"I've been in love with someone that didn't love me back, and I've been loved by someone that I didn't love back. And I don't know which is worse: to be broken or to break another soul."
Actually, it’s Henry Selick, who was the director of The Nightmare Before Christmas. The book was written by Neil Gaiman, though, and is far…far….worse.
The movie is captivating, but the book is twenty kinds of terrifying, even now, ten years after I first read it. As disturbing as the movie may have been to some, the things Selick added really serve to cushion just how horrific the story really is.
First of all, the character of Wybie does not exist in the book. Coraline is facing all of this nearly alone, with her only help coming from the sly comments of the cat, a warning from the circus mice, and the stone given to her by her neighbor, presented with no comment but that it “makes the unseen seen.”
Second, the Other Parents are never quite as warm (and, dare I say, normal) as they are in the gifs above. They’re described as having paper-white skin and the Other Mother’s hair is said to move on its own, and her long, red, claw-like nails don’t ease any uncertainty that she is absolutely, positively up to no good. The first time Coraline meets them, they (and the rest of the Others) seem to be playing roles (for whatever reason, Coraline does not seem to pick up on this), like they all know what to say and what to do and are simply waiting for Coraline to make her move in their terrifying play world. This is shown to be partly true when the Other Parents tell her they know she’ll be back soon after she refuses the buttons - this time, to stay.
Third, the Other Mother commits atrocities that really should not have been in a book for anyone not fully grown up. She physically deforms the world around Coraline to slow her progress in their game beyond any mild traps the movie portrays, and, instead of turning the Other Father into the wandering pumpkin-thing seen in the film, she simply ceases to use him and throws his body away in the cellar, leaving him to rot with whatever bit of sentience he has left. She begins to lose her touch, as Coraline gains the upper hand. Her world doesn’t just become a nightmare - it falls apart completely. No creepy but oddly cool bug furniture here, just the house that now appears to be a child’s drawing. Whatever the Other Mother is (a beldame, but something tells me she’s much more ancient and powerful than that), she does not give half a hump about what she has to do to ensnare Coraline. Destroy the supporting characters of her twisted creation? Done. Allow herself to be dismembered to ruin Coraline’s life in the normal world? Not even gonna bat an eyelash.
On a final, personal note, imagine eight year-old me, ignored by my parents, absorbed in the story and identifying with Coraline from the start. Imagine me finishing this bloodcurdling book and immediately thinking of my basement, where there is still a locked door that my grandmother swears up and down is nothing more than a storage room, but has not once in my (or my mother’s) lifetime unlocked.
Fun fact I learned from seeing neil gaiman speak: when he first wanted the book published, his editor said it was too scary. He suggested she read it to her young daughter, and then decide. So she did, and her daughter wasn’t afraid, and it was published. Years later, Gaiman was sitting next to that daughter at an event and told her this story, and she said “oh I was terrified I just didn’t want to tell my mom”.
Coraline WAS too scary to be published, but exists anyway because a girl lied to her mother.
It was my literary agent, Merrilee Heifetz who read it and said “you can’t seriously expect this to be published as a children’s book.” So I suggested she read it to her daughters. And she called me back a week later and said “They love it and they weren’t scared at all. I’ll take it to Harper Children’s.”
A decade later, at the Opening Night of the Coraline musical, I was sitting next to Morgan, Merilee’s youngest daughter, and told her how her not being scared had made the book happen. And she said “I was terrified. But I needed to find out what happened next. So nobody knew.”
This website can be toxic at times, but the fact that people can just tag Neil Gaiman to get his input, like a sorcerer invoking a benevolent spirit, is definitely a bright spot.
Could I please request a cute Brian smut? Maybe college era friend to lovers ?🥺 I seriously don’t mind! tumblr is so dry with brian fics atm
Fateful Chances
College era!Brian x F!Reader
Of course sweetheart! Here it is - I hope it was worth the wait and you're satisfied! <3
Prompt: You first bumped into Brian at a bookshop on your fateful chances. And what you expected to blossom no further than a friendship, you were astonished to discover that your ever growing feelings for Brian were, in fact, reciprocated.
Warnings: SMUT, Lots and lots of fluff! Profanities - there is not much else to say other than that!
Word count: Not exactly sure, but it's fairly long! Phew!
- August 22nd, London, 1967
It was a tranquil Sunday afternoon. You strolled around the small secluded book shop located down one of the little alleyways in the town; home to the tiny treasure that you greatly cherished. It was your idea of heaven. Book heaven. There was a broad selection to choose from; hundreds of novels for you to pick at whatever your fate decided. From horror to sci-fi, romance to comedy; collections that dated back to the 18th century - those of which had been untouched for quite some time, a thick blanket of dust shrouded their fragile covers and grew in height over time like fungi. They were undoubtedly the greatest treasures and novelties.
The air in the crammed shop was dense with an insufferable heat; London was in the midst of a heatwave and the limited ventilation that circulated around the shop did merely nothing to hinder the unpleasant warmth - it didn't stop the thin layer of sweat that was glazed on your forehead from forming either. The horrendous heat melded with the strong pungent smell of mould and dust that invaded your nostrils - the smell of aged books and sincere fascination. You let out a harsh cough as you inhaled some of the dust molecules that floated about - not clear or visible to the naked eye.
You ventured further into the shop, finding yourself falling deeper and deeper as curiosity and perpetual wonder showered over you; a sense of excitement coursing through your veins like poison as you felt yourself falling into a black hole made up of the fantasies and delights that you craved to unravel upon.
It was then you noticed a slim silhouette lurking from the corner of your eye to your right. Immediately interested, you began to approach the foreign figure; meekly hiding behind a bookshelf when they came into light. You were astounded that other people knew about this delightful dream; you almost felt jealous. Your predominant source of joy had been robbed and taken by someone else to relish in and fantasise over.
Mindfully examining the person closer, a cloud of dark brown chocolate curls came into your vision, and it only took you a second to click the pieces together - the person was standing in front of you. They must've caught you.
It was a man. He towered over you. But as you met his face, he seemed far from intimidating and threatening. You were met with a soft smile, confusion laced within it; his hazel orbs burned into yours - he was scrutinising you, just as you had done to him. Though he was deeply confused as to why such a beautiful lady was staring him down so deliberately, he externally appeared no less than gentle and questioning.
His smile widened ever so slightly, "Hello, can I help you by any chance?"
You gulped slightly. Your heart was thumping against your rib cage; the salty taste that invaded your taste buds on your tongue akin to a feeling of sheer trepidation. Giggling lightly, you tried to ease the so called tension you felt between you and this man who caught you in the act; it felt as though you couldn't look away from him. It was like an electrostatic force bonded you to him, and it wouldn't break no matter how hard you tried - the attraction was merely too strong.
"Sorry I- I um, I was going to ask if you knew where the thriller s-section was?" You were a blubbering mess, cheeks turning rosy as you felt a wave of embarrassment rush over you.
Raising his eyebrows ever so slightly, he nodded slowly; it was blatantly obvious that he didn't believe you in the slightest.
"I'm not entirely sure. I think they're near the space physics section, which is what I'm looking for as a matter of fact!" He giggled lightly, sensing your apparent unease and flushed face; not wanting to make you feel any more uncomfortable or awkward than you already were.
You responded with a timid nod and an absent-minded smile, finding the courage to put your hand forward as an invitation for him to shake it. "Oh I see! I'm y/n. I apologise for seeming so rude and invasive, you must think I'm some kind of deluded psychopath!"
You felt a little more at ease once he gave you another heart melting titter and a playful roll of his eyes; his eyes crinkling slightly; a set of cheeky canines poking out as he smiled widely.
"No need to apologise y/n, I didn't exactly get that impression from first glance. You seem too gentle from what I can see! I'm Brian, by the way. S'lovely to meet you."
It was as if the stars and planets had aligned; this was your destiny - your fate. The first encounter with your best friend - the love of your life; you just didn't know it yet. Neither of you did. Or did you?
- September 6th, 1968
After crossing paths with Brian, you had developed an unbreakable bond. From the moment your hands met, a bolt of electricity shooting up your arm and making it's way through the rest of your body; to the second you striked up a conversation with him about your interests. You knew it was a different kind of connection. A special one that would inevitably lead and blossom into something miraculous.
And as if fate predicted, here you were; over a year later. Summer had drawn to a close. Scorching sunny days with pearlescent skies that dominated until the late hours of the evening had slowly converted into tedious evenings that drawled out too long for anyone's liking; clouds casting over the once lively and breezy city. Londoner's trudging about the city like the undead; their apparent dread evident in their tone of speech. The city had been shrouded in a funeral veil that blocked out any ray of hope or ounce of joy.
You and Brian were lounged across the sofa a few moments ago, your head sinking into the smooth leather of the sofa as you sprawled out like a sleepy sloth. Until Brian rose from the sofa with every ounce of willpower he had stored inside him. Listening intensely, you followed the movement of Brian's feet padding against the wooden planks on the floor that creaked slightly; hearing your bedroom door open.
Moments later, Brian came out of your room with a cocky grin plastered on his face; like a little boy who had just found the chocolate bar hidden in the cupboard. He had one of your most prized possessions - your childhood teddy bear.
"You still have this?" Brian taunted jokingly, and you felt a seed of concern and fear growing inside you, sprouting out and filling all of your senses. You jumped up from the sofa with a determined effort and fight. Game on.
Stomping your feet against the wooden floor, you shot around the room like an outraged goose; playfully shouting at Brian with a tinge of annoyance as he dangled your teddy in the air. A cheshire cat grin painted on his face, and his pupils dilated to the size of dinner plates as he laughed manically.
He bounced across the room, his lanky legs working in his favour against you, with a grumpy countenance overtaking your features as you huffed angrily. Sticking his tongue out at you as he deliberately tried to provoke you further, and that was the final straw.
You raced towards him, pouncing onto him as if he were your pray as you both plummeted to the soft surface of the carpet. The bristles aided Brian's fall, letting out a light thump as his back hit the floor.
"Give it back, I swear to god Brian! Otherwise you'll be a dead man!" Reaching for the teddy which was tightly held in his left hand, you grasped it from him; letting out a triumphant squeak as you began to brutally swat Brian with the plush toy, to which he playfully cried out in pain.
He wriggled slightly as you restrained his wrists, limiting him from pulling any other cheeky tricks he had up his sleeve. Innocently smiling up at you, his eyes softened; he was pleading you to release him.
It worked to his advantage, and you rolled off of him.
"What was that about? So what if I still have my childhood teddy?" Placing a hand against your heart in a faltered and offended manner, to which Brian playfully rolled his eyes and giggled.
He smiled lightly "It's fine, I think it's cute."
You felt a blush creeping onto your cheeks, uncertain as to whether you should feel flattered or embarrassed by the words that left Brian's mouth.
Resting against the back of the sofa, you were met with Brian's gaze; it was a lot more tender and loving than usual - it could only be described as a gaze that said so much more than any enunciated phrase of speech or any word in the English dictionary. It was one akin to love; true love. And it was gladly reciprocated on your behalf.
Brian cleared his throat, nervously fidgeting with his nimble fingers "Look, y/n. there's uh- there's something I've been meaning to tell you for quite some time now. Since we first met, in fact." His voiced quivered with unease and anxiety, trying his best to force the words out of his mouth, and it was a challenge; as if his trepidation acted as a barrier and halted the words from coming out. But he knew that this was his one chance, it was now or never.
Brian let out three words. Three simple words. They were deafening. It was jarring, hearing them leave his lips. They had been contextualised to death, but when they came from someone you appreciated so dearly, they meant the world.
"I love you."
The very minute Brian spoke those precious wonderful words, your lips were on his. And as if time decided to move at the speed of light - or maybe because you were so caught in the moment - you were on his lap. His lips trailing down your neck; each tender kiss symbolised his ceaseless love for you - leaving marks in his wake as they began to darken. He treated your skin like a canvas, every kiss was like a sample of paint, applied with great precision and meaning.
"Fuck Brian, I love you too. I love you more than words can ever say sweetheart." You whispered, the flame of lust and love that ignited within you as soon as Brian touched your skin grew deadlier and more wanton with each passing second.
Standing up and gently pulling Brian off, you hauled him to the bedroom, bursting into the room. You fell backwards onto the bed, your head meeting the plush and freshly washed covers as Brian hovered over you. His fingers danced across your torso; teasingly pushing up your jumper to which you whimpered and bucked your hips in the air, your sense of need growing more and more dominant.
Brian cooed at you lovingly with a hint of bewilderment, amazed that he was able to make you feel like this. "Hush sweetheart. I'll take care of you, hm? What do you want? Do you want my fingers?"
He deliberately trailed the tip of his finger further down to test the waters, and you whined; letting out a silent 'yes'. Brian began to slowly pull your jeans down until they reached your ankles, pulling them off completely.
You hissed slightly as the harsh cold air that circulated around the room came in contact with your heated core, and Brian whimpered when he saw that you were absolutely soaked for him.
Gently, he placed his pointer and middle fingers against your bundle of nerves; beginning to apply pressure which increased with every whine that left your lips, urging him to go faster.
He smirked up at you, and his once bright and gentle eyes had been casted over with a feeling of sensory craving and lust. "Does that feel good, love?"
He was teasing you. And he knew it. He loved the way your thighs would jolt when he sped up the movements of his fingers against your clit; or when you cried out and grinded your hips against his hand when he hit the right spot. Your mind was in a haze and you felt at peace, lost in a feeling akin to pleasure.
Brian then took his other hand and placed his middle finger inside your cunt, and you involuntarily clenched around it as he began to pump it in and out of you. He halted momentarily before adding his ring finger, and then his pointer finger. You were a writhing mess; he had to hold you down with his arm to stop you from moving so much.
"Brian! Please I can't take it! Fuck, I'm going to cum!" You moaned out pathetically, tears brimming at your eyes from the overwhelming feeling of it all.
He went even faster; pumping his fingers quicker and frantically moving his fingers against your clit until you began to unravel before him. Clenching around his fingers as he slowed his movements.
Pulling his fingers out of your core deftly, he stuck them into your mouth; you sucked them as Brian watched you intently, his eyes were completely clouded with a lustful hunger. His briefs tightly constricted his cock that was practically screaming to be released.
You began to rid yourself of the rest of your clothes until you were stark naked, moments later Brian was as well. Your core began to throb when you saw Brian's cock; it was painfully red and leaking slightly, and his veins protruded from beneath the thin layer of skin that coated his length.
Looking up at you, he gently grabbed your wrists in his hand; placing them above your head. He was careful not to squeeze them too hard, in case he were to hurt you - but by this point you'd let him do anything to you.
"Are you ready sweetheart? S'okay?" Brian spoke softly, his eyes turning sympathetic and concerned for a second; until you nodded with a rebellious smirk, and that once sincere look vanished from sight and was replaced with that devil-like nature.
Slowly, Brian slid into you; you both let out a pleasant sigh which was followed by a tiny whimper from Brian's party as you clenched around him - suffocating his cock in the most enjoyable and appealing way.
"Fuck, sweetheart, you're taking me so well. Such a good girl." You began to grind your hips against Brian's cock, urging him to speed up; to which he complied and began thrusting into you at a pleasurable pace.
"It feels so good Brian! Please don't stop!" Crying out in sheer ecstasy as your stomach began to tighten once again, Brian went even faster; hitting all of the right spots over and over as if it was something he was familiar with.
"I'm so close love, are you going to cum with me?" Brian whined in your ear desperately, finding himself nearing the edge just as quick as you.
You stared up at him - and you had to admit - it was quite the sight. You probably could've have cummed alone just from the image above you. His hair was dishevelled; lips parted and painted a deep rosy red from where he had constantly bitten them. His cheeks were flushed a deep pretty pink and beads of sweat trickled down his perfectly sculpted face; the set of necklaces he wore around his neck were hitting his chest, moving back and forth and dangling over your face with each thrust of his hips. You had never seen him so riled up; he looked ethereal.
"Shit, I'm cumming! Fuck!" Brian released his load deep inside you with a broken groan, and you followed suit; tightly clenching around his cock with your hands gripping and tugging at the roots of his hair as you let out a whiny moan.
Brian slowed after a few seconds, wincing as he pulled out of you. He laid beside you on his back for a minute; he then got up and ran to the bathroom to wet a cloth, and he came back not long after. He wiped between your legs with caution, being careful not to hurt you. Ever the gentleman.
"Come here love." Once he had laid back down, he motioned for you to come over with his pointer finger; you placed your leg over his waist as you snuggled into him. He gently kissed your forehead and deftly drew light circles on your arm, hushing you until you fell into dreamland; full of an endless constellation of stars and hope.
You thanked your lucky starts for that fateful Sunday afternoon - forever filled with gratitude and happiness.
i have a question and i really don’t mean this to be rude but why do people enjoy/write dark fics especially the REALLY dark ones that include rape and domestic violence is it to work through trauma?
Please don't take this the wrong way but no one owes you or anyone else an explanation for why they like things.
Or an explanation for why they don't like things for that matter.
It in no way impacts affects or changes your life if someone writes, enjoys, loves or even hates dark fics.
I personally hate that people feel like they have to share their life stories because of anons like this. While you are coming off as respectful (and I do appreciate that), I'm not going to say it's because of people working through trauma.
They could be working through something. They could just like dark fics. Neither one is wrong.
Do people ask Stephen King why he writes the stuff he does? Or any horror film director/producer why they make the films they do? People don't blink an eye at Saw, Hills have eyes and other franchises.
These fics do not harm anyone. Certainly not you. They don't encourage, promote or support violent acts. They've been around for centuries in other formats. (hello Canterbury tales, hello Harlequin novels hello V.C. Andrew's, hello every published YA novel with an abusive male MC under the guise of he's a bad boy).
I don't like certain things. So guess what I do. I read the warnings and if it something I know I won't like, I move on.
If I read something that I don't like because it wasn't labeled properly then I exit out and move on.
I don't send the writer an ask demanding to know why they wrote that or shame them. I don't send hate. I might point out (nicely) that they forgot a warning but that's the extent of my involvement and interest.
So to answer your question. It's none of your business or concern.
I hope I'm not coming off rude but this discussion has been had over and over. And I'm tired of seeing people attacked and questioned.
You don't like or support it, just move along. Tumblr is a huge space with filters, a block button, and tags for fluff or smut only fics.
(I will say this topic and my opinions are limited to adults in fics, I don't support pedophilia in any form.)
NOTES: Christ okay so this was originally supposed to be a stormtrooper in stilettos inspired fic BUT i want that fic (when i eventually write it) to be far more filthy than this (so i spose that gives you lot something to look forward to?) i have no idea where i was trying to go with this so it ended up a little messy but it was nice to write some sub Bri in between all my Dom!Bri requests (which I’m also getting round to writing)!! anyway i hope you enjoy this little fic that i wrote during a lecture 😳 - Jem :D
WARNINGS: SMUT, edging, handjobs, blowjobs, unprotected sex, swearing, sad Bri :(, a smidgen of a choking kink, general filth but it’d be no fun without it!!
Brian had come back to your shared apartment after a very long day. He was emotionally battered and bruised from the exhaustion of simply living this day and you watched as he stormed about your small living space while you lay on the sofa, flicking through a magazine.
“Bad day?” You tossed a corner of your blanket from your legs to his as he sat beside you with a huff,
i click shuffle on a playlist i made myself. i skip the first 8 songs. i listen to one song. i skip the next 5 songs. i listen to a song for 20 seconds before skipping it too. i skip 6 more songs. i listen to the next song in full. i skip 10 songs. i listen to the next song and it's exactly what i needed. i put the song on repeat because whichever song is next probably won't hit the same. i get sick of the song. i skip 9 songs. i
women grow hair on their boobs and their butts and their legs and their arms and their stomachs and their face and really anywhere their genetics decides to have hair and it is perfectly normal what isnt normal is men who have never touched a razor trying to shame women for not looking like a hairless baby
To say I completely disagree with someone, I must first listen to their arguments, or read their books. But now after reading Deepak Chopra's Quantum Healing, I can honestly say this: Chopra's understanding of physics and quantum mechanics is like virgin trying to appear as an expert on sex and making love, but only through watching porn and sappy romantic films. Your knowledge might seem profound to SOME people who were never intimate in their lives, but if you have even the slightest actual understanding of the topic, you'll easily see through this mishmash of a word salad. Chopra attempts to show that spontaneous remission in cancer patients is the work of the mind "spontaneously " doing something just as his magical mystical "quantum " spontaneously acts and does stuff.
There are still many things that we don't understand about the world. Quantum physics certainly opened new horizons. But using random expressions such as "the quantum mechanical body" and "the quantum " as a mystical explanation for quantum theory and science is just nonsensical. Furthermore, Chopra is driven by the idea that the world cannot and must not be reduced to simple matter, that mind transcends our bodies. I have no problem with someone having their own beliefs, but you can can't have your own facts. By using some nice words, attempting to portray science as if it's like some kind of knowledge priest in the medical field, especially coming from an actual doctor, makes you a quack . A sick person's mental attitude is crucial to their healing and health, but "the quantum " isn't magic.
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