seriously.”

Luigi, remembering that his coach’s own stress injury had kept him from going pro, nodded. “Thanks. It hasn’t been easy, but it’s given me a chance to put those leadership skills you taught me to good use.” He handed back the picture and promised to check up on the professor’s current team soon.

Once their guests had all departed Luigi snuggled Noemi close “So, wife of mine… man I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of saying that… I know that both of us are “seldom sleepy” these days. You up to have a little more fun before bed?”

“Absolutely” she replied “After all, it’s a rare treat not to have anyone but ourselves to worry about. Carpe Diem!”

Luigi laughed “well OK then, let’s go!”

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[kur0m1sblog]

Hello!

If possible, could you write headcannons for Pitch x a non-binary human reader with ptsd that quickly calms down when he’s around?

Maybe he didn’t understand HOW his presence could possibly do anything to comfort them, and they finally admit that they would pretend he was guarding them as a kid for comfort? (As a kid, I basically soothed my fears by telling myself that the thing I feared wouldn’t hurt me, so “the boogie man is protecting me” was a common thought process I had as a kid XD)

Pitch Black With A Non-Binary Human S/O That Had PTSD And Quickly Calms Down When Around Him.

Summary: Pitch Black With A Non-Binary Human S/O That Had PTSD And Quickly Calms Down When Around Him.

Characters: Pitch Black

Warnings: Minor Cussing, Affectionate Touches, Romantic Relationship Implied

Genre: Fluff, Romance

Reader: Non-Binary! Reader

REQUEST ARE OPEN!

❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦

The first time you met him was obviously when you were having a nightmare, you abruptly woke up, only to be faced by Pitch

You had calmed down quickly though and stared at him, after he left quickly, you went back to sleep

In the morning you didn’t know if it actually happened, so you went on with your day, you’re day turning into a week

After a week, you’d seen him again

This time you called out to him, trying to talk to him

He still ignored you and ran away

One day you caught him, he had finally talked to you but was quiet, very quiet

He’d plan on taking you away, and kidnapping you

Once he did you didn’t mind, you felt comforted by him

In a weird way though, with him always being around you, he gave you a presence of feeling safe

He slowly started to notice when you were fidgeting and stopped when you immediately saw him

Little things like that, y’know

He suddenly asked you one day about it and you answered correctly, “Well as a kid you would scare me, so as long as I told myself as a child that you weren’t able to hurt me, I pretended you were there to comfort me, and protect me…”

He found it cute? I guess, after he slowly would get to know you and develop feelings for you

When he finally tried putting his feelings into simple words, you simply just gave him a peck on the cheek and walked away

After that day and you two getting together, he came to find out that you had PTSD

When you told him your story and how much it traumatized you, he felt bad for you, and the fact you had to grow through that

After your story, he’d give you a long and gentle hug, you both stayed like that for a couple of minutes

You were happy that he had actually listened to you

After hearing the things that were involved in your trauma, he made sure for you to stay away from them

He’d want you to seek help, and to slowly get over the story

He just wants to see you’re improvement and growth from there on out with you

❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦ ❦

Notes: Thank you so much for requesting this! I hope you enjoyed reading it, and have a great morning/afternoon/night!

[thetownwecallhome]

TNBC Shower Thought-cloud #5: Sally the Ragdoll

((OOC:

So the sequel book to Nightmare Before Christmas All Hail the Pumpkin Queen, came out this last year and I just gotta make my stance clear now: if you like that book, cool.

I don't. Like, I really don't. To make a long story short, Shea Anshaw's take on Jack and Sally finally getting married ft the revelations that

Sally wasn't actually made by Dr. Finkelstein

Sally is a princess from another world

Sally wax poetic abt awesome girl-boss royalty ((like, human royalty, the kind that commits genocide and apartheid)) being legit and cool and how you shouldn't question it

This newest girl-bossification of Sally is positing the same question the TNBC-critical sphere has been asking for years: is Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas dependent and therefore can't be a good feminist character?

The hyperbole take on her being " her [Sally's] entire purpose is being supportive of Jack, who isn't supportive of her and who doesn't deserve her as a girlfriend "

This isn't a fringe opinion nor is it held only by people I dislike. Lindsay Ellis jokingly told Sally to "get her bachelor's degree" in one of her vids which I am very obviously not butthurt at all by as you can tell, while Hasani Walker made a webcomic where that functionally happens; Sally and Jack break up to work things out individually before they really try it out as a couple.

Just so we're clear, my disagreeing with these two and other creators is NOT meant to be war on people who don't ship SallyxJack, nor is it a roast on people who are critical of Sally/TNBC as a principle.

BUT, when it comes to Sally ((in the film, not the games or spin offs, the film)) being a doormat of a woman who's too good for her man...I disagree.

---First thing's first, My take on Sally is highly influenced by The Nightmare Before Christmas : The Film, the Art, and the Vision which my sister bought years ago. In that book, Carolyn Thompson said this -

While TNBC is the story of the time Jack did a thing and ruined it for everyone, it's Sally who embodies everything the filmmakers want the audience to feel about Jack.

Set up and seen before Jack is even on screen, Sally is a part of the world of Halloween, but also an outsider in it. This gives her the position to see Jack the way the audience does; Just like Sally, we are awed and enamored with Jack when he first pops up, then saddened and sympathetic for him once we realize his plight. Though she's absent from Jack's finding of Christmas Town, she IS there for the town meeting when we the audience (and her) are gushing over his gushing over Christmas. We sense along with Sally Jack's frustration with the town citizens, are saddened to see him pander to them, and can tell he’s not well when committing to his Xmas experiments. Most important of all, Sally recognizes Jack’s Xmas takeover as wrong and wants to stop it, even if she love him. Even without hearing him sing “I bet I could IMPROVE IT TOO” like we do, Sally knows Jack is wrong. Regardless of her care for Jack, visibly, she’s the only one who sees what’s happening with Santa is wrong. Sally tracks him down in order to help Jack, but she’s none the less Santa’s real ally. From everything we know about her, Sally, like the rest of Halloween Town, is not a mean monster and doesn’t like to spread misery ala Oogie Boogie, and she’s not too hopped up on enthusiasm to forget when she’s hurting people like Jack and the town very much are. Sally is the og critical stan. now join me for a tanget-

Interestingly, any other holiday film ((Year without a Santa Claus, Hocus Pocus, Hop)) would make the voice-of-reason audience-surrogate character a peppy human child who's interacting w the holiday characters, but in TNBC, the writers made the surrogate someone who's also a holiday character- Sally. Sally is kind of to TNBC what Nick Calloway is to The Great Gatsby. Yeah, that's a stretch-Nick is of course the narrator and author-stand in for his story where Sally isn't (although, a TNBC narrated by Sally sounds dope as hell, ngl), tho more importantly, while Nick learns along with the reader how cruel and fruitless the American dream Jay believed in actually was,

---Sally is a character who doesn’t have to learn anything. tanget- again

A lot of people have this opinion on Disney heroines like Belle or Ariel, that good characters, female or otherwise, don't necessarily have to learn anything. I could take or leave Belle and Ariel in as far as if they should learn a lesson in their movies. But in my eyes, that character will always be Sally. Sally is a character you wanna aspire to be like and who doesn’t need to learn the lesson of the story. And yes, Sally is also in-love with Jack. You can be extra cynicalsassy and use this to say "TNBC was made to make you feel like you could make out w Jack Skellington" (( I'd like to point out that Nick is all but canonically in love with Jay in GG)) but that's not the point. More importantly...how/why is that a bad thing that Sally is in love? TNBC doesn’t pass any bectal tests. If women always supporting other women is the only mark of feminism ever then I guess, but I mean, what’s wrong if a woman’s inspo and motivation is a man? What’s especially wrong if she’s self aware and tries to battle that man’s influence within the story. How is that "putting up with" or "enabling/excusing/thinking only of Jack". Sally...really doesn't do that...

---Sally has wants, but within the narrative of Nightmare she's just a bit taken back by needs. At the start of the movie what Sally wants, and the reason she says "I know how you feel" to Jack, is to be active.

“I don’t want to BE patient”

“I’m restless, I can’t help it!”

Sally wants to be anything but Finkelstein's cute assistant because SHE knows she's more than that. She wants to be a part of Halloween Town. What's keeping her back is her reluctance to be free, which she finally throws to the wind after seeing Jack's tower from afar, which is why she's so happy throwing herself out the window - that's her 'let it go' moment of actually taking action in her life. The man she loves is evidently doing it -why shouldn't she? Her actual 'need' is to escape from Dr. Finkelste and it’s really not an obstacle, if we're being honest. The balls are all in her court; Fink's at most an irritation to her. She literally came back to his lab just to be sewn up and smile in his face about poisoning him. She can, and does, so often easily escape because she’s NOT perturbed by him. Sally is, at this point in the film, totally in control of her wants and her needs. But then- the plot kicks in and she has her vision. It's then that her real need in the story, the need she recognizes, outweighs her wants, that need being: "omg I gotta stop this undead himbo from hurting himself and other people!" Sally’s #1 goal in the film is NOT to be Jack's gf, it’s just to save him from himself. Jack inspires her, makes her feel good, but she doesn’t let that stop her from seeing things for how they are ABOUT him. Her words in "Sally Song" never read to me as "notice me senpai I wish I was good ENOUGH" self-loathing. If anything her succumbing to “it’s never to become '' about Jack isn’t some “I love you even though you’ll NEVER luff MEEEEE” devotion, but forlorn frustration. “I think it’s not to be '' = Jack’s never gonna change”. It's Sally's lament about how she doesn't believe Jack will ever want her that way because she just knows what kind of person he is*. But that's not the only thing she sings about in this song. Sally has been apart from the crowd and wants to be a part of it, but any joy she’d have in her new independence is kinda sucked up by knowing Jack is gonna get him and possibly the rest of the town killed. She even wonders in her song if she wants to or ever can be really a part of Halloween Town when she clearly can’t do the hype-Jack-up song and dance like the rest of them. Jack evidently treats her like an equal part of the team, but 1) for Jack that's just another citizen he thinks doesn't understand him, and 2) it's participation in a project she knows she doesn't want to be a part of. Real monkey's paw there, Sally!

If there is anything close enough to a lesson for Sally in the film, arguably, it’d be not to underestimate Jack as unable to change. She’s not only validated by the end of the film, she gets to see Jack really bounce back and be the person she loved at the start- and then is taken aback that he not only does this but finally recognizes her affections, her efforts, and her as a person. final tangent:

((I think the make-or-break-you point with Nightmare is a question of whether or not you think Jack learned his lesson. While I think the filmmakers could have really handled that better, especially in “Poor Jack”, I think what they were going for in their own crunch of an ending is Jack falling in love with Sally is his redemption- he finally came around to seeing her and her way. The Film, the Art, and the Vision makes a point of how Sally is far more than Jack’s romantic interest. ))

Being Mr. Cynical again, you could handwave this as just a throw-in from the writers; "actually she IS REALLY important lookit all the things she do!" but I believe in that statement because they believe in that.

--Sally's MO is centered around Jack. Narratively, yes, she exists in compandum to him. But, within the actual story of the film, Jack isn't her soul purpose in life. The fact that she tries to stop him is proof enough of that. 

The argument that Sally is too good and better than the relationship she's in falls apart because Jack and Sally aren't IN a relationship in the film. They hook up at the end -that's not the same as them being together or a couple. The logic of this take is, again, confusing Sally's wants with her needs, and also presuming Jack always loved her and just didn't realize until the end of the story, which is NOT the text of the actual film, that's fan speculation. (( I prefer Jack falling in love with Sally on the spot out of nowhere. It's such a Jack way of doing things...)) I think what convinces people that Sally is “dependent” on Jack or only ever his side-kick is how expanded media treats her as character, as well as her relationship w Jack. In the 2000s, all that mattered for making spin off material of kid’s franchises is keeping the cast recognizable and that means undoing their development if the point of the story is that they change. It happened in every Land Before Time sequel where Cera and Littlefoot have to be the respective team-racist and team-leader, always, ever, all the time; it happened in the Finding Nemo comics set after the movie where writers still made Marlin overprotective of Nemo; it happened to Jack in Kingdom Hearts and Oogie’s Revenge. The writers may want to write an actual story, but it’s easier to just write what the characters are like in the original. SO, Jack HAS to be an oblivious, selfish manchild and can never learn and is also really despondent and prone to abandoning ppl he supposedly cares about. This sucks enough for Jack's character, but I think Sally suffered even worse than him. At that time, media and merch did treat Sally like she was JUST Jack’s love interest. Literally in Oogie’s Revenge's game pamphlet the only disc for her is “she’s sewn her way into Jack’s heart”, like she’s just his side piece and not the woman he ended his movie with who was also a really important character you followed within that movie. We can only repeat what we know from the film so oop!-Jewel’s MIA and Sally has to live with her sexist ex/boss who doesn't even like her.

---While we're here, I'm 100% sure Sally and Dr. Fink’s relationship is not familial. Some fictional mad scientists do love their creations like they were their children (see also: Mad Monster Party, 9, Frankenweenie for animated examples). Not Dr. Fink. While not exactly predatory ((because it's a fricken kids film, ew)) Dr Finkelstein is a sexist old man. He's problematic. Fink made Sally to be his sexy secretary. He's mad because her life doesn’t revolve around him the way he thinks a woman who works for him life should. In the end, he just decided to go and make a copy of himself since he knows now what he wants is to be told how awesome he is. I really don’t vibe some fic authors (and Shea Anshaw's) insistence that they be anything like ‘family’, hence why I made fun of it on this blog.

For all I disagree with between our headcanons, I much prefer Hasani Walker's take on Sally to Long Live the Pumpkin Queen. Hasani went in w good vibes; he made decent takes and criticisms; he made some good art; he did a sweet crossover between stop-motion properties, and MOST importantly, Hasani gave Sally a hat and a cool girl vest. Did Shea Anshaw do that? No!

It feels very at home and on-brand for TNBC that Sally was made from whole cloth as a ragdoll, but is still her own autonomous person by the rest of town and even the leader eventually. Reminds me a lot of the Oz books where the Scarecrow, Jack Pumpkinhead, and Gump are all just possessions but who are seen as people by the heroes, and even made official citizens by the heroes, which they are. What's more Halloweeny than a living-ragdoll-frankenstein woman being co-ruler of everything spoopy, or even just a citizen loved and respected as much as the rest of the town for her own attributes? If that's what you want, and it's what Hasani actually did for her, than give her that. Outside of her purpose within the story that I already mentioned earlier... what about Sally is sexist? So TNBC doesn't pass the bechdel test and Sally's main inspo happens to be her man. Not her soul purpose like in mother!, just her muse, her kin, her dearest friend. Secret of NIMH and Kubo and the Two Strings have female characters whose motives are their men and those characters don't even have first names. I kinda really hate the implication that a woman can't have a male character as a motive ever or else. As a feminist, I agree, women characters should be individuals and not props for the men. The problem to me isn't so much the insistence that a woman be there for support, it's writers crafting a story where certain characters fill more of a role or purpose in cunjunction to another, and when the writer happens to make said character a woman.

Also, since the whole point of LLTPQ was to give Sally her own agency and importance...how is it fair that she HAVE to be a royalty HERSELF in order to be her own person?

Is it because she was made to be a sexy nurse and that's somehow wrong or shameful even though the whole point is it's not her fault? Is it that people would accuse her of “leeching off" Jack just for being in a relationship with him? You know? The thing bad, sexist people do to women and sax workers irl if they have famous boos when they themselves aren't famous? If the only people complaining are those who think Sally is JUST Jack’s sidepiece, why validate those people? Wanting her to have agency within the movie and so giving her different choices as opposed to just INSTANTLY marrying Jack? That's a take I can vibe with because that is true to the nature of what Sally is, which is not just the Mad Scientist's beautiful assistant. By making Sally a "princess all along '', you imply that her even possibly starting from the bottom makes her beneath Jack and she has to rise to be his equal. Sally never had to do this in the original movie. Sally really was the smartest, most in tune person in town.

I talk a big game, of course, but even as my fav character I know I've done Sally wrong too. The "Mothball" comic is one of my biggest regrets from this blog. It's SO badly worded and I think it's a comic that REALLY needed a second opinion. Sally did nothing wrong in that comic, but both it and Jack made her feel like they were both in the wrong. Trying to give Jack and Sally a conflict as a couple was hard and I ended up rehashing some really harmful language, which I didn't want to do for either Sally or Jack. Don't like that comic. My first choice of retype, redraft.

final thoughts?

What people (me, Lindsay, Hasani, Shea, errybody) actually want of Sally is to have her own agency and 'character' apart from Jack. While narratively, yes, Sally functions as being there to endear Jack to the audience, my point is as a character within the narrative-Sally does have her own autonomy apart from him. She is massively independent of him. I know because that's who she is throughout the entire movie. I think it's because we all see she clearly does have her own interests/agency/character beyond that that we're all anxious to get more of that personally from her...which Disney won't do because they're Disney and certain characters can't come as their own especially when they fufilled another character's purpose in the og film.

Anna can't really do anything that isn't tied to Elsa because it's Elsa who's the reason any of Frozen happens at all.

Belle is always only the cheerleader of the Beast because his character arc is what drives the story.

Sally has to always be in toe of Jack because TNBC is Jack's story and she loves Jack.

But, we love Sally.

Give Sally her own limelight. Give her a limelight that isn't compltely making her a different character or demanding she be the same character as Jack.

Let Sally say #$%&

))

[outofangband]

Ohhh your ask is open! I would love to hear your thoughts on how Maedhros is remembered through mortal memories. He worked with Men and Dwarves, and delt with Orcs and the like. He was an Important Figure and I wonder how you think mortals would remember him? Like, maybe around the 3rd Age. Do people even still talk about him? Is he a boogy man? A folktale warning about War and Grief?

Maedhros has three faces. Sometimes they overlap and intertwine and fracture.

The Warrior

Some of his deeds in battle are still spoken of though the details are scarce, ever changing, and likely inaccurate. He is conjured by those who speak of driving the forces of evil singlehandedly back, even if just for a moment and it is just for a moment.

Rarely are comparisons made to Maedhros to individual figures but rather to intentions and events. They are not always wholly complimentary but when Maedhros is invoked as the warrior, they are nonetheless reverent. And sad.

The Thrall/The Survivor

The horrors of the Iron Prisons are not widely discussed after the sinking of Beleriand. The brands that mark the skin of survivors are no longer recognized so urgently. And few names of those trapped there survive.

But the rescue of Maedhros is a story that has been recorded and told. How Fingon the Valiant called out and how Maedhros amid his torment answered back. How Manwë himself was said to answer the prayers of Fingon and how a wish for a merciful death became the first successful recovery of anything from Angband.

The details of his torments are rarely if ever elaborated upon. It is in the unknown, and thus the unspeakable, where the horror lies. But it is remembered that Maedhros eldest of Fëanor was once in the clutches of the First Dark Lord, and that he escaped with the aid of Fingon.

Maedhros as One Who Had Come Returned From The Dead (in varying degrees of completeness) is one aspect of the tales that continues to be told, in fear and awe.

He becomes a face of those who have escaped the Shadow, alive perhaps but never unscathed and never unchanged.

The Kinslayer

Most who speak of the Fëanorians speak first of the Oath and the Kinslayings. They do not like to tell these stories, they are warnings, or occasionally comparisons. The Fëanorians themselves are rarely given faces or names in these tales. They are an entity in themselves, a being with seven swords that dwindled in their number.

Some are surprised to learn that the Maedhros who organized the famed Union, an ultimately unsuccessful but generally admired feat, was the same figure who slaughtered innocents in Sirion and Menengroth. He is rarely discussed in his totality.

I hope this is ok, @youareunbearable ! I absolutely love your Maedhros thoughts and writing, it’s some of my favorite.

[itzmushusworld]

Skinwalkers

Everyone has heard of a myth or legend growing up that has been passed down for generations. From the boogie man to sirens. Normally these Myths are created to make a kid scared to be out late at night or to make them take percussions when going outside. Today i’m gonna touch base and a very well known myth, known as the mimicking and shape shifting spirit…Skinwalkers.

What are skinwalkers?

Skinwalkers are often known as a skinny and pale creature with glowing eyes that walk on all fours. They are known to mimic animals,baby cries or anything that will make you search for the sound you are hearing. They can also shapeshift into animals like deer, your dog or anything they please. In some places skinwalkers ain’t a skinny pale creature but they’re a witch or shaman who can transform into animals. In some places skinwalkers are evil entities who intent harm on people.

Where did they originate from?

Skinwalkers are apart of the Native American Navajo lore. The skinwalker lore likely began as a way to convey moral lessons and explain occurrences that were inexplicable at the time. It serves as a cautionary tale within the culture, warning against certain behaviors and the misuse of spiritual power.

Skinwalker Ranch

Skinwalker Ranch, also known as Sherman Ranch, is a property located in Utah that's infamous for reports of paranormal and UFO-related activities. It's named after the skinwalker of Native American legend and has become a hub for those interested in the supernatural.

How to know if you spotted one?

Most of the time when someone thinks an animal is a skinwalker is when they have glowing or human like eyes. Another way people think they seen a skinwalker is when a 4 legged animal walks on its two back legs like it’s natural to them.

How were they created?

Skinwalkers, in legend, were once healers or spiritual guides who have been corrupted by dark magic. They're said to have chosen to gain their powers by breaking a cultural taboo, which varies among the stories told.

What is associated with them?

Skinwalkers are often associated with malevolent acts, shape-shifting abilities, and certain animals like coyotes, wolves, bears, and birds of prey. They're also linked to various supernatural phenomena within their lore.

What to do if you ever encounter one

If someone believes they've encountered a skinwalker, folklore often suggests not to engage or lock eyes, as it's said they can absorb themselves into your body. It's also advised to keep the encounter to oneself, as speaking about it might attract their attention.

The world of Skinwalkers and their ability to be anything or sound like anything is a way to attract the human attention. When you hear an animal in pain or a baby crying you subconsciously want to go help them without thinking any danger is involved.

I enjoy deep diving into legends, myths, mysteries and just anything that has many different ways to look at it. If you have any suggestions for a post, let me know and i’ll make a post about it and it’s history!

-Someone who thinks 24/7

[livingfast04]

Hi!

I'm seriously obsessed with you monster au, it's seriously all I can think about these days! I'd love to know more about how different types of monsters are viewed by society, especially how shapeshifters are viewed and whether people even know if they still excist or if they are generally more seen as something like a story told to get children to behave.

I'd also just love more bits of lore and stuff you've came up with about this au, I seriously want to know it all!! Thank you♡

*foams at the mouth* Okay, okay, okay-

Monster's or well "Creatures" taking the themes I've stolen from Frankenstein- Most supernatural, at least half, full, born, or made. Tend to be very accepted, actually more so than Humans in several cases. Of course there are acceptations. Jason, and the basketball team as an example. And like most of the entire population of Hawkins' who aren't monsters- or monster adjacent. There's going to be Prejudice That's a given, it's not a perfect world. Now! Most Vampires are, generally born vampires. Some are turned, and some can be made via ritual- Born Vampires are more "accepted" they are less hostile. Opinions on them are very high, just because they tend to go into the medical field. Vampires and Werewolves are very accepted into higher positions in public service jobs. Born, not turned. Witches are incredibly common, because Humans can further their social setting by becoming "a super natural" but they are still very human. Learned Witches are Different than Born Witches. The Byers are Born Witches, and The Wheelers (besides Ted, because fuck him) are learned witches. Now, Learned witches carry a bit of a "I'm better than you because I have magic." Especially to humans even though they are humans themselves honestly

Shapeshifters have more issues because they faced a lot of issues along the lines of "Giving you rights means you can't really shift anymore, because we have to be able to tell what you are" but also because they faced a lot of issues that people killed them more because they saw them as less human and more Monster. Which at the time of the supernatural like laws being put into place, that was a huge issue. and Instead of fighting it shapeshifters can pass as humans pretty well. For the most part, they are considered to not be around anymore. In small towns, and further south. They are "boogie man" stories used to make children behave. "If you don't behave a Skin Eater is going to come steal your face in your sleep" kind of shit. Under Supernatural laws, they are protected. Their Territory, kills based on Bonds, and other supernatural pushing into their space. But they have no individual laws that other Creatures do, that protect them from humans, and other supernatural. Basically it's a huge melting pool over all, but discrimination and hate crimes are covered because they won't give themselves a voice. If you can't tell I've desperately wanted someone to talk to about this. <3 YOU ASKED FOR OTHER LORE, WHICH IS JUST- *Flaps hands* Shapeshifters are VERY tactile. In like early humans and early Supernatural times- they where referred to as "Skin Stealers" (Or Skin Eaters) Because the people they bond with that aren't blood related they tend to copycat their features! It's a comfort thing, they just like looking like their people. They also can easily become touch starved! Which, used to be called "Skin hunger" which is a weird fucking term but whatever. I think it's kind of cool. Which is where the classification or just term, Skin Eaters comes from. They didn't get to be classified as Shifters until much later, and then reclassified as Shapeshifters as Animal Shifters are also a thing. (Shifters in general face most of the same issues, because they are all grouped together) Animal Shifters are different from were-creatures too! Robin can't shift fully unless it's the full moon, she can half shift, teeth, ears, maybe a tail. But she's more human- A wolf shifter, can straight up just be a wolf whenever they want.

I have far too many thoughts.

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

—1D Monthly Fic Roundup—

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for January 2023! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ The Greenback Boogie by @lewiswilliamstyles (E, 28k, Harry/Louis)

Louis is a Name Partner at Brown Tomlinson, a prestigious law firm in NYC.

Harry is about to start a job as an Associate in said firm.

When they see each other on Harry's first day of work, it was not the first time they met.

The Suits inspired AU no one asked for.

＊ sweaty palms and racing hearts by fearsparks / @onlythebravest (G, 1k, Louis/Harry)

“I’m fine,” Louis whispered. “Just nervous.”

Harry made a laughing-like sound through his nose, clearly trying to keep the volume down. “My palms are dripping with sweat. I was panicking over you trying to hold my hand or something.” Harry wiped them on his jeans.

Louis pressed a hand over his mouth to stifle the giggles coming out of him. “I did consider it,” he told him.

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

(A short story of two shy, nervous and blushing boys on a date at the cinema.)

＊ just an (un)ordinary evening by fearsparks / @onlythebravest (E, 4k, Harry/Louis)

“You smell good,” Harry told him, inhaling his scent. “So good. Extra good since you’re being such a good omega to me and making food.”

This made Louis laugh, and he turned around to lean against the counter, facing Harry. “I’m only smelling good because I’m cooking for you?”

“Mhm,” Harry hummed affirmatively. “And since you’re not cooking right now,” he reached out to bop Louis’ nose, only to get his hand swatted away, “you don’t smell that good anymore.”

Louis pinched Harry’s side. “Rude.”

(Harry and Louis during an ordinary weekday evening, having a somewhat slow and relaxing night together.)

＊ Bless You! by @neondiamond (G, 2k, Louis/Harry)

Harry and Louis’ young daughter, Ava, really enjoys when Harry says ‘bless you’ after she sneezes.

＊ Baking Spirits Bright by cherrylarry / @beelou (G, 2k, Harry/Liam)

“Hello, and welcome to day 20 of our Advent Series! I’m Harry Styles and this lovely man on my right is Liam. Say hi, Liam,”

“Hi, Liam!” Liam waves at the camera with a grin.

Harry rolls his eyes with a fond smile. “Alright so today we’re making hot chocolate! Different recipes from all over the world. Mexico, Italy, France, and Brazil.”

＊My Other Half Was You by @lululawrence (NR, 35k, Louis/Harry)

Louis turned the corner to head to Niall and Lewis’ music shop, and slammed right into someone.

“Shit,” Louis gasped, gripping the person’s shoulders in an attempt to remain standing. “God, I’m so sorry!”

“No, I’m sorry,” the man said. “Uh, you steady?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry again.” Louis blinked a few times and then took a step back. It was only then that he finally glanced up to the man’s eyes. They were a clear, bright green, and curly brown hair fell onto his forehead.

“I should probably…” The man trailed off, motioning towards the antique shop behind Louis.

“Right, sorry,” Louis apologized again, stepping aside.

“It’s alright. Have a good day.”

“You too,” Louis replied as the man disappeared around the corner.

By the age of 30, Louis' entire life trajectory had changed from what he'd thought it would be. He moved back to the town he grew up in and did his best to pull himself and his life back together again.

Four years, seven months, and sixteen days after the day that changed everything, Louis turns a corner and literally runs into the man who just might change it all again.

＊ Warm Chilling by Larry_you_know / @larryyouknow (G, 7k, Louis/Harry)

Louis moves into a cosy cottage in the English countryside with his dog Clifford to look after his great-aunt's animals. His next door neighbour, Harry, is an eccentric young man who swims in the pond every morning, owns cats and chickens, grows his own vegetables and wears, according to Louis, grand-dad clothes. He's the opposite of Louis, who is a true city man and has tiny little troubles adjusting to life in the countryside. It's only a matter of time before Louis falls madly in love with his endearing neighbour.

＊ On the naughty list tonight by @lunarheslwt (E, 6k, Harry/Louis)

“I’m sorry!” Harry pleaded, distressed as he came closer, “I try, I really do, you know that”- And oh, Harry was unraveling into genuine anguish, and Louis had to change track quickly because that wasn’t his intention- “So greedy, baby. And do you know what happens to greedy boys?” Harry stopped his babbling, peering at Louis with a little uncertainty, having no doubt caught the way his voice had dipped, the purposeful choice of words, the way he was taking up space on the couch. “What?” he asked nonetheless, voice just above a whisper. “Greedy boys get punished.”

Or, Harry has a little bad habit- he peeks at gifts early because he is too impatient to wait to open them. Louis is determined to catch him this time, and show him that actions have consequences.

＊ All at once, this is enough by @lunarheslwt (G, 7k, Louis/Harry)

“Could you help me…to make a nest?” His question was whisper soft, not daring to look at Louis’ face as he asked. For a few seconds, nothing but silence ensued. And then- “You want me to help you make your nest?” Harry’s blush deepened as he meekly affirmed, “yes.” The lack of response straightaway from Louis, and the way he had questioned the request, had Harry’s stomach churning uneasily. Why did he ask that? You don’t ask your friends to build you nests, what the fuck Harry. Louis must think him to be such a twit- “I’ll help.”

Or, Harry, overcome with burn out, wants to nest but he has never nested before, doesn’t know how to. Louis, his best friend, is only happy to help him make a nest and be there for him. Along the way, they find something more.

＊ ready for a war by @nouies (E, 1k, Louis/Harry)

Harry was so close to getting caught, and it was all on that stupidly pretty cocktail waiter.

＊ Devoted by @nouies (E, 5k, Louis/Alisson Becker)

A collection of drabbles about Louis’ life as the housewife of a professional football player.

＊ Chew Toys, Table Scraps and Fresh Starts by zmmf / @zaynmaliksmiddlefinger (M, 94k, Zayn/Liam)

Liam never imagined he’d be starting over like this, but at least he’s finally allowing himself to have a little fun with his new companion—a whip-smart Klee Khai.

Zayn has spent his entire life waiting to begin this chapter, and a fun new hobby with his enthusiastic Pomeranian by his side is only the start of exciting things to come.

And for both men, a chance meeting on the amateur dog show circuit is about to lead somewhere neither expected.

＊ Behind closed doors by bluegreenish / @greenblueish (E, 10k, Louis/Harry)

“You should ask that whoever he’s currently fucking.”

Liam’s eyes grow wide.

“No.” His tone is unbelieving, just like Louis’ would’ve been if you had told him what turn today would take.

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

Louis’ room mate’s eyes barely leave him as he tries to untie his shoes without looking.

“Went to his dorm earlier, found a sock on his door handle. He’s such an arsehole.”

or, the one where omega Louis finds a sock on alpha Harry's door handle that causes a big misunderstanding but is also the beginning of something new.

＊ Falling (For Two) by sitandadmire / @louistomlionson (NR, 1k, Niall/Louis/Harry)

In the middle of a morning run, Harry loses his balance. Niall and Louis are walking to their car just in time to witness his tumble and, lucky for him, more than happy to help.

Or: A Harry falling AU.

＊ Wanted: Dog Walker by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf (G, 6k, Harry/Louis)

Louis needs a dog walker. Harry answers the ad.

＊ I Hope You Choke (on those words) by Imogenlee / @imogenleefic (E, 3k, Louis/Harry)

Harry Styles had been head of security for concert venues for over eight years. Never in his career had he seen a musician as reckless when it came to personal safety as Louis Tomlinson. After making his job a living nightmare, Harry decided he needs to talk some sense into Louis. If only there were some way to shut him up.

＊ Stroke of Twelve by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus (E, 2k, Louis/Harry)

He was close, he was so close, and he knew it was much too soon; the countdown to midnight hadn’t even begun yet.

Or the one where Louis wants Harry to hold off his orgasm so they can come together at the stroke of twelve on New Year's Eve.

＊ He's Got the Money, Baby Honey by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus (E, 10k, Harry/Louis)

“Can you tell me what my postbox, my Venmo account, and your thick skull all have in common? …They’re all empty.”

Finsub Harry forgets his dom’s weekly gift. Louis makes him pay for the mistake with a shopping spree.

＊ Midnight by @kingsofeverything (E, 10k, Louis/Harry)

“Alphas are for fucking and pheromones,” Louis said during their first conversation, when he was moving into the building and Harry offered to help haul boxes up the stairs. “I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own groceries.”

Louis relented when his Omega friend Zayn intervened and asked if he was also capable of moving his couch by himself. All Harry’d wanted to do was be a good neighbor. Now, here he is, half a year later, balls deep and four months into a no strings attached, sex only situation with the Omega of his dreams. He’s still not sure how it happened. 

＊ Eyes on the Horizon by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright (E, 12k, Harry/Louis)

Freshly dumped, recently fired, and about to turn 40, Harry's friends insist on taking him skydiving to cheer him up. His younger and extremely fit instructor Louis makes him even more nervous than the idea of jumping out of a plane, but both may be exactly what he needs to turn his life around.

＊ Netflix Original by @allwaswell16 (T, 1k, Louis/Harry)

Harry's hot neighbor overhears that he doesn't have Netflix.

＊ Walk of Shame by @allwaswell16 (T, 1k, Harry/Louis)

On a cold, rainy autumn morning Louis meets someone else doing the walk of shame.

＊ every day and tomorrow night by @justanothershadeofblue (E, 8k, Louis/Harry)

Harry stares. The new boy is beautiful, there’s no other word for him. He’s got caramel brown hair in a tousled cut and cheekbones for days, skin that’s tanned a deep gold, and eyes a shade of blue that’s visible even from across the room. He’s standing with his hands on his hips and one knee slightly bent, his thighs thick where they extend past the ragged hem of his denim shorts. His biceps are defined and his hands look small but capable, and Harry’s mouth is quite literally watering.

“What’s his name?” Harry asks, without taking his gaze off the boy in the doorway. He doesn’t want to blink and miss a single moment of eye candy.

Zayn chuckles. “See something you like, then?”

“You know the rule, Z,” Harry answers, still not pulling his eyes away from this unexpected Adonis. “If I lick it, it’s mine.”

＊ High Tide by Stria / @nooradeservedbetter (E, 14k, Harry/Louis)

Louis tilted his head to give more access to the stranger, canted his hips, slipped his hands under the stranger’s shirt, trying to get closer, closer. “You never told—your name,” he said, panted. “’s not good etiquette.”

The stranger snorted, a hot puff of air that made Louis shiver. The door closed with a slam, and then the stranger’s hand was palming Louis’ arse, big and secure. “Harry,” he said, mumbled against his neck, following it with a light bite. “Wasn’t really thinking about etiquette when you have an arse like this.”

At that, Louis had to scratch Harry’s back, making him hiss. “Rude,” he said, “how would I know—what name to scream if you make me come?”

Or, a positive covid test after a one night stand forces a cohabitation. And a lot of sex happens.

＊ The Pros and Cons of Breathing by @hellolovers13 (E, 7k+ wip, Harry/Louis)

Omega Harry has always known he'd be married off someday, so when he's betrothed to the prince, he's anxious about having to leave his life behind, but hopeful for a happy marriage.

The hope doesn't last long, with his husband avoiding him at all costs and Harry being left to fend for himself.

Can he find happiness even in a broken marriage?

＊ For you, I would fall from grace by @lunarheslwt (E, 14k, Louis/Harry)

"You're hard", Louis observed casually, like it was a comment on the weather. An odd, choking noise left Harry at being surveyed so closely, at Louis' gaze lingering on his hard cock clearly outlined through his boxers. To make matters worse, the image of his daddy - dressed sharply in his suit, hair coiffed to perfection, looking the very epitome of dominant - eyeing him with a teasing smirk, was a lot. Harry felt his brain turn to pure static. "Well how could I not," he managed, aiming for flippant but the words falling as desperate. "Aw. It's not my fault that you get turned on by servicing me, doll.”

Or, when asked what he wanted for his birthday, Harry had just one request; he wanted to be used and to be useful. Louis was only happy to indulge him. A day of service ensued.

＊ The Top of Your Lungs by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche (M, 31k, Harry/Louis)

After the devastating attack that left him the sole member of what was once an ancient and powerful pack, Louis has sworn his life to protecting those facing the same threat. He could never have predicted his devotion to the last of his kind would lead him falling bloody and exhausted into arms of the most enigmatic omega to exist.

There is something about Harry Styles and the way the moon sings his name, but will it be enough to convince Louis to face the misbegotten power latent in his veins? Through the throes of battle and passion, it's a test of will-power for Louis to keep himself from doing the unimaginable and following his heart.

[hyrsamx]

@senatusstarters location: Hakan's Chrimmus Bash notes: Play That Funky Mayor

It began with a speech, jovial and welcoming as Dimetor honoured the many people that had given up everything for their great city. He then explained that yes, he was but a simple mortal man but the senate had told him everything and he was resolved to make this city a safe place once again - for everyone. He thanked Hakan for opening his home to Rome and declared the party to be an official annual celebration in the Roman calendar, Saturnalia would end on the 23rd and Hakanalia (patent pending) would be held on the 25th. 

Naturally, Dimetor then kicked off into a musical number. 

"Hey do it now Yeah hey,"

Mayor Dimetor stepped out onto the stage as the music flooded the soundstage, the backup dancers were all meticulously dressed, sequins, tassels, and colour blocking that accented the Mayor’s attire: iridescent body glitter that refracted the neon lights and a pair of horns that everyone would assume were really convincing fakes. While the microphone wasn’t his ideal, Dimetor slid into place as he kicked off the Christmas Bash to end all Christmas Bashes.

"Hey once I was a boogie singer Playin' in a rock and roll band I never had no problems yeah Burnin' down one night stands And everything around me, yeah Got to stop to feelin' so low And I decided quickly, yes I did To disco down and check out the show Yeah they was,"

In the corner of the room Hyrsam saw Boranehn with their arms folded, so naturally he tossed the wyvern a wink as he sang. A synchronous clop trotted with the thunderous bass as the seemingly mortal man and his accompaniment of stringent professionals moved through a clearly well-coordinated routine. Hyrsam had done four tours with Britney, Beyonce was still upset that he’d turned down the Homecoming tour but Honey Balenciaga was a good alternative.

"Dancin' and singin' and movin' to the groovin' And just when it hit me somebody turned around and shouted Play that funky music white boy Play that funky music right Play that funky music white boy Lay down that boogie and play that funky music 'til you die 'Til you die, yeah, oh 'til you die."

Ariadne looked like she needed to loosen up, his treasured friend, Bacchus smiled at her and the various archdruids he saw strewn about the party. To them it was probably a small matter for a God to conceal his presence; now came the shimmy, Bacchus shifted as he waltzed across the stage, Elmas was wearing her signature human hair unit as she expertly played the keyboard. There wasn’t much his assistant couldn’t do, she was highly skilled. 

"Gonna play that electrified funky music, yeah" "Hey wait a minute Now first it wasn't easy Changin' rock and roll and minds And things were getting shaky I thought I'd have to leave it behind But now it's so much better (it's so much better) I'm funking out in every way But I'll never lose that feelin' (no I won't) Of how I learned my lesson that day"

Those from the garden were some of his favourites, had they tried the chicken at the party tonight? It was to die for. Because Dionysus was Dionysus he’d put a few drops of blood into each of the wine kegs… And the water as well, he’d also put a lot into the pool. Were people trying not to drink? With all of Dionysus that was wafting through the air, that wasn’t going to be possible. Have fun, go wild, get crazy. Dionysus stuck his tongue out as he backed it up across the stage. 

"When they were Dancin' and singin' and movin' to the groovin' And just when it hit me somebody turned around and shouted Play that funky music white boy Play that funky music right Play that funky music white boy Lay down that boogie and play that funky music 'til you die 'Til you die, yeah, oh 'til you die."

The big finish, Soterius got down and started whacking before he and the ace team of satyr dancers vogued into a set of synchronised death drops. The hero of every story, the idea behind every invention, the saviour of everyone: what couldn’t Soterius do? With these hooves? Nothing. 

Mayor Dimetor dismounted the stage after riding it hard and hanging it up wet, "Enjoy the show?"

[gimmethosedaddymilkers]

Your first time with the Van Der Linde Gang pt.3

Welcome to part three lovelys! Get ready for some more of your favorite outlaws and how they BOOGIE

DO THE DEVIL’S TANGO

THE HORIZONTAL MAMBO

Anyway lmao

This is for @12timetraveler​ and I know @photo1030​ was interested in seeing it too!

Warnings: NSFW Themes, 18+ readers only. Explanations of sexual themes obviously Under the cut!

Hosea Matthews

Hosea is an incredibly charming man

You can tell him that it’s your first time but he’s got that figured out miles before you tell him

So he is completely unfazed by your confession and simply smiles at you reassuringly. 

He knows that, and he appreciates you kindly telling him before something transpired between the two of you. 

He wants to do the absolute best for you that he can.

He’s gonna go all out

First of all he’s a con man

He can trick a dog off a meat wagon and he will to ensure the best for you.

He manages to even get you two the best possible hotel room in the whole country, simply by sweet talking and playing up the idea that you only have a few days left with your ‘illness’ and you two don’t pay a dime.

When you get there he’s also managed to get the best wine for the two of you and a meal that was brought up to your room

It was a large room, a king sized canopy bed and a fireplace all to your own. 

An adjourning bath as well, that was private!

So of course the entire night he pampers you and thrills your mind with his stories of grandeur throughout his life

He tells you the most romantic things he can possibly think of, every story that can paint him in a heroic, romantical, fantastical light.

It’s just so wonderful to listen to him twist his words into magical linguistics

 He is kind enough to help you bathe, the two of you will sit together, though he is gentlemenly enough to let the bath simply be a bath.

He helps clean you gently and easily, rubbing your shoulders, and lathering up your arms and legs with the gentlest of touches

He kisses your shoulders and neck to remind you he’s there and the two of you have casual conversation together.

It doesn’t even feel like it’s your first time because he makes it feel as though it’s just another night, and that’s what makes it so special.

He’s tender and kind through the whole night, being extremely considerate about how you’re feeling and what’s going on. 

He is just a wonderful lover, kind and gentle, but he can be rough when he needs to.

(He taught Arthur a couple of things when he was younger, I mean, the boy needed a few pointers he’s not exactly the best with people)

After the deed is done he’s just as caring as he was before.

He’s immediately ready to take care of you, cleaning you up, and giving you water and doing his best to make sure that you are absolutely content and happy with the way things went. 

The next morning he takes you out for tea before going back to camp 

:) 

Sean McGuire

Let’s face facts here people

Sean is

well

Sean

He isn’t exactly the most romantic man on the planet. 

hell, he hardly ever takes you on dates, but in his defense he’s never been taught that, that’s how you’re supposed to treat your significant other

So when you tell him

“Hey, I’ve never really done this before”

While his hand his already under your shirt or in your pants grabbing at whatever it is he can find he nearly screams

“What the hell do you mean you’ve never done this before?”

He isn’t mad at you, or judging you of course, but he does wish you would have told him before it had gotten to this point

but you tell him the only reason you told him is because you wanted him to take it easy on you, not because you didn’t want to do anything

He’s super timid after you tell him of course. 

He gets super nervous, he wants you to have a good time and as much as he boasts about being so good at what he does, he not actually too confident in his skills

He does the best he can when it comes to it, taking extra care to make sure that he’s going easy on you, whereas by now had it not been your first time he would have already been knee deep in the good stuff

If you reassure him that it’s okay to pretend it’s all normal he’ll do his best to, but no guarantees. 

After he finally gets into a rhythm of the mood he’ll go back to normal, but he does still take his time with you, he wants to make sure that you think he’s good of course

(He cares about you and how you feel and that you have a good time but I mean he has a reputation, he wants to uphold)

after all is said and done you both get cleaned up, being nice to one another you clean him and he cleans you, and then you both cuddle together in the shared tent you have

of course

he asks you if it was okay for your first time

and you tell him yes and then he asks 

“Why did you chose me for your first time?”

and you tell the dumb irish bastard

“Cause I love you stupid.” 

Bill Williamson

Bill is a big man only outshined by Arthur, and only by very little. 

Now, he’s a huge man, but he’s got an even bigger heart

this man wants nothing to be nice to you, to love you.

Granted he does have his issues, just like all of the members of the gang, but he’s doing his best to try and work them out

That’s part of the reason why you were with him, you loved his personality and thought he was extremely attractive, and that attitude of wanting to fix himself was just so fantastic to you.

When you shyly bring up the fact that you’d like to lay with him and that it’d be your first time he panics.

He’s never had someone want to be with him without him paying for it

So you telling him you want to, and you want to without him even asking he’s floored

But, hearing that it’s your first time he’s worried

He’s never thought he was very exceptional at the whole sex thing, and he really didn’t want to disappoint you when it came down to it

of course

you didn’t have anything to really compare it to

but

that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want it to be good for you

He has no idea where to start but he refuses to ask you because he wants the night to be a romantic surprise

so of course

he goes to one of the guys to ask

he thinks about going to Arthur first but he and Arthur had never been extremely close, so that was out

Javier was also out, on the fact that the two of them had a little bit of a rivalry, so end the end he went to the camp dad

Hosea

Who was happy to tell him exactly what to do and where to take you

The two of you have a ride in a wagon, a comfortable one, a carriage even, through the country, seeing all there is to see

It takes you all the way to your favorite town, whatever one it may be, and rather than taking you to a hotel he’ll take you just outside of town to a beautiful vista

or if you have a favorite place around there he’ll take you there

and that’s where the magic happens

he’s brought liquor for the two of you, he only drinks a little, he doesn’t want to ruin anything by getting to buzzed or drunk all together

Then 

when things get heated

he loses himself for a little 

but he regains his posture and asks you what you like, what you want, and has you guide him the whole way, making sure that he actually makes the night good enough for you to remember for the rest of your life.

When the two of you are done he doesn’t let you move a muscle and cleans you with a smile on his face, asking you if he did alright by you, and if you enjoyed your night

of course you did, he was a gentlemen but he was also himself, joking and laughing like always

Lenny Summers

Lenny is a book learner everything he knows about romance comes from the novels he reads, much like Mary-Beth

So he usually treats you fantastically as it is, always telling you how wonderful you are, how beautiful/handsome you are, and how absolutely fantastic a person you are

he tells you more than once a day that he would like to spend his entire life with you.

And he knew from the beginning when you two got together that you had never been intimate.

So the two of you had decided to just let it happen, it would happen naturally when it happened.

 But, along came your one year anniversary

And he had a whole plan, it was a special day to him and he was gonna treat it as such

He made a meal for the two of you himself, taking you out to his favorite place, where he knew you’d like the view, out in the Grizzlies, facing a waterfall and bridge, which was beautifully covered in fog in the late afternoons

The two of you have your picnic and eat, talking and joking and of course he has a gift for you too.

It’s a beautiful necklace that he’s clearly thought out

It’s gold with a very small round pedant on it

The pendant has your birthstone on it, shining and immortalized there, the back has the date the two of you got together engraved on it.

He will sit and read to you with his oil lantern in your tent, and a blanket wrapped around both of you

this time it’s actually you who starts things

You kiss him on the neck while he’s reading and after the first few he’s has to keep rereading what he’s already read to try and comprehend his own words

before you know it the two of you are having fun

He takes his time with you, and makes absolute certain that you aren’t hurt

For the most part it’s one of the most natural things you’ve ever done

it felt right and in no way felt awkward

by the time you two were finished you’d never felt so content and tired

The two of you lay together and it’s almost immediately that he falls asleep with his head on your chest and your hands in his hair. 

I hope you all enjoyed this! If anyone has anymore you’d like me to write just let me know! 

Thank you for reading!!

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

ohhhh my god mac. mac. part 2 of the cullen games. that was SO GOOD. i knew it wouldn't be that easy to kill edward bro i KNEW it couldn't be the real edward in the arena but god it was so satisfying just for a second to think that maybe he was dead. man. this campaign is everything. one minute arthur was agonizing over his own humanity and about to kill a woman and the next he was throwing it back on a tree branch. supermassive black hole playing in the background while arthur played vampire baseball. the boogie bombs. what the fuck was that <3

and OH MY GOD THEO WITH THE INSANE ROLLS????? BRO JUST DIDN'T DIE??????? WHAT THE FUCK????? CHARLIE'S DICE WERE BLESSED BY GOD OR SOMETHING THEO JUST DID NOT DIE. THAT'S MY BOY!!!!!!!!!!! also I Understand his true faith thing. i get it now. i'm losing my mind over it. fellas is it gay to have such devotion and complete and utter faith in your best friend of all time to the point where you are literally immune to vampiric mind control?????? fellas???? is this gay???? is it??? who knows. thats INSANE though dude i so thought emizel and theo would have to try killing each other but theo just went "nope <3" and it was so fucking epic oh my god. theo is the GOAT!!!! FR!!!!!!

and arthur oughghgh arthur slowly losing more and more humanity by consuming these other vampires. what if i exploded. HIS WINGS BRO. HIS WINGS WERE SO SICK. THAT WAS THE SICKEST THING EVER. OH MY GOD. AND THE SNIPER RIFLE WAS ALSO PRETTY SICK NGL. god im obsessed with arthur he's literally such a mary sue character and i love that for grizzly actually. arthur just kept getting more and more cool and angsty throughout the campaign. i love me a man with cool wings who is also riddled with guilt and struggles to keep hold of his humanity <3

SHILO........ THE FUCKING. GUY OF ALL TIME ACTUALLY. ugh. dude. lemme tell u i went insane when charlie told bizly to remove shilo's innocence specialty after turning "edward" ugly. fucked up oh my goddd i love shilo fucked up moments <3 i love when shilo is fucked up and also loses all his innocence <3 also FUCK YOU BIZLY FOR DESCRIBING BEN'S LAST MEMORY. WHAT THE FUCK DUDE. WHAT THE FUCK. BIZLY WHEN I GET YOU. oh i am so so scared of what he will do as the dm for prime defenders. mac im scared. if he can make me almost cry with one (1) fucked up little guy i am TERRIFIED of what he can do guiding a whole story

EMIZEL MY BABYGIRL <3 he is my everything. my right hand arm. man. my confidant. my silly rabbit <3 THE LIL NOTE HE LEFT IN HIS OWN ASHESSSSSSSS BROOOOOOOO losing my mind im going to be thinking about that forever and ever. my favourite part was him sucking gabriel to death <3 i love those two and their homoerotic fights. i know gabriel is dead but how fucking funny would it be if he somehow came back next season just to fuck with emizel. i would love that so much. also theo is totally still alive trust me he is going to find emizel and they are going to kiss next season. trust me charlie slimecicle told me himself 👍

man. that was SO FUCKING GOOD. god. im excited im so so excited for if/when another suckening season comes out. i love these guys!!!!!! i want them back ASAP i miss them already!!!! i do like emizel and arthur but tbh shilo reallyyyyy really grew on me. innocent lil guy who gets his entire worldview turned upside down and then does extremely fucked up things and loses some of his humanity along the way but still has so so much love in him and will continue loving and caring despite how shitty the world is. what if i exploded and died right now i fucking love shilo bathroy so much i am putting him in a microwave in my mind and spinning him around i am throwing him against a wall so he makes a loud thud like a sopping wet beanie baby full of milk i am grabbing him in my teeth and flailing him around like a chew toy <3

OK. WONDERFUL. prime defenders next 👍 im so ready i am sure there will be no heartbreaking storylines and no angst and people will not die and it will be a good happy fun time for everyone!!!!!!

DUUUUUDE THE FUCKING. THEOS ROLLS WERE SO INCREDIBLE . BECAUSE THERE IS A RUNNING JOKE ACROSS EVERY SINGLE JRWI CAMPAIGN. THAT CHARLIE SLIMECICLE IS FUCKING CURSED . HIS ROLLS ARE ALWAYS SO FUCKING BAD AND KNOWING THIS GOING INTO THE THEO FIGHT I WAS SO FUCKING STRESSED DUDE. I WAS SO STRESSED. I WAS LIKE FUCK MAN CHSRLIE IS ROLLING FOR HIM HES GONNA DIE HERE. AND THAT SCENE WENT ON FOR SO FUCKING LONG . GOOD GOD. I love you theo soda i love you so dearly. ugahbhhhh. also yeah fellas it's totally fucking gay. they did a qna after the last ep and talk about the true faith thing and how it works mechanically and jonesy and i left matching comments on it that looked like this:

dude yeah arthurs whole.diablerie arc was so fucked up. he lost so much of his humanity at the midnight circle. god. broke ass ugly vampire still manages to be the coolest fucking guy ever. the curse of being a grizzly pc.

DUDE THE FUCKING. "I NEED YOU TO REMOVE YOUR INNOCENCE SPECIALYY" THAT GOT ME SO BAD. SHILOOOOO I LOVE YOU SHILO D:

also there is totally 100% a way gabriel can come back next season because IN THE FUCKING. DEFINITION FOR DIABLERIE IN THE HANDBOOK it says . when you do that theres a chance for the soul of the vampire you killed to stick around and haunt your ass. I need this to happen

I also love shilo so much i think if I had 2 pick a favorite it would be him. i just. he makes me so sad. he's my fucked up little prince I love him so much :( he's never gonna get to go home again dude. hhughghghhghh :((((

[tookishcombeferre]

Mentopolis Theory: Part 1

Hi! 

I have finally managed to have time to watch the newest Dimension 20 - Mentopolis, and (of course) my autistic ass is obsessed with Mr. The Fix. 

Thus, it is theory time! However, beware, there are many spoilers below the cut.

So, my theory is that The Fix IS Elias Hodge (and, to a greater or lesser extent, we are our own hyperfixations.) My reasons for believing this are as follows: 

1) The Fix, like Elias, was simply a cog in a much larger machine (M. Bition and Henry of Gobstopper Industries play the same role in each of their lives.) 

2) A person's focus (fixation) is where their mind is occupied at any given time. 

3) Elias starts to take on the traits of the different cognitive functions The Fix interacts with as the series progresses. 

To address point one, the story of Elias and The Fix directly parallel each other. The Fix, as instructed by M. Bition, destroys and/or detains all thoughts that are not completely centered on the goal. Thus, The Fix basically becomes a background boogie man that no one really knows at all. He feels nothing. He puts his nose to the grind and does his job because that's what he has been told to do. 

Sound familiar? 

In the same way, Elias, instructed by Henry of Gobstopper Industries, focuses on the task that he has been given. He becomes a background character in the city in which he lives. No one sees him. No one loves him. No one really even talks to him apart from his boss. Elias feels nothing. Elias only pays attention to his work. He puts his nose to the grind and does his job because that's what he has been told to do. Elias does all this because his focus keeps his mind only on the tasks he has been assigned. Elias' focus is on his work and nothing else. 

If The Fix is Elias, then it makes perfect sense why Madame Loathing says that The Fix gives the children false hope as well as why she would say that "focusing on her only makes her stronger." Then, Brennan actually calls out this parallel when The Fix and Elias are falling out the window together. I believe Brennan says something about how The Fix actually sees himself as Elias. I finally found the quote: " You jumped through the glass. There's a scar on your face. You feel some connection to something bigger and more important than yourself." If all of this is true, what Elias/ The Big Guy focuses on in his own mind is what gets strong and nurtured. The Fix constantly destroying intrusive thoughts is what he's there for - Elias needs to do that.  Nobody wants to lick gasoline off their fingers, or eat leaves off the sidewalk, or steal birthday cake. Ya know? Like, those things are bad for us and for other people. So, in that way, The Fix does aid Elias in being human. He keeps him alive and in the good graces of others. However, The Fix slowly loses himself as Elias Hodge does because of the way Elias allows/ the world encourages Elias' "Fix" to be lose focus on what makes him human. 

This leads directly into point two: A person's focus (fixation) is where their mind is occupied at any given time. Elias' focus is perpetually narrowed in on his job. Cortisol is the only thing his brain can find because he isn't allowed to focus on (or have) dopamine, endorphins, and especially oxytocin. Coffee is everywhere, but pleasure is nowhere to be found. They're in a prohibition on oxytocin! That's the hormone that is the basis for all human connection. 

The Fix literally destroys and/or detains things that could give Elias any hope for these pleasure hormones. Indulging his childhood interests, however briefly, in Madame Loathing's orphanage is the closest Elias can get to pleasure and positive feeling. He can't kill these interests, but he also can't indulge them either. This means that Elias has no hobbies. The Fix only goes to Sugah's to destroy criminals because, as we discover, no one, apart from the orphans, even really know that he's real! The Fix is completely and solely occupied on Elias' work because that's where Elias himself is focused. Thus, The Fix and Elias are each other in the sense that Elias' focus on his work is where is mind is occupied. Elias' isn't allowed to wander, and The Fix is strictly controlled by M. Bition. This leads to Elias forgetting to focus on important things like listening to impulses that will protect him, paying attention to those impulses and desires, receiving pleasure from and giving pleasure to others, indulging our passions new and old, learning and embracing new things, and listening to the too small voices that tell us right from wrong. 

In part 2, I will break apart the Fix's relationship with each of the other characters and discuss point three in more detail. 

[philhoffman]

Phil as Gene in The Author's Voice, a 1999 Drama Dept. production of David Greenberg one-act play at the Greenwich House Theater.

Interesting little play—Gene is a "horribly twisted gnome" with a talent for writing. He lives in the closet and ghostwrites for Todd, the handsome but dull guy who serves as the public face of their secret partnership. "The world outside might be a painful place but every place is a painful one, so why not?" "Make me famous, Gene. I want to be famous. People will photograph me and write about me. I'll study how they see me and live inside it. It'll be like a home."

It received some mixed reviews, mostly due to the direction, but most critics praised PSH's performance: "Hoffman is a treat as the sly kvetch of a recluse whose machinations supply both laughs and a neat twist of an ending." This critique, though, is kind of hilariously prescient considering the role Phil would take a few years later:

Part of the problem is that Mr. Hoffman, who has created memorable portraits of more pedestrian losers in films like Boogie Nights and Happiness, simply isn't repellent enough, suggesting nothing more threatening than Truman Capote in a hooded sweatshirt.

The actor James Urbaniak auditioned for the same role and wrote a really nice article about the experience/PSH's performance in 2014:

Philip Seymour Hoffman enters. He is on the floor, crawling. Army style. Pulling his weight towards the desk. It takes time. His breathing is labored. The energy in the theater has changed. You can feel the audience adapting to the force that has just been introduced. The force emanating from a prone man pulling his big body across a small off-Broadway stage. He’s a big man and his presence is big, theatrical. But also subtle, inward. It rings true. This silent entrance contains a physical intensity and emotional depth that is nowhere near what I had done in my audition. And I am struck by the alarming realization that it’s highly unlikely I ever would have gotten there.

More info on this production is hard to come by, but the reason I read the play and decided to post about it today is a tweet I saw earlier. The thread was about method acting and how it can be done well, effectively, and kindly—without abusing other actors, crew, or anyone else:

Years ago, when I was an intern at the NYC theater company Drama Dept., Philip Seymour Hoffman starred in a play there. He introduced himself to each member of staff and told us, "I'm method, so please tell me if you are ever uncomfortable and I will break character." [He] was a pro.

One of my favorite little Phil stories I've read ❤️