#how he was in 1952 is maybe a bit too good to him

[gorillaxyz]

tjis was crazy to me

OH MY GOD...

[arc852]

3. Plush

Definition: something soft or luxurious

Summary: It's been weeks since Jimmy has gotten any sleep and it's really starting to affect him. Grian and Joel notice and try to help.

Warnings: Sleep Deprivation

G/t: Grian and Joel are humans, Jimmy is a borrower

Word Count: 2670

AO3 Link

This is another fic within the Bad Boys Borrower College AU! Or BBBCAU for short, I guess lol.

Also, I realized some of you guys might not know what borrowers are. So here is a quick explanation.

A borrower is a tiny person who is only a few inches tall. They are human in appearance other than their size and their whole thing is living in walls and 'borrowing' things from humans to help them survive, all without being caught. They were created by Mary Norton back in 1952 in the form of a book series! Since then there have been several movie adaptations, including a Studio Ghibli film called The Secret World of Arrietty!

Hopefully that helped! And I hope you enjoy!

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 Jimmy had not been getting a lot of sleep lately.

 It used to come to him so easily too, he used to be able to just lay down, close his eyes, and the next thing he knew, it would be morning. He didn’t know how much of a good thing he had until it was gone because nowadays it felt like he wasn’t getting any sleep at all. 

 Jimmy glanced over at the time, from an old watch he managed to borrow, and groaned as he realized what time it was. So much for his nap. With a heavy sigh, he got out of bed, something small he had put together with some borrowed tissues and a (clean) sock. He stretched and rubbed at his eyes to try and stop the stinging. 

 He was on autopilot as he grabbed his bag and hook and got all of his other things together. He was barely aware as he left his little nook and walked along the inner walls. Time seemed to jump forward as Jimmy blinked back into consciousness, looking around and realizing he had somehow made it all the way to Grian and Joel’s room already.

 Well that wasn’t the least bit concerning.

 Shaking his head, Jimmy scouted out his surroundings. Grian and Joel still weren’t back yet, so the coast was clear. He came out from underneath the desk and headed over toward Joel’s nightstand. With how the room was set up, Joel’s nightstand was more in the center of the room, with Joel’s bed facing vertically from where the door was. Grian’s was on the opposite wall but facing horizontally from the door, so his nightstand was more off to the side.

 All this to say, Jimmy had made it a habit to go to Joel’s nightstand whenever he visited. It was just the easier one to get to and see the whole room from. Once he made it to the nightstand, he unfurled his hook, doing his best to concentrate on not getting it tangled. He hard blinked a few times to keep himself focused and then pulled back and swung the hook upwards.

 The hook missed by a short distance and fell back to the floor in front of Jimmy. He winced and gathered it up to try again. He narrowed his eyes and let it go once more. This time, the hook caught the side of the nightstand. Jimmy tested the rope strength briefly before climbing up.

 He pulled himself up and onto the table and then turned back around to wind his hook and rope back up. Once that was done, he shoved it back into his bag and sat down to wait for Grian and Joel to get back.

 He sat back against the lamp because he wasn’t sure if he would be able to keep himself upright otherwise. He was so tired and yet sleep still eluded him. How was that fair? Maybe if he continued to not sleep he would simply pass out eventually. He’d be lying if he said that didn’t sound appealing. Even just a little bit.

 His eyes drifted close…but then he opened them a moment later when the door to the room opened up. His eyes were a bit blurry but he could see who was clearly Grian and Joel enter the room and close the door behind them.

 “--And then he just up and left.” Joel said as he came in, Jimmy missing whatever it was he had said to start with. They seemed to be in the middle of talking and Jimmy didn’t want to interrupt them, so he stayed quiet and waited for a chance to chime in. For now, he watched as Joel swung his backpack off his shoulder and haphazardly tossed it onto the floor by the foot of his bed.

 “Well that doesn’t sound like him at all.” Grian said back with a hum. He went over to his desk and placed his bag on top of it, opening it up and shifting through it, taking out some books and papers and putting them on the desk as well. “Did Tango say anything else?”

 Joel shrugged, leaning against his desk to look at Grian. “Just that he came back a few hours later and pretended nothing had happened.” 

 “Weird.” Grian simply replied with.

 Honestly, Jimmy had barely been listening to their actual words. He had already forgotten what the conversation had entailed, at least what little of it he had heard. Hearing them speak was familiar and nice and it just made his eyes feel even more heavy.

 Jimmy was startled out of his sleepiness as Joel’s voice cut through. “Jimmy? When did you get here?” Joel said with a hint of surprise in his voice. Jimmy blinked and looked up to see Joel had come closer to where Jimmy was sitting, looming over him and looking down with raised eyebrows.

 It took Jimmy a moment to answer. “Oh, um…not too long I don’t think.” Jimmy answered, realizing he was unsure. It didn’t feel like too long but time was acting really funny right now.

 “Well next time say something.” Joel said with a slight frown.

 “Yeah, we would prefer to know where you are at all times.” Grian had chimed in, coming over to get a better look at where Jimmy was. “For obvious reasons.”

 Jimmy winced, realizing staying quiet had been a bad idea. He just hadn’t wanted to interrupt them, that’s all. And he was too tired to make an effort to get them to see him. It was fine, he had made sure he was in a good and safe spot before they had gotten there. 

 Despite these thoughts though, he simply nodded. Though as he nodded he let his head hang low for longer than he should have. He blinked his eyes open, not realizing he had closed them and righted his head to look back up at the two humans. They suddenly looked concerned.

 “Is something wrong Tim?” Grian asked, eyes scanning over his body. 

 “No, no, I’m fine.” Jimmy said, trying his best to not sound as tired as he felt. He didn’t want them to worry. This was his problem to deal with. The humans had their own problems and they didn’t need to be worrying about Jimmy on top of them. 

 Unfortunately, his words were met with skepticism. Joel, being closer, squatted down in order to get a good look at Jimmy. Jimmy tried to turn his head away, to hide how he must look with no sleep, but a finger suddenly filled his vision and gently guided his head back forward. The finger stayed there as Joel looked at him and so Jimmy saw when his face fell. 

 “Jimmy, what happened?” Joel asked, and as he did so a thumb entered his vision and ran under his eyes. Once again, the touch was featherlight and gentle but Jimmy still flinched back a little from the touch. Joel noticed and took his thumb back but the finger touching the right side of his face remained. “You’ve got dark circles under your eyes, your hair is a mess, and…well, honestly you just look plain awful.”

 Jimmy glared at him though he knew it wasn’t intended to be an insult. The amount of worry in Joel’s voice at least told him that much. He hadn’t seen himself in a mirror in a while, but he was sure Joel was telling the truth about how he must look. 

 He wasn’t going to be able to hide it from them now. So he might as well tell them. Jimmy sighed. “I…I just haven’t been getting enough sleep. That’s all.”

 Grian and Joel exchanged looks. “How long has it been?” Grian asked after a moment.

 Jimmy thought back but honestly couldn’t remember when this had started. He shrugged. “It’s…been a while now, I think.” He forced his brain to work. “Maybe…um…” Jimmy trailed off. The answer had come to him but he was thinking maybe he shouldn’t say anything. But the constant worried looks from his two friends made him realize he needed to. “Maybe shortly after meeting you guys? So…two or three weeks? Something like that.”

 Joel blinked in shock. “Are you saying you haven’t really been sleeping for three weeks.” Joel looked at Jimmy with wide eyes and then moved to look at Grian. Grian’s eyes were narrowed in thought and worry.

 “Is it…our fault?” Grian asked a bit hesitantly. Joel froze and then finally took his hand back from where he had been touching Jimmy. 

 Jimmy missed the contact as soon as it left but turned to Grian to focus on what he had said. His eyes widened when it finally registered. “What? No! It’s-it’s not your guys fault!” Jimmy said, standing up a little too fast and feeling a little dizzy. He recovered quickly though. “Do you really think I would keep coming back here if I was so distraught about being found by you guys that I couldn’t sleep properly?” Jimmy asked, raising an eyebrow.

 Grian and Joel looked at each other, each with a slight wince and Jimmy frowned. “The answer is no, by the way.” Jimmy said, not letting them answer after seeing that. 

 Joel looked like he wanted to say something, but he bit his lip and Grian shook his head with a small sigh to himself. “Okay, then if that’s not it, what else could it be?” Grian said, and Jimmy was thankful for Grian moving right along. Though Jimmy made a mental note to talk to them about that reaction later on. Once he had enough brain to actually figure out what it meant.

 “I really don’t know…” Jimmy answered with a sigh. “My bed back at home just hasn’t been feeling as comfortable as before, I guess. And, I don’t know, it’s almost…too dark? In the walls now. Which has never been a problem before but…” The more he spoke, the more he was realizing, but he was still confused on why he was feeling differently about these things.

 “That’s weird.” Joel said, also trying to think why that would be.

 Grian, on the other hand, connected the dots and already had a pretty good idea why Jimmy wasn’t able to sleep. Instead of saying anything, however, he decided to try something first. “How about we help you try and get some sleep? We humans have some remedies that might just work for you.”

 Jimmy blinked, not having heard of this before. “Remedies?”

 Grian nodded. “Yep. I mean, it doesn’t hurt to try. Right?”

 Jimmy supposed that was true. The worst that would probably happen is that it just didn’t work. And the best is that he could finally get some sleep. “Okay. I’m willing to try.”

 Grian smirked, his plan now in action. “Great! Then the first one we can try is drinking warm milk.” He turned to Joel. “You mind going to get us some?”

 Joel blinked. “Wait, why do I have to do it?” 

 Grian shrugged, trying his best to appear nonchalant. “Cause I have some other stuff I can help Jimmy try while you go grab it.”

 Joel glared at him but sighed. “Fine. I’ll be back, I guess.” Joel grabbed his keys from the desk and then left the room, heading for the dorm’s kitchen area. Grian then turned back to Jimmy, ready for the last part of his plan now that Joel was gone.

 “Okay, while he’s doing that, let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.” Grian came closer and scooped Jimmy up, careful of how he was doing so. Jimmy let out a little noise of surprise but otherwise barely reacted. Already Grian could see Jimmy snuggling into the warmth of his hand, which was already proving the theory he had worked out.

 Grian sat on Joel’s bed and set Jimmy down in the middle, up enough so he could still use some of the pillow. He then pulled up the blanket and laid it across the borrower, careful to not cover his head. 

 Jimmy snuggled into the plush mattress. He had been in these beds only a handful of times so far but everytime it was like heaven. Jimmy imagined this was what a cloud must feel like but with the addition of being oh so warm. The feeling was already making Jimmy’s eyes droop.

 Grian smirked. “Comfy?”

 Jimmy nodded. “Yeah…” he trailed off into a sigh, snuggling his head further into the pillow. 

 Grian hummed as he watched Jimmy’s eyes fully close and his chest became a steady up and down. Grian grinned, patting himself on the back for figuring it out and getting Jimmy to finally fall asleep.

 It was at that moment that Joel came back, a glass of warm milk in his hand. “Alright, I got it.”

 “Shh!” Grian shushed him and Joel froze. Grian gently pushed himself off the bed, careful to not disturb Jimmy and walked over to Joel. “Jimmy’s asleep.” He whispered. And Joel frowned.

 “What was the point in me going to get the milk then?” Joel asked in a whisper, a bit annoyed at the unnecessary journey. Grian smirked, pointing over to Joel’s bed. Joel blinked and put the glass of milk down before walking over. Sure enough, Jimmy was there in the center, sound asleep.

 “Seriously? You made me leave so you could put Jimmy in my bed?” Joel asked, still keeping his voice low. Grian nodded and Joel huffed. “You could have at least left me some room here.” Joel motioned to the bed and the fact that Jimmy was right in the middle.

 Grian shrugged. “You could move him but then you’d risk waking him up.”

 Joel rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Yeah, no. I’m not going to do that to him. He clearly needs the sleep.” Joel looked at Jimmy for a long moment, mesmerized by how peaceful the borrower looked. “How did you get him to fall asleep anyway?” Joel hadn’t even been gone that long.

 “I figured out what was keeping him from sleeping in the first place.” Grian said, looking over at Jimmy. “I think…it is sort of our fault he hasn’t been able to sleep lately.”

 Joel blinked. “But, he said--”

 Grian cut him off. “I know but not in that way. I think we’ve been…well, spoiling him.”

 “Spoiling him.” Joel repeated, confused. “How so?”

 “Think about what he said before. His bed is no longer comfortable, he thinks his home is too dark, etcetera, etcetera.” Grian said, waving his hand along. “That’s technically our fault. He’s been out here, he’s been in our beds before, he’s used to how light our room is…” Grian explained, trailing off as Joel started to get what Grian was saying. “He couldn’t sleep because we gave him the chance to actually feel comfortable and now his old set up isn’t the same anymore.”

 “Oh.” Joel said, taking it all in. “Wow, that’s…” He looked over to Jimmy, still sleeping peacefully.

 “I know.” Grian said, despite Joel not finishing his sentence. “We should talk to him about it once he wakes up. Maybe…instead of going back to the walls he can stay with us.”

 Joel nodded. “Yeah, no, that sounds good to me.” Joel paused for a moment. “You think he’ll say yes?

 Grian nodded. “I think so. If we explain to him what happened and why he hasn’t been sleeping. I think he’ll be willing.” Grian shrugged and sat on his bed. “Besides, it’s a win win. Jimmy gets more sleep and you and I get to see him more.”

 Joel nodded, he did want to see Jimmy more especially if it meant it was also benefiting Jimmy as well. “Alright then, we’ll talk to him when he wakes up.” Now that that was settled, he went back to glaring at Grian. “Now onto the topic of where I’m going to sleep tonight.”

 Grian smirked.

 Joel ended up sleeping on the floor that night.

[smytherines]

Fuck it, here's an Agent Mega dissertation

Alright since I have such elaborate headcanon for my beloved precious Owen Carvour, I guess I should do it for Agent Curt Mega too. Sigh.

So, going off of the last big one, if Owen is born in 1928, then I'm gonna say Curt was born in 1930. I'm forever won to the Texan agent mega headcanon, but I think it's safe to say that Mrs. Mega is not from Texas, probably more like New York or I've seen people say New Jersey.

We know nothing about Agent Mega's dad, but I imagine he was kind of a loser and low level con artist and moved his pregnant wife down to Texas to do scams around the bustling oil industry, and then soon after Curt was born a scam collapsed and he ran off. It's either that or an Aladdin 3 situation where he was secretly a spy the whole time and had to go into hiding.

So we've got mama Mega, raising a VERY hyperactive (read: ADHD) little boy on her own, in a place where she doesn't have any support, and he just becomes her entire world. But she has to work a lot, so Curt becomes used to taking care of himself, and most importantly- keeping himself busy so he doesn't lose it.

In this headcanon Curt would only be 15 when WWII ends- not old enough to fight, but definitely old enough to have personally known a lot of kids from his hometown who come home in caskets. I just truly think of WWII as a formative experience for both these guys. For Curt it just feeds into that inferiority complex.

Now anybody who has ADHD knows that you already spend a lot of your life feeling inadequate, feeling self-conscious about not being able to be the person other people want you to be (*especially* if you're queer). You get defensive, especially when criticized. You also get restless.

I headcanon Curt as growing up in Abilene, Texas, mostly because I have a friend who grew up there and I've visited and the vibe is right.

I don't know if anybody has ever seen The Last Picture Show, but its a film set in small town Texas in 1951-1952 (so a little late for our timeline but still) and it's (more or less) about two high school seniors essentially trying to escape this suffocatingly small, dying town before they become doomed to spend their lives trapped there.

That's definitely what I think about Agent Mega too- this gay, ADHD teenage boy climbing the walls of this little town, never being able to fully be himself. But he's got a lot of energy (and more than a little anger) to burn off, so he does sports. It's Texas, so football for sure. Maybe wrestling too. Perhaps wrestling is even where he has his gay come to jesus moment.

And when he isn't doing sports, he's home, alone (mama Mega is working so hard), out back drinking a beer (or two, or three) and teaching himself how to shoot. I think he becomes hyperfixated on becoming an expert marksman, because with all of this shit he cannot control, all the stuff he is supposed to be but isn't, this is one area where it feels like he has the power here.

What starts off as "kid drinking beer to feel cool and rebellious" starts to morph into a lifetime dependence on alcohol. Substance use is a big issue for a lot of ADHDers for the same reason I think it would be for Curt- it calms him down. It eases that constant restlessness in his bones. It softens the edges of other people's criticisms of him. It makes him care a bit less what others think about him.

In a vicious cycle, he drinks to avoid feeling those big feelings (especially as a man, especially as a gay man, especially as a gay man in Texas), but the drinking leads to more criticism, which leads to more drinking to numb the emotional response to that criticism.

But his hyperfixation on learning to shoot pays off. Let's say he becomes a junior state champion trapshooter (did I look up trapshooting competitions from the 1940s? yes I did). He's good, especially when he hits the sweet spot of drinking just enough to calm his ass down but not so much that he's useless. Maybe this is how he comes to the attention of the A.S.S.

And he fully believes that these skills he cultivated, the ability to hit hard and run fast and shoot accurately, his ability to escape when it doesn't feel remotely possible, is why many years later he just kinda rolls his eyes at Owen for insisting that they do things carefully and methodically. Careful didn't get him out of small town Texas. Careful didn't get him the exciting non-stop life he has now, a life where he *almost* gets to be himself a lot of the time.

When Owen "dies," and its Curt's fault, he naturally turns to drinking to numb that pain. But its a lot of pain, so it takes a lot of alcohol to kill it.

I'm sure I could go on, but as always I have rambled a lot here so I'm just gonna leave it.

[kn-1013]

Exploratory Surgery #5 - Tough Shit

Summary: Travis loves Sal, but sometimes it seems like Sal likes Larry more. He and Ash talk about it. Word Count: 1952 Rating: G Pairing: Sal/Travis Warnings: N/A

A/N: Some people write Sal and Travis a little too healthy, so I'm here to fix that. Also throwing in one of my favorite headcannons: that Sal and Larry have a really unhealthy and codependent relationship down the line. Also, I'm really into the idea of Travis and Ash being really good friends.

========

“He’s holding onto you with claws and teeth, I hope you know that.” Ash said. She didn’t look at him as he spoke, just stared straight ahead with an expression Travis couldn’t read. Not that he was ever particularly good at reading expressions, but this felt like the kind of expression he should know the meaning of, and he just didn’t. He could only register that she seemed uncharacteristically stiff and bland.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

There was a long pause before she poke again.

“When I dated Sal, I used to get jealous of Larry because of how attached they were. It seemed like no matter what I did, I just couldn’t scratch the same kind of itch that Larry did.” She gave a melancholy smirk. “Which is funny, because when Sal first moved here, I was jealous of him because he was taking up all of Larry’s time, and he was my only friend. Heh.” Travis had a hard time telling if she was actually laughing, or if she was just bitter.

“Eventually, I gave up on trying to be like Larry to him. He’s so attached to the guy in a way that I’ve never really seen before in a person. Some kind of weird, fucked-up, codependent relationship that I’ll just never be able to fit into like Larry does. I don’t know what it is, but he just didn’t attach to me with his fingernails dug in like he did with Larry.” She sniffed, and breathed out, letting the winter fog out of her mouth.

Travis suddenly saw where this was going, and he felt a bit like a deer in headlights.

“But no, I see him with you, and maybe it’s not easy for you to tell, but it is for me. I see it clear as day. He’s got you. Fingernails, teeth, all of it.” Travis started to understand what the meaning of her expression was, that empty blandness. It was all she could do to keep her composure.

“It wasn’t that Larry was special. It’s that I wasn’t. That’s why he didn’t fight that hard when I broke up with him, when I left. He let me do whatever I wanted, and that was it.” She shrugged curtly. “He did everything a good boyfriend should do; he listened to me, he comforted me, he held me. He asked me about my day, he let me bitch about nothing, he braided my hair. When my tics made me punch myself till there were bruises, he would hug me so I’d hit him instead of myself. He did everything to the point where it’s weird that I’m complaining about it, but I am, because he did everything but let me in.” She sniffed again, and with the way she covertly rubbed her face out of the corner of his eye, Travis could tell she was crying now.

That sounded exactly like Sal.

“Because as much as he might’ve liked me, he just couldn’t find it in him to hold onto me like that. It wasn’t him, or Larry, or you. It’s me.” She shrugged curtly again. “I’m the one that’s not good enough.”

Travis stared ahead at the lake before them in shock. He didn’t know how to respond to any of that. The way Ash used her comparison to put herself down made him feel just as sick as the insinuation that Sal thought he was special made him feel warm.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed, though. He used to be friends with Larry and Ashley, after all. He knew them pretty well, even years after they stopped being friends. He knew Ash especially well because she didn’t live far from him, since they were both in the ‘burbs and Larry was across town, so he always hung out with her the most. He missed her.

The guys of their group call her a ‘lone wolf’, but she never really was. She was just a little bit out of place, and that displacement grew over the years the more it went unaddressed. The more Sal and Larry got closer and left everyone else out.

Travis was well aware of this weird dynamic when he got with Sal. The way Sal had actively done everything his power to hunt down a relationship with him, and still somehow found it in him to choose Larry over him a number of times could often be incredibly jarring. But Travis had never really been in a relationship before, and he hadn’t had proper friends for such a long time that he couldn’t be sure what was supposed to happen and what wasn’t. For a long while he thought that maybe it was just like that when you had a best friend.

But sitting here next to Ash and hearing her talk, it felt like he had a reason to feel like this. Rejected. Forgotten. Left behind.

But Ash was here, letting herself think that it was her fault when it wasn’t, and that’s what Travis couldn’t understand. She seemed to think that Sal was as attached to him as he was to Larry, and that wasn’t true either. He could hear something about ‘cognitive distortions’ in Sal or Todd’s voices, but Travis would say that she was getting caught up in her own head trying to figure out someone she had no means to help, and instead of pushing him to get help from someone else, she just blamed herself for not being able to fix it.

As much as Travis loved Sal, he knew Sal needed help, big help. Help that Travis himself couldn’t give without his own help. But he didn’t blame himself for it. He couldn’t overextend himself trying to help Sal when he knew he was waist-deep in his own shit, that would probably just make things worse. It was weird that Ash didn’t seem to see it that way.

“Well I think you’re an idiot.” Travis said, after a pregnant pause, and the insult clearly startled Ash a bit. “Why on God’s green earth are you comparing yourself to Larry fucking Johnson?”

“’Cus he’s better than me.” Ash spoke quietly and shrugged. Her voice was small, and she sat on the bench pulling into herself sheepishly, her face still cold and blank.

“No he’s not. He’s enabling this.” Travis gestured to the scene they were at right now, in front of the lake.

Ash blinked and turned her head to him, confused.

“Do you know why I’m here right now?” Travis asked, and Ashley shook her head. “I’m here right now, because I wanted to go and stare at the lake for a while, because Sal is with Larry instead of me.” He put his elbow on his knee and rested his chin in his hand, staring at the lake sternly. “It’s the third time this week he’s done this. I asked if he wanted to go to a movie tonight and he said no, that he’s going to be with Larry tonight, and what’s fucked up is I’m still not sure if I want to be mad at him for it or not.”

“Oh.” Ash said quietly.

“Yeah.” Travis replied. “So if he’s holding on to me with claws and teeth, then he’s fucking fused himself to Larry, and Larry would rather cut his hand off than say no to Sal. He’s Sal’s number one, always at his beck and call, he’d slit his own throat if Sal asked him to. I don’t even know if he’s aware of how attached they are or how fucked up it is, how fucked up they both are.”

“They both have mega abandonment issues.” Ash replied.

“Well their relationship is giving me abandonment issues.” Travis glared at the lake ahead, his lip sneering as another silence overtook them.

He’d been bottling this up for months, letting it stew and rot and ferment inside of him for entirely too long. He knew to an extent the hot mess that he was getting himself into with Sal, and for the most part he honestly didn’t have as much trouble dealing with it as he thought he would as long as he rolled with it, but this was the one thing that just kept hurting, over and over and over.

And Ash had probably been letting it bottle up for years, so he could only imagine what it must’ve felt like for her.

“You compare yourself to other people too much.” Travis said, breaking their quiet again. “Sal isn’t like this because you’re not special, or not good enough, or whatever, Sal is like this because he’s fucked up beyond our wildest imaginations. He doesn’t attach to other people the way everyone else does. There’s something that’s just, I don’t know, not right about the way he is with people. He’s friendly, he’s social, but… I don’t know.” He sighed. “Evidently, he wants to be around other people. He wants relationships, and friends, and other stuff. But somehow, Larry just takes priority over everything. I think he’s somewhat aware of it, but I don’t think he knows what it is or how to fix it either. I don’t know how much he wants to.”

The two of them continued staring straight ahead into the lake quietly.

“Sal needs help. Help that we can’t give. That’s not your fault, or even his.” Travis wasn’t sure if he was telling that to Ash or trying to remind himself of that fact.

“I guess you’re right.” Ash replied. “I just wish I realized that a bit sooner. Before I burnt myself out trying to help him and kind of ruining my relationship with him in the process.” She laughed a bit bitterly.

Travis leaned back in his spot on the bench, putting his hands on the back of his head as he stared at the night sky. “I don’t know what to do. We could push him to help, but it’s not like he’d listen. He fucking hates doctors, and Larry would probably take his side no matter what. I just don’t know what we could do about it right now. It’s so fucked, dude.” Now it was Travis’ turn to laugh bitterly, and Ash joined him.

They fell into another silence, but this time it didn’t feel as uncomfortable as before.

Ash was the one to break it this time. “Thanks.” She said. “For the talk. I-I know I get in my head sometimes, and I don’t talk to people about it. I needed it.”

“I should thank you too. I…” Travis sighed. “I don’t have friends to talk to about this, and I’m just some, fucking, stupid virgin who doesn’t know anything about anything. I know Sal is fucked up, but I don’t know. If I’m not careful, I might just keep letting him do it until I hate him. And I don’t wanna hate him.” His expression turned melancholy as he started tracing out constellations in his head.

“Well, from now on, you can talk to me.” Ash said, a small smile on her face. “Maybe we can figure something out together.”

He looked to Ash out of the corner of his eye, and gave a small smile back. “Yeah, maybe we can.”

Travis left his cell phone at his apartment, so he went home with Ashley’s number written on his hand with a sharpie she found in her pocket, and somehow, it felt like a missing piece he hadn’t noticed somehow shifted back into place. It felt good. Right.

His relationship with Sal probably wasn’t going to change any time soon, but it was nice to know that someone finally had his back about it.

[sudriantraveler]

Rheneas' Return

I’ve been thinking about Rheneas’ return to the Skarloey Railway after his overhaul, and there is a lot to talk about.

First of all, for those who don’t know or maybe just need a reminder, in the RWS Rheneas left the Skarloey Railway for a major overhaul in 1952, having just barely kept the railway running through its darkest hour as its sole working engine since Skarloey was sidelined in 1945.

He was then away from Sodor for 9 years, before finally returning home in 1961.

And he was probably in for a bit of a shock when he returned, because a lot happened in those 9 years.

First of all, the Skarloey Railway was in the middle of a crisis when Rheneas left. Only one engine is operable barely, the track is falling apart, revenue is low to non-existent, and about 90% of the work needed to keep things functioning day-to-day is being done by just two guys.

When Rheneas returns, it's like a completely new railway. Passengers are plentiful, there are new engines and coaches, the railways workforce has grown significantly, and the track actually feels good to run over instead of delivering a sensation of being repeatedly punched in the frames.

The thing is, Rheneas is still on some level probably going to be operating in crisis mode, because that’s all he’s known since about the beginning of the 1930s.

He insists on taking much more work than the other engines. Partly because he enjoy his work and is extremely happy to be home again, but mainly because he’s been having nightmares for the last few years about returning to nothing, and the fact that the railway still exists let alone that it’s actually thriving, is something which he’s having to constantly remind himself is not just a dream.

Then there’s all of the new stuff.

Before Rheneas left it was just him, Skarloey, the four old coaches and the one guard’s van, the numerous trucks, and a modestly sized workforce who Rheneas knew all of the names of. That was it since the railway began in 1865, the only exception being during WW2 when the war department briefly came in with a few of their own engines.

Now though, there are four new engines, several new coaches, and someone’s coming to light Rheneas’ fire in the morning who isn’t Mr. Hugh (keep in mind that in Rheneas' previous experience this usually meant the regular firelighter had either retired or died).

Also apparently the old slate quarry has been entirely taken over by the military and is now completely off limits, and there’s a big metal fence and a bunch of scary looking signs at the entrance, and frankly the whole situation up there just makes Rheneas feel really uneasy.

Needless to say, it takes something of an adjustment period for Rheneas to get used to everything.

I particularly want to talk about Rheneas early dynamic with the new engines, one in particular. You’ll know who when I get there.

To start with, Rheneas at least saw Sir Handel and Peter Sam before he left, so he at least knows they’re on the railway before he returns.

The thing is, his first impression of them was probably the same as Skarloey’s: Peter Sam is excitable and maybe a bit too overeager for his own good, and Sir Handel is bad tempered and takes his anger out on everything around him.

Rheneas probably breathed a sigh of relief when he saw they hadn’t burned the place down in his absence.

After Rheneas returns from overhaul he adjusts to the two former Mid Sodor engines well enough.

Sir Handel is still bad tempered, but he also still does his work regardless of how much he grumbles about it. Plus Peter Sam keeps insisting that Sir Handel does indeed mean well and is just having a hard time adjusting, and given the occasional details the two of them just casually drop about life on the Mid Sodor, Skarloey and Rheneas are inclined to give both of them plenty of time to adjust.

Peter Sam is still very energetic but Rheneas also sees that he’s clearly a hard worker, and the fact that the coaches adore him also helps to make him look pretty good in Rheneas’ eyes.

Rheneas immediately takes a liking to Rusty for much the same reason Skarloey did. They’re hardworking, kind, and their work repairing and maintaining the line makes them seem to the two old engines like an angel sent down by Lady herself.

I fully believe that after years of nothing but bent rails and rotted sleepers, running over an actually good permanent way for the first time after overhaul must have felt like a religious experience to Skarloey and Rheneas.

And then there’s Duncan.

Duncan, as he will happily admit himself, is a plain blunt engine who will rock and roll, and who speaks as he finds.

Sure, he means well, and he’ll pull just about anything… But Rheneas hears the story of him stopping on the viaduct, and is immediately wary of Duncan.

It doesn’t help that, having had the serious responsibility of being the only working engine on the line for an extended period of time, Rheneas has a bit of complex about doing everything himself and see’s anything that happens on the railway as, at least partially, his responsibility.

So Duncan just fully blowing off his responsibility to his passengers and stopping in the middle of the line, something which Rheneas did only once and very much against his best efforts, just feels like a personal insult to Rheneas.

It doesn’t quite register with him that Skarloey has already given Duncan the whole lecture on why that was stupid and how passengers are important.

And Duncan has improved since then. He acknowledges the importance of looking after his passengers and knows to at least keep his complaints out of earshot of them.

The thing is, Duncan is still a plain blunt engine, and passenger etiquette does not come naturally to him. But he’s trying, and quite frankly some of the passengers' complaints just seem ridiculous to him. So what if he rocks and rolls a bit? That's just how he is, and he still gets them to the station on time… usually.

But when Rheneas hears Duncan one night in the shed complaining about a particularly rough journey where there were significant delays and the passengers were really pushing his limits, Rheneas decides that Duncan still hasn’t learned their ways.

Rheneas may also be having a bit of a crisis of questioning just how much the railway still needs him with all of the new engines who are also there now. And what better way to reassure himself that he's still needed than to position himself as a mentor figure.

Duncan, for his part, does in fact respect Rheneas since Skarloey told him how he had saved the railway, and he wants to get along with the guy…

But that becomes increasingly difficult to do when Duncan keep having moments where he’s shunting the yard, minding his own business and doing a pretty alright job… and then he look towards the sheds and see Rheneas watching him like a hawk, looking for any sign that he’s about to mess up somehow.

And on the occasions that Duncan does mess up, however slight, Rheneas is very quick to give his input on what he did wrong and how the whole situation could have been avoided.

Skarloey may be stern, but he at least acknowledges that Duncan is trying his best, and gives him credit when he does well. He at least gives Duncan the respect of treating him like a capable engine.

So Duncan gets along fine with Skarloey… But Rheneas?

Respect him and his efforts to keep the railway running… Sure.

Actually get along with him… Not so much.

This pretty much sums up the dynamic between the two of them.

Until one day…

Duncan is taking the morning train, and one passenger in particular is just being a complete pain in the ass. It’s not just Duncan who’s fed up with him by the time they leave the station, this guy is getting on everyone’s nerves.

But Duncan puts forward his best effort, and maintains his professionalism.

But the guy keeps being a jerk throughout the entire run up the line. Anything goes slightly wrong, and he’s making his grievances known.

Duncan is glad when he doesn’t see him on the platform when he begins the journey back down the line, the man having decided to hike one of the various trails around Skarloey Lake.

When he gets back to Crovan’s Gate, Duncan immediately rolls off to the sheds and starts venting to whoever will listen about the angry passenger.

And right on cue, Rheneas begins his lecture.

Duncan, by this point, has been having a really bad day, and is quite frankly beyond his normal limits. So he just says “Alright then… You know how to deal with passengers, you take the afternoon train”.

So Rheneas does, and all goes well on the up journey. But then he finds Duncan’s passenger at the top station, who is apparently furious that Duncan’s train didn’t wait for him as he went wandering around the lake.

Rheneas tries to point out, very calmly, that there are schedules posted very clearly at every station building, but the man doesn’t listen.

Ok… This is fine.

Rheneas has dealt with his fair share of difficult passengers before, all of them with grace. He can handle this one.

But the journey back down the line doesn’t go smoothly, and all the while the angry passenger is becoming more and more unbearable.

And then, between Glennock and Cros-ny-Cuirn, Rheneas derails.

It wasn’t a particularly bad derailment, and it wasn’t his fault. Just a bad joint in the rails which Rusty and Mr Hugh hadn’t had the chance to fix on their last maintenance run, and which had been worsened by the last few times a train had run over it.

Naturally, the angry passenger is complaining more than ever now, and Rheneas is feeling rather defeated.

It’s Duncan who comes to rescue the train, and Rheneas is surprised but very grateful for the fact that he doesn’t say anything as Rheneas is leavered back onto the rails.

It’s a pretty speedy rerailing too.

Duncan is coupled on infront and the two engines double-head the train the rest of the way home. They get there with no further issues, and most of the passengers are just happy the derailment was sorted out quickly and efficiently, and that they were still able to catch the connecting train.

All except one.

The angry passenger is now just being insulting. Everyone is tired and unhappy, and now they still have to deal with him ranting about what a bad railway this is.

And then Duncan just snaps.

Rheneas never thought he would be happy to hear someone cursing out a passenger…

But Duncan’s tirade in Rheneas’, his own, and the railways defense, is just about the most cathartic thing he’s ever experienced.

Duncan only fully stops after the Thin Controller gets involved, denies the passenger a refund, and watches him storm off out of the station to catch a bus (he had spent so long arguing he had missed the connecting train).

After that, and with one final uttering of good riddance, the two engines shunt the coaches away and go to the sheds for a well deserved rest.

Rheneas see’s Duncan in a new light after that. He still often disagrees with his more grumpy and blunt approach, but he’s finally giving Duncan some space to make mistakes without needless criticism.

Rheneas still insists on the importance of passengers, and treats all of them with respect and high regard…

But he and Duncan have come to an agreement that some of them are just nuisances.

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Twenty-seven

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: fluff, angst, hurt-comfort

— WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir

I

Their return to Rome was made in colder weather and was a bit more weighed down with gifts and souvenirs and books they joked they ‘rescued’ from the French. They looked upon returning to work with a measure of dread although Tom enjoyed a certain nervous energy at the prospect of using the Polyjuice potion. He hadn’t used one since he needed to sneak into the Headmaster’s office in fifth year. She was sniffling a bit and coughing on the train but they put that down to how early they had to wake up that morning, running on no breakfast too. They bought a few things from a shop near the station, loading their already bursting luggage with cheese and sausages and a whole box of sweets. The croissants they saved for eating on the train and shared between them a baguette with butter.

It was Friday when they returned to Rome and there was nothing left for them to do but return to their own flats.

Tom wouldn’t get to see her again until Monday… It was strange after so many days spent with one person to be alone again, in a silence that felt hollow rather than peaceful, in a bed that remained cold all night. He didn’t miss her though… That couldn’t be. Although it did make him ask himself the uncomfortable question of how he’d feel once all of this was over and he went back to England all alone.

II

He saw her sooner than he thought he would. Something compelled him to pick up the phone and call her on Saturday afternoon when he was sure she’d had her fill of sleep. The voice that answered was, however, not her own.

“Hello?” Raspy, frayed, almost choked up and sore to even hear.

“Is that you?” Tom asked.

“Tom? Hi!”

He frowned, trying to imagine why she’d sound so different. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” she answered, a shifting sound making its way to him as she plopped down onto the armchair.

“You sound awful.”

“I am.”

He sighed and moved the receiver to his other ear. “What happened?”

“I might have caught a cold while travelling… How do you feel?”

“Good enough, I suppose.”

“That’s good,” she smiled.

“Do you have everything you need?”

“Oh yes, plenty of food, some aspirin… I’ll be alright in a few —” And there she cut off, moving away from the phone to cough into her elbow, but Tom heard it anyway. “— a few days.”

“Really?”

“I was overdue a cold, really. Haven’t had one in years.”

Tom hummed, displeased with everything that he was hearing. An urge itched beneath his skin, his feet and hands suddenly restless.

“I’ll come to you.”

“No! You might — might catch it too,” she said, her voice strained with the suppressed urge to cough again.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Tom, I m-mean it,” she said with a sniffle and a sigh. “If I’m not good on Monday, you’ll have to hold the fort.”

“Which is exactly why I want you to get better soon,” he said with a wry smile. “Now go back to bed. I’ll be there in a minute.”

He hung up before she could protest anymore and started packing a few things to take to her. He was sorry now that he hadn’t brought along a Pepperup Potion or bought one while they were in Paris. Tom rarely got sick himself so it hadn’t crossed his mind.

“Damn it, there’s nowhere to buy the ingredients from either… Maybe Mandrake root, but that’s hardly enough. Damn muggles,” he cursed as he rifled through his pantry.

It took a little while from when he knocked on her door until she answered. When he saw her he could tell why. Her sheepish smile, her tired eyes, her messy hair, and the fact that she was in her pyjamas told him she had been wallowing in bed.

“Hello,” she said with a strained voice.

Tom greeted her by bringing the back of his hand to her forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“I know that,” she mumbled and walked back inside.

Tom closed the door behind them and started taking his coat off. He moved on to the kitchen and put a kettle on with a low fire. His feet sounded up and down the creaky floorboards while he set everything up. She stood against the wall and watched him, her arms in a tight hug around herself, coughs bursting now and then unbidden and muffled by her elbow. She winced with every motion and although she tried to hide it even her back was bent as if it was a struggle to stand up.

“You should go back to bed,” he said, frowning at her.

“It’s nice to see you too. What are you doing?”

He turned again and started chopping something up, his eyebrow cocked at her stubbornness and curiosity. “I’m making tea,” he said evasively. “Now, go back to bed. Are you wearing socks, at least?”

“Yes, mother,” she grumbled.

He shot her a cold look over his shoulder and that finally sent her away.

“I have wine in the cupboard,” she shouted from bed, her voice breaking at the edges of each word. “Help yourself.”

“I think we’ve had enough wine in France, don’t you?”

She grumbled something that wasn’t quite a word but Tom looked for the wine anyway. It at least gave him some ideas…

None of what he had to work with was magic but it would have to do. The properties of plants that muggles had access to were not quite easy to extract without the proper spells or incantations while they grew and so their power was diminished. Still, there were a lot of things that he could do even with what she had lying around the house and what he’d bought at the little shop around the corner. He walked into the bedroom a while later, a full plate on his hands. She lay in bed curled up and reading, more sapless than he had seen her even after the most gruelling day of work.

“What’s that?” she asked as soon as she saw him, raising herself to a sitting position against the pillows.

“Have you eaten?” Tom asked instead of an answer.

She tried to speak but coughed instead, covering half her face with her sleeve and groaning all the while. From her frown, he could tell it hurt her.

“Muscle pains?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “Erm, I had an apple this morning. And two cups of tea.”

“Pathetic,” he mumbled, setting the plate down on her bedside table. “I’ve brought you buttered toast and in that mug is chicken soup with garlic and hot peppers. And here,” he continued, picking up another mug carefully by the handle and giving it to her, “is something that should help with that nasty cough. Breathe it in while it’s hot, then drink it.”

“What is it?”

“Careful, it’s scalding.”

She pulled her sleeves over her hands and took it. When she brought it to her face to give it a smell she immediately recoiled.

“It’s just something the nurses used to give us when we caught a cold during the war, at the orphanage,” said Tom as he turned around to stir the soup. “Rationing was pretty tough in England back then. Still is. People learned to make do with what they had.”

She seemed to believe him, watching him with wide eyes in silence. Beside the bed in an improvised bin made out of an old shoebox, he saw a pile of used tissues, and now that he paid attention her nose seemed a little red as well. He frowned, upset with her for being so fragile, and yet not feeling the burn of anger much at all.

“I found a way to slip into it a few special ingredients,” he said with a faint smile. “How is it?”

She breathed it in again and winced, tears beading at the corners of her eyes. “It feels like it goes right through me…”

“It’s hot wine with cloves, red pepper, ginger, and a bit of nutmeg.”

“Smells awful… Makes me dizzy.”

“Yes, well, I wager it’s better than a stuffy nose. You sound like a duck.”

He got up to go rifle through her drawers and came back with a towel. Without asking, he covered her head with it like a veil and pulled it over the mug as well, forcing her to breathe in its sharp fumes. She sighed but obeyed, inhaling the foul concoction that, in truth, had more ingredients than he admitted. He wasn’t sure she’d go through with drinking it if she knew, or at least she’d think him crazy, but he cared more about seeing her back on her feet and by his side. His hand went down to her back and he rubbed her gently, feeling her breathe in and out as he muttered the only soothing spell he knew.

He turned on the radio to fill the silence between them, knowing that she needed some distraction. He stopped searching when he heard an opera — The Magic Flute. Outside the sun was already setting, fading earlier each day. Tom looked out the window while she struggled with his brew, his gaze of cold disgust falling on the overflowing trash bins, the shits of stray animals drying on street corners, the vagrants ambling off toward the bar…

“Never thought I’d miss Paris,” he sneered.

She laughed from underneath the towel and in between coughing she rasped, “Want to go back?”

“Not until you’re better.”

He couldn’t criticise her much for her poor choices. He had much the same view on Knockturn Alley although there the streets were dark enough that he couldn’t see most of the horrors. Only smell them if he opened the window.

She drank as much of the hot wine as she could, complaining the whole time. Some of the ingredients got stuck between her teeth and she spent a good while picking them out and placing them beside the soggy toast. She got maybe halfway through it before it cooled too much to be effective. Tom sighed and yanked it from her, handing her the chicken soup that he was quick to heat again with a nonverbal spell.

“You can go home, you know,” she said in between coughs. “I don’t want you catching something.”

“I won’t, don’t worry.”

She eyed him suspiciously, disbelieving what he said, but Tom knew a common cold was not enough to take him down. Alas, he couldn’t explain that to her, just like he couldn’t explain why that concoction was so strong or why it was already working to clear her stuffy nose. A large part of his life would forever have to be closed shut to her and he could never even say so or be able to explain why.

“Sit down at least,” she said. “Eat something.”

So he sat beside her on the bed, legs hanging off the side and swinging unconsciously to the tune of the music on the radio.

“What will you do if I’m not well by — achoo — by Monday?” she asked. “You’ll have to inform Berit, you know? That I’m not there. My pay will have to be — cough — deducted.”

“I’ll work mostly upstairs,” Tom shrugged, chewing on a piece of toast. “I’ll phone the Baron’s office too. Don’t worry about them.”

“Ugh, the new university year just started. We get a lot of students around this time, mostly from the History department. Looking for old maps and such. You can expect a busy week.”

“We’ll have to be downstairs more often than not, though.”

“Oh yes, I almost forgot. That wretched auction…”

Tom opened his mouth to speak but another round of coughing caught her. She clutched her stomach again when she was done, her eyes closed shut in pain.

“You need sugar,” he said, “something sweet. It will help with the muscle soreness.”

“I have you, don’t I?” she smiled “You’re sweet enough.”

Tom scoffed. “Don’t count on it. And stop talking about work for once. I swear, it’s like you’re intent on making yourself sick.”

He shuffled uncomfortably on the bed. It wasn’t even seeing her so sick that made him feel strange, it was that he seemed to care more about her health than she did. She was silent for a moment, then frowned at him quite fiercely. Without even a word she handed him the soup back and turned over on her side.

Tom rolled his eyes. “Don’t get petulant now.”

“You’re so pushy and mean. I’ll be fine on my own. I don’t need your charity.”

“I only want to see you get better.”

“Oh, just take your mumbo jumbo and your medieval potions and go away, Tom.”

That hurt him more than he expected. To have his help rejected was one thing, but after all the trouble he’d gone through to find even those few ingredients, to put them together for her — which in truth was not much trouble, but it was more than he’d done for anybody else — all to have it thrown in his face as a “medieval potion”… Well, he shouldn’t have expected more from a mere muggle.

“Fine then. Be sick and on your own. I don’t care.”

She peeked over her shoulder at him as he got up from the bed. He could tell her eyes were red but he pretended to see none of it as he prepared to leave. He could hear her coughing, whining, and weakly call his name as he picked up everything he’d brought and left her flat.

III

Tom’s anger enveloped him like a shroud, trailing after him all the way home. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know how to care for a sick person… Wasn’t his fault he didn’t know how to care at all or had any better bedside manners other than what he’d seen at Wool’s. Forcing someone to drink some mysterious medicine was the normal way to deal with these things, wasn’t it? Still, she could have been a bit more grateful, a bit more… open-minded.

In truth, he realised, as he reached his dingy flat and could finally shut away the world outside, that her reaction — however justified by aches or fever — brought back his worst fears about her: that she could never accept him as a wizard, that she would be horrified, recoil, just as his father did when he learned his mother was a witch. That deep wound which started festering in his second year when he found out the truth was scraped back open by her words and now he could not close it. He hated her for a full day, distracting himself with measly research he cared too little about. On Sunday, he almost phoned her but found enough reasons not to — maybe she was still sick and stuck in bed, maybe she was mad at him, maybe he would just make things worse.

He wouldn’t see her again until Monday.

[matenrou-fan]

🪼 LES GO TIME FOR MY ROSHO SIMP ERA

so i rlly wanted a full version of the Headcanons of Rosho taking his s/o virginity, so can you write it possibly?? tysm Anya have a nice day!!!!!

Rosho taking his fem! s/o's virginity

thank you too!! have a good healthy lively day too!!!! <3

femreader, virgin! reader, nipple play, oral (receiving);; 1952 words;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

"..s/o..? What's wrong?"

Soft voice makes you wake up from your thoughts and you look around yourself again, a little bit nervous.

A whole candlelit dinner, made of your favorite meals just for you two in the darkness of his kitchen and this small, reassuring smile on the pale face of your boyfriend.. Rosho just knows how to make a romantic sensitive atmosphere that at the same time makes your hunched shoulders slumping and your mind empty from any worries, but also titillate you even more, as you can't help but feel a little tickle in your chest, wondering what would happen next. Are you so afraid or so excited?

"Nothing, I just.." - mumble under your nose doesn't sound that convincing, but he just chuckles, the light caress of his fingertips on your skin makes you look up at him.

"S/o, it's okay. Don't think about it too much, and don't hurry, even in your thoughts.." - his small chuckle makes the corners of your lips lift up too. Well, when your lover has such a gentle, loving expression on his face, it's hard to keep being nervous, as concentration on your mind with a bunch of vivid thoughts turns into concentration on butterflies in your stomach.

You smile back, moving your forearm further so the tiny velvety touch becomes more firm and intimate, as you just hold hands and look at each other across the table. Lit only by candles, Rosho's always calm yet with strict undertones face now looked even more charming, reflection of tiny lights in his red eyes make his gaze so sensitive.. Or maybe it was the effect of not candles but of true sincere love..?

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

As soft and sensitive as this gaze, his kisses and touches reflect the same care too. Is it just you or even his casual kisses, long but light, almost weightless, feel different right now?

With such a slow and careful start Rosho probably wanted to help you relax more, heating your body and mind gradually, without any rush, yet you get so impatient pretty quickly, grasping on his shoulders and mewling in his mouth.

"I told you, don't rush.." - he can't help but laugh a little, placing another kiss on your forehead. - "It's your first time, after all.. I have a whole night to show you all these pleasant things, alright?"

And despite his voice being so clear and hearty, you do hear some tremulous tone in it, and this smooth pink on his cheeks was more noticeable now. Nervousness kindled in the pit of his bosom as thoughts about him taking your first time were so emotional not only for you.

With a deep sigh he moved closer, pressing his lips to you again and trying to drown this tense in a more deep, long kiss. Rolls his tongue over and around your own, he gently slides his arms under your shirt, sending shivers down your spine. This was not the first time you got that far, toying with each other's bodies under clothes, but never it's felt like this. Every touch of his finger or palm feels like a small electric discharge that refers through your skin right to your core, making your legs cross.

Your hands moved from his shoulders to chest, then to his stomach as you lifted the hem of his home shirt too, wishing to give the same titillating sensation to your boyfriend. But touches from your side were more messy and sloppy, as trembles enveloped your whole body, and it started to get hard to breathe.

Noticing how quickly you melt underneath him, Rosho pulls away, letting you both catch breath. For a moment his gaze stopped on a silver thread of saliva between your mouth, then traveled to your beautiful face. Eyes are half-lidded, cheeks like two cherries and mouth slightly open.. Such a view sends a pulse in his dick yet he just bites his lips, controlling himself. There are still so many things he needs to do, to prepare you properly before mutual satisfaction.

"S/o.. If you suddenly felt that it's get uncomfortable, tell me immediately, okay?" - he leaned closer, reached down and brushed a small lock of your hair from sweaty forehead. - "Remember, I will not get mad or disappointed, no matter when you stop me.."

"O..okay.." - a small weak mumble was the only thing that you were capable of right now. The confusing mix of emptiness and overcrowding in your mind makes you forget all words, you can only rely on your feelings that also were a total mess of excitement, fear and anticipation.

Only after your agreement, Rosho grasp the fabric of your shirt and take it off completely. Your bra quickly was removed and thrown away too, revealing your chest that heaves with deep, unsteady breaths to the lustful gaze of your boyfriend. Only now you notice with what awe he looks at you, eyes keep wandering around your naked upper body.

"Mm.. You're like a goddess." - A low whisper escaped his lips when he leaned closer, placing a small kiss on your lips, then on your jaw and lower, lower, slowly drawing a wet line on your chest. - "It feels like I'm blessed with every touch to you."

Here he stopped to pay more attention. Licking and leaving more kisses on your cleavage, while his arms softly squeeze your boobs. Fingers carefully pinch your nipples just to hear a pleasant whimper and get more bold, playing with sensitive bundles of nerves. Another whine left your lips as your hips jut upwards, asking for some touches too. You can feel just how hot you're down here, clenching around nothing in your absolutely wet panties.

And of course Rosho quickly obeyed a silent beg, one hand running through your stomach to your thighs, pulling down your shorts. His fingers quickly soaked in your juices even through the silk fabric of the last piece of clothes on your body, your underwear. As he rubbed your pulsing folds, his lips moved to your areola, tickling your right nipple with small kisses and licks. Your hand finds its way to slicked back hair, grasping purple locks and messing up his whole hairstyle, a small wave of vibration humming through your chest as he groans from a tight pull on the back of his head. But it just makes your back arch, and Rosho smirks, continuing to tickle your skin with small mewls through his lips.

His thumb hooked onto the band of your panties before taking it off too, and you gasp, squirming from a sudden wave of embarrassment. Finally, all naked and open in front of your dear lover.. Rosho pulls away to admire a mesmerizing new view of his girlfriend, breath stuck in his throat. More magnificent than any masterpiece, he can look at your body for hours, enjoying it even without any touches. Yet you moan, and its small sound resonates in his throbbing dick and he leaned closer again, in a needy urge to devour your lips again.

"You're so beautiful, s/o.." - he whispered with a heavy breath. There's so many metaphors he can use to describe his feelings but nothing feels as deep and sincere as this simple word. - "My angel, my queen.. I want to give you all myself.."

His movements get more sloppy as he trails down again, this time lowering his head to the level of your hips. Gently spreading your trembling legs, he looks up at you again, wishing to see every emotion on your face at this moment, before leaving a first, small but luscious kiss on your throbbing clit. Your whole body jig, almost if you hiccup but your hips lifted up itself, moving further to his face. And nothing more is needed here for Rosho, as your sensitive reaction and small whimper was enough to start losing his control.

Pressing his face between your thighs, he gives more careful, tentative licks, still watching your face and listening to these small sounds breaking the silence. Taste of your sweetness was intoxicating, and slowly he got more passionate, slurping and sucking your folds. Fingers reassuringly stroking your inner thighs, increasing the strength of pulsing waves in your core, and you toss your head back, not able to control neither your body nor your voice. Overwhelmed by a feeling that hits you much stronger than you thought, you try to fumble his head just to grab his hair again in some kind of support. And if before it was hard to talk, as you only can produce inarticulate noises, now you can't stop calling the name of your boyfriend again and again, almost if you were lost, and wait for him to get you out of this labyrinth of pleasure. But Rosho is the one who pushes you here and will lure you even deeper, to the very end.

"R.. Rosho, please, i.. It's so good.." - not thinking straight, you keep mumbling whatever comes to your head. - "It's so.. I think i.. Ah.."

He reached out and touched your arm, supporting you through firm hand holding, as his mouth was kinda busy to respond you properly. Speeding up, he keeps abusing your clit before moving lower and pressing his tongue to your clenching entrance, stretching it out and thrusting inside. His free hand moved, taking a place on your clit and now rubbing against a tensed bundle of nerves.

These slick tickles in your hot walls shoot a shiver right to your mind, killing the last piece of sanity and turning you into a complete mess. Just a minute or two of rapid thrusts was enough to pull this burning ache from the depth of your core and your pussy spasm in blissful release. You gasp and stop breathing as everything just concentrates between your thighs, leaving your whole body and mind empty.

Rosho just keeps pushing his tongue further, prolonging your orgasm, eyes pierced at your drunk on pleasure face. To the very end, until your arched back hunches again as you fall into the bed with loud gasps, he helps you ride your bliss. Pulling away, he can't help but drop his gaze on your drenched cunt, that keeps slowly clenching, almost begging him to fill you up again but now with something more thicker. And cock in his pants start pulsing even more, waiting to finally be touched too.

Propped on one arm and impatiently unbuttoning his fly with the other, Rosho leans to you with a heavy breath. For a moment he wanted to ask if everything is alright and can he actually continue, but the way you quickly wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer, makes all thought fade away.

Slight push of his glans to your entrance makes you both groan, and slowly he sinks inside, peppering your face in small soothing kisses and mumbling sweet nothings in your ear, telling how well you're doing.

"You feel so good, s/o.. Feel so good.." - he mumbled, whining in your ear while giving you some time to get used to the fulfilling stretch of his dick inside you. - "I will be gentle.. Just tell me when to start, okay..?"

"I'm alright, so please, Rosho.." - a small sigh escapes through your clenched teeth and you slowly nod. - "Please, continue.."

"Of course, of course.." - holding your hips with one hand he hugs you with another, burying his fingers in locks on the back of your head. - "I.. ah, I'll make sure that it will be a memorable night for you, my love.. I love you.."

[halfmyth]

𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘞𝘈𝘕𝘛 𝘛𝘖 𝘋𝘐𝘌 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌. 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘼𝙇𝙒𝘼𝙔𝙎 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀.

(   evan mock  .  cis man  .  he/they  )       —       blasting  cool-doug, at night  by  sammy rae & the friends  down  main  street  we’ve  spotted  KIERAN “KIKI” AQUINO  sporting  their  pearl earring & pink buzzcut.  the  seventy-two (appears twenty-seven)  year  old  VAMPIRE  who’s  been  in  town  for  six years  often  can  be  seen  driving around town with rolled-down windows, crying during sad scenes in movies, trying new recipes,  or  working  as  an  SURGEON  at  PORTUM GENERAL.  people  say  they  display  good-humored  and  irreverent traits,  but  we  rather  trust  their  vibes:  the scent of salted ocean air, knowing that the sun is there even if you cannot see it, hearing someone whistle a song you forgot the name of, a dog running with a stick of dynamite between its teeth.  also,  we’ve  heard  they  love  SURFING, DISCO, & BIRDS !   aren’t  they  fascinating ?   

biography .

kieran is born in 1952 to two older parents who had, in their retirement, finally followed their dreams to move away from rigorous city living to a small coastal town in southern australia. his parents had all but given up on having children, and kieran's birth was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. kieran ( better known as “kiki” ) had a happy upbringing, awash with love. it soon became apparent that he was a surfing prodigy. by the age of ten, he was competing in national competitions, winning multiple junior titles in the late 60s & early 70s. he disappeared from the sport in his mid-twenties, something that was seen as a shame but not too deeply investigated. most attributed his early retirement to an injury he sustained during a competition ( or out of it ). in reality, he fell in love with a merman @highertides. after realizing that his boyfriend was indeed immortal, not one to be outdone by fate, kiki went and got himself turned into a vampire. voluntarily. ah, young love.

extras .

has been in a committed relationship with his husband ( rui aquino ) for the last fifty years !!

while not entirely reckless, he's not opposed to taking risks. he doesn't often let his thoughts spiral, instead choosing to act first and deal with the consequences.

athletic & active ! still surfs at the crack of dawn and has probably run marathons before.

gets along with kids — maybe because he still is one at heart. lies to them about how old he is and where he is from. there are kids running around portum who think he’s a 500 year old vampire pirate.

was a part of melbourne's counterculture in the 70's.

on that note. lies for fun !! but it’s rarely malicious. very lame sense of humor. finds himself funny.

owns two caiques: razor and scooter. owns some pet fish as well.

this isn’t his first time in portum. he also briefly lived in town sometime in the 80’s(?), but left after a bit. probably to travel.

being a surgeon isn’t his first career path. only the truly bizarre and immortal would find med school to be a side quest, but that’s what being a surgeon is for him. it’s something he enjoys and finds interesting.

more tba !!

wanted connections .

SIRE . he would have been turned ~45 years ago (in 1979). not looking for anything super weighty or angsty here. while i’m more than open to a past negative relationship, maybe they have a mutual understanding now and kiki is more or less just an annoyance. or, maybe their relationship has more or less been positive for the past few decades, and your muse felt that it was refreshing that someone wanted the bite for a “pure” reason as opposed to wealth or power. — taken by seyfi mocan .

IMPRINT . people he’s taken under his wing !! i was mainly thinking younger vampires, but it could be other supernaturals. we could work out the particulars, but i feel like he’s the type to accumulate strays 😭

A LONG WAY BACK . long-term connections and/or people he’s met outside of portum !!

GROWING PAINS . a mentor/guide of sorts; someone older than kiki (90+) who's been someone he has confided in throughout the years. while kiki did consider the ramifications of being 27 forever, it's one thing to think you'll know what it's like and another to actually be faced with the reality of outliving friends, family, and the culture you grew up in. — taken by calahan macarthy .

+ super willing to brainstorm !!

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 21st December

I was just saying we got no Christmas songs this year, and look what happened. Better late than never, I guess? Though, with Christmas songs like this, maybe best not to count your chickens before they hatch...

Poetry in Motion - Johnny Tillotson (peaked at Number 1)

Before we get to the Christmas novelties, though, this. The first thing I thought, honestly, was that wow, this is some pure rock and roll sleaziness. The whole thing's just a shot of concentrated thirst, after all, as Johnny sings about how when I see my baby / What do I see? I don't know, Johnny, what do you see? Poetry in motion, apparently. You see, her lovely locomotion / Keeps my eyes open wide. She's like poetry, see her gentle sway / A wave out on the ocean / Could never move that way. Translation? He's watching her butt as she walks, and damn, that girl's butt is fine.

That said, there is something pretty wholesome to it, in a way you don't always see in more modern songs - it's not just about Johnny ogling his girlfriend, you know? He's trying, in his own way, to affirm her, you get the sense, hence the lines about how there's nothing I would change, and how she doesn't need improvement / She's much too nice to rearrange . You could imagine that she maybe has some self-image issues, but Johnny loves her just as she is, and is keen to tell her - along with the rest of the world! And even if that's not the backstory you're meant to read into this, there's also something pretty cute in the lines about how much he loves to see her dancing - not because she's hot, this time, but because she's dancing alongside him, a flower of devotion / For all the world to see.

And on top of some genuinely cute lyrics, just the most 1950s / early 1960s accompaniment, lots of whoah-oh-oh-oh doo-wop touches, some lovely, lazy saxophone accompaniment, rifle-sharp drumming and of course, that hammering piano beat. The players, here, are some top-level talent, too, with Boots Randolph on sax and Floyd Cramer on piano. I've not gone too far into looking at session musicians, in the rest of this project, but both of them are names I've seen on other tracks, and Floyd Cramer's about to hit the charts in his own right. Them - and the bass player, one Floyd Chance - are rightly seen as legends in the industry, and part of the so-called "Nashville A-Team", a loose grouping of players who appeared accompanying everyone from Elvis to Bob Dylan. They typically came from a country music background, but as you can hear here, they ended up playing all sorts of stuff, including a lot of huge rock and roll and rockabilly tracks, and they really make this track. Not that Johnny doesn't have a clean-cut charm of his own, either, but there's just a lot going on here, beyond just what he's bringing - and it's all pretty great, so kudos to the producers and audio engineers, I guess?'

Lonely Pup (In a Christmas Shop) - Adam Faith (4)

Meanwhile, what to do with this? I feel like the obvious point of comparison is Tommy Steele's Little White Bull, from the previous year, as a cute, Christmassy bit of fluff. Except at least that song had the dubious honour of coming from a film. This one, as far as I can see, didn't - somebody just thought that hey, we could sell a song about a dog in a pet shop at Christmas, waiting for an owner. And clearly it worked, because this got to Number 4, but still. It feels flimsy, emotionally manipulative and just kind of twee.

The other obvious point of comparison, 1952's How Much Is That Doggie in the Window?, at least had the thing going on where the singer's man is going away, and she wants a pet who can keep him safe, in a fun flip of the typical gender-roles. This, meanwhile, is a "please buy a dog" song at its most "route A", in its most basic, uninteresting form. I mean, soft brown eyes that seem to say, / Stay a while, I want to play? Lines asking Mister Santa, if you would / Send him someone, oh so good? Lines straight out telling the listener, pity him, he's got no pop? Urgh. I've already told you, I'm not buying a dog!

Musically, it's definitely Adam Faith, lots of strummy guitar and background strings. We've added some jingling sounds and xylophone, to make it more Christmassy, though, and we've oomphed the strings up to almost Mantovani levels of drippy excess. Plus, there's the children's choir. Because of course there's a children's choir. There are very few songs that actually benefit from the addition of a children's choir (off the top of my head, I can only think of One More Brick in the Wall) and this is no exception to the rule. Not wholly unlistenable, but definitely not something I'm going to be seeking out. Apparently all this was orchestrated and managed by John Barry, of all people, who I really thought would have more taste, but there you go. Merry Christmas, I guess.

And thus 1960 rolls to an end, with a song that sounds, to my ears, very 1950s. This isn't a huge shock, as it usually does take a while for a decade to "find its feet", as it were. It'd be weirder if the 1960s arrived fully formed, honestly - especially when so many of the artists involved, especially session musicians, stayed the same. The names on the singles change, sure, but at the end of the day, half these songs feature the same 20 or 30 people on most of the instruments you're hearing - and the other half are trying to sound like the first half, with avrying degrees of success. Or they're singing about lonely dogs in a Christmas shop. You know, as you do.

Favourite song of the bunch: Poetry in Motion

[project1939]

100+ Films of 1952

Film number 113: Models, Inc. 

Release date: May 19th, 1952. 

Studio: Mutual, distributed by Universal 

Genre: noir 

Director: Reginald Le Borg 

Producer: Bernard W. Burton, Hal E. Chester 

Actors: Howard Duff, Colleen Gray, John Howard 

Plot Summary: A beautiful young con-artist enrolls in a modeling school to seduce its wealthy owner, but when her old boyfriend gets out of prison, he has a scheme of his own. Can she really keep her criminal past away from her new rich husband? 

My Rating (out of 5 stars): ***½  

OK, this one was fun! For a lower budget noir, this is about as good as it can get. The acting was above par, the story was interesting, and we were blessed with amazing cheesy dialogue and a thrilling ending. It’s far from a towering achievement in film, but it’s hella entertaining. I’m definitely watching it again. (Some minor spoilers) 

The Good: 

Rusty, the con-woman at the center of everything. Both her character and the actress who played her were perfect for this kind of film. First of all, Rusty is a great name for a shady woman in a noir! She’s basically morally bankrupt, but it sure is fun to watch her. 

Howard Duff as Lennie the ex who has been part of Rusty’s crimes. He recently impressed me in Steel Town, where he left me wishing he had gotten the girl in the end. Here he plays a bad guy with strength and aplomb. You love to hate him. 

John Howard was effective as John Stafford, the millionaire in the modeling industry who succumbs to Rusty’s charms. 

This was a classic sleazy crime-ridden noir in all the best ways, 

A terrifically cheesy romance montage- as Rusty and John begin dating we see them go to a horse race, then an art museum, then a classical music concert, and finally a shopping scene where John lets her pick out lots of expensive clothes. 

One of my favorite things about noirs is their tendency to have odd everyday characters randomly appear for comic relief or suspenseful delays. This one had a great scene near the end with a man in a bank and a slow customer ahead of Rusty as she's trying to flee. 

The details about the modeling school classes were a treat to watch. (Go to the bottom of this post for the details!)

The ending was Perfect! 

During a climactic shootout in an alley, we get glimpses of ads papered to the walls. As a character dodges bullets, a sign right next to him has a pouring teapot and reads, “Time for Tea,” which killed me. 

There was so much great hilariously “noir” tough-talkin' dialogue. Like- “You can’t blow into town, promise me a job modeling your crummy lingerie, and after a fast pitch slough it off as a sweet dream.” Also, “That’s right, Lennie, neither of us has changed very much. Oh, a better suit or a dress maybe, but in here where it really counts, we’re still the same kids, looking for shortcuts to the rainbow.” 

The Bad: 

There was maybe a bit too much vagueness of what actually went on with the photo taking racket Lennie starts. I know censors at the time couldn’t outright say prostitution was involved, but... 

How could John Stafford, a man who made a fortune creating models, be so stupid as to fall in love with Rusty? Her intentions seemed fairly transparent. I know love can blind a person, but you’d think he'd been around the block enough to figure it out. 

During a police car chase scene, you could clearly see that no one in either car was wearing a seatbelt. Afterall, seatbelts wouldn’t be mandatory for fourteen years! (The resources I could find said it was 1966.) It sent me into a mini-panic just watching it! 

------As a silly bonus, here’s the schedule on the chalkboard at the Stafford Modeling School: 

9:30-10:30 Poise and Personality 

10:30-10:45 Exercise 

10:45-11:30 Hairstyling 

11:30-12:45 Posture 

12:45-2:00 Makeup 

2:00-2:45 Modeling Stance 

So there’s 15 minutes of exercise, but 75 minutes for posture? 

[whumpster-fire]

Oh my god so much good stuff in this thread!

I'm sure they were consulted. If any of them had been like "oh God nnooooo :( fr" I think it would have been respected. The messed-up parts are: a) How likely are one of the engines to ever say that? Their combined boss/parental figure, the guy who has the power of life and death over them, is like "Ahhhh, Percy! I would like you to appear in the next installment of the railway's publicity tie-in series. I am sure you'll be a big hit. I've scheduled a long afternoon break for you on Tuesday to talk to the Thin Clergyman." How likely are you to do anything but be flattered and oblige?

My preferred headcanon for this is that is, or was... quite a bit of negotiation among the engines themselves on what stories could be included in the series. At least on the NWR. Sometimes one engine's cool moment they wanted to have put in the series was an embarrassing or difficult moment for another, and there might be an exchange like "okay, fine, I'll let him use the story about how I was boasting about knowing the line by instinct and then you got to take the express, but only if you let him explain the Bootlaces." Although some engines couldn't be reached for comment and/or had their names or numbers omitted to protect the guilty.

(Bonus fucked-up-ness when you consider the Skarloey Railway getting in on this gravy train, coz they're desperate. In 1952 they were throwin' a Hail Mary that their two new engines would save everything. Actually in that case I expect they had already been talking with The Author and had decided that the new engines were gonna be part of their first book before they'd even bought them. And how could they say no? Their new home NEEDED that sweet, sweet tourism boost that the North-Western had enjoyed since the series began. So yeah. Like many influencer kids, it's not that I think they were dragged into this kicking and screaming. It's just that they can't give meaningful consent.)

I mean, it's straight-up canon that Sir Handel was dragged into the TV special kicking and screaming, so yeah I think the SR was not nearly as respectful of the engines' dignity. Which probably primarily affected Sir Handel and Duncan since Skarloey's embarrassing stories were from literally a hundred years ago and he didn't give a fuck, and Rheneas and Rusty didn't really have any dirty laundry aired.

With the CF, I actually wouldn't be surprised if the engines had more stories they wouldn't object to telling on personal grounds but either don't want put in a book because it's bad PR or management doesn't. Because like DemonOfNowhere said, they run such a tight ship there (because Godred 100% left a massive scar on their institutional safety culture), and... well, the NWR stories feature plenty of "passenger service disrupted by dumbassery" stories, but the stories where human life was at risk are almost all freight trains. I think A Close Shave and Thomas Goes Fishing might be the only stories where passengers' lives are at risk (I guess maybe Percy getting stuck on the main line counts too), even though this is a decent-sized railway that's been running regular service for decades so there statistically were probably at least a couple other close calls on passenger trains. "Hey, remember the time where dozens of people were almost killed and a major tragedy was only prevented by the quick thinking of a couple people/engines?" is not great PR, and the Culdee Fell is a passenger-only tourist line which is safety obsessed by necessity. Management is probably extremely conscious of the risk of the public thinking the railway is unsafe or unprofessionally run, so the only stories they'd let be published would be either low-stakes shed drama or "someone almost did something dangerous but the mistake was very quickly caught and procedures were followed" nothingburgers that weren't particularly exciting to tell kids about.

And Sudrians ≠ English, so throw in the usual xenophobia and classism. The public is not gonna be any more normal about all this.

Oof oh my god yes. I can only imagine misinformed mainlanders thinking the books validate their stereotypes about "silly islander bumpkins with their backwards railway that's run like a circus" (often completely missing the books not so subtly calling the mainland out on nearly running the national rail network into the ground)

also, and this is secondary. almost a sidenote. but let's be real for a sec: the framing device for RWS makes the "look at this dumbass engine getting his comeuppance" so much more fucked up

because you have these beings who are literally property, see? and they can't depict their own experience, it's filtered through a human author, a one-time employee of their railway who publishes all these stories about them with the fat controller's aid and permission

and the stories are nearly all "here's this schmuck on one of the worst days of their life and/or making one of their worst ever decisions. we're going to publish them so they can be read by the whole world. the Daily Mail-reading public can comment. i see no problems here."

i mean it's delicious. it's hilarious. but it is fucked up.

topham hatt, #influencer parent

[outerbankspreferences]

Caught Pt. 2 - JJ Maybanks

Caught Pt. 2 – JJ Maybanks

Word Count: 1952

MASTERLIST

JJ’s movements stop at the sound of his full name. No one used his full name. JJ looked back down at her. “I thought you said he wasn’t getting home until tonight.” He spoke while pulling at of her causing you hiss at the over stimulation. “I thought he wasn’t, he said he had to work and then he was going to Sarah’s.” Y/N spoke trying to find your underwear JJ had thrown across the room, “where did you throw my underwear?” She whispered as if they weren’t already caught. JJ tossed her a new pair out of her dresser along with some shirts and his t shirt.

Once the two of them were dressed JJ reached for the door knob. “Now or never” he chuckled to small girl behind him. What he couldn’t see was the anxiety rushing through her. Nether had ever talked about what it was they were doing. Nether confirming whether they were together or not. They had been hooking up for a couple of months now but that was it ever was. It her Y/N every time he came over, would sleep with her and then just leave. She would never tell JJ but it always made her feel worthless, like she was nothing more then the tourons he would normally hook up with.

 What she didn’t know was that JJ was head over heels in love with her. When the two of them started hooking up, he stopped meeting up with tourons. he didn’t realize he was in love with her until after their first time. For her to trust him that much meant something to him. When the two of them were together everything was different. It was like he could finally something good in his life. He wanted to keep this to himself for the fear that she might slip away form him if everyone knew.

 The two of them walk out of her room and down the hallways. The floor boards creaking beneath the weight of their feet. The floor had been making the same sound earlier, expect the young couple were eager for what awaited them then, not so much now. Y/N was practicing her speech repeatedly in her head. She could feel the anxiety bubbling in her chest and she went to grab JJ’s hand for comfort to find him already reaching out for hers.

 The two made it into the kitchen to find John B taking a very large shot of whiskey before glaring at the both of them. He scowled at them holding hands, and Y/N could already tell he wasn’t taking this very well. She was the first to break the ice, speaking in calm voice, “we never meant for you to find out this way.” John B just raised his hand to cut her off, looking over at who he thought was his best friend. Now he was questioning it, John B trust JJ with his life, and especially his little sister, never did he think he would cross this line. “How could you do this?” He asked the blonde, “I’m sorry, but I love your sister John B.” JJ spoke up and you gasped.

 Nether of you had said those three words in the 3 months you’d been hooking up, and you had wondered if JJ was feeling the way you had. JJ took another deep breath before speaking again, “I know in my head that it’s wrong. She’s your little sister and I’ve known her since she was a little girl, but she makes me feel things I don’t always understand, but they’re good things JB. When I see her happy and smiling, she makes my day just a bit better. When she says something stupid and then starts to laugh, I realize that I want to hear that laugh everyday. And it’s killing me because she’s your sister man, I didn’t mean for it to be her, but it is and I can’t say that I’m sorry about the way I feel.” JJ pleaded with the brunette, hoping he could hear the truth in his words.

 The two men looked between each other almost having and internal conversation that Y/N had to witness. John B was trying to see everything with reason, but Y/N noticed how red his face was getting, she was also keeping an eye out for the tell tale signs of his hidden anger. She squeezed JJ’s hand to acknowledge she heard every word he said, silently encouraging him to continue.

 He was about to speak again when John B’s fist connected to his face causing JJ to let go of Y/N hand and stumble back words cursing. “John B!” Y/N exclaimed rushing over to JJ, “are you crazy” She hollered at him. JJ pushed her out of the way before taking a swing at John B, pushing him into the wall. Before she knew it the two boys were fighting on the floor. At one point JJ was on top landing a punch to John B., and John B. would tackle him down to the ground. She had seen the two boys fight before, but nothing like this before.

 She was lucky that Pope and Kie had decided to stop by and could hear the yelling from the driveway. Pope moved Y/N out of the way, and pried JJ from John B’s death grip, “hey-hey, let go man! What the hell is going on here?” He shouted at them, and all three of you shared the same look. She stood in between the two boys, John B was fuming his face red and contoured to anger. JJ looked like he was on high alert, not sure if his friend was going to take another swing at him. “Oh yeah JJ, go a head. Tell them how I just caught you sleeping with my sister.” John B spoke in a matter of fact tone, and then stomped out the door slamming it behind. The loud bang made Y/N flinch and heart drop to the bottom of the floor. “You what?” Kie was the first to speak but she wasn’t surprised. She and Sarah had their supposition about the two of you.

 She pushed past Kie to follow John B outside ignoring the protest from their friends to give him some space. “John B wait. Just let me ex-.” She tried to speak before he cut you off. “There’s nothing to explain Y/N! I know what I saw.” He hollered at the younger girl. JJ was coming up behind him. “She’s not ready for this and you know that. You are not going to break her like you do every other girl on this island. She might tell you that it wont bother her, but it will. When you break her heart, you will break her.” John B yelled at JJ.

 It was like the two boys were talking about something else. Y/N really didn’t understand what John B was saying but JJ knew. John B had confided in him multiple times about how losing your dad had hurt you. How not having a mother hurt you, and how he was scared that when you found love, that it might not be requited and he wanted to keep you from that hurt. It was a big reason JJ started hanging out with the younger girl more. He wanted to help his friend keep an eye on you and at first he thought it was because he loved her like a sister but he soon discovered that wasn’t what was going on. He fell in love with her like a lover, there wasn’t a time he didn’t want to be around her. “I’m not going to hurt her. Not because she’s your sister but because I love her. I don’t know what I would do without her man. She makes everything so much better and I’m not really sure why. Maybe it’s because she’s always so calm, or maybe she’s got a great sense of humor, hell man I don’t know. I do know when I try and think about how much I love her it scares me. It scares the living shit out of me that one day she might leave. So maybe your worried about her, but I don’t think you need to worry about your sister man, I think you need to worry about me. Because if she leaves me John B. I know I won’t survive without her.” He took a deep breath looking at his friend.

 All five people were silent. Everyone taking in the words that JJ just spoke. It was one of the few times JJ had an outburst of emotion like that, and the first time he’s ever had that kind of emotion towards a girl. “I’m sorry that it was your sister man, but I’m not sorry about the way I feel about her.” JJ almost whispered like he didn’t want anyone to know what he was saying. Y/N could have sworn her heart dropped at hearing those words. She always loved JJ, and just assumed that it was a puppy love crush, she would move on sooner or later, but she never did. Y/N kept looking between the two boys, waiting for one of them to speak. “I don’t need your permission JB. Don’t let this get between our friendship.” The younger girl spoke up.

 John B thought over all his options. His sister was right, this could potentially ruin not only his friendship with JJ but his relationship with his younger sister. He had noticed the change in her behaviour lately. She wasn’t always moping around the house depressed and sad like normal. She had a little of her normal lovable attitude back thanks to JJ. “Okay but no more sleeping in the same bed. And no PDA, I don’t want to see you macking on my little sister.” Both Y/N and JJ let out a breath of relief looking at each other. Both you and JJ giggled to each other already excited to break John B’s rules.

 JJ motioned for you to follow him to the end of the dock were things were a bit more private. The two of you walked awkwardly together slightly bumping shoulders. You both sat on the rale of the dock looking into the water not speaking to each other. “I meant what I said Y/N.” JJ spoke but you didn’t look over. JJ admired the way you looked in the sunset. The colors compliment your skin tone that was just starting to tan in the spring heat. The way your hair moved in the breeze that had picked up. “I know.” The young girl spoke and JJ started to panic. Maybe she didn’t feel the same way for him as he did for her. Maybe he just completely embarrassed himself in front of their friends for feelings that she might not even have.

 “I love you too JJ. I always have. I thought you were just with me for the sex.” She spoke, and JJ cringed at the reputation he had. JJ took her hands in his and she looked at him, “never once was this ever just ‘sex’. I fell for you so hard, and I don’t think I want to see you with anyone else.” He spoke in a serious tone. He moved a little closer to her, putting his hands under her chin to lift her face towards his. Their faces were inches apart when Y/N closed her eyes waiting for the kiss to come, “John B. said no PDA.” JJ whispered to her. “Oh to hell with John B.” She spoke pulling him in for a deep kiss.

TAGLIST:

@drewstarkeysbitchh @lemur46 @jjmaybankzz @taylathornton

[annaofthenorthernlights]

Tell us a little, please, about Puppetier AU idea :}

Hi my dear! Thanks for asking. Well, tbh there does not yet exist a file for that one, though the idea unfolds in my mind and rests there till I get the time to sit down to conclude it.

This yet title-less fic is based on the movie "Lili" from 1952 with Mel Ferrer and Leslie Carron. I have watched it up and down as a child and the idea struck my mind some time ago, and since that, the yet untitled kristanna-fic lingeres in my head.

For those, who know the movie, it is easy to get the connections. Basically, Kristoff is a pupeteer on a wandering fairground (mind, it´s the 50´s). He is a former acrobat, but due to a severe leg injury has turned his back to public entertainment in person. He hides behind his four puppets and makes people happy with their charming performances. One day, an orphan girl of already 17 years appears on the fairground and will be employed first by the magician Hans. She serves drinks and food during his show. But she is a bit clumsy, though madly in love with the magician who shamelessly flirts with her. Anna finds out that he played with her and desperate with no idea of where to go, she thinks it better to leave. Only her way to do so is rather tragic. Little does she know that somebody had secretly been watching her...

But then, for your curiosity, I drabbled down one of the essential moments, that when Anna meets first with the one puppet who will become her best friends...

Hope you enjoy...

_______________

„Hey! Hey, you!“

Anna had nearly come to the top of the vertical ladder, dangerously high she now realized but after all, that had been the purpose. She heard a voice from below, and she briefly stopped climbing the steep ladder, and then heard it again, more desperate this time.

“Yes, you, up there! Hey! Please, don´t go up so high. You could fall.”

Anna now understood there was somebody calling for her, and she dared to turn her head, though the height now made her almost dizzy. She clung to the bars and dared glancing down. But there was nobody. But yes, there was, somebody was waving fervently. But it was not a person, it was a… little snowman. And he looked up to her and yelled.

“Yes, you! Hey, please come down to me.”

“Why should I do that?” Anna almost cried, because now she was confused.

“I am so lonely down here, and I bet you are lonely up there, too?!”

“I am used to that. So please, leave me be.”

“No! I don´t like being alone. I like company. Please, could you not come down and spend some time with me? Pleeeeease?”

Anna now felt sorry for the little snowman. Maybe he was truly lonely and leaving him sad was not fine. And when he was down there, watching her, she could impossibly proceed…

Slowly, Anna started climbing down from her high position and with each step, for some reason, she felt relief. Maybe this was better so. Once down, she turned and stepped closer to the snowman, who was as tall as her lower arm´s length, and he sat on something like a little house with velvet red curtains, and on the canopy, there were other figures painted. Him, the snowman, a lovely girl with blond hair and blue dress, a reindeer, and a big rocky fellow. Were those his friends? The snowman spoke again, and he sounded like a child.

“Oh, thank you. How nice that you came down to me. I feel so much better now.”

“Oh, I am glad.” Anna stood with her hands clasped to her chest. She had never seen such a cute figure, with his red carrot nose and little stick arms. She like him.

“Let´s start over again. Hi, I am Olaf, and you are?”

“Oh, I am Anna.”

“Nice to meet you, Anna. Say, what were you doing up that dangerous ladder?”

Anna briefly glanced up to her insane idea and then turned back to the snowman. “Nothing.”

“Good, because I got scared, you know.”

“I am sorry.”

“Never do that again. Please, promise me!”

Anna laughed now. How concerned that sweet fellow was. “I promise.” And deep inside she felt like she had just met a true friend.

[et-lesailes]

iron crush

pairing: tony stark x reader

word count: 1952

summary: you’re a college student as well as roommates/best friends with peter parker, but you’ve developed a bit of a crush on his world famous, superhero mentor tony stark.

themes: age gap, smut

taglist: @evanstush​​​, @tanyam93​​​, @bval-1​​​, @wonderwinchester​​​, @patzammit​​​, @rohaintahquil​​​, @deidrashouseofpain​​​, @sammyslonglostshoe​​​, @jadedhillon​​​, @bohemian-barbie​​, @whysparker​​​, @sebastian-i-stan​​​, @sebabestianstan101​​​, @lille-kattunge​​​, @teller258316​​​, @peach-acid​​​, @allsortsofinterests​​​, @xoxabs88xox​​​, @heyiamthatbitch​​​, @cptn-sgrogers​​​, @heyyouwiththeassbutt​​​, @bangtan-serendipity​​​, @troublermalik​​​, @beardburnsupersoldiers​​​, @bookish-shristi​​​, @kind-sober-fullydressed​​​,  @gingerninjaprincess16​​​, @straightforwardly​​,  @denisemarieangelina​​​,  @frencchfries​​​, @xlanawriter​​​, @littlemoistcarrot​​​, @pottxrwolff​​​, @arianatheangelworld​​​​, @southerngracela​​​, @nsfwsebbie​​​, @rororo06​​​, @savemesteeb​​​​, @raveviolet​​​​, @hurricanerinwrites​​​​, @captainamerica-is-bae​​​​, @shaddixlife​​​​, @tessa-bl​​​​, @marvelouspottering​​​​, @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc​​​​, @thegetawaywriter​​​​, @dwights-new-plague​​​​, @rynabarnesrogers​​​​, @fckdeusername​​​​,  @doloreschanal​​​​, @ssworldofsw​​​​, @la-cey​​​, @buckybarnesplumwhore​​​, @hevans-angel​​, @chuckbass-love​​, @stardust-galaxies​​, @smyfmj​​

notes: in this story, peter and reader are 18! I know the opening scene is literally from civil war where peter is a minor in high school but shhh just pretend :))) also sorry if you’re tagged and don’t care for tony, i haven’t really been separating my permanent taglist and my cevans only taglist because it’s a lot of work gjfjdjg so just ignore if you don’t want to read, no worries! also as always, graphic creds go to @thewritingdoll​ !

You first met him that fateful day he was waiting for Peter in his apartment itself, casually chatting with Aunt May while pretending to enjoy her walnut date loaves. Being Peter’s childhood friend, you’ve known of his Spider-Man secret ever since he became the masked hero, and it hadn’t been difficult for you to figure out that Tony was there for Avengers related reasons. You remember the piercing eye contact you made, the way his brown eyes lingered over you in surprise and approval; you had felt flattered beyond belief that you were even noticed in such a way when you were in the same room as Peter’s abnormally attractive aunt. 

Fast forward a few months later, and you, Peter, and your other friend Ned now have an apartment of your own. The three of you have always been inseparable; you see them as brothers and you can trust them to have your back, just like you and Ned have Peter’s whenever he’s called to save the neighborhood (and, lately, many areas outside of it).

You’re on your belly on your bed in a tank and shorts, taking notes while skimming through your psychology textbook when you hear a knock on the door. You roll your eyes- Ned always forgets his keys, which is why you tend to leave the door unlocked whenever it’s just you at home. It’s difficult to worry much about crime when you literally live with a world famous superhero. “It’s open!” you call, eyes still scanning the words on the pages before you. The door opens and you hear footsteps, louder and louder until they’ve come to your doorway. “Have you just, permanently lost your keys or something?” you ask in amusement, not even bothering to look up at your roommate.

“Didn’t get any to begin with, actually. Got a copy for me? Would be pretty helpful considering the kid never answers his goddamn phone.”

Your head immediately snaps up, your eyes widening slightly as you stare at the grown man at the entrance of your bedroom who is very clearly not Ned. “Tony!” you exclaim in surprise, moving to sit up on your knees as you gaze up at him somewhat embarrassed- and suddenly feeling much more naked. You’re comfortable with limited clothing around Peter and Ned, you’ve known them practically your whole life- but Tony is someone you’ve seen all over television, only met once… and have the slightest crush on. You’ve always loved a man with confidence, and while Tony has too much of it, you can’t help but find it appealing. You clear your throat, trying not to blush from his amused expression. “Uh, yeah, Peter’s not home right now… do you want me to text him? Maybe he’ll reply to me?”

“What? Reply to his cute best friend he drools over on a daily basis- over replying to me? No way.” Tony smirks slightly, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and you find yourself blushing deeper- though you arch an eyebrow, more than happy to confront what he’s just said. “Cute?” you repeat, and he shrugs nonchalantly, leaning against the doorframe as he takes your appearance in. “Yeah. Cute. What, haven’t heard it before? Because I highly doubt that.” 

“Not from a man twice my age, no,” you tease, suddenly feeling a little more confidence as you sit up a little straighter, remaining on your knees, “and Peter does not drool over me. Trust me, our relationship is not like that. We’ve known each other for too long.” Tony keeps his eyes on you for a few moments before suddenly nodding towards your textbook. “Whatchya working on?” You blink, glancing towards your notes. “Psychology. It’s my major.”

“So how do you read me?” he asks, and you assume he’s being some type of smart ass- after all, whenever you tell someone your major is psychology they immediately bring out the “so you can read my mind” joke- but when you look up at his expression, he actually seems genuinely curious. “Lonely.” You reply candidly, eyebrow lifting slightly. “Bored, always running out of things to do so you focus way too much on work.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s because I save the world for a living. Kind of has to be on my mind 24/7, doesn’t it?”

“Yikes, getting a little defensive, hm, Tony?” you tease with a smirk, knowing he can handle it. “That’s never a good sign in counseling…”

“Oh, are you my counselor now?” he scoffs, but the corner of his lip is tugged slightly upward, clearly able to banter just as much as you. “Alright. I’ll bite.” He comes into your room and sits down at the edge of your bed right next to you, looking at you expectantly. “Tell me, O Mighty Therapist, what should I do to alleviate my pain?” he questions dramatically, and you laugh, reaching out to nudge him. “Maybe stop being a pain in the ass to other people? Let them in for once?”

He listens thoughtfully and you're expecting a snarky comment, but instead, he replies bluntly in a low murmur with a raised brow, “What if I want a certain someone to let me in?” It takes you a few moments to realize the innuendo, your blush immediately returning once you do. “Tony…”

He leans in, his eyes focused on yours. “I won’t tell anyone…” You stare up at his features, your breath slightly heavier. You feel a bit of guilt but the desperate want is overpowering it- come on, he’s Tony Stark, and he’s here in your bedroom asking you to fuck. Maybe it’s not for the best reasons, but you decide you don’t care. You grab his face and pull him down, kissing him fiercely in response.

Everything happens so fast. His lips move against yours in intense synchrony, his hands grabbing your waist to tackle you down onto your back on the bed before he reaches out to shove your textbook and notebook off the mattress entirely. You gasp but continue to kiss him, your legs naturally moving to wrap around his waist to keep his body pressed close against yours, already feeling turned on from the friction between you. Judging by the bulge currently pressing against your inner thigh, it’s safe to say he feels the same. 

Neither of you even realize how absorbed in this kiss you are- you’re moving, practically rolling all over the place, until you roll off the bed itself. A squeal escapes your lips as both of you go tumbling onto the ground- thankfully carpeted- and you laugh breathlessly as you stare up at him, still underneath him. “Oops,” you whisper, but he just smirks and leans down to kiss you again, muttering huskily against your lips, “That’s alright, sweet cheeks, I can fuck you just as good on the floor too.” Your smile fades slightly, but only because of how aroused you’ve become just from hearing him. You’ve only ever slept with one guy before, and he was nowhere near as experienced or bold as Tony. You definitely needed this. 

He notices your expression and smirks, staring down at you as he moves one hand down to rub his fingers against your shorts. “What’s up, Y/N? You like that idea? Me fucking you into the floor of your bedroom, with your door wide open?” Your lips open into a needy moan, though you completely forgot about the door situation. Fuck. You glance to it nervously, but he only applies more pressure to your clothed entrance, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re adorable, sweetheart. Think of it as a little adrenaline rush, hm? You have to take some risks sometimes, right?” He slips his fingers into your shorts and panties, rubbing your clit directly as he breathes out, “That’s my therapeutic advice to you…”

“A-ah…! Tony!” you moan lewdly, arching your back and staring up at him with wide eyes. “Please… I need more…”

He gladly obliges, his smirk growing wider as he eyes you hungrily. His fingers pump you skillfully, sliding in and out of your entrance and stretching you out, his thumb simultaneously teasing your clit. You’re a breathless mess of whimpers and whines, your head rolling back and your eyes shutting from the pleasure. The boy you were with before definitely didn’t know how to use his fingers. Tony, on the other hand, moves at the perfect, steady pace, actually listening to you to understand what you like and what’s working. The way he slightly crooks his fingers and expertly maneuvers them in subtle but hard hitting gestures inside your tight entrance is slowly making you uncoil- when he feels you tighten around his digits, he grins triumphantly. “Go ahead,” he commands breathlessly, “cum all over my fingers so I can taste you already…” 

You obey with a gasp, coating his fingers with your release- he withdraws them and places them in his mouth, looking at you with a hungry little smirk. “Delicious,” he growls, his devious eyes filled with lust. 

“Take off your clothes,” you breathe out suddenly, and he blinks before chuckling, pulling back slightly and obediently starting to unbutton his shirt. “For the record, I’m the one in charge here, but I also wanted to strip anyways,” he tells you playfully and you laugh, taking your own tank off feeling thankful you didn’t wear a bra that day. That would have been way too much work- you need him now. He stares down at you amazed, biting on his lip. “Damn. Your body is something else.” You widen your eyes upon seeing his cock when he removes his pants, clucking your tongue as you mumble, “I could say the same about you…”

He smirks and presses his throbbing erection against your sensitive entrance, his breaths heavy from anticipation. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, doll. Think I’m already addicted to you.” 

He thrusts into you roughly at that moment, letting out a groan of pleasure as he pins you down against the floor. You cry out in happiness as you arch your back towards him, rocking your hips upwards against his and holding onto his back tightly. You don’t even care that you’re on a rug right now- comfort is the least of your concerns when he’s stretching you out so nicely, his brown eyes filled with hunger as he stares down at you in arousal. “You look so pretty underneath me, Y/N,” he murmurs huskily, grunting with eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his dick entering deeper and deeper inside you with each thrust. “And you feel… mm… better than words can even describe…”

“Tony…! Oh, God, Tony- mm…!” You’re at a loss for words; the sensation is overwhelming, pushing you over the edge, filling every crevice of your mind with euphoria and delight. Your body’s beginning to quiver, your walls tightening around his cock- he smirks weakly in satisfaction, knowing you’re close. “Fuck. I’m gonna cum deep inside you, beautiful, I want you to cum for me… God… damn…” 

Just as promised, he releases inside you, the feeling adding to your pleasure- you gasp in delight as you cum, your head rolling back and your eyes wide as you stare up at the ceiling. He lays on top of you for a bit before slowly lifting himself off, looking down at you with his signature smirk. 

Before he can say anything, though, a voice belonging to a certain web-slinging eighteen-year-old boy standing at the doorway with a wide open mouth screams:

“What the fuck?!”

[xvictorian-flowerx]

JonaEri week 2022 Day 5: Adversity

(( I was planning to post it on Ao3 but I discovered you have to be invited and the queue is at least two week :,) So in the meanwhile I’m going to post it here))

Context: Phantom fates is a Au of mine created based on @vampire-joestar​ vampire Jonathan Au. As they promised to a vampire Jonathan transformed by Dio, Erina and Speedwagon lived their long human lives at the side of their beloved Jojo. But as they grew old to a venerable age, it was clear that Erina and Speedwagon would inevitably die in a close future, leaving Jojo alone. They knew Jonathan would still have Joseph and his family but they too would die eventually. Not wishing for Jonathan to go trough that cycle of grief alone, Erina goes to Speedwagon with the idea to use one of the remaining stone masks to turn themselves into vampires. They were supposed to transforms at the same time after Speedwagon finish dealing with stuff at the SPW foundation but Erina felt death coming soon and had to transforms in 1950. (Speed transforms in 1952). During the mid 1980's, Erina and Jonathan where blessed with their second child, Giorno Edward Joestar. Despite them being vampires, Giorno was born human. Giorno was born with his papa blue hair but it started to turn blond as Jonathan developed a stand. But as Dio came back, so came the Stand curse. Both Giorno and Holly were terribly inflicted by it. Jonathan went with the crusaders, Erina stayed in japan with her medical team to take care of Holly and Giorno and Speedwagon went back to his foundation to help monitor the crusaders.

The house was silent, the few occupants having gone to sleep. Everyone but Erina. Being a vampire, she did not need to sleep, although it was something she regularly indulges in to give her a semblance of humanity. The bedroom she was in was only lit up by a single night lamp, giving an orange hue to the room. More medical equipment had been brought for Giorno and Holly as their condition continued to worsen. Erina raised her eyes from the medical book she was reading and looked at her son and great granddaughter with a pained expression. It had been weeks now since the curse had inflicted them and Jonathan and the others left to find Dio. Their body and spirit had been resilient so far but they were starting to become more and more ill. Erina took Giorno tiny hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“ Just hang out a little bit more Sunshine, papa and the others are going to make things right and you will be all better. He will not take you, not you too…”

A tear rolled down Erina's cheek. She was fully aware that Giorno had not for long and would most likely die before Holy did. Perhaps it was due to him being a young child, maybe it was because he got sick before Holly or maybe it was due to the fact that he was a more direct descendant to Jonathan than Holy. All that Erina knew was that her little boy was about to die and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing a second child to Dio. Suddenly the phone in the room started to ring. The vampire quickly picked up the phone, not wishing the ringing to wake up anybody in the house. Who was calling in the middle of the night anyway?

“You have reached the Kujo residence. The family is absent for the moment, may I take your message”

“Oh Granny it’s you! I was expecting Suzi to answer.” Came Joseph 's voice from the phone.

“Joseph! I am relieved to hear from you! Suzi has been asleep for a moment I’m afraid. Do you want me to wake her up?” Erina asked.

“Right, the time zones, I forgot about them. No need to wake her up, just tell her me and the others are alright. We just arrived in Egypt and we will start traveling north to Cairo shortly. If everything goes right we should be there by the end of the day. How is Holy and Giorno fairing?”

“Not good I am afraid. We had to put Holly on a ventilator two days ago and her fever has gotten higher. Her heartbeat is stable but a bit slow, nothing alarming for the moment however. We are keeping a close eye on it.”

“And what about Giorno?”

“…”

“Granny?”

“Joseph… Could you pass me to your grandfather if he is with you? I need to talk to him about Giorno”

“Of course.”

Erina heard Joseph call Jonathan name and some shuffling before her husband picked up the phone.

“Hello dear, you wanted to talk to me?” Came Jonathan 's voice.

Hearing his voice brought comfort to Erina, she had not heard of him in weeks, only hearing about the progress from Robert as the Speedwagon foundation was monitoring the crusaders. Erina wished she could be at their side to help, but she knew Giorno and Holly needed her. Beside, there was only one super Aja stone and Jonathan was using it to be protected from the sun.

“Yes… I need to talk to you about Giorno state and I do not bring good news…”

“Go on…”

Erina looked at Giorno. The beeping of the heart rate monitor would be annoying to someone but for Erina it was comforting, a reminder that the child was still clinging to life. He looked so tiny and frail under all the medical equipment that helped him stay alive. It pained Erina to no end to see her son like this. Gods, she could already feel the tears forming her eyes before she even started to explain the situation to Jonathan.

“Giorno… Giorno is not going to last for long. His fever has reached dangerous levels and even with the ventilator he struggles to breath. Jonathan, yesterday he… he flatlined…”

“H-he what? Is he-?”

“We brought him back!” Exclaimed the woman, interrupting him before he could finish his sentence. “Giorno is still alive but…”

The vampire broke down into a sob as she recalled the event of yesterday.

“It took everything to reanimate him! I really thought we were going to lose him! If that wasn’t of Emily’s quick thinking he would have…I was not even at his side when his heart stopped. I was in the garden and if it weren’t for the fact I’m a vampire, I would have never have heard the monitor alarm! Thank god she was there! I would have never forgiven myself if he had died!”

“Erina…”

“He won’t survive if his heart stops a second time. It’s painful seeing him closer to death’s door every day. I can’t bear losing a child, not a second time!”

Jonathan was unable to speak a word as he listened to his wife's heart wrenching sobs. There were so many things he wanted to say but the feeling of guilt and failure were like two hands over his mouth, keeping him from speaking. Last night's dream was still haunting him. A child version of George was asking why he abandoned him to die and why he was doing the same to his little brother. The scene quickly had changed for George and Giorno laying dead at Dio's feet who was sitting on a throne, taunting Jonathan; “How many members of your family will I be able to kill before you finish me off for good hmm~? Oh but let us not fool ourselves, I WILL have the time to kill every last one of them because you are too weak to finish me! I will rise from ashes again and again and you will continue to carry your shame for eternity!”

The worst part is, he was right. Dio would never stop targeting his family. All because he had been careless during the Windknight battle and Dio escaped, robbing him of his humanity at the same time.

“I…I made a decision” Erina said with a shaky voice. “I know you will disagree with it so I will not go through if you do not approve of it, but it might save Giorno if the worst were to happen.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“If…” Erina hesitated “If Giorno were to flatline again and before it is too late, I will use my healing blood on him. He will most likely become a vampire because of this. I know vampirism is something that you would never wish on anyone, it was different for Robert and me as it was our own choice, but I am running out of options to save him. I am aware it will not be his decision and it will be forced on him like it was for you. If he grows up hating me for turning him into a vampire then so be it. I prefer to have a child that will hate me than a dead child.”

“…”

“Jonathan?”

“I never wished for Giorno to become a vampire. I wanted him to live a fulfilling human life and enjoy every moment of it, but I agree. I can’t bear the thought of losing him as well. If it comes to that, we will be there to guide him to this new life.”

“I plan on doing the same to Holy, but I will not take this decision. Joseph, Suzi Q and Jotaro will be the one to decide. Suzi Q needs time to think about it. Can you talk about this to Joseph and Jotaro?”

“Of course, but Erina?”

“Yes dear?” She replied.

“We are almost there, they will be saved and soon they will get better. Please trust us”

“You know I already do Jojo” Erina said, a fond smile forming on her lips.

_____

Bonus drawing of the Phantom Fates family being happy before the stand curse to recover from the sad 🥺.

[doomonfilm]

Ranking : Gus Van Sant (1952-present)

I was somewhat familiar with Gus Van Sant prior into taking the deep dive through his catalog, but he was certainly a man that I thought I had a handle on.  I knew he had more than a few amazing films under his belt, but the recent years had not been kind to him (see the shot taken at him in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back).  I knew that he was from the Pacific Northwest (Oregon specifically), and his coming of age in an area that embraces weirdos and outsiders had an impact on him as a human and as a creator.  I knew that films like Milk and Good Will Hunting had taken Van Sant to the highest heights, while the collective panning of films like Psycho and Last Days served as valleys in a career full of glorious peaks.

What I came to discover, however, was a man with genuine creative integrity, and lots of it.  I found a director who understood his characters and actors on a human level, and shared them with viewers in ways that helped rich connections develop.  I saw a director who was not afraid to make those that society often considers outcasts the  emotionally rich and important centers of his narratives.  I watched Gus Van Sant present, explore, develop and refine his style over deeply independent and infamously studio-driven projects, giving all experiences as much care and attention as he was able.  I saw films I was familiar with find placement behind films I was new to, I discovered that his recent creative years have not been as kind to him as the first two-thirds of his career, and I can see that there still may be a bit of a smolder left in his creative fire.  

Ranking directors is a labor of love, but by no means do I consider myself the definitive professional on film canon.  I enjoyed all of the Gus Van Sant films I watched on some level, and as always, for those brave enough to interact, I’d be curious to see where you would make adjustments to the list.  But enough introduction talk, let’s get into what you folks came for!

17. Restless (2011) There are things about Restless that I want to love without judgement.  First and foremost, Mia Wasikowska is an absolute treasure who shines in this performance from the earlier portion of her career.  The portrayal of Hiroshi is one of the more subtle, substanced and interesting ways of using a ghost within the film framework.  As minor a thing as it may be to the casual moviegoer, some of this film’s technical aspects are astounding, specifically the costuming and the lighting choices.  Where the film distracts me, and therefore drops in these rankings, is where it takes the YA approach to the romantic drama, with a healthy dose of manic pixie dream girl energy thrown in for good measure.  When it comes to displaying romance on-screen, be it teenage or otherwise, there are no expectations, even for a director with a distinct style.  Where my issues arise are in the way that death is handled in this film… while I do understand that not every film has to be a distinct statement for a director (especially a film written by another individual), Gus Van Sant had already established a very mature approach to the subject of death, and the way that death and the manic pixie dream girl aspects are intertwined feels more on the amateur side than I am comfortable with for a Gus Van Sant film.  Maybe giving the impossibly troubled young man a muse with an expiration date as his way to find the best version of himself is a stroke of genius that provides a gateway for deep commentary on the concept of the manic pixie dream girl, but the film is so approachable and not the type to bare teeth (be it satirically or otherwise) that I doubt there is any subtext to its intention.  For that reason, this film finds itself on the bottom half of the Van Sant canon.

16. Don't Worry, He Won't Get Far on Foot (2018) After the critical and box office disappointment that was The Sea of Trees, director Gus Van Sant had quite the hill to climb with his next film, and with his adaptation of Don’t Worry, He Won’t Get Far on Foot, it seemed he was able to right those respective ships.  Strangely, the film failed to connect with me, and as far as I can tell, it seems to be the victim of an “all sizzle, no steak” scenario.  The film is certainly a showcase of a very diverse cast, and based on both the flashback-based and group therapy approach to the story, there are a wealth of opportunities to create memorable moments.  Unfortunately, and perhaps due to an oversight on my end, I failed to find enough substance during my viewing of the film to prop up the parade of moments.  What it felt like I was left with, sadly, was a Simple Jack-level approach to conveying a paraplegic-centered story, which undercut the fact that the film is actually telling the true story of cartoonist, artist and musician John Callahan.  That’s not to say that the film doesn’t have it’s positive aspects, such as the John Callahan illustrations and the animated versions of his work, but those positive aspects feel sparse in comparison to how much the film relishes in what feels like Oscar bait.  If nothing else, see this film for Jonah Hill, because it took me much longer than it should have to recognize him, partly due to his impressive weight loss and partly due to how dedicated he is to achieving the film’s period look.

15. The Sea of Trees (2015) Death is no stranger in the films of Gus Van Sant, but I don’t feel that it would be bold to state The Sea of Trees deals with death in the most direct manner.  For those that subscribe to grief having stages, this film accounts for all of them in some way, shape or form during the course of the narrative as we watch Arthur Brennan fall apart and rediscover himself in the wake of losing Joan Brennan, his wife.  Placing the film in Aokigahara (aka the "Japanese suicide forest") not only gives the film a sense of natural beauty, but a foreboding sense of dread and despair as well.  The core cast is as strong as any found in a Van Sant film, with Matthew McConaughey, Ken Watanabe and Naomi Watts all turning in solid performances.  Sadly, the film falters in one very core aspect : sympathy for the protagonist.  I found myself feeling very bad for Joan Brennan as I watched her arc, and despite knowing nothing about Watanabe’s character portrayal of Takumi Nakamura, I found myself sympathetic to him based solely on what he was emoting.  Arthur Brennan, however, is interesting in all the wrong ways… he is extremely cold and purposefully flat when introduced, the moments we share with the Brennans only seem to show Arthur finding joy at the expense of Joan’s pride, his view of the loss of his wife (and his world view in general) seem to be extremely self-centered, and when he does show heroic attributes they are rooted solely in self-preservation.  Perhaps if Van Sant had not already made such eloquent reflections on death via The Death Trilogy and Paranoid Park, The Sea of Trees could have been seen in a different light, but when you set such a high bar for your work, returning to stereotypical storytelling can feel flat and uninspired.

14. Last Days (2005) Last Days is a film with a weird energy and aura surrounding it… in some ways, it feels like the most performative film not only of the Death Trilogy, but out of the entire Gus Van Sant catalog.  At the risk of using too negative an adjective, it also feels the most exploitive, though neither of these observations are necessarily meant to be a knock against the film.  The Death Trilogy could not help but be exploitive at its root, as each film was inspired by an infamous death event, and with Michael Pitt’s Blake meant to be an avatar for Kurt Cobain, it would be simple to take the film at face value for some sort of glamourized and idealized fictional retelling of his tragic final moments, not to mention a few stylistic nods to iconic Cobain-related imagery.  What that viewer would be missing, in my opinion, is a film looking to make some familiar points on outsider culture (specifically alternative rock and roll counterculture and addict culture) minus all the glamour and shine.  While Blake’s house is grand, it’s decrepit and in a state of disrepair… despite it being isolated, expected and unexpected guests arrive constantly, not to mention an intrusive ringing phone that connects Blake to outworld obligations… Blake has a number of people living with him, but he almost never interacts with them.  Michael Pitt is done up to look so similar to Kurt Cobain that much of the narrative background is implied, and what we are left with is the Death Trilogy style implemented and fused onto a loose leaf narrative with just enough structure to let the supporting actors have isolated memorable moments while we watch Pitt’s Blake decay in the ways that many of us Cobain fans ruminated on in the wake of his sudden and tragic death at the height of his tortured popularity.

13. Gerry (2002) At the risk of sounding cliché, Gerry may be the most fascinating film in Gus Van Sant’s canon.  It marks a clear and definitive break in convention from a director that seemingly never cared too much for convention anyway.  Multiple aspects of this film make it extremely unique : both characters referring to one another by the same name (though Gerry eventually evolves into an all-purpose non-specific descriptor), a seemingly absent narrative, a shared goal between the characters literally referred to as “the thing” in order to purposely keep viewers in the dark and, perhaps most importantly, a deliberately methodical pacing that pushes even seasoned film lovers to the limits of their patience.  The film is beautiful, and that is a fact that cannot be denied… the painterly shot compositions of our characters in the isolated desert, the unfathomably long tracking shots that pull us deeper off the beaten path and the sonic stillness (due to a largely absent score that is replaced with the sounds of nature) either commit you fully to the experiment or come off as massively pretentious.  To view the film through that secondary lens, however, is to miss the point of it all.  Once it is understood that Gerry marked the entry point for Gus Van Sant’s Death Trilogy, you began to realize that Van Sant, in tandem with Matt Damon and Casey Affleck, are giving us an understanding of how we should view the trilogy, and how open-minded we should be in processing what is given to us, like some early high-concept version of what Quentin Dupieux would later go on to master in a more abstract manner.

12. Mala Noche (1985) It’s fitting that this was a feature-length debut from a driven and working director, as it has a very distinct look and feel to it that immediately lets you know you’re dealing with an innate storyteller and someone who has spent time observing the human condition.  In terms of visual and narrative balance, Gus Van Sant utilizes what feels like a mix of John Cassavetes and Jack Kerouac, respectively.  Van Sant’s use of titles in the film is striking, specifically in terms of the handwritten opening credits and the Dr. Pepper ad copy used to subtitle the Spanish language dialogue.  Focusing so heavily on immigration and homosexuality in 1985 is a bold choice, especially as neither group had yet to benefit (even if only minimally) from the onset of politically correct culture policing.  While the film was more than likely shot in black and white due to budgetary constraints, the infusion of somewhat modern elements (for the time) gives it a youthful and forward-thinking energy.  Having a film of this nature lean so heavily on multilingual and multicultural elements is refreshing, and even more impactful when examined under the boorish and (at times) tone deaf application that humanizes these elements.  For all of these aspects of the film, however, when examined at the pure narrative foundation, what we find is a story about how love can blind us from the reality we inhabit, and how we often choose to ignore the obvious when romance and romanticism enters the picture.

11. Psycho (1998) Of all the films in the Van Sant catalog, perhaps the bravest, boldest and most baffling entry is his nearly shot for shot remake of the iconic Alfred Hitchcock thriller and cinematic game changer Psycho.  Remakes were certainly not a new or unheard of practice at the time of the Van Sant Psycho release, but most directors opt to put significant twists or updates into their retelling of most remakes, and most films chosen do not hold the lofty stature and position that Psycho does when it comes to remakes.  Van Sant’s approach not only made viewers keenly aware of just how direct the homage was, but in some places, modern touches were added in very subtle ways to make the movie more palatable for modern audiences, including more salacious references to sexuality, sound design choices in both the diegetic and symbolic realm, and even an update or two to iconic scenes meant to make us much more uneasy with the Vince Vaughn portrayal of Norman Bates.  The actors cast were all famous and respected enough to keep the film’s timeless feeling in-tact, even if the remake could be taken as its own weird and warped project.  Personally, I’ve always loved this remake, and taken it as an experiment on the highest commercial level, and a signal to all that Van Sant (at the time) was done with the traditional approach to filmmaking and concepting.

10. Paranoid Park (2007) While many movies centered around skateboarding spend their time and design budget trying to make the outsider nature of the practice look “cool”, Paranoid Park spends its time making sure that the isolation, deep focus and rebellious attitude that come with skateboarding were more authentic than they were appealing.  High school is already a very taxing and polarizing section of juvenile development, and based on your perception at the time, the weight that the world unloads on you can feel wholly unbearable.  Perhaps this is what makes Paranoid Park such a tense film… that natural teenage angst is already imprinted into the film (and amplified due to the casting of relative unknowns), but Gus Van Sant’s signature use of alternative film stocks, obscure soundtrack and expressive, layered sound design but you square in Alex’s head from the opening moments.  As the narrative unfolds, we realize that Alex is not only dealing with standard-issue teen stress, but has unwillingly found himself involved in the type of events that change an individual’s world.  This film plays well as the first film post-Death Trilogy, as it deals with the gravity of mortality head-on much like the aforementioned three films, but does so from an adaptive stance rather than one based on true events.  If you’re a fan of skater flicks, movies with strong teen acting, or little-known Gus Van Sant gems, then Paranoid Park is a gem waiting for discovery.

9. Finding Forrester (2000) Gus Van Sant has always had a way with stories that dive below the surface of the human experience and condition, so it makes sense that his attempt at a New York-based movie about people living in “the hood” would cover an array of topics with masterful subtlety, specifically the topics of race relations, generational gaps and the blurry line between education and exploitation.  The casting on this film is extremely strong… then newcomer Rob Brown gives a riveting and dynamic lead performance, it’d be harder to cast a more perfect curmudgeon than Sean Connery, and appearances by F. Murray Abraham, Anna Paquin, Busta Rhymes and a Matt Damon cameo all stand out.  Speaking of Damon, Finding Forrester shares a similar energy to Good Will Hunting, but the proximity of release ultimately held Finding Forrester from finding its proper audience (no pun intended).  I wish I had more to say about this film outside of my personal feelings and connections to the story (which I will save for a dedicated deep dive in the future), but Finding Forrester is one of those films that has no trouble speaking for itself.

8. Promised Land (2012) As of the point that this blog post was created, this film stands as the last of the great Van Sant creations.  There is something about the Gus Van Sant approach to filmmaking that works best with “salt of the Earth” types, and with Promised Land being centered around the practice of fracking, much of that down-home nature is immediately baked into the story.  Speaking of the story, the film was co-written by the characters who ended up being the protagonist and antagonist of the picture, respectfully, which created an electric main dynamic that served as the spine for many other strong dynamics present in the film.  In terms of the cinematography, much of Van Sant’s bold approaches and stylistic shifts are absent, save for a few beautiful bird’s eye view perspective shots that give you a real idea of what rural America looks like.  Van Sant is no stranger to stacked casts, but he gets some truly top notch names to take part in this affair, and true to the clout behind these names, the performances are as stellar as they are believable and natural.  The film also touched a nerve with the actual oil industry due to some of its comments on fracking, despite it not having the reach or success of other Van Sant films.  While possibly an indicator that Van Sant would be making a stylistic shift, Promised Land still manages to capture what makes Van Sant his best self in terms of not only presenting real people, but topical and important situations.

7. Milk (2008) Gus Van Sant is clearly no stranger to having representation for the gay community in his films, so it makes sense that one of the hallmark films in his canon would center around gay rights activist and politician Harvey Milk.  Much like JFK crystalized Oliver Stone, or Spike Lee was raised to another echelon by Malcolm X, Van Sant found a second round of Academy Award-level validation via this biopic while solidifying himself as a creative who could go back and forth effortlessly between big budget studio films and independent projects.  With Sean Penn giving one of his signature chameleon-like performances and leading the pack, this Van Sant production is filled with tons of burgeoning talent who have since gone on to make names for themselves in the industry, including the likes of Emile Hirsch, Diego Luna, James Franco, Alison Pill and others, plus a standout performance from Josh Brolin (who also depicted George W. Bush in the same year for the aforementioned Stone).  While it may not be the most technically marveling film of Van Sant’s career, it is clearly one of his most important, and the way that it handles the messages it intends to share is as confident as it is even-keeled, which is important for a film that could have easily become a soapbox for espousing personal beliefs and political agendas.

6. Even Cowgirls Get the Blues (1993) This Gus Van Sant adaptation of the famed author Tom Robbins novel shares the same creative energy of films like Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Natural Born Killers, Harold and Maude and so on in the sense that it is a very expressive film with a very specific idea it is looking to present.  Where the aforementioned films explored ideas of free love taken to the extreme, the toxicity of media, love without judgement and so on (respectively), Even Cowgirls Get the Blues puts femininity and identity outside of the male gaze squarely in its crosshairs.  Uma Thurman takes on the role of Sissy with wide-eyed zeal, floating through a series of hitchhiker-based adventures until her reluctant visit to the Rubber Road Ranch helps her find the missing piece of her puzzle.  Seeing a bizarre, star-studded tale of a woman finding her agency sounds like it would work on the surface, but from what I could find, the film failed to make a connection with audiences and is considered a commercial and critical failure (which is probably why it was the toughest film to track down on this list).  That being said, I’m a sucker for films that catch a bad rap, especially when the combination of such a unique director and visionary author are the foundation of it, because it makes me curious about why I find connection where others did not… who knows, maybe it was those extremely distracting rubber thumbs (the only real knock I can make on the film), or maybe the Tom Robbins style is tough to transfer from page to screen, but for my money’s worth, I can see the vision.

5. My Own Private Idaho (1991) Somewhere within the intersection of films like Midnight Cowboy and Fight Club lies My Own Private Idaho, an extremely personal and nuanced film that covers many topics with depth and an ease that comes with wisdom and experience.  For example, when it comes to views on identity, we get two rich narratives that could easily both be their own film : Mike (portrayed by River Phoenix) is going through a crisis of identity based on a sordid history with his mother and absentee father that makes his search for love transform into a life of hustling as a way to find momentary intimacy; meanwhile, Keanu Reeves (who plays Scott) is an entitled young man awaiting an inheritance that decides to spend the time until it happens “slumming” with those many would consider the outcasts of society, much like the “tourists” spoken of by Edward Norton’s narrator in Fight Club.  The struggle with masculinity in the face of homosexuality is all over this film, from its multiple male on male connections to the very toxic manner that the core group interacts with one another, when they are not grieving or putting their livelihood in danger via petty crimes.  In terms of Van Sant style, the film is one of his most innovative (outside of the film holding the top spot) in terms of looks, with its unique range of colorful title cards, the pinhole vision that Mike uses on his road, or even the standout magazine rack sequence.  The film is also a perfect follow-up to Drugstore Cowboy, and could easily double feature with it to this day.  As someone not wholly familiar with Shakespeare’s Henry plays, I did not catch that My Own Private Idaho was an adaptation, so I will not only have to revisit it with that familiarity in tow, but  I will have to take a look into James Franco’s re-cut, My Own Private River, as well.

4. Elephant (2003) Based solely on the nature and definition of a trilogy, a second film can make or break things.  Gerry and Last Days share similarities in how quiet and isolated they are, so it makes sense that Elephant, part two of Van Sant’s Death Trilogy, would in many ways be the meat of the trilogy sandwich in terms of style and thematic substance.  Elephant operates on several distinct levels based on Van Sant’s observations of the world going into the new millennium, as the film allowed him a foundation for both experimentation and examination by proxy.  While the long takes and vast amount of distance traveled during said takes was present in all three films of the trilogy, Van Sant made a concentrated effort to make the shots look and feel similar to that of video games like the later Grand Theft Auto entries, hence a number of the shots being positionally locked during travel (often times a few feet behind the character at the center of that moment’s focus).  There are ramp-downs of the frame rate to punctuate certain moments, and quite often the camera is thrown on a tripod and allowed to take in the array of high schoolers living their standard life.  It is this mundane world-building aspect that not only gives the viewer a rapid but deep look into a handful of character’s lives, but it gives you a sense of the school’s social hierarchy while forcing you to reflect on where you once stood within it.  Per the film’s clever title, the elephant in the room eventually appears in the form of Eric and Alex, the pair of school shooters meant to reflect the Columbine Massacre perpetrators.  While school shootings weren’t an unknown phenomenon going into the 2000’s, Elephant became prophetic in its vision by releasing right before the numbers started rising at an alarming rate on these incidents.  In that sense, Elephant holds the dual distinction of not only being one of Van Sant’s best films, but one of his most important.  I will soon be looking into the 1989 Elephant film as well.

3. Drugstore Cowboy (1989) The power of Drugstore Cowboy as a modern-day narrative tragedy about the epidemic of prescription drugs, the dark allure of crime and the oddball way that broken people find solace in one another is immediately evident to anyone who has had the pleasure to see Gus Van Sant’s studio directorial debut.  Where the film really stands out however, in my opinion, is the way that Van Sant is able to achieve his major studio look while deeply applying a very artistic and personal aesthetic to the cinematography and editing.  The traditional looks are interspersed with the use of different film stocks, subtle blends of animation and flashes of stylistic edits that were almost certainly an inspiration for Darren Aronofsky’s “hip-hop editing” style.  Add to this an incredibly intuitive and expressive core cast driven by the chemistry between Matt Dillon and Kelly Lynch (and a very early Heather Graham supporting appearance), plus a strong appearance by the always memorable Max Perlich, a fiery James Remar performance and an iconic cameo from William S. Burroughs.  The jazz-influenced score not only makes key scenes livelier, but it is a symbolic statement on the drug use depicted in the film, while simultaneously playing counter to the soundtrack choices.  Period, point-blank, Drugstore Cowboy is the kind of film that surely put the world on notice, and was a clear signal of the magnificent work that would follow.

2. Good Will Hunting (1997) If held up to the standards of what people consider to be good (or even classic) film, Good Will Hunting more than holds up to scrutiny.  Visually there are a small handful of flourishes, and having Elliot Smith’s music accompany Will’s painful but enlightening journey has only become more of a bittersweet sting as the years go by.  In terms of performances, everyone brought their A+ game to the table, be it the leading performances of Matt Damon, Robin Williams or Stellan Skarsgård, the supporting performances of Ben Affleck or Minnie Driver, or even the engaging nature of Cole Hauser and repeat scene stealer Casey Affleck.  After a flurry of dedicated fandom viewings in the years following this film’s release, a very long period away from the film where I had leagues of personal growth, and a revisitation for this set of rankings, what I have discovered is that Good Will Hunting presents a wish fulfillment fantasy that was nearly incapable of being a reality in the pre-internet age for anyone other than a character like Will : an undiscovered genius with a degree from the school of hard knocks.  In a world where people often wish they had the correct answer to every question, the looks and personality to be a social magnet, and the ability to back up any tough talk with stone hands, Will Hunting stood as an idealized example you wished you could peel off the screen and have some beers with.  As the internet has invaded our lives, however, most everyone has turned into a keyboard version of Will Hunting, looking for fights online when not having briefly intimate Google sessions to flex our supposed knowledge.  Much like Will, many people find that the knowledge minus the wisdom of worldly experience and vulnerability leaves you a shell of a person filled to the eyeballs with regret, and perhaps that is why this film only gets better as the years go by, and remains among the best of the Van Sant creations.

1. To Die For (1995) For the longest time, I avoided To Die For simply because I was not a fan of Nicole Kidman…  the vast majority of her roles held no interest to me prior to To Die For (it took Eyes Wide Shut for me to really start paying attention to her), and because she was so key to the film, there was never a sense of urgency about seeing it.  As time went by, however, I started to hear rumblings that To Die For may have been a bit ahead of its time, to the point that technology and social practices have caught up to some of the ideas presented in the film.  I finally watched it for this ranking set, and man, I really missed the boat on this one.  Plain and simple, this film is pure genius on every level.  The presentation starts off documentary-esque, which not only allows for expedited distribution of backstory information, but immediately gives you an idea for the personalities of our key characters.  Kidman’s portrayal of Suzanne stood as the textbook example for what has become commonly known as sociopathy, with her blind desire for fame and respect leading to a wake of human destruction.  In terms of narrative pacing, the film proceeds like a match dropped at the endpoint of a long gasoline trail, slowly drifting towards the eventually point that everything blows up and damage must be assessed while blame and accountability must be handled, resulting in a truly powerful ending more than deserving of the heavy lifting that precedes it.  The 24-hour news cycle was on the horizon in 1995, daytime talk shows and MTv’s The Real World had not shifted into the reality TV landscape that we know today, and while a few high profile cases such as the Menendez Brothers and Pamela Smart trial (the loose inspiration for this film) had happened, the bombshell and watershed trail that was the O.J. Simpson murder case was hot on the heels of To Die For’s release (the same month, actually).  Stylistically, the film also bears striking resemblance to an updated version of Sunset Boulevard, be it knowingly or not.  Long story short, the best films not only comment on the times in which they are created, but gain relevance as time passes, and To Die For handled both of these things phenomenally.