#his name is danny elfman

[piratedllama-art]

Facilities Manager [prints]

[done in procreate]

(reference)

[dilfsisko]

Man I LOVE stop motion films

[nostromo130]

danny elfman did the btas theme????

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

here's something short and goofy for you guys bc this song has been stuck in my head all morning.

“So, Eddie?” Steve asks while he, Robin, and Eddie are lounging around Family Video on a slow Tuesday afternoon.

“Yes, Stevie dear?” “Where did the ‘Big Boy’ thing come from?”

Steve watches as every bit of Eddie freezes under his gaze. 

“Uh..”

“Yeah, I’d like to know too, what’s up with that Munson?” Robin says, leaning forward on the counter beside Steve, pushing all of her right side into Steve’s left.

Poor Eddie.

“Oh, uh, well…” Eddie’s brow furrows for a moment before something seemingly comes to him in a moment. “You know how loud the rumor mill can be, Steve-o.”

“Whattya mean?” He knows what he means, he just wants to see what Eddie will say. He also knows It’s gotta be a tortuous question for the metalhead, especially one who’s crush is the one asking him. 

That was the other thing; after Eddie’s accidental pain-med induced schmoozing of Steve and the prompt forgettening of ever saying anything, Steve (and Robin) had come to the conclusion that he’s super into Eddie too.

Now it’s just a matter of getting Eddie to admit it, and having fun flirting and making him squirm a little in the meantime.

“Well, the phrase itself is from a song, but you do know your lovely conquests would talk, right?” The blush on his cheeks just makes him look cuter.

“And you believed them?” Robin states more than asks.

“Well there’s no way I’d ever know one way or the other!” Eddie laughs, his cheeks darkening.

Ignoring the myriad of things he could say to that, Steve instead asks “What song?”

“Huh? Oh, uhm, it’s from this random tape that Wayne picked up on the road a couple years ago. Has this weird art on the cover of some guy and like, skeletons and stuff? Dan something? It’s all yellow-y orange and blue..”

“That sounds so familiar…” Robin mumbles when Steve asks, “How does it go?”

“What?”

“The song.”

“Uh…” Eddie zones off into the distance and starts mumbling to himself.

Robin is still mumbling to herself too, “That sounds so familiar, what the hell?”

Eddie presumably finds the lyrics then, because he starts singing. “Big Boy, real cool, you can tell he’s no one’s fool, And he tries so hard to come off like a star.” Eddie starts dancing around in front of the counter, “You can tell by the way he combs his hair, by the cocky grin and that moody stare. By the way he leans and juts out his hip...” He sings, pointing at how Steve is doing exactly that.

Steve laughs, waving him off, “Okay, okay, I get it! You can st—”

“Elfman!” Robin calls out suddenly.

Steve and Eddie share a look. “Who’s an elf?”

“The Dan guy from your song, Elfman? Was his last name Elfman?”

Eddie snaps his fingers at her, “That’s it! Danny Elfman!” “The guy from Oingo Boingo!”

There are a few beats of silence.

“Don’t look at me like that, he’s the singer in Oingo Boingo! My parents love their stuff, and they did that song in Weird Science!”

“Which song?”

“..Weird Science.” she says as if that was obvious.

Something clicks in Steve’s head at the name, too. “Wait, I know I've seen that name somewhere else...” He rounds the counter and toward the shelf he knows the tape he's thinking of lives; it’s a goofy movie, he’s watched it before on some of his long solo shifts and it’s honestly kind of grown on him.

He grabs up the first copy he sees, one of the Family Video plastic clamshells, and brings it back to the counter, popping the tape into their tape player.

The opening credits start up, and at the title card: “Oh hey, Pee-Wee's Big Adventure! I love Pee Wee!” Eddie says, excitedly jumping up to sit on the counter in front of the TV (and Steve).

“Yeah you do..” Robin mumbles.

“Shut up,” Steve grumbles, elbowing her a bit harder than necessary, “Look.” he points up to the text on the screen. 

“Damn, this guy’s everywhere!”

“‘Music composed by Danny Elfman’. Holy shit! Good memory, Dingus!”

“Thanks! Now what is this about Eddie loving Pee Wee?”

[tnbc-thoughtsandheadcanons]

I’ve definitely said it before, but the situation on Twitter right now really shows how people are more insistent on defending Tim Burton’s **little** involvement in The Nightmare Before Christmas, instead of properly appreciating/crediting Henry Selick’s work.

Burton producing the movie does not mean he directed it. He protected it from Disney’s interference and let the crew handle the movie as they wanted. And, yes, he originally created the characters & world - but that doesn’t mean the movie is his. In fact, the original Poem doesn’t even have Sally and Oogie Boogie. The character development + story is much more fleshed out in the film in comparison - and that’s not because of Burton. It’s because of Caroline Thompson, Danny Elfman, and Henry Selick.

“But he was busy working on his Batman film at the time!” Yes. Exactly. He entrusted Henry Selick and the rest of the crew to make Nightmare. So we should properly thank THEM, instead of making excuses for Tim. People will bend over backwards trying to find any reason to credit Burton, instead of appreciating what Henry Selick has done.

And this has been the problem for YEARS -- it may not be Tim Burton’s entire fault he got credited for The Nightmare Before Christmas as much as he did. Disney was the one who put his name in the title, purely for marketing reasons with his big name(last-minute as well, mind you). The huge misconception that he directed the movie was created by countless people falsely crediting Tim over the years.

Now the time has come with Henry’s recent release of Wendell & Wild, where the public is now realizing his hard work with Coraline, Nightmare, James & the Giant Peach, etc.....and people are still insisting on crediting Burton somewhere. Like they have been for nearly 30 years.

Henry Selick has every right to be upset that things have turned out like this. He’s gone out of his way to thank and acknowledge Tim’s contributions on the movie, but he’s been due the proper credit and fame for movies like Coraline and Nightmare. He’s finally getting the spotlight he’s always deserved, but the moment he mentions how unfair it was that Burton (albeit accidentally) got the credit for his work - people suddenly act like Tim is the victim. I’m so tired of this mentality.

Watch Wendell & Wild on Netflix. Listen to the We Know Jack Show podcast. Read this article. Give Henry Selick the love and credit he’s deserved for a long time.

[boingfessions]

HAPPY OINGO BOINGO DAY EVERYNYAN!!!

I hope everyone has a great time today! Surely more than one person asked themselves a question: What the HELL is Oingo Boingo? Well, the name itself is complete absurdity! But what makes Oingo Boingo Oingo Boingo? Find out in this post under cut!

Our beloved crazy ginger man! Daniel Robert Elfman is an American film composer, singer, songwriter, and musician. Delusional, orange af, joker-like, face with a combination of slasher smile and Kubrick stare, perhaps even had prolonged non-fatal rabies in his time in Oingo Boingo that was only recently cured when the band broke, but unfortunately (or not) returned in recent years. Now his entire body is covered in tattoos and his hair is straight now because of dyeing it to hide his gray hair, ergo his old age. The truth is that he is actually a skeleton disguised as Danny Elfman to pass himself off as living human so that the Grim Reaper don't come after him, but SHHHH!!! I did not tell you anything!

Danny Elfman (lead vocals, rhythm guitar)

Steve Bartek (lead guitar, rhythm vocals)

Fluffy tall boy <3. Steve Bartek is an American guitarist, film composer, conductor, and orchestrator. Elfman's right-hand man and the one he trusts with his skeletons in his closet, oh and his film compositions too of course! One of the few members of the band who was not consumed by it and therefore did not become a feral creature in the process. He plays little guitars because he's a big man, y'know! He usually wore ridiculously short ties along with baggy t-shirts. His guitar solos drove Danny so crazy that he was spinning around and caused him to have back pain to this day, so you know how to blame. Nowadays unfortunately his beautiful dark curls have become gray, but luckily he now looks like an adorable grandpa now! (just like the others)

Kerry Hatch (bass guitar, backing vocals)

A marvelous human being! Kerry Hatch is an American musician... and that's it. Walking diva and Zoolander wannabe, this lad was the band's bassist until 1984, when he decided to join the band "Zuma II" (what the HELL is that band? I have no idea!). A pretty lad who likes to be handsome and play bass guitars that don't even look like bass guitars, I don't know what else I could say about him! Maybe he thought the band wasn't good enough for him and decided to leave to pursue something better, but that's just a guess... if you can consider a landscaping business better!

Richard "Ribbs" Gibbs (keyboards, backing vocals)

Mister mistery~ Richard Gibbs is an American film composer and music producer. Like Kerry, he left the band in 1984 to join Zuma II, and to be honest I don't know what what that band had to make not one but TWO members of Oingo Boingo (the best band in the entire galaxy and even the sixth dimension) have left to be in that band. Anywho, all I have to say about him is that he did well in life, being a composer like Danny and that's it.

Johnny "Vatos" Hernández (drums, percussion)

THIS IS JOHNNY VATOS FROM OINGO BOINGO MAN!!!! He is a drummer with crazy hairstyles who likes to dum ba dum through life. Almost as crazy as Danny was, he stayed loyal to the band even after they broke up (yes, he was in another band called Food for Feet, but I don't give a DAMN!) Years after the band broke up he managed to reunite about four former members and form "Oingo Boingo Former Members", made up of him, Steve Bartek, John Avila, Carl Graves and Sam "Sluggo" Phipps, in addition to new members. Idk about you, but I would like to have him as my grandpa!

Sam "Sluggo" Phipps (saxophone, backing vocals)

Leon Schneiderman (saxophone, backing vocals)

Slam Bam "Sluggo" Phipps is an American saxophone player known for his signature bright, expressive smiles, where he shows off all his teeth and can light up an entire room. The tallest guy in the band and the one who likes to show off his instrument the most, rising it high in the air when attention is focused on him. Well, maybe not so much, but you understand what I mean! Maybe he can be too expressive and noisy, but we still love him ❤️

Dale Turner (trumpet, backing vocals)

Do you remember when I said that Sluggo had the brightest smile in the world? Well, I lied! That one goes to our dear Leon Schneiderman, the other saxophonist in the band. He could do anything in the whole world, even his own instruments! Being a childhood friend of Danny's, it can be said that he has been in the band every moment since it started, even longer than Danny himself! Don't you love him and his smiles?

John Avila (bass guitar, backing vocals)

Our beloved grandpa-mom. He is an American trumpet player who entered The Mystic Knights after they let him audition after seeing him practice in secret. He makes sure to keep an eye on the other guys in the band and can (if he hasn't already) spank them to make them behave (except for Sluggo; NOBODY spanks Sluggo). Even if he is the shortest member of the band along with John Avila, that doesn't make him any less authoritative, being around ten years older than the rest of the band. He is silent like a mouse and has never been heard to speak, perhaps because he is reserved or has nothing to say. He left the band and is currently enjoying his life privately, and I really hope he's okay!

HE IS MY BABY, MY CUTIE PIE, MY PUPPY, MY LOVE, MY LIFE, THE BEST BOY IN THE WHOLE WORLD!!!!!!!!! RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

Ahem, sorry about that... John Avila is an American bassist and music producer. A literal human puppy and the shortest member of the band. He looks like you could pick him up in your arms and cradle him like a baby... Sorry, I'm off topic again! What do you want me to do? He's simply adorable! (At least for me). Anywho, Although he appears in the Gratitude MV, it was not until 6 months after the release of the album So-Lo that he joined the band along with Michael Bacich, being the new bassist and keyboardist respectively. He is usually hyperactive and you can see him at concerts jumping, spinning and playing his bass like a pro. The strange thing is that, even though the years go by and he obviously ages, he still seems to be the same mischievous and playful puppy-like guy... Okay, sorry again!

Michael Bacich (keyboards, backing vocals)

Quiet nerdy boy. He's was the keyboardist of the band since 1985 until 1988. Yes, he didn't stay for a long time, but his presence in the band is still important as he was present in the band's best era (Dead Man's Party). He looks like the typical nerd who would say "actually☝️🤓" and give you information that you didn't even ask for but still decided to give you to expand your zero knowledge. He also looks kinda shy and like someone who Danny would bully if the band were in a cliché teen movie. Like Dale, he decided to move on with his life after leaving the band, which it's okay after all.

I ran out of space for more images! Don't worry, I'll reblog this post right away talking about the rest of the band (which are only two members but still!). Thank you very much for reading this far and HAPPY BOINGO DAY TO ALL OF YOU AGAIN!!!

[kuiperoid]

Dark Grey Matter: Neurodivergence and the Goth Experience

[originally posted here]

Alternative subcultures have existed for nearly as long as human society. Modern examples include the flappers of the 1920s, the beatniks of the 1950s, and the hippies of the 1960s. These alternative subcultures have been defined by music, literature, fashion, and film. For those outside of these subcultures, it may be unclear what would make one wish to exist in a group that is not part of the norm. While there are many factors for each individual, it is clear that neurodivergence plays at least part of a role for many people. For the case study, I will be using the goth scene, being a member myself and because it is both newer and longer lasting than some of the others, being what to subcultures as water is to liquids, if you may. There have already been analyses of specific post-punk musicians and their neurodivergent diagnoses - Gary Numan and David Byrne being autistic, Danny Elfman with his ADHD/OCD combo, and Blixa Bargeld being synesthesic, not to mention speculation about countless others. This is not one of those. The musicians are important, but this is more about the members of the subculture as a whole, whether they produce music or not. This is also not to say that every goth or person in any given alternative subculture is neurodivergent or that every neurodivergent person is involved in an alternative subculture, just an observation on the overlap between the two. 

To start us off, let us focus on what is typically seen as central to the goth subculture: the music. There are currently a myriad of subgenres of goth music: darkwave, deathrock, gothic rock, and ethereal wave, among others. It is sometimes difficult to define goth music as a whole, especially with bands that bleed into non-goth specific post-punk genres, such as shoegaze or industrial and with different terminology being more popular in different regions and eras. A rough definition for all of these subgenres would be a variety of alternative rock music with origins in punk (though some have influence that includes glam rock, synthpop, and even Caribbean-British dub reggae) that typically values minor chords, a heavy bassline that dictates the melody, slower rhythms, mezzo vocals, and artful, often dark lyrics. Why would this genre appeal to neurodivergent people specifically? The initial appeal is the sound. A common comorbidity with autism, ADHD, and other variations of neurodivergence is Auditory Processing Disorder or other differences in sound processing. Those thusly impacted may respond to verbal cues more slowly, be irritated by certain sounds more easily than others, and mishear words more frequently. There are numerous hypotheses to address differences in musical taste and likely multiple contributing factors and differences in audio processing may be one of those factors. While not every instance of APD is exactly the same, it is easy to see how a music genre that focuses on deeper pitches, more pronounced vocal styles, and slower rhythms would aurally appeal to individuals who experience auditory processing differences. 

Aside from the way that the music sounds, there is also great appeal in the lyrical content. Certainly, goth bands touch on a variety of topics, from the historical monologues on the World Wars by Joy Division and the Pagan rites of Inkubus Sukkubus to the scathing diatribes of 1980s conservative politics by Sisters of Mercy and the sexual escapades explored by London After Midnight, just to name a few. Across the diverse set of subjects that these bands cover, there is a consistent return to one recurring theme: being an outsider observing an imperfect world. The experience of feeling like an outsider is certainly one that many neurodivergent individuals can relate to. Many neurodivergent individuals are made to feel like outsiders from a young age, often bullied by their peers for their communication styles and told by family members to behave differently, traits they have difficulty controlling. With differences in communication and internalizing the world, it is difficult to make sense of supposed social rules and forge connections. When one has similar requirements to exist happily as others but difficulty obtaining them due to reasons outside of one’s control, it is easy to recognize the world as a flawed place full of inequality and rewards for shallow traits. There is hope for those whose auditory processing differences do not manifest in alternative music, at least not exclusively. Fortunately for youth of today who still feel like outsiders, be it due to neurodivergence or anything else, but still have more mainstream aural preferences, modern pop artists are less afraid of embracing oddity and touching on feelings of isolation. Some may even serve as bridges for those with a taste for multiple genres as some pop artists have expressed an appreciation for goth artists. One now-former member of One Direction previously cited Joy Division’s Unknown Pleasures as a primary music inspiration, Dua Lipa did a photoshoot that made an homage to Siouxsie Sioux, and Billie Eilish has been seen performing in an Alien Sex Fiend shirt.

Of tertiary importance to the scene compared to music but more obvious to those not involved in the scene is fashion and makeup. The way that neurodivergent people often do not internalize social norms, current trends are often similarly not internalized, so dressing according to any sort of trend is not even considered. That being said, clothes are not necessarily chosen at random either. Something of utmost importance to many neurodivergent individuals when choosing clothes, as with many of their neurotypical counterparts, is comfort. This sometimes manifests in more obvious physical ways, such as removing tags or avoiding certain fabrics. It is easy to see how a scene that values DIY aesthetics would appeal to those with sensory differences; no one can fault one for cutting off a tag when the entire outfit is cut up and put back together with safety pins. However, there are also ways to achieve psychological comfort. Case in point, Blixa Bargeld, founding member of German industrial band Einstürzende Neubauten and arguably founder of the industrial music genre as well as former guitarist of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, has attributed his preference for wearing all black to to his synesthesia and finding other colors to be too overwhelming. Many black-wearers have made similar statements, with or without a diagnosis of synesthesia or something similar. Neurodivergent people also often find comfort in wearing clothing related to one’s special interest, so band shirts are a common staple, along with outfits that homage musicians, movie characters, or others they admire. There is also the issue of expression. Neurotypical people often have difficulty reading the emotions of their neurodivergent peers due to differences in emotional expression. Clothing and makeup, in addition to highlighting one’s general interests, can also help in making emotional expression more obvious to others. Of later importance, many neurodivergent individuals find that dressing in a way that labels them as a person with certain interests, this can help them attract others of similar interests. Given that many neurodivergent people have difficulty making friends and initiating social interactions, having an easy way to call to others that they are like them is socially beneficial. 

In conclusion, it is clear why there is a connection between these two. Alternative subcultures are a welcoming environment for many who feel like outsiders are neurodivergent individuals are often made into outsiders by default. In addition, the sounds and sights of goth specifically appeal to many of those with specific sensory differences. With such a long, rich history that continues to this day, this subculture is fit to be quite a rewarding special interest. 

[loraxprince]

|| THREE ONCELERS!? Plus a bit of info about them! ||

The Wardenler - also just goes by Warden but added -ler to not get either warden mixed up. His real name is Discord Hollister! He’s a narcissist shapeshifter and is the embodiment/personification of chaos. {much like how 1972 is the embodiment/personification of greed.}

{Voice/voice claim: Will Wood}

The Winter Prince / Prince Winter - his real name is just Once-ler. He is the prince of the Ice Kingdom and is thousands of years old with a young appearance. Although seeming sane the crown still has its affects on him often going mad but don’t fret! He’ll snap out of it eventually.

{Voice/voice claim: Jack Skellington - Chris Sarandon and Danny Elfman}

The Other Onceler - this rosy cheeked man is the real Once-ler’s other self! Made by the Beldam to trick poor Theodore to stay. Unlike the others he is self aware and cares for the 12 year olds safety. After all it’s just a child.

{Voice/Voice Claim: Raggedy Andy - Mark Baker}

Alt versions with their actual colors without the overlay

Shows - Superjail, Adventure Time

Movie/book - Coraline

[wenclairfamily]

Wednesday Gets Drunk on Karaoke Night: Short Young Adult Wenclair Story

-Pictures Made Using AI, with Several Edits Done by Myself

*This story takes place when Wednclair are married at age 26

Wednesday and Enid walked into a bar that was dimly lit, but had bright pink wallpaper along the walls. The bar included tables for people to eat at, while a stage was set up with two microphones. Wednesday looked very uncomfortable as she said, "What is this place?" A smiling Enid said, "It's The Pretty Unicorn Bar. I've always wanted to check this place out, but I never really got the chance. Come on. It's my birthday, but I'll buy you any drink tonight." Wednesday and Enid then sat at a bar, as a female bartender approached the two. The female bartender then said, "So what's your poison tonight ladies?" Wednesday with a deadpan face said, "Arsenic if available." The bartender looked confused for a moment, but then a smiling Enid said, "It's her first time at a bar." The bartender smiled as she said, "Well then I'm honored to serve her first drink. I'll find her something nice." Then Wednesday suddenly heard loud pop music come on. Wednesday's eyes widened as she said, "What is that?" A super happy and excited Enid then said, "It's karaoke night Wens! And the theme is 90's music!" Then five young men stood on stage together as they sang, "You are... my fire. The one... desire. Believe... when I say... I want it that way!" Enid then hooted and hollered at the five young men on stage singing... while Wednesday stepped back with terror on her face as she began to grab a knife.

A half hour passed, and Wednesday sat at the edge of the bar while drinking a bottle of wine. The bartender then walked over to Wednesday as she said, "You okay girl?" Then Wednesday put the bottle of wine down as she said, "I think I need something stronger." Then suddenly Wednesday heard Enid's voice say, "Hi everyone! My name is Enid, and tonight I'll be singing with my lovely wife of nearly eight years: Wednesday!" Wednesday then turned her head, and saw Enid standing on the stage. A smiling Enid then said, "Hey Wens. It's our turn to do karaoke. Come on everyone. Encourage my wife to come up and join me." Then everyone in the bar chanted: "Wednesday! Wednesday! Wednesday!" Wednesday with an uncomfortable and annoyed look on her face - walked over to the stage as she kept a bottle of wine in her hand. Wednesday then stood near Enid, and softly said, "I didn't agree to this." Then a smiling Enid said, "But you said you'd do anything I wanted on my birthday. Come on. It's karaoke. Loosen up. Besides... I thought it be fun if we'd do a little song from one of the Batman movies." A curious Wednesday then said, "Oh. Should I go to the limo and get by cello. I am quite familiar with Danny Elfman's theme music he composed." Then a coy Enid said, "Actually... I'm picking a little tune from the Batman Forever soundtrack."

Then suddenly slow romantic music began to play on the bar's speakers, as a wide eyed and frightened Wednesday said, "What?" Then a smiling Enid said, "Come on Wednesday. This will be fun. Now just sing the words as they appear on the screen over there... not that you'll need to, since you've already sung this song with me a thousand times... in my dreams." Wednesday sighed... and then grabbed a microphone, and with a monotone emotionless speaking voice, she said, "There used to be a greying tower alone on the sea." Then with excitement, passion, and emotion: Enid grabbed her microphone tightly as she closed her eyes and sang, "Youuuu became: the light on the dark side of me." Then Wednesday in her emotionless speaking voice said, "Love remained a drug that's the high and not the pill." Then a happy Enid tilted her head back as she passionately sang, "But did you know that when it snows: my eyes become large, and the light that you shine can't be seen?" Then as Enid continued to sing, Wednesday tilted her own head back and began to quickly drink as much wine as she could from her wine bottle.

Then within minutes, both Enid and Wednesday were holding their microphones in their hands, while a very drunk and passionate Wednesday with closed eyes and lots of emotion in her heart: held out one hand as she sang, "BAY-BAY, I compare you to a kiss from a rose on the grey. Ooooh, the more I get of you, the stranger it feels, yeah!" Then a smiling Enid and Wednesday together both sang, "Now that your rose is in bloom: a light hits the gloom on the grey." Then as the song ended, the entire crowd in the bar began to loudly clap and cheer. A smiling Enid then said, "Wow Wednesday. That was fun. Looks like the wine really helped you loosen up." Then with a determined look on her face, Wednesday said, "I want to sing another song." Enid then casually said, "Sure we will. Next time we come here." Then with a look of anger, Wednesday held her microphone up as she said, "No. We will sing another song NOW!" A confused looking Enid then said, "Um... okay."

Within a half hour: Wednesday, Enid, and many other individuals were dressed up as monsters as they were dancing together. Wednesday meanwhile was throwing her arms around in all directions as she said, "Now throw your hands up in the air! Wave 'em around like you just don't care." The Enid yelled, "And if you wanna party let me hear you yell… 'cause we got it goin' on again!" Then Wednesday stood on top of the bar as she yelled, "Am I original!?" Then everyone in the bar yelled, "Yeah!" Then Enid jumped on top of the bar as she yelled, "Am I the only one?" Then everyone in the bar again yelled, "Yeah!" Then Wednesday began shaking her hips as she said, "Am I sexual?" Then everyone in the bar loudly yelled, "Yeah!" Then Wednesday and Enid both sang, "Am I everything you need? You better rock your body now." Then Wednesday and Enid jumped on the dance floor, as they and many other people began shaking their arms (with hands bent) back and forth while they sang, "Everybody! Yeah! Rock your body. Yeah! Everybody… rock your body right! Backstreet's back, alright!"

The next morning Wednesday woke up in bed. Wednesday then sat up as she said, "Uggh. Major headache... and not the kind I like." Then a smiling Enid walked into the room as she said, "That's called a hangover babe. But it's the price you gotta pay for the most crazy fun night of our lives." Then a confused looking Wednesday said, "Wait. What happened last night? I don't seem to recall any details." Then Enid held up her phone as she said, "I thought that might happen. So I made sure I could get as many people as possible to record it." Then Wednesday's eyes widened as she saw Enid play a video that showed herself singing and dancing on stage. Wednesday with anger in her face said, "Remove it! Remove it at once!" A confused Enid then said, "But I can't. Other people recorded it and put it online. And then hundreds of other people re-posted it as it spread online. I can't delete the video from existence now, just like I can't erase people's memories of it."

Then Wednesday glared forward as she said, "Well I can. Because I will use every ability at my disposal to reach beyond reality and force the creator of everything that is known to us to erase this night from everyone's memories... or give them a slow painful death." Then fearing for my own life, I declared that everyone in the universe forgot and lost every trace of Wednesday and Enid's big dance party night. I am not sure how Wednesday just transcended my fanfiction reality and is holding a knife to my head, but here I am now breaking the fourth wall just to let you know no one remembered Wednesday's crazy dance night. It will be like it never happened. Those dance scenes are no longer canon to the story. Now please Wednesday... don't hurt me!

Check out my HUGE Wenclair Series to Read MORE

https://www.wattpad.com/user/WenclairFamily (T-rated version of my stories)

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14168842/1/The-Passion-of-a-Moment-Enid-and-Wednesday-s-Family-and-Legacy (M-rated version of my stories)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43420609 (alternate link for M-rated version of my stories)

[detectivehole]

Hey what's oingo boingo?

Oingo Boingo was an 80s new wave band fronted by Danny Elfman as a derivative of his previous work with the surrealist burlesque theater group The Mystic Knights of the Oingo Boingo (formed by his older brother), who were active in the 70s (Mystic Knights had emphasis on rock, funk, and jazz)

Oingo Boingo never reached heights of fame other New Wave groups like DEVO did, but they were arguably more impactful on the scene (and others- they had a lot of influence on modern ska of all things). they're characterized by their consistently darker and jazzier sounds compared to other bands, and their more directly cynical, snide, and deliberately button-pushing lyrics. Elfman wrote a lot of music during both the Mystic Knights and Oingo Boingo days with themes of perversion, insanity, mortality, and isolation- but almost always through a lense of mocking comedy

it's good stuff, and if you're looking to get into it i'd start with the album Dead Man's Party and the song of the same name, then move to No One Lives Forever, Stay, Weird Science, and Who Do You Want to Be- then just sorta hop around at your own pace

[omegalomania]

some kind soul uploaded the full q&a that fall out boy did the other night! here is a highlights reel of things that grabbed me while i was watching for those who don't have time to watch:

they have a rapport with the interviewer and have hung out with him a bunch. patrick says they spent like 30 minutes making fun of couches last they hung out lmao

pete describes working with neal avron as being held like an enchanted forest creature with him standing inches from pete's face and saying "what. are. the songs. about." and pete going "oh my god he's looking into my fucking soul rn"

when asked what their favorite meal is, andy says "mom's spaghetti" and doesn't elaborate, patrick says "sushi" and doesn't elaborate. pete says that he's like the joker and he's a simple man and today he had a full english breakfast and he didn't know what to do with half the stuff that showed up.

pete talks about discussing the name of "the beatles" with elliot ingham (their photographer) and says he finally understood that their name was a pun. he says about this "i'm not the sharpest tool in the shed" and doesn't realize he's referencing a meme. the crowd immediately fills him in that it's a lyric by smash mouth. andy clowns on him for this right after: "he's NOT the sharpest tool in the shed"

the host says that pete seems very intellectual. pete says "i PROMISE you that's not true."

when asked about formative musical influences andy and patrick both cite familiar names (andy namedrops drummers for bands like slayer and metallica, patrick says his dad being a folk singer was a huge influence and the 1989 danny elfman batman score). pete says joy division but says he's a visual person and most of his influences are movies.

there's a moment where patrick and pete banter and pete points at the host and says "he just told me i'm smart, i'm trying to live up to it!!" and patrick says in this very small high pitched voice "please be nice to pete!"

anyway pete says his biggest influences are "all the twilight movies except for the one where they introduce [i have no idea what he says here because the crowd promptly goes apeshit]" and also lego batman.

for newer artists patrick says he really likes the new zulu record and the new incendiary song. he says he also likes MSPAINT, alvvays, and another band i couldn't catch the name of

pete says he likes all of patrick's recommendations and says he also likes games we play. andy doesn't give any artists but says patrick gave a "great list" because he's VERY jet-lagged. he's keeping it together as best as he can tho lmao

when asked about if they would ever do a fashion runway show like they did in 2013, patrick says he was embarrassingly short for the whole thing. "i'm at like, bellybutton level." so he says he doubts they would ever be invited back to do something similar "unless they want a bunch of hobbits"

someone asks about producing and patrick gets really in depth with what producing is like and uses "from under the cork tree" as an example - "nobody puts baby in the corner" was barely adjusted from demo form but "sugar we're goin down" had totally different verses at first until they got better direction from the producer.

when asked about what their favorite video to film was, pete says youngblood chronicles WASN'T a lot of fun to make because it was like 9 months with fake blood in your hair and clothes that haven't been washed oNCE. he also didn't love doing the prosthetics for "love from the other side"

the host asks if they've seen the last of us and pete says yes but points at andy and says "he hasn't seen the last episode though so no spoilers!!!" which i thought was very sweet. he then follows that up with "just watch the fuckin episode so we can talk about it!"

patrick and andy said they shot a music video recently that was a "blast" but it's not out yet. pete calls it "very fun, very funny." the crowd starts cheering and patrick hastily says "YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT! you're under NO obligation to like it! but if you do then that's good :)"

patrick says one of the best parts of being in a band is that they all have imposter syndrome but in different ways so they can build up each other's ideas even if they don't believe in their own.....

pete's very nervous about the lyrics to this album cause he's not sure they'll be relatable since he has a lot of "insane fears day to day about not existing." he went to a lot of places that were terrifying to him and he was like "should i talk about this to my therapist" but his therapist said "put this in your lyrics"

"heaven, iowa" was the song that took the longest to come together on this record. this is followed by a rly long anecdote from patrick that im putting in another post cause it honestly made me howl.

when asked about who they'd most like to collaborate with, andy without hesitation says "ourselves" and nothing else. pete says he wanted a kid cudi feature on the album but it didn't work out since he was either busy or ghosted them fldjflkdf

when asked what song are they tired of playing that they can't cut from the setlist and they DON'T want to answer. patrick says some songs have really high notes that are demanding physically for him but that's as specific as he gets lol

pete's like "well we've got this punk song we end all our shows with from one of our earlier albums and it gets very chaotic and sometimes it's a bit of a fancy crowd of people who are like 'i like centuries, i like some of their other songs....i write sins...' and before we start the song i'm like. oh god this is gonna be bad."

when asked about the songwriting process, patrick says: "pete sends me lyrics, i mine them for stuff i like, and....i hate starting answers like this i feel like i've been saying this all MONTH. so i have ADHD - " [crowd fucking goes wild]

when asked about which projects they're proudest of outside of fall out boy, patrick turns to andy and says "andy is very quiet about being in like thirty bands" but andy says he's proud of "all of it"

patrick remarks that he's heard some love for soul punk but is also super grateful he gets to do film and tv scoring now too! he says he likes that when he's talking to people and they ask what he does and if they don't know bands or anything he can say he likes scoring for film and tv and their eyes glaze over and there are no follow-up questions LMAO??

pete is proudest of the bands on his record label!

for favorite songs on the new record, patrick says he likes "what a time to be alive" and says the lyrics are "so tremendously pete"

pete likes "baby annihilation"

when asked about the most difficult song to play live, patrick said headfirst slide wasn't really that difficult even though he expected it to be. he says a lot of songs on mania were very challenging to play live, like young and menace. pete says "what a catch, donnie" was very hard for his "little brain" to play

at the end pete shouts out the host for being fantastic since they've hung out like 3 times now and he thinks he's a great dude to hang out with. andy inexplicably follows this up with "you look like a DAMN fine cup of coffee" and doesn't elaborate but patrick thinks that's his way of saying thank you too

[dumbificat]

Obey me brothers music headcanons under the cut! (^Ｏ^)~☆♪

Includes general music headcanons + examples of artists and songs!

Lucifer

Definitely listens to classical music, mostly by record too.

Likes piano covers of songs, especially if they sound reminiscent of classical music.

Could also see him humming a song that a brother/MC has been playing on repeat.

Prefers little to no lyrics, so he can listen while working and focus, or to relax. (^_^)

Example artists:

Claude Debussy, Ludovico Einaudi, Moisés Nieto, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky.

Example songs:

Clare de Lune (Debussy), Run (Einaudi), Song of Storms (Nieto cover), Deh Vieni Alla Finestra (Mozart).

Mammon

Pop, specifically from the early 2000’s.

Loves any other song that could be considered a banger/classic.

Loves to sing those songs while driving! If you join the ride/singing, he enjoys it a lot more.

Karaoke nights with Asmo and MC, imagine you three singing Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (*'▽'*)

Example artists:

Spice Girls, The Pussycat Dolls, Taylor Swift, Outkast.

Example songs:

Out of My League (Fitz and the Tantrums), Partners in Crime (Set it Off, Ash Costello), Hollaback Girl (Gwen Stefani), Gimme More (Brittney Spears).

Leviathan

Anime openings/endings, video game soundtracks.

J/K-pop. Bonus that he knows the dances and does them as exercise.

Also any hyper pop song or song that he can stim to (see Galen Tipton on Spotify for reference)

Would try to make his own music, sounds similar to undertale music ٩(^‿^)۶

Example artists:

LiSA, Hatsune Miku, Twice, the Living Tombstone.

Example songs:

コネクト(Connect, ClariS), Daycare Theme (Allen Simpson), Core (Toby Fox), Fireflies (Owl City).

Satan

Alt/alt rock. Movie soundtracks while he’s reading.

Sometimes listens to pop from the 10’s and would mouth the words if no-one’s looking.

Also enjoys a good piano/harp cover of any song.

Prefers if songs have a deeper meaning or are a big metaphor, but also enjoys songs with no lyrics.

Welcome to the Black Parade karaoke with Belphie, thinking of Lucifer (T_T)

Example artists:

Paramore, Hans Zimmer, Danny Elfman, Avril Lavigne.

Example songs:

Babooshka (Kate Bush), Orinoco Flow (Enya), Choke (IDKHow), Zelda’s Lullaby (Amy Turk cover)

Asmodeus

Any pop song, knows all the words and isn’t afraid to sing them whenever.

I feel like he would enjoy some J/K-pop, especially sweet songs like Candy Pop by Twice. Bonus if he knows some of the dances like Levi!

Prefers the feel/sound of a song (and if he can dance to it)

Karaoke nights with Mammon/MC, has to sing Maneater solo at least once (๑>◡<๑)

Example artists:

Nelly Furtado, Brittney Spears, Lady Gaga, Red Velvet.

Example songs:

Maneater (Nelly Furtado) Toxic (Brittney Spears), Starships (Nicki Minaj), Girlfriend (Avril Lavigne).

Beelzebub

Loves workout music, or any songs that can get him motivated.

I think he’d enjoy almost any song, likes more literal songs that deep metaphors.

Enjoys music with food in the lyrics/name. Bonus: didn’t realise Cake by the Ocean wasn’t about dessert on the beach (〃ω〃)

Example artists:

Jack Stauber, DNCE, Ricky Montgomery, Europe.

Example songs:

Strawberry Mentos (Leanna Firestone), Sunflower (Post Malone, Swae Lee), HONEY (Derivakat), Eye of the Tiger (Survivor)

Belphagor

Either heavy metal or quieter songs to help him sleep.

Personal opinion that he loves musicals. Probably listens in secret though.

Likes to drown out his thoughts with loud songs, or enjoys the wordplay most musicals have.

Secretly (not a secret) emo. Likes songs that match his aesthetic. (u_u)

Example artists:

My Chemical Romance, BABYMETAL, Heathers cast, IC3PEAK

Example songs:

Welcome to the Black Parade (My Chemical Romance), Chop Suey! (System of a Down), Parasite Eve (Bring me the Horizon), Say My Name (Beetlejuice)

BONUS:

All of the brothers will listen to any song you recommend, and might even learn the words to impress you (>_<)

Thank you so much for reading! I Hope you enjoyed, feel free to tell me what you think of these headcanons! Also, let me know if you have any ideas/suggestions （╹◡╹）♡

[teenage-monster]

"Danny Elfman at The Ritz this" "Danny Elfman at The Ritz that" Can we talk about my man John Avila for a moment???

Just look at him!!! Look at that emotion, that joy on his face, those couple of jumps he takes! He's just so happy to be there, and if he's happy I'm happy too <3

Of course I couldn't cut off that part of Danny playing that instrument that I don't know the name of, but well the point is that everyone gave their best and it was awesome!!!

[eddiemunsxn]

How you meet for Henry x female reader plz

Fluff plz

— cherry blossom.

masterlist. / nav.

❰ warnings. fem!reader, slight angst (blame hawkins lab), surgery scene (blood, wounds), there’s lots of fluff i promise

❰ word count. 2.6k

❰ note. if he just…had a healthy, soft connection with someone he might not have ended up as a moist walnut

danny elfman’s “ice dance” heavily inspired the last scene! 🥰

Trading off a concrete, jungle city for miles of trees and open sky had an unexpected change in pace. Everything from buying groceries to drinking coffee was done slower and more deliberately than in a bustling city.

Hawkins had that cafe sense of community; sitting down with someone they’d known since preschool, which meant the small town was like a knitting circle. Word got around.

Your arrival in the suburban neighborhood drew eyes like flies to a corpse. Especially your work clothes. Blank and professional, it was off putting. You didn’t have patterned scrubs or with characters, but a callback to the second world war; a white ward dress and hat.

Fitting, since your new job was established after that war, built as an X with only one road in and out. Secluded in the woods, barbed wire fences cradled the building. It didn’t have windows, but was covered with chain mail-esque grating, and atop the roof, disks jutted out like a cluster of white mushrooms.

You slowed your car at the gate, and provided your identification tag to the military police. Looking through the many eyes of the gate, something cold breathed down your throat; spreading like food coloring throughout your body.

The other thing you learned about small towns—they weren’t safer. There was a preconceived notion of them being more secure than big cities, but the opposite was true.

Your job was the most perilous thing in Hawkins. In your history of government work, little fazed you, but when you first saw the children, lined up in order of height like Russian nesting dolls, it weighed down your heart. Their names were numbers. Their childhood was white walls, bloody noses, and tests.

“Children,” Brenner said. “This is your new nurse. Say hello.”

In unison, they greeted, “Hi, miss (Y/N).”

Their voices were innocent, but in their spare time they spied through closed eyes and compressed animals to death. They were being trained to kill people.

In a backlash of pre-teen rebellion, one of them had accidentally killed the previous nurse. It wasn’t their fault to lash out in such a way, seeing as where they were being raised and how they were treated. It frightened and saddened you.

But one person, an orderly, was very human with them. You didn’t know his name, but you had watched how he interacted with the children. He never stood over them, looked down at them, or watched them with the stiff demeanor of a prison guard. He was always eye level, sitting on the floor, or across from them in a game of chess.

Without windows to look outside, he became their idea of sunlight; bright at every angle in their days, and warming the cold, emotionless space within the otherwise colorful walls.

Some of that light shone on you, calming the tightness in your chest. You wished to feel all of it. To know him, and to be of some comfort to the children like he was.

The gate peeled open, and you eased your car through—just as you now encouraged one of the children through the door of the rainbow room. Hand on his shoulder, you walked in with him, and your heart hiccuped as the orderly, standing in the middle of the room, turned to you.

He neatly held his hands at his abdomen. His hair, swept in waves, recalled the color and sheen of gold pearls, contrasting his alabaster skin. He made you think of Apollo. Suitable. A god associated with the sun.

“Feeling better today, are we?” He tilted his head, his small smile dimpling his cheeks.

The child nodded.

“Great, why don’t you join the others? You've got some catching up to do.”

The child left your side, and the orderly’s eyes were drawn to you. He approached, and your heartbeat became more quick and pronounced against your chest.

His eyes held the inviting warmth of summer’s first day, but little did you know his heart was the shape of the devil’s forked tongue. Funny how he always wore white, which symbolized purity.

“We haven’t properly met.” He extended his hand out to you. “I’m Peter Ballard. And you?”

“Y/N.” You took his hand, but he was the first to squeeze. He held your eyes, entrancing you with how kind he looked, and how he kept your hand in his. “I’ve been meaning to say…” You trailed off, but he waited, patient, and smiling thoughtfully.

“The way you…interact with them. The children. It’s so human, which might be strange to say, but…no one else has that connection to these kids, not even Brenner. You sit and talk with them. You listen.”

“I used to be very close to the first one they brought in. I knew him well.” Peter stepped closer to you, dipping his chin to keep eye contact as his height grew more over you. Goosebumps traced up your spine like a sensual hand. “But I haven’t gotten to know you. And I want to.” He quieted his voice. “If you’ll let me.”

You marveled at him, lips parted. A worded response refused you, and you nodded.

The brightness in his broad smile echoed in his eyes. He looked relieved.

Peter made sure he lingered in your thoughts, whether in the moment, or when you were apart. You attracted him like flies to a dead body, and he was all over you with subtle touches—standing so close your hips brushed, walking by you and his hand kissing yours in passing.

He once removed a stray thread of your uniform stuck to your chest, letting his fingers draw along the curve of your breast. He was neat and orderly, after all. At least, that was your excuse.

It wasn’t just physical touches. His eyes always sought you out, admiring you as though you were his favorite flower in the garden, as he did now. The children blurred into the background with you around, his central focus.

“Where were you before Hawkins?” He asked. He always had an abundance of questions for you. About you.

“Macon, Georgia.”

“Is there something you miss about it?”

“Only one thing. The cherry blossoms. Each spring, Macon turns into a pink fairground for the International Cherry Blossom Festival, with amusement rides and blossom-themed events. I miss it. The trees were always so beautiful. Especially at night. And I loved sitting beneath them when the wind would blow the petals away.

“I never fit in well with others. I’ve always been reluctant in new places, believing them to be indifferent to how everyone and everything else treated me. Because I was different. With the cherry blossoms, I found…” Your throat closed like a fist, and hurt crawled into your chest; talons writing burning marks.

It wasn’t easy to convey something which could not be conveyed in words. It was in your bones, and could only be felt in those same bones.

Pain’s language was pure presence—pure feeling. Like reading braille. One would have to reach into you and feel the cracks on your bones, the rough texture of uneasy healing in order to understand.

“Solace…” Peter murmured. He looked at you differently this time. A wound recognized another wound.

Vision blurred, you met his eyes.

“I know.” He spoke so softly, with so much understanding it proved a balm to your raw nerves. “My label was ‘broken’.”

“How did you…?”

“Cope?” He lifted his brow. “My solace was black widows nested in a vent. They fascinated me. Comforted me in how misunderstood they were. Like you and I. But then I was take—” Peter cut himself off, swallowing hard, tendons swollen as scratches in his neck. “Forgive me. Memory is a rope around the neck.”

Taken?

“Can you do something for me?” This time, he looked straight on as if to appear indifferent to anyone watching. “I want to show you something, but I am unable to without your help.”

“What is it?” You asked, mirroring his action.

“Meet me after the children are asleep. The infirmary.” He tucked his hands behind his back, and left your side.

Doors shutting, and keys jangling in the locks resounded in the hall. The children were put in their rooms, numbered like their wrists.

You waited in yours, the infirmary, for Peter. What would he ask you to do? Why did it need to be in private?

The door opened, and Peter slipped through.

You strode toward him. “Peter, what’s this about?”

He held his index finger to his plush lips. “Softly.”

“Peter…”

He lowered his hand. “This place is a prison, Y/N.” He spoke slowly in his mellow tone. He wanted to emphasize each word, their importance—to sew them into you. Intricate patterns required the most steady needle. “Everyone here is a prisoner, not just the children, but the guards, too. You. Me.”

Your eyebrows squished together, and you looked down. Words evaded your mind as sudden coldness pricked your core. You hugged yourself, cupping your elbows.

“You may have a home to leave to at the end of the day, but they will always have you—body, and mind, like they do me. And they will kill you.”

You looked back up to him, eyes wide.

“Or electrocute you into mental paralysis if they so choose. What they do here will always be above your life, no matter what you do for them.”

Your stomach quivered, and sweat leaked from the lines of your palms. You believed him. Why else would he approach you with this? The government was always fucked—you didn’t need a reminder, but you never thought, as a nurse, you’d end up in this end of it.

“I’m not trying to scare you.” Peter gently took your hand in both of his, squeezing in promise. “I want to free you from this hell, and the children.” He lifted his brow. “They don’t belong here. You’ve seen, day after day, the brutality. I’ve lived it, too, and they don’t want to let me go. But you can help me, and I can help you.”

They hurt him? Christ. Your heart stuttered at the thought. “What you said before in the rainbow room, or…almost did. Were you…” You winced. “Taken by them?”

“A long time ago, when I was Henry Creel.” He released your hand, leaving a shadow of his warmth on your cold body. “They took my name, and then they took something else from me.”

He angled his head, and drew his hair back, exposing his neck. He touched a scar there—or, rather, what was below it—in him. Something the size and shape of a pill. He was able to push on it, and it rolled up beneath his skin. “Brenner calls it Soteria. It weakens me, tracks me.”

“You want me,” you said softly. “To take it out?”

Peter angled his head back and looked at you, but you saw Henry Creel. Eyes blue as Morning Glory flowers, softened by his silent pleading from the weariness of being Peter Ballard.

He had been bound to these eyeless walls, and the colors of him were flushed white—his individuality and freedom taken. All he had left was that yellow light, that sunlight you always saw radiating from him. What else could he do but try to cling to a color that meant warmth when he never received it in any form. All he had left was the meaning.

You released a breath you had been holding. “Okay.”

“Remember, you can’t hurt me more than they already have.” Henry lay on the bed, and pulled his belt from his waist, bending it into a loop to bite between his teeth.

On a stool, you sat next to him, holding a scalpel. He angled his head, exposing his neck again, and you leaned to him, brushing your fingertips along his skin to push his hair away. You touched the edge of the scalpel to the scar, glancing up at Henry with a silent apology before you drew a clean slit.

He shut his eyes as you had to trace the incision with the blade once more, due to the thick scar tissue. Blood drooled out from the cut, and you switched the scalpel for tweezers.

As you dipped them into the wound, Henry stiffened, and the cords in his neck bulged. You massaged the pill-like device upwards as you pushed the tweezers deeper to grab it.

Henry bared his teeth, and you imagined they’d leave imprints in the leather of his belt.

You clamped the tweezers down on Soteria, and pulled it out. Slick with blood, you held it up in front of you, brow furrowed. What did this thing do? Why did Henry need to be weakened? Did the other orderlies have one?

Henry relaxed beside you, letting the belt fall from his mouth. He worked his jaw, loosening it. His tolerance for pain made your heart heavy. Why did he have to go through so much of it?

He moved to sit at the edge of the bed, his eyes bearing into the device trapped in the jaws of the tweezers. “Who knew such a small thing could be a nuisance.” He grabbed Soteria from the tweezers, and stood from the bed, unconsciously walking away as he admired the device as though it were a rare jewel.

He looked over his shoulder at you, his thumb and index fingers patchy with his own blood. The sunlight in him was brighter than before. “Now I can show you.”

Henry walked you to the doors of the rainbow room, but he trailed behind, letting you approach first.

You turned to him—him, standing there all proper again, hands hidden behind him. Your incredulous look made him smile. He gestured forward with a nod, encouraging you.

Reluctant, you faced the doors, and your spine grew sensitive under his gaze. What could there be to show in here? You grabbed the handle and pulled.

Then you felt a cool breeze, and heard the wind ruffle branches, heavy with billowy pink blossoms. You drew in a breath, and the slightest, sweet smell, faintly of lilacs, caressed your lungs.

You stood in a tunnel of Cherry Blossom trees. Looking up, a blue sky veined the pink canopy.

Like making a wish on a dandelion clock, the petals blew away from their branches, and drifted around you as pink snow.

It was exactly as you remembered it—as if you had stepped into the memory itself. Third Street Park in Macon.

Happiness—golden, wonderful happiness gave you wings. You felt so light on your feet.

But as you looked around, you didn’t see Henry, and your smile faded. Your heart hesitated. “Henry?”

“I’m here.”

And then you were okay, relieved, at the sound of his voice—soft and comforting. Since you met him, you often felt strange, or abandoned, without his nearness. You had longed for people before, but not like this.

You turned, and he stepped toward you, holding all of his tenderness for you in his eyes. How blue, how much brighter they were because of you—like the wings of a morpho butterfly.

“How are you—how is this possible?”

Henry’s eyes dropped, and you looked down to his overturning wrist. He pulled away his sleeve, unveiling bolded numbering against a map of blue veins.

001.

You understood now. They took him because he was just like the children. Except, he was patient zero. The first of them.

You held his wrist, thumb grazing the numbers. Your brow furrowed as you remembered all his pain associated with that branding.

“It’s alright,” Henry murmured, reaching his free hand up to cup your face.

You nuzzled his hand, touching your lips to his palm.

Around you, petals gathered like snowflakes, carpeting the ground in pink. Some clung to your hair, and his golden waves.

He rested his forehead against yours, your noses kissing. “It’s you and me now. I’ll keep you safe.”