#/cries in fiction-induced feelings

[pencilofawesomeness]

They kept Leona’s hands mostly free so that they could throw Riddle at him. Still, he had to jerk on the manacle connecting him to a stake in the corner of that miserable tent just so that he could catch the kid and not let him hit the dirt first.

“Riddle? Riddle, do you hear me?”

He knew it was going to be bad. He didn’t trust them enough for it not to be. That didn’t mean he was prepared to see him with those half-lidded blank eyes, nearly dead to the world, blood coating his skin like the phlegm of a newborn, large red welts arced all across his back. Leona held him there, almost forgetting to breathe himself, his blood quickly covering his hands, but there was nothing he could do that would help in a way that mattered. He just…used a little healing magic. There was only so much he could do, without a stone and with too much blot accumulation already, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about the eyes of the guard staring at him, either.

From Chapter 6 of And You Think, “No Escape” by @therosefrontier

----

Rosebud’s fic has given me extreme brainrot so I turned around and drew this after the scene made permanent residence in my brain. It’s so good guys. I’m not okay /pos

Bad times for the boys in the Kidnapped Corner, for sure. Riddle’s scene broke my heart, and Leona trying his best to care for him swept all the pieces into a little pile. These two. These two. ;-;

[laios-thorden]

To them [people who don't read horror] it is a kind of pornography, inducing horripilation instead of erection. And the reader who appears to relish such sensations-why he's an emotional masochist, the slave of an unholy drug, a decadent psychotic beast.

-David Aylward

horror is about catharsis. it is about experiencing fear or pain or shame or suffering via a piece of media, and being able to sigh in relief when it is done. it is about emotion and flesh and the human condition.

the point of the genre of horror is to inflict the emotion called "fear" or the related emotions "discomfort," "disgust" and "shame." if you do not want to experience and explore negative emotions and the stories that they can tell, you do not actually want to engage with horror. the point of horror is that it might make you feel bad or upset or, god forbid, scared. there are stories that rely on that and it doesn't make horror a lesser medium for narrative than any other genre. it just means that you personally might not enjoy horror.

it's fine to not like horror, but don't pretend like it's something it's not because it makes you uncomfortable.

a lot of takes about horror i see are like, "why doesn't horror have x, y, or z" and the answer is it does. you aren't engaging with the medium or searching out stories that have those things because you don't want to deal with the trappings of the genre (being scared/experiencing negative emotions). liking one piece of horror media doesn't mean engaging with the genre as a whole with all its tropes, trappings, and its rich and varied history.

Ursula K Le Guin writes,

A writer sets out to write science fiction but isn’t familiar with the genre, hasn’t read what’s been written. This is a fairly common situation, because science fiction is known to sell well but, as a subliterary genre, is not supposed to be worth study—what’s to learn? It doesn’t occur to the novice that a genre is a genre because it has a field and focus of its own; its appropriate and particular tools, rules, and techniques for handling the material; its traditions; and its experienced, appreciative readers—that it is, in fact, a literature. Ignoring all this, our novice is just about to reinvent the wheel, the space ship, the space alien, and the mad scientist, with cries of innocent wonder. The cries will not be echoed by the readers. Readers familiar with that genre have met the space ship, the alien, and the mad scientist before. They know more about them than the writer does.

the same is true for horror; people who do not engage with horror as a medium, as a genre, as a way to tell stories and convey meaning do not get to reinvent the wheel. doing so won't be met with gratitude by people who do like horror. it's not helpful. it's condescension.

[bharatiya-naari-sab-pe-bhaari]

So I have been writing something on the mahabharata and thought to go through some of the popular media versions for inspiration.

[Instant regret intensifies]

I mean sometimes versions of the same thing might inspire you to do something different, I guess. I mean that was my logic but...hoooo mannn.. these are not different interpretations of the epic, these are like the Adipurush script writers had sold whatever they were smoking to the makers of all the tv versions.

I need brain bleach for atleast ninety percent of them.

I'll tell you what my opinions are (I just need to rant, please bear with me)

The StarPlus Mahabharata:

The Good:

Everyone (almost) looks good. Like casting was top notch. Eye candies walking around. The dialogues were pretty good. Some of their creative liberties hit the spot. It was the nicest version made tbf. And also, the best damned decision, SRJ as Krishna. (Say that again with me)

The Bad:

Inaccuracies galore. Also, stop simping so much on Karna. It looks pathetic. Arjun was charming alright but they managed to cut his badass skills to less than a half. My girl...Subhadra. What the hell did they do to you!!!! I hated how they showed her. The casting, the character arc... bleahhh! Duryodhan looked like a cartoonish villain and had little to no depth and Ashwatthama....whyyyyy *cries*

The RadhaKrishna Mahabharata:

The Bad:

Fucking everything. What was the casting? And why did everyone look so miniature? Except Karna and Bheem.. those dudes looked old. The story was shit. Even with their thousand and one fictional overtures. (What the hell was Krishna doing in Matsya during Virataparvam???). Kunti was a typical sasu mom villain. Arjun was a wimp.

The Good:

Sumedh is funny. And the guy playing Arjun looked like a baby. I wanted to pull his cheeks every time he came on screen (I dunno if that is good or just sweet). The only likeable scene was prolly Drau-Arjun making heart eyes at each other in that Mandir (cute couply moment and the bgscore is likable). Subhadra had some personality.

Sony's Suryaputra Karna :

:)

:)

The makers smoked weed and some combination of technicolour inducing hallucinogenic (most likely sourced from the Adipurush script writers)

:)

:)

WHAT THE EVER LOVING MIND FUCK WAS THAT?

See, I liked SP's Mahabharata's Karna (Aham Sharma.. ahem ahem) because of the creative liberties taken by the makers to make him likable. I didn't mind all of the inaccuracies. But this? THIS?

[*vomit inducing everything*]

The only two good things :- Dury was handsome (eye candy purposes) and Gautam Rode met his wife (can't help being starry eyed over meet cutes).

Karnasangini

See, at this point, I didn't go there expecting any canonical accuracy but just for creative purposes.

Good:

The sets were pretty. These dudes have money and they showed it (very cleverly copying Ek Dil ek Jaan music by changing the lyrics for Karn-Uruvi bgscore, they thought we won't notice, but we did) so everything was eye pleasing. Bhanumati was again... eye candy pretty. Karna himself (Asim Gulati meri jaan), too tragically pretty. I think this Arjun (baby but with beard, lmfao) was also the same guy as Radhakrishna MB.

Bad:

Uruvi (and I swear its not because I can't tolerate Tejaswini). The girl was the most annoying mc to have ever been written. I couldn't feel anything for her. I couldn't understand jack of what she ever did or spoke. The hypocrisy was sky high.

PS:- I would have totally enjoyed watching a version of Karna's life and the Kauravas pov of the mahabharata, had they made it properly (not whitewashing everyone on their side with fucking plaster while turning the Pandavas into cartoony villains.. sigh). Also I think, this one was adapted from the Kavita Kane book.

--------------------------------------------

One liners on the book [because, why not]

Arjun Without A Doubt (Sweety Shinde) :-

Literally ArDi fanfiction straight out of wattpad (just better writing to be completely fair) and the authot hated everyone else except Krishna.

Karna's Wife, The Outcast's Queen (Kavita Kane) :-

Could have been interesting had the writing not been so bad. Cartoony antagonist and protagonists and completely amateurish plot creation.

The Fisher Queen's Dynasty (Kavita Kane):-

I actually liked this one. It was a refreshing take on characters not usually written of.

The Rise of Hastinapur, The Winds of Hastinapur, The Rise of Hastinapur (Sharath Komarraju) :-

I liked his style and his storytelling. Wouldn't be everyone's cup of tea though. The characters are very controversially written. (Also, trilogy on the women of mahabharat.. count me in)

The Palace of Illusions (Chitra Banerjee Divakurni) :-

I had high expectations from her but... it fell flat on its face. This was the worst portrayal of Draupadi I have ever come across, anywhere, across any platforms.

The Amar Chitra Katha comics :-

Some of the most authentic retellings of the epic and I truly enjoyed going through all the individual copies and also the full three set volume they had.

The Song of Draupadi (Ira Mukhoty) :-

I loved this one. Very opinionated and very open to interpretation as well. It was a good read.

PS :- I haven't read any of Devdutt Patnaik's books (tbh I dont like the guy very much, as little as I know him from interviews on the internet) and I want to read Ajaya but haven't got around to it. Any more books that I should check out?

-------------------------------------------

PPS :- All of this has been written from a creative point of view. I did not see any of them for getting to see the actual mahabharata. It was mostly for fun. But now I wish people would make more individual versions of other characters depicting their story (EXCEPT FUCKING KARNA again)

[thedemonofcat]

Lately, I've delved into the series Dirk Gently (a show I wholeheartedly recommend). Within its episodes, there exists a fascinating fictional ailment known as Pararibulitis, a nerve disorder that induces excruciating hallucinations, so vividly real to those afflicted. Surprisingly, this concept seems underutilized in fanfiction, sparking the gears of my creative writer's mind. And thus, here's what emerged from its depths.

Throughout Jaskier's formative years, he was incessantly reminded of an affliction that plagued him—a condition that caused vivid hallucinations, so tangible and lifelike in his perception. As a result, Jaskier's parents became overly cautious and overprotective, their concern suffocating him as time passed. Feeling trapped by their well-meaning yet stifling sheltering, Jaskier ultimately resolved to escape his confined existence and embark on a journey as a wandering bard.

As Jaskier embarks on his travels alongside Geralt, he endeavors to conceal his affliction, a challenging task when unpredictable attacks can strike at any moment. One fateful day, as their campsite serves as the backdrop, Jaskier finds himself ensnared in an attack where a gust of wind transforms into a swarm of buzzing bees. Overwhelmed and distressed, Jaskier's screams fill the air, leaving Geralt desperate to find a way to soothe the bard or, at the very least, cease his agonized cries. In a moment of quick thinking, Geralt employs the power of Axii, casting it upon Jaskier, gently coaxing him into a peaceful slumber.

Upon awakening, Jaskier realizes the need to disclose the details of his condition to Geralt. However, to his astonishment, Geralt reassures Jaskier that he isn't sick, as the witcher's keen senses would have detected any ailment by scent alone. Instead, after witnessing Jaskier's distressing episode, Geralt discerned a different essence in the air. Rather than the odor of illness, he detected the unmistakable presence of magic lingering in the aftermath of the bard's attack

Jaskier, attempting to counter Geralt's assertion, insists that he lacks any trace of magic within him. However, Geralt counters, suggesting that Jaskier's true nature may be that of a magical being rather than a human mage. Intrigued by this possibility, they embark on a shared journey to unravel the mystery of Jaskier's identity. Their path is far from smooth, marked by numerous highs and lows, including a heartbreaking separation atop a treacherous mountain.

Eventually, fate leads them to Kaer Morhen, where a pivotal moment unfolds. Jaskier falls victim to a vicious attack as he consumes food tainted with maggots attempting to burrow into his flesh. To his astonishment, he discovers that everyone else present can see the vile creatures as well. The revelation of Jaskier's true nature appears imminent, as the secrets of his existence are on the verge of being unveiled

It is revealed that Jaskier is, in fact, a changeling, and his seemingly debilitating attacks are manifestations of his untamed magic. As a Fae, Jaskier possesses the extraordinary ability to manipulate nature according to his desires. However, being a changeling, he has long been unaware of his true potential and lacked control over his powers.

Recalling his earliest attack, Jaskier vividly remembers feeling overwhelmed and frightened, while his mother, aware of his true nature, attempted to reassure him that the illusions he witnessed were not real. It becomes apparent that Jaskier's parents swiftly discovered the switch between their child and the changeling but, despite this revelation, they continued to deeply care for Juilan (Jaskier) and decided to keep his true identity a secret. To shield Jaskier and prevent anyone, including Jaskier himself, from uncovering the truth about his fae lineage, they chose to fabricate an illness as a cover-up, preserving the façade of normalcy

As the truth about Jaskier's fabricated life sinks in, a whirlwind of emotions engulfs him, leaving him unsure of how to process the revelation. However, Geralt steps forward, extending a heartfelt promise that shatters Jaskier's doubts. Assuring him that he has never been a lie, Geralt's words embrace Jaskier with a newfound sense of comfort and acceptance.

With this reassurance, Jaskier resolves to embrace his true identity and seeks to master his extraordinary powers. Determined to gain control over his abilities, he sets forth on a journey of self-discovery and growth. In a touching display of unwavering support, Geralt pledges to stand by Jaskier's

[saspitite]

Empty

back with another writing piece (i mean, in a "non traditional" format but still)!! its for my flight rising clan lore.

it's about the topic of empathy vs compassion, something im very passionate(ha) about as an autistic person. i frankly hate how people are so commonly demonized for having/expressing low empathy and i felt like expressing my feelings on the matter here. enjoy :)

content warnings for: potentially disturbing themes and mentions of death/murder, mainly. also the beginning might induce paranoia for some, and i want to preface by saying that the statement at the beginning is completely fake and part of the fiction. please proceed with caution or scroll past if you're susceptible to that kind of stuff.

Monitor receivers picked up unusual activity yesterday at 17:38, unfinished_room A3. Unusual activity is to be archived and uploaded to the Security Monitor II designated audio file compartment.

These files are only to be accessed by authorized personnel. Any suspicion that information has been transferred to unauthorized third parties will be immediately followed by termination of all parties involved.

Do not bypass this warning screen.

I’m just trying to do my job.

> Can I talk to you?

> Go ahead.

> It’s about something that happened. Earlier. You're the only person I feel like I can trust with these kinds of things...

> How 'early' ago was it?

> Two hours and thirty-five minutes ago. Ugh, I hate that I can just… do that now.

> What happened? Was anyone hurt? Does anyone need medical attention?

> …Not anymore.

> Explain.

> …You have to promise you won’t hate me, Bloody.

> Hate?

> …

> I frankly have seen too much to be disturbed these days. I can’t imagine anything you do would make me hate you. I haven’t felt hatred for anyone else in a while, really.

> …

> I’m not convincing, I know. Really, you have nothing to lose but your job, and knowing this shithole, I have a feeling you’d see that as a bonus.

> Alright. Well. I watched someone die.

> …Did you, now?

> It couldn’t have been my fault. I just couldn’t do anything about it.

> And you’re aware they are capable of bringing the dead back to life?

> That’s the thing. They aren’t gonna do that.

> Ah.

> She’s gone forever.

> Are you alright?

> …

> Well. 

> To be honest, I’ve felt nothing.

> So that’s why you look worried.

> It can’t be normal.

> From what I’ve heard, no.

> It can’t be right.

> What is “right”?

> I should have cried. Everyone was.

> Not everyone does.

> I should have saved her.

> But could you?

> I can’t be a good person.

> Are you not listening to me, CF?

> …

> Sorry.

> So, you felt nothing but wanted to do something?

> I didn’t do anything.

> But you wanted to.

> I guess.

> So what do you think makes you a bad person?

> Well… I felt nothing. That’s horrible… isn’t it? I felt nothing when I should’ve felt something. I should’ve cried. I should’ve screamed. I should be shaken by the fact that I’ll never hear her voice again. I just feel nothing.

> Why didn’t you save her?

> I’m supposed to be a weapon. That’s my purpose. I can't save people. They might think I'm useless.

> Did you kill her?

> No. I could only watch.

> Did you want to?

> Of course not.

> Then let me ask again: why do you think you’re a bad person?

> I felt nothing.

> And yet you knew it was wrong. You wanted to do something.

> I was too much of a coward to do anything.

> Then your worst crime is simply being a coward.

> But it can’t be normal to feel nothing.

> Well, I guess it isn’t. But that doesn’t make it bad, does it?

> I don’t know. I still think it’s bad.

> Here. I have an example for you.

> Two men watch a dog get run over by a car. One man has empathy but no compassion. The other has compassion but no empathy.

> The first man feels overwhelming sadness and grief for the dog, but walks along and moves on with his day, deciding not to interact with the situation any further. The second man doesn’t feel much of anything personally, but knows that the right thing to do is to immediately identify and contact the owner of the dog, and then bring the dog to a medical professional if necessary. Who do you think did the “right thing”?

> …

> …Probably the second man.

> So you understand. The fact of the matter is that, no matter how sorry one may feel, their internal emotions will do nothing to help an outside situation compared to the actions they decide to take. You seem to have a lack of empathy, but your compassion for others exists despite that. I still think you’re a good person, CF.

> …But I didn’t do anything. I let her die. I was too much of a fucking coward to do anything.

> You wanted to do something. You didn’t because you were scared. You still had that desire to help, did you not? You aren’t a bad person. You’re just scared.

> …

> I get scared all the time, too. It makes me do some shit I seriously regret. But it’s inevitable, all living beings are just like that. We’re driven by fear.

> …I’m scared.

> Of…?

> I’m scared that I feel nothing. I’m scared that I’ll continue to feel nothing. I’m scared of being… empty.

> I understand.

> I just don’t know. What should I do if I continue to feel nothing? 

> …Live. If the world moves on, so will you.

Recording end. 8 minutes 26 seconds.

[bookaddict24-7]

REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Books I’ve read so far in 2023!

Friend me on Goodreads here to follow my more up to date reading journey for the year!

___

22. Fairy Tale by Stephen King--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I've been meaning to pick up FAIRY TALE since the day it came out because it looked so interesting and so different from a lot of King's stories--although I know that he tends to write in different genres (even if they're all put in the horror section in bookstores.) I've had many talks about King with my friends and you know, his writing in the past may have been very polarizing, but this book was a whole other level of Stephen King (in the best way possible). This was an epic fantasy novel with some incredible imagery, world building, and slower cadence writing that King is notorious for in his storytelling. Also, the descriptions of the people the MC encounters in this twisted world were incredibly vivid and memorable--at times even shiver-inducing. Also, much like a couple of other books by him, I cried. Listen, you can't help but get invested in some of the less permanent characters because King writes them in such a way that you can't help but feel an emotional connection with them. One of the things I love about King's writing and why I always find myself falling so readily into his tomes is that he knows how to really pace a story. He creates and weaves worlds together the way only an expert can and then slowly lets the story bloom until the very last page. This felt like such a special story because of that. Unlike other fantasy books, our MC isn't the typical hero. He was more of a grey-area hero when he needed to act in dangerous situations--or at least, he made it very clear to the reader that he wasn't the hero everyone thought he was. He has his dark moments (especially when they're needed) and his imperfections make him more relatable as a lead. And while there are definitely some older moments that challenge the young MC (he was 18, I believe, or close to it), we definitely get to see where his age shines through (for example, who he falls for and how he handles that, and how he deals with the pressures of living up to a promise that feels nearly impossible to live up to.) I loved that vulnerability because it reminded me, as the reader, that this is still a child caught up in an adult situation (violence and responsibility-wise). The side characters were great, especially the puppers--Radar was the cutest little pup and I never expected to feel so invested in her fictional well-being. If you are going into this expecting a typical King horror novel--this isn't it. Instead, King has crafted a standalone fantasy that will leave you with an odd sense of nostalgia and bittersweet happiness both because it's over, AND because you were able to experience it. While it had some cool moments and some King awkwardness (because really, is it a King book without an awkward moment near the end?--but nothing as creepy as IT, promise), FAIRY TALE was not just a story of an older teenage boy setting out to save his best friend and potentially an unknown world, it's a story about growing up, making the expectations placed on you adapt to who you are as a person, and the complexities of relationships that we build on our journey to growing up. It is about goodbyes and hellos; about hope and grief and the understanding that staying static in life is no way to live. FAIRY TALE was about a boy who experienced trauma at a young age, met someone he showed an unimaginable level of compassion for, and as a result, had a life-changing opportunity thrown at him. I loved this book very much, if you can't tell.

___

23. Even Though I Knew the End by C.L. Polk--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

One of my friends read this one earlier this year and I decided to give it a shot because it sounded really good. I'm starting to love the shorter books because of how concise the stories are and how to the point the plots can be because you have less time to showcase the story for the reader. EVEN THOUGH I KNEW THE END was a very enjoyable read. I loved the main character's sass and how she fought for the love she shared with the woman she was destined to live the rest of her life with. I thought their relationship was a beautiful contrast to the idea that life is short so what is the point? Meaning, I love that despite the MC knowing that her life was going to be quite short, she still decided to find her happiness--even if it might be hard-won at the end of the day. I really enjoyed this and I thought the emotions were palpable. I thought the concept was quite unique, especially the MC's partner in crime as she strives to solve the murder mysteries popping up in the city. I'd definitely recommend this--especially if you want more sapphic fantasy that dabbles a little with horror. The ending alone is worth it and offers a strange sense of hope that love can possibly overcome anything, even death and grief. (Not a spoiler)

___

24. Water Bound by Christine Feehan--⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

WATER BOUND had a few things going for it that I enjoyed, but a couple of not so great things on my end that just happened to be bad timing for this reading experience. I found myself falling into a bit of a reading slump right around the time I started reading this, so every time I started the audiobook, I immediately wanted to do something else...or I wanted to write. But despite all of these things and the books I DNF'ed right before starting WATER BOUND, I finished it and enjoyed it for what it was. I really liked the suspense aspect of this book, especially after the twist that helped explain it all. It was interesting and I always forget how enticing Feehan's writing can be when it comes to that element of her storytelling. I also liked the mystery surrounding the second narrator, especially when I realized that I had met him before in a much later book series by Feehan. Even though this is the first in this series, it's still very clear that I need to read more books before it. On one hand, that was a little frustrating because it felt like I was missing key connections and easter eggs that sometimes makes authors like this one so fun to read. But on the other hand, these constant allusions and references made me want to read the other books BECAUSE I JUST WANT TO KNOW IT ALL. I LOVED that the female MC is on the autistic spectrum because I love seeing this representation in romance novels. I always find that the way the story looks through their perspective is both fascinating and beautiful. The male MC however was a little meh, to be completely honest. Feehan's male characters are always so intense from the get-go that it takes a while to get used to them. I did love, however, how he is with the female MC and the connection they share. The magic of their abilities was more pronounced in this book and their interactions surrounding their magic was made more beautiful by that relationship of respect that they cultivated. Will I read the second book in this series? Probably. Even if they're not perfect reads, I do enjoy Feehan's writing and the potential each book offers.

___

25. Princess in Pink by Meg Cabot--⭐️⭐️⭐️

The more I read this series, the more I realize how awful Mia's best friend is. I think that's one of the main things I remember about this book (since I'm writing this review a month later and I barely remember what it was about.) I do remember being a little frustrated, not just with Mia and Michael, but also with the idea that so many people call her annoying and whiny and completely forgetting that she is...fifteen. She is literally a child who can't help but think that she wants this magical night at prom with her older boyfriend before he heads off to college. (Let's not comment on the creepy age gap, again, because Michael actually comments on how he knew the age gap would present issues down the line.) I totally forgot to mention this because these books are kind of forgettable: There was a completely horrible conversation about Autism in this book. It both really dated this series and gave me such a sour taste of the ignorance surrounding Autism. It shows how much more has come to light in the years since this series came out. I'm going to continue reading this series, but I also have to occasionally remind myself that Mia is fifteen, going through a tumultuous high school experience, and is constantly trying to navigate the tricky world of relationships (both with her older boyfriend and her bitch of a best friend.)

___

26. American Predator by Maureen Callahan--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I heard about this book on the clock app after a true crime lover recommended it and said it gave her nightmares. I've been into true crime since I was a teenager and while I don't listen to a lot of the podcasts anymore, I know a bit about serial killers and crimes that have haunted North America for decades. This is all to say that I recognized this case before the details were revealed. I've always been fascinated to see what makes these people tic because they're so far removed from the way I view the world. I wouldn't call this a book that would give me nightmares, but that's mainly because I've learned about other stories that were a lot more terrifying. The expectation of being scared is what lowered my rating, but the rest of this book was intriguing--especially when one thinks about all of the unanswered questions we are left with in the end. Callahan presents a great true crime read and I think it is one of those where the reality of how truly lucky someone has to be to catch one of these kinds of serial killers. They're so good at hiding their crimes and any evidence that might be left behind. I couldn't help but think about all of the unsolved murders and the missing people who have never been found. I think that's the scariest part of a story like this one--the idea that some serial killers have never been caught because they are always adamant on keeping their crime scenes without any clues. And let me be clear: this guy only got caught because of mistakes. Think of those who don't make any mistakes in their careers as serial killers. I'd recommend this to true crime fans simply because of that last sentence I've just written. At the end of the day, it makes you wonder: how much do you really know the person standing beside you?

___

27. Suburban Hell by Maureen Kilmer--⭐️⭐️⭐️

I went into SUBURBAN HELL knowing that two of my friends had recently read it and hadn't enjoyed it. I was skeptical, but I'll admit that I actually enjoyed the experience. It wasn't the best horror book I've ever read, but I found it entertaining. I think it might have hit better if I was a mom stuck at home with a world that repeats itself every day. I love a good haunting and this delivered some fun moments that I think would translate well to a campy horror movie. The creeping sense of dread mixed really well with the monotonous life of a suburban family, and the main character's growing unease was very well shown--even as her life continued on as normal while her friend was rotting away in her demonic filth. I do think there was more focus on the minutiae of a stay at home mom. While I think that was the point and the horror of it all is the things moms sometimes need to do to keep the peace going, or what some moms need to do to fit in with the other moms, it made for an occasionally draggy read. One of my friends mentioned that this was a boring read and I'm torn because on one hand, I agree, and on the other, I am on the fence because the boring aspects of it I think were intentional. I think this book definitely had potential for MORE. I think the horror and terror aspects were a little underused, especially the really cool concept. This was a fun read, but it did this weird thing where it moved both too quickly and too slowly: the possession was a little quick, but the surrounding storyline was too slow. Anyway, this wasn't a favourite but I didn't hate it. I'm curious to see what else Kilmer writes!

___

Have you read any of these books? Let me know your thoughts!

___

I went through a weird time the last few months, which including a reading and blogging slump. Will hopefully return to posting my reviews and posts!

___

Happy reading!

[masterthespianduchovny]

I hate hearing Reddit talk about Kim and her relationship/feelings for Jimmy.

Seriously.

They position it as if she doesn’t care about Jimmy and only gets off on the cons she rarely pulls with him. And it’s like, who the fuck marries someone they’ve pulled a total of two cons with if they’re so hot and bothered by conning? As of now the total is three cons.

But, oh, Kim doesn’t really care for Jimmy like that and she isn’t really in love with him, despite her canonically losing her shit the most when it comes to defending him.

She finds and confronts Lalo when she hasn’t heard back from Jimmy when she was supposed to. She later confronts him again when he comes to their apartment to question Jimmy about his story.

And Kim KNEW this man was a dangerous killer. One she warned him not to get involved with.

When Jimmy returns home relatively unharmed, she cried tears of relief and joy.

If anyone even dares utter a bad word about Jimmy or insults him she fucking tears them to shreds even if she knows there’s some truth in there somewhere.

And don’t you dare blame anything of Jimmy that isn’t his fault!

Kim doesn’t fuck around about Jimmy!!!

They want to say the only time we see affection between them is after a con and it’s like…that’s not true.

People are confusing the displays of affection during cons as her desire for him only being triggered by cons. Like, there’s definitely something going on there, but Kim cares deeply for Jimmy, is in love with him, and is attracted to him without the con aspect.

Yeah, the fuck on the couch after successfully making Howard humiliate himself, but then again, how can that bit be adrenaline inducing?

However, they also kiss unexpectedly when cliff offers her a meeting with that group to help the less privilege (yes, she later cancels, but I think there’s more going on that we don’t know about yet about Kim).

People think kissing, sex, and uncontrolled passion is all there is to prove you love someone.

Yet, look at the quiet and intimate moments between them. How their love language is take out food, watching movies and drinking wine, and sharing cigarettes.

How, no matter how upset they are with each other, they always come through for one another and have each other’s backs.

It’s insane to me that people doubt Kim’s feelings for Jimmy as if she didn’t curse Howard out for that shit he pulled after Chuck died. And that was all in the defense of Jimmy.

God, she comes off as such a loner and someone wanting to do good that she dedicates all of herself to her work, but—but she decided to be with Jimmy and share her life with him. She attaches herself to the hip with him and doesn’t shy away from the fact that they’re together, then…that’s he’s her husband.

No one can shame her about the man she married. No one can talk down on him without getting reamed. No one can threaten him without her trying to protect him however she can.

And she’s not really in love with him???

This is all because she gets off on conning?

Although she may be fictional, Kim wexler has a lot of complexities that those trying to analyze her do not. 🥱

[acewithapaintbrush]

I just randomly remembered that time I was at a friend's house and the Alf series finale was supposed to air so I asked if we could watch it because I had been such a fan, like watching all the episodes multiple times and reading the books and having cassettes and everything. And she didn't watch it but was like "OK sure."

And I think we all know how the series ended and I kept it together long enough to escape to her room and she followed me and saw that I was crying. Wailing practically. And she's agast like "Are you crying? Seriously??? It's just a TV show!"

"Why did they end it like this??? What is going to happen to him???"

She didn't understand my outburst at all and in the end I insisted on going home immediately where I cried some more.

Thinking back on it now, this was my first fandom induced breakdown over a horrible ending and also my first incline that not everyone feels as strongly about fictional characters as I did...

[dhampiravidi]

I have something to admit

I don’t think anybody not on Tumblr is gonna understand (has to do w/comfort characters) so here we go.

Basically, in middle school, I discovered my depression & had toxic relationships (unrequited crushes, them receiving) with some people. Then I went to HS @ 12. I was a fucking mess who either cried or had an angry fit every day until junior year. For some reason, there were days where I’d cry myself to sleep at home and dream of Jace Herondale, a fictional character. Nothing explicit, just pure fluff. Us fighting off monsters while flirting. Us walking around, holding hands. So I’d wake up happy.

Now I’m at a place where my mental illness is sort of at a standstill and I have multiple (4, maybe 5) conditions to seek treatment for. I haven’t had a happy Jace dream since maybe junior year of uni. Tbh, I haven’t had a happy dream w/o some kind of anxiety- or irritation-inducing thing in it since then. Anyway, it’s gotten to the point where 1) I have a shit ton of free time to write so I’m really trying to get good/confident enough to write my own novel, 2) if I don’t write I fall victim to my narcolepsy which fucks w/my overall sleep schedule, 3) Jace is a comfort character. #3 sucks because I loved the 1st book series but I’m not super interested in the sequels (same way that I feel about Percy Jackson shhh), every time I see Clace content (which is canon & shoved into anything he is mentioned in) I get a little sad, and I SIGH when I think about the movie that probably spawned a great adaptation series in an alternate universe 😭 yeah so, I feel dumb, not to mention lonely & completely unlovable (but that last part is a whole other thing).

I guess I’m gonna end this by thanking you all (especially my mutuals who I spam) for putting up w/me. If you’re part of the TMI/TSC fandom and you don’t mind playing the Jace to my salty lil assassin half-fey OC Jasmine…HMU.

[journalofsorts2]

i've been a lot quicker to tears as of late. i'm not sure why. i've been told over and over again that starting testosterone makes it harder to cry, and for the first couple months that was definitely true. but now i feel like i'm crying over everything. or i guess everything non important. i've cried while playing video games at least ten times this past week. i cried when i was listening to music, nothing sad even, it was splatoon. i cried when i was looking at art i really liked. i cried when i got a package in the mail. i cried when i took a shower. i cry at the stupidest things lately and i'm not sure what's wrong with me. i haven't been crying over the big things either. i just wrote that whole post about the way i feel towards my mom and not even a sniffle. normally something like that would've had me crying like a year ago. even the smallest hint of fiction-induced emotion has me crying but when i try and remember the actual real-life abuse i went through i'm so extremely neutral and it maddens me to no end. i want to cry when i talk about my mom, i want to sob thinking of how my mother utterly ruined my self esteem. i want to stop awkwardly laughing and smiling like an idiot when i try and recount how my first ever memory is of her abuse. i don't want to cry over fictional characters and their relations in the narrative. i don't want to cry when i put on a splatoon cd. what i want more than anything is to not be so medication and therapy resistant. my body chemistry doesn't mix with a whole bunch of antidepressants and the ones that won't genuinely fuck me up have little to no effect. i have tried therapy over and over again and everytime i can't fucking bring myself to actually say anything of importance. i know what's wrong with me and i know what caused it and i spend too much time successfully introspecting for therapists to actually do anything im not already doing myself. i want therapy and medication to magically bring back my memories. i want to remember all the things i forgot and then i can handle the rest from there. maybe if i could remember the full picture i'd be able to actually cry about it.

[so-true-overdue]

Unveiling the Mind-Boggling Truth: An Angsty Teen's Revelation

Have you ever wondered about the bizarre and mind-boggling truths that the world has to offer? Well, brace yourselves folks, because I, an angsty teen with an inexplicably heightened sense of disillusionment, am about to share with you a random, obscure, and totally unbelievable fact that will blow your mind – or maybe not. Prepare to have your reality shattered as I unveil this incredible truth: plants actually have feelings! Yes, you heard it right! Who would have thought that those innocent, green creatures sitting quietly in your garden would possess emotions? But don't worry, it's not like we're chopping onions or anything here. Picture this: you're out on a sunny day, walking amidst the enchanting wonders of nature, when suddenly, you hear a faint cry. You stop in your tracks, bewildered. Now, you might assume it's just the wind rustling through the leaves, but hold your horses, my skeptical friends! Those are the anguished cries of the plants! It turns out that plants, in their silent, stationary existence, are capable of experiencing pain. And not just any pain – unimaginable agony that puts our own fleeting human sorrows to shame. We may think we're the alpha species, but let me tell you, the plants have been watching and waiting for their moment to reveal their emotional depth. Did you know that every time you pluck a flower, it lets out a tiny, inaudible scream? Oh, the horror! But do we care? Of course not! We continue to arrange them beautifully in vases, blissfully ignorant of the atrocities we're committing. Shame on us! Furthermore, plants not only feel pain, but they also have a secret network – an underground communication system, if you will. It's like the internet of the plant kingdom, except without memes. They exchange vital information, warnings, and even share nutrients through intricate fungal networks hidden beneath the soil. It's like a secret society conspiring against us! So, next time you take a stroll through nature's abundant playground, be cautious, my dear friends. Those swaying branches and blooming flowers may appear innocuous, but behind their delicate facade lies a realm of untapped emotions and complex networking systems. And remember, the truth is often stranger than fiction, especially when discovered by an angsty teenager who believes they've got it all figured out. Disclaimer: The author of this blog post cannot be held responsible for any nightmares, existential crises, or paranoia-induced plant hoarding that may result from this mind-blowing revelation. Proceed with caution, for you have now entered the twilight zone of teen angst and obscure truths.

[asahicore]

come to the conclusion i apperently didnt read this fic. SO HEAR U GO

That weekend, your parents ask you to do something about the cherries slowly starting to spoil in the fridge, so you put on your headphones and listen to an audiobook for entertainment, then get to pitting. It feels wrong to listen to The Kiss Quotient and its many smut scenes when your parents are coming and going out of the room, but what they don’t know won’t kill them; you just try to keep your reactions to a minimum during the extra spicy scenes.

HELLO ?!??!! SHES SO LMAOSHSKS. NAH I LAUGHED okay me personally enjoyed kiss quotient and rest of the three series. specially the next two talking about the struggles of autism or the how broad spectrum of autsim was. it was a good read for me from 2022. yeah... back to this tho. omg i might try this recipe off topic. It sounds good but ill end up eating the cherries cuz i love them.

If this were a cartoon or a 2012 teen show, you’d probably drop the pie tin, but thankfully, your hands aren’t that sweaty, and the shock of the man from the other day at the store being your neighbor isn’t that great, because of course, of course he’s your neighbor. You’re Y/N, after all; the almighty gods above would never let you have a boring, uneventful summer. Of course the hot new man in town is your neighbor.

can we talk bout these descriptions its so accurate like you just out do yourseld everytime ma'am. Its so attention grabbing. damn i regret not listening well during english lessons. i just wanna say to a masterpiece like this is SLAY THIS WAS SO GOOD SCRWAMINGSJSK i need to be able to go indept like how my eng teacher goes into dept about anytype of writing.

A walking wet dream. That’s what this man is. He’s walked right out of your deepest Wattpad-induced fantasies and into the house next door. Probably doesn’t help that you’d been listening to literary porn just fifteen minutes prior. 

SEE ITS SO PRECISE???? SO REAL??? hes so cute nervous plss

“My friends and I used to make stories about how this place is haunted, you know,” you say jokingly.

GHOST HUNTING FR

"We’ve been more roommates than a couple for the past six years. And you know, we kept on living together for Chaer mainly, but she’s found a new boyfriend and I wanted to have my own place. Which has led me here.”

its nice to see them on not bad terms

Your hot new neighbor was actually a DILF, you realized a bit inappropriately, perhaps. Cherry on top.

not the right time BABE 😭😭 BUT GO OFF

“You any good with kids?” he asks, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms and a smirk that makes your heart flutter.

hOON HMM YOU JUST MET HER WOAH WOAH.

“No one’s asking you to be that girl’s mom,” she says, dishing out some meat for the three of you. “I’d go get that man, if I were you.”

STOPDBDKD SO REAL OF HER 🗣🗣 SPEAK YOUR TRUTH BABE. omg HAHAHAA I LOVE THIS PART. IM SO SORRY BUT THIS ISNT EVEN FICTION THIS WHAT MY FRIENDS AND ME TALK ABOUT RANDONLY IM GOING TO CRY THIS IS FUNNY IN A GOOD WAY AND ENJOY IT

One afternoon, you’d made sure to go and sunbathe in your bikini at the exact moment he was doing some work outside, and even then, he merely gave your body a one-over and disappeared a few minutes later inside his house.

yes GIRLY GO OFF. SO GIRL BOSS YES YES GO BABE

It doesn’t help that you see his flexing, working muscles and beads of sweat on his hairline everyday.

he said two can play the game 💪💪

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I don’t know what came over me. We shouldn’t do this, it’s not- I shouldn’t have done that,” he sighs, looking defeatedly at the ground.

omg he :(( NO but i understand his pov on this moment omg

“If you swallow it, a tree will grow inside your belly and make you puke out cherries,” he’d lied when it was just the two of you at the outdoor table. 

every parent ever. i accidentally sallowed some seed and almost cried cuz i thought a plant will grow out of me ? I MEAN INSIDE OF ME 😭

Finally kissing him, and the next afternoon, you were browsing through the endless aisles of your local IKEA, holding his daughter’s hand and pretending like you hadn’t kissed her daddy.

nah babe yall are a couple now also. look at that "FAMILY" outting at IKEA...

He’s a really good dad, and that does nothing whatsoever to stop your DILF fantasies, although now, it’s really Sunghoon that you want, and the fact that he’s a dad isn’t a dealbreaker, it just makes him that much better.

SO TRUE AND SO REAL

“Are you sure about this? ‘Cause if you tell me that you want me… then I’ll be all yours, Sunghoon,”

If you concentrate you can hear me scream lose my shit over this line. Crying bleeding losing fighting throwing up climbing walls and umm drinking water. yes i feel extremely normal about this sentence.

currently scrwaming btw. im PMFYDHDJB AHHHVDIDIEK yes.

“That’s a good girl,”

HAHAHAAHHAAH (losing my mind fr) STOP THE WEEKND IS PLAYING on SHUFFLE UMM SPOTIFY KNOWS FR.

So, tell me, what’s your favorite position, princess?”

HELLONITS ALKOST 12 AM AND IM TRYING NOT TO SCREAM HELLODJDOS ONFUSKS HELLON!???! WEEKND PLAYING ISNT HELPING OMGSJS WOAH.

“Of course not. Is Heeseung your new dad?” he asks, mentioning his ex’s new boyfriend. Chaer shakes her head.“No. He’s Mommy’s boyfriend.” “Exactly, and Y/N is Daddy’s girlfriend. Isn’t she?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, smirking.

this part was funny hehehe

“My girls,”

HELLLO THATS SO CUTE SJNSNS OMFSUNDS I JUSGSIJS S CRYODND WHAT ONSISJSK I LOVEVYEH ENDINDG SM ITS LIKE IDNKDND SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR ENDINDS OPEN ENDED OR HAPPY ITS SO CUTE AND WHOLESPME I LOve iT AND I LIve FOR IT. Just SOOSHIDKD AHHHBSIHDKSN. OKAY GOODNIGHT ITS ALMOST 12 AM AND I HAVE WORK AS FIRST THING TMW

🍓 anon

🍓 anon as i type this i am buying a diamond ring to ask u to marry me..... OH MY GODDDDD

fun fact the whole kiss quotient audiobook thing is from my life lol i listened to the book and didnt love it.. literally loved stella but the male lead i forgot his name was so bleh just typical overprotective romance lead or wtv so i wasnt really planning on reading/listening mroe.. but if u think its worth it i might give it a shot

IM SO HAPPY U LIKE THE DESCRIPTIONS OMG <///3 i dont go into like detail or anythign ever but i do try to add funny (?) things or small descriptions here and there.. !!!!

ur right sunghoon asking her if shes good with kids on their second meeting is kinda wild 😭😭😭 mans has his priorities straight

"If you concentrate you can hear me scream lose my shit over this line. Crying bleeding losing fighting throwing up climbing walls and umm drinking water. yes i feel extremely normal about this sentence." this made me laugh soooo much oh my god

NOT THE WEEKND PLAYING DURING THE SMUT SCENE😭😭😭😭 ur fbi agent watching a little bit too closely at ur online activity

BAHAHA I HOPE UR WORK WENT WELL BUT OMG THANK U SO SO SO MUCH FOR THISSSSS I LOVE UUUUUUU

[slickshoesareyoucrazy]

I Can’t See Myself

So this post is going to be a ramble and a ride. Keep going at your own risk. I know maybe one of two of you have seen a version of this post before, but I also know at least one of you hasn’t. And I’m feeling it again. If I still had the old blog, maybe I’d be reblogging it with a bunch of tags, but instead I’m reposting it with edits.

I don’t feel the immediate desperation about writer’s block like I did in April and May of this year. It felt uncomfortable and even a little anxiety inducing for a while though. I’d say at least 6 months…probably longer. It was by far the longest I’ve had that feeling of, ‘Maybe I can’t do it at all anymore…maybe it’s never going to come back…maybe it’s just gone,’ without something shaking loose and getting better. I mean…that’s in a virtual lifetime of creating things. I’ve made up stories in my head my whole life that I can remember…but I just couldn’t do it for a year and a half. And it freaked me out a little. Part of that is the obvious creator angst that maybe a piece of me has disappeared or permanently malfunctioned or something. And part of it I’ve whined written about before in the post I’ll put up right next to this one, and my post ‘Next’. Maybe I’m not worth anything if I can’t produce something new for other people to consume.  Maybe I’m invisible if I can’t make something new and current all the time for other people to see. I dunno. It’s been a rough ride here for me the past year-ish to be honest. And while the shit I have bitched wrote about regarding writer’s block in the past is definitely bothering me and weighing on me, the biggest problem with the fiction drought is that I’m hurting and I can’t find a way to alleviate it, because I can’t see myself.

I’ve revealed this privately to a couple of friends in the past, and I think I may have answered some old blog prompt 5 years ago about journaling or something by saying that writing clarifies things for me, and I don’t really journal, but I do write essays on the blog and *I write fiction.* And writing fiction is therapeutic for me in this very strange but real way. I can’t see MYSELF out of a bad patch. I’ve never been able to do that. I need somebody to come rescue me (which J often does, and some close friends do sometimes too, and I am very grateful for them every day for this and many other reasons). BUT I almost always can see SOMEBODY ELSE out of a bad patch. This is a simultaneous honor and danger for me, because there are people who turn to me fairly easily and readily to help them deal with their bad shit once they know me a little. (I probably cried 10 times watching Encanto. Seriously.) They know I’ll listen. They know I don’t normally get Mean and Judgy about things. And they learn over time, normally, that if they ask me (they almost always have to ask me, because I’VE learned to not offer it without being asked…it takes a borderline or maybe even an actual emergent situation for me to just go in guns blazing), I’ll give them honest advice. I can almost always see a way out, and I like doing that…I like searching for the way out and I really like actually finding one. For SOMEBODY ELSE. (So if you’re a person who has ever been all, ‘Hey Walrus? Um…can you see a way out here?’ Don’t feel bad. I know I linked that song there, but my surface pressure always comes from the inside and explodes out; it doesn’t crush me from the outside.) So in this odd way, fiction is a tool for me. If I’m in a jam or feeling shitty and I don’t want to burden turn to J or a friend about my shit, I’d just make up somebody who was kinda like me and give them a problem that was kinda like mine and then I’d push them out of it. I could see myself through other people…imaginary people. When I had a friend reading through the things I’ve already created, I could see myself a bit in the old stuff, and it helped me get to a place where I did produce something new really pretty fast in August. I got reconnected with some pieces of myself I’d never felt good about writing about before. But now that friend has turned out to be fictional, even though they and I are both real people, and I can’t see myself in the old stuff anymore. And now I’m back to a place where I can’t see myself. Like…at all.

And now I’m going to do an abrupt shift to pandemic media consumption. I’m an American, and I’m a pronounced introvert with moderate to severe agoraphobia on a NON pandemic living day. Like…I’ve ALWAYS hated the fucking grocery store if you get what I’m saying. I’d honestly just stay in my house all the time if given the choice anyway. But that’s still not super good for me, and I’ve found that out in more ways that I’m comfortable with this year. Writer’s block is part of it, but another part of it which seems dumb on the surface but is looking and feeling very real now is that I’ve run out of media to consume without leaving my house. I appreciated people who have recommended new shows and new music and new things to read to me because honestly? The well is pretty dry at this point. I’ve found myself several times in the past 6 months scrolling through a streaming service, trolling for anything new, and saying to myself, ‘Seen it, seen it, seen it, will definitely trigger anxiety which is why I skipped it the last pass, seen it, seen it, seen it three times, seen it probably 20 times since 1990, will make me cry and who fucking needs THAT right now, seen it…’ And I watched a lot of shows I’d have otherwise not tried at all, because they were someone else’s favorites. That was fun at the time, but honestly...they weren’t my cup of tea. I enjoyed doing it, but I think I just mostly enjoyed being there to see someone else’s joy, which has always been awesome for me. So being American, you know what DOES show up new all the time? True crime shit. Oh here’s a new podcast/docuseries/docudrama/episode of 12 year old series about murder/marital infidelity/graft/fraud/catfishing/mass abuse scandals and coverups/cults. So J and I have (unfortunately?) consumed a lot of this kind of shit in the past year or two. Like…A LOT. And we find ourselves often listening or watching (or even reading) this stuff and I hear myself say this phrase to J at least twice a week: ‘I can’t see myself…<believing that person/going to another place with that person/marrying that person/dating that person/being friends with that person/doing business with that person/falling for that line/tolerating that behavior/ever treating a person like that/being violent in that situation/whatever>…’ But the important part of that is ‘I can’t see myself.’ And maybe the reason I can’t see myself doing any of the shit anybody on any of this ‘real’ media has done or is doing is because no one else sees me either. Maybe I really am invisible unless I’m producing something new for other people to consume and that’s current and pleasing or at least entertaining for other people to see. There’s this weird little wrinkle in the podcasts in particular where the podcast host/moderator has people who know the victim/survivor/main protagonist in the story describe that person for the audience to know them better. I’m not sure anyone could do that for me if I was ever murdered. Maybe not even J. He’s not all that great with words, to be honest. And I find myself wondering, ‘Does anybody actually see me? Could anyone describe me for Tiffany Reese or Keith Morrison?’ Maybe not. I can’t even see myself.

And then there’s this piece of every one of the abuse/murder ones at least where someone’s mom/sister/best friend/adult child/coworkers call law enforcement to report a problem. Something is wrong; I haven’t heard from <important person> in <amount of time, but this amount of time ranges from 1 hour later than I expected to see/hear from them and they aren’t answering their phone to a couple of days or weeks>, so they are either seriously injured, kidnapped, or dead. Go do something about it.’ So then I think if my kid was away at college or living his own life and something had happened to J? No one would ever notice I was gone. Even the most important connections I have in my life beyond that? No one would think anything bad had happened because they didn’t hear from me for weeks….months…years. Unless I was producing something new for them to consume; making something current and pleasing/entertaining for them to see. I don’t reach out to people unless I think I have something new or pleasing or entertaining or all of that for them to see and/or consume. I never have. Because I can’t see myself without it.

I don’t want anyone who actually reads this to think I’m having like a potential self harm episode coming up or anything, because I’m not. I promise. But I am really having a real hard time seeing myself right now. Or at least seeing myself in a good, positive way. Hearing someone you’ve become close to tell you all the things you’d worked for years to no longer believe about yourself and use as the words to beat yourself up with and accuse you of the very things past abusers told you about yourself over and over again reverses a lot of forward self esteem and seeing yourself progress. I can feel that I’ve lost ground in those areas. Everything I thought this person was helping me with has kind of been destroyed in the past month. The writing maybe wasn’t good; maybe I’m not good at it like I’d finally started to believe from other people telling me so. I’m actually not a good friend; not a good mom; not a good person, like I’d started to accept at least occasionally might be true when J or A or my son said it. Maybe I really can’t connect to other people in a real way; maybe I really am invisible; maybe I really am worthless if I can’t be of service. 

[andydelire]

Psychedelic Swamp

Week 10—Analog Horror

What is analog horror?

A semi-recent film genre that takes analog aesthetics and technology and uses fragments of realistic looking materials to tell a story or provoke a feeling often anxiety inducing or psychologically stimulating in a myriad of weird ways.     Today, the genre often is distributed via YouTube in short videos that interconnect into larger series, building a world through little bits of information at a time.

They often contain diegetic materials that go awry (when a sound or stimuli in a film is able to be heard/felt by characters). For example, Eckva is an analog horror film with early 2000s aesthetics that depicts a character who can gain access to a bizarre (fictional) T.V channel called Eckva, but it can only be tuned in to in a specific abandoned house.

Throughout the week I’ve been diving into Local 58 which is dubbed one of the more groundbreaking of the genre, but I wasn’t that impressed honestly until I hit Gemini Home Entertainment. This series nails the whole mis-en-scene with MIDI 90s music included. Each clip is like a bizarre Thomas Vinterberg home movie a la Festen (1998) combined with Dr. Dog’s Psychedelic Swamp vibes, which it never occurred to me, could perhaps be considered the first analog horror in the form of a rock n roll band’s concept album. Recorded in 1999-2000, Psychedelic Swamp (2001) follows the story of Phrases, who buys into a TV ad (similar to those in Gemini Home Entertainment) which here the product is really a means to magically make him go to a different dimension where he was told all his problems would go away, however, quickly he finds that the swamp is full of unsettling creatures and his anxieties only get worse. With the inability to communicate with the outside world, Phrases finds Scott Mcmicken, Toby Leaman and the rest of their Philadelphia basement friends via the airwaves, and eventually sends them a tape which needs to be decoded in the form of popular rock and roll music in order to be heard. The tape is a desperate plea for help and a warning message for the public to never buy into the Psychedelic Swamp advertisements because that place will ruin your life. Even just writing about this plot makes me realize more how scary that is and how the hyperdiegesis of the universe within creates both a realistic atmosphere while allowing the mechanisms of the form express themselves with no questions asked. The ads make sense, the MIDI music makes sense, the wailing cries from within, the wonky xylophones that act as frog’s lily pads, it’s all there like the color green on the walls of a sticky abandoned house, the faded wallpaper, the cut telephone line, the radio fuzzing in and out to an alternate dimension.        

Psychedelic Swamp exists in three albums and was performed in a play with Pig Iron Theater company in Philly.  

1. Released in 2001

2. Released in 2016

3. Released 2016, a few weeks later, and is a MIDI-fied version of the main tunes of the album.

A 2016 Dr. Dog contest: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eYB-xz5wZh8

The ad pokes at the itch to escape,“Reality is a scam for losers.”

So what is Dr. Dog trying to do with these 3 versions of the same album. One is lo-fi, janky a la Smiley Smile, Two is Hi-fi and poppy more rendered, and Three is a complete diegetic universe (like a day in the Swamp). 

[marmixedwithabitofintellect]

The Story of You

I am very sorry for the delay but here is the very much awaited Part 4! Things are starting to get interesting and if you get distracted you might miss them...

Come chat with me about your thoughts! All the love, Mar

Disclaimer: In no way do I wish to spread hate or negative opinions about any of the characters here depicted, this is just fiction and with the purpose of entertaining you guys

Part 4: Yearning

May 29, 2021: Twelve Weeks

Harry. Cheshire, England. 1:12 Am

I sighed after reading the message, I knew this couldn’t wait until the morning or else I wouldn’t be able to sleep, I checked the time in LA, it was around 5 back there, so she was probably home. I grabbed a jacket and put on my slippers before going downstairs.

I shot her a text to ask if she could talk now and as I was waiting for her reply, I decided to make myself a cuppa and grabbed a blanket, although it was still warm outside nights brought an uncomfortable chill with them.

I settled on the bench mom had in the corner of her garden and took a deep breath before dialing her number, it rang three times before she answered, “Hold on a second”, she must have blocked the microphone because I can hear her muffled voice telling the kids that she is busy and to go look for Babs, I then hear a door close and a sliding door open and close, she must have sat on the balcony couch.

“Hello love”, “Oh, now I am love? Are you serious Harry? What’s going on? You spent about two extra weeks in New York and then simply let me know that your plans changed, and you will leave earlier to England and today she posts that photo, and your mom, sister and you comment that, what is happening?”, I can hear the anxiety induced tears in her voice but know that she won’t let them come, just as I was about to speak she whispers “Please tell me it is not what I think”.

I feel tears come to my eyes and take a deep shuddering breath “I’m sorry”, I sniffle, the line is so quiet I’m afraid she hung up, I decide to break it by saying “Please say something”, then the unexpected happened, she starts crying. I feel tears begin to fall while she cries, the guilt on my chest is killing me but I don’t know what to say, “Liv I-, I’m so sorry, I really don’t know what else to say”.

“When?”, “March, we met by chance in LA, the night when we were fighting about…”, “Are you sure its yours?”, “Yes, we did the paternity test a week ago, got the results the next day, baby is definitely mine”, “Are they okay?”, I smiled a little, “Yes, everything is great, growing as they should”, “Good, that’s good”.

“Listen, I know this is a lot to take in, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I was really trying to understand everything, because even if it doesn’t seem that way, I am scared Liv; I’ve never been so scared of anything”, “I know, thank you for telling me, however this does not mean that I am not hurt or upset Harry”, “I know”.

“Liv are we good?”, her silence is deafening, my hands are sweating, and I my heart is beating really fast. After a few seconds, which felt like hours for me I hear her sigh and say in a whisper “I don’t know Harry, I really don’t know”.

We hung up the phone and I went inside, I washed my cup and went to bed, I was feeling drained but just before I drifted to sleep, I texted Jeff and asked him to send a couple of flower arrangements to Olivia with the note I attached.

June 3, 2021: Week Thirteen

New York City, New York. 9:00 Am

Good morning baby! How are you today? I am sorry, mamma slacked last week but you were killing me with the morning sickness bub, but hey if that means that you are healthy, I’ll take it any day. Today you are thirteen weeks! This means we are already a little over a fourth of the way through this journey, yay!!! Last week we had an appointment and daddy was able to meet you, he was crying tears of joy and couldn’t believe how big you already are! Daddy is currently in Europe working on filming a movie, but he has been texting me and asking about how you are (and how I am). We finally told the world about you lovie, everyone is really happy and excited to meet you, especially your Nana Anne and Auntie Gem and I feel that this is the perfect moment to write about them!

Your Nana Anne is daddy’s mum, she lives in England and has many cats, I’m sure you will be happy to play with them, she loves to knit (I’m pretty sure she will knit you anything you ask) and is very passionate in bringing awareness to causes close to her heart, she will be so happy to tell you everything about them. As for your Auntie Gem, she is my best friend, she is the better Styles but don’t tell that to your daddy. She works as an influencer, has a podcast, a blog, and her own sunglass line, she is the coolest person in the Planet, after me of course, I’m sure she’ll be your sidekick in many adventures to come.

I am hoping that we may be able to see each other soon, but this crazy world we’re living in has us stranded in different sides of the world. But that doesn’t mean they don’t love you bubby, they love you so so much already. I promise to keep up with my writing baby, I love you so much.

After writing I closed my notebook and went to have breakfast, I am so glad that the aversions are finally letting on and that I am able to eat whatever I want, which in this moment was some waffles.

After breakfast I got ready and started working, surprisingly I finished early and decided to take a walk around the neighborhood, the weather was nice, and I desperately needed some fresh air. There has been a though bugging me since I found out I am pregnant, and I decided to check in with Harry to ask him.

To H. Styles (4:34 PM): Hi, how are you? I hope shooting is going well. I wanted to ask you if you would mind me reaching out to Olivia and apologizing; after all this is a two people thing and I am as responsible for this as you are.

From H. Styles (4:36 PM): Hi! Shooting is going well, how are you? Any changes? Regarding Olivia, if you feel comfortable doing so, I won’t be opposed, not gonna lie, things between us are not good right now, so the only thing that worries me is if she thinks I sent you.

To H. Styles (4:38 PM): Everything is going well, no changes since you last saw them. I’m sorry to hear that, I promise I won’t mention her that we spoke, but I did want to let you know.

From H. Styles (4:39 PM): Thank you, it means a lot to me.

I decided I had enough sunshine for today and I walked home but stopped to get some dinner, I really wanted sushi, but I wasn’t allowed to have it right now, so I settled for Chinese. I arrived home and I decided that I was time to let my parents know.

I am surprised that they hadn’t already called me after the post, but then again, they don’t have social media and my siblings agreed to keep the secret. After my mom answered that they were available I took a deep breath before calling her, I knew that seeing her through Facetime would be a lot.

“Hi mom, how are you?”, “Hi darling, we are well how are you? I’m surprised that you called”, “Yeah sorry about that, it has been a few rough weeks”, “Oh really? And what could be so rough that you didn’t call for three weeks huh? We don’t ask much of you”, “I’m pregnant”, the line went quiet, the only thing I could hear were my breaths and my mom’s breaths.

“Mom?”, “Is it his?”, his as in Harry’s, it was no secret they were not the biggest Harry fans from the beginning of our relationship and had made nonstop comments on our break up, “Yes”, I heard her sigh and my dad come into the call, “Hello honey, how are you?”, “Pregnant, that’s how she is”, my mom answered bitterly, my dad laughed “Bear, what a funny joke”, “Daddy, it’s not a joke”.

“Honey, what happened?”, I started crying, “I don’t know daddy, I was in LA for some job meetings and decided to stay the week, I met him by chance, we went for dinner, and I’ll spare you the details, but he knows and has been really present all throughout”, “Oh baby, so you are back together then?”, my stomach dropped, “Uhm no, he is still with Olivia”, “WHAT?”, I had to remove the phone from my ear with the scream my mom gave, “So you are the other woman?”

“No mom, I am not the other woman, we are trying to figure everything out”, “Yeah, until he abandons you, how could you be so reckless? And worse of all, a cheater”, ouch, my mom knew how to touch nerves, “It’s not like that”, my dad had remained quiet, and I never expected him to say, “I’m sorry Y/N but your mom is right”, “What? Daddy-“, “No, I’m sorry but this has crossed a line; you knew he was dating someone, and you still chose to have sex with him, so now you will have to live with the consequences”, “What do you mean?”, “We will not condole or tolerate things like this, so I am asking you to please refrain from contacting us”

My heart dropped, “Daddy you don’t mean that”, “Yes, we do, I hope you learn from your mistakes and choices”, and they hung up the phone; the first ten minutes I was in total denial, my parents couldn’t have really meant that could they? I decided to call them again, and that’s when I knew: they meant it, I was sent straight to voicemail, and when I tried the third time it wouldn’t even go through.

I was panicking, my whole life was falling right in front of my eyes, and I felt like I couldn’t do anything about it, but why? Why did they abandon me? I felt like I was running out of breath and like throwing up at any given moment, I ran as fast as I could to the bathroom and hovered over the toilet for a few moments.

After the nausea passed, I was able to leave the bathroom, I sat down on the couch and grabbed my phone, I was starting to dial Harry’s number, but I decided against it, it didn’t feel right after what my parents told me.

As if someone was listening to my thoughts I got a call, I looked to see who it was and was very surprised to see Sarah’s name, we were really good friends while I dated Harry and was one of the people who I was so sad to let go when we broke up. I answered the phone.

“Miss Sarah Jones, what a pleasant surprise, how are you?”, “Hi lovely! I’ve missed you, how have you been?”, “I’m okay thank you, how about you mama? Ready to pop”, she laughed “Not quite but getting there, little baby is getting excited to come out; speaking of… congratulations to you too mama!”

I smiled, “Thank you, still feels like a dream you know?”, “I do honey, it was like that for me, I mean it had already like sunk in when we heard the heartbeat and had our ultrasounds but when I popped it was like a revelation moment. But really, how are you? You know we are friends with you too”

I started crying when I heard her say that, if there was something I was grateful for it was the friends I made while dating him, and the fact that they considered me their friend and not just a friend because I was a lover, “Uhm, I don’t know where to begin, I mean, my life did take a 360 in two months, I feel like the most stupid person for even agreeing to go with him to dinner and even worse to have agreed to go home with him, for not being able to give my baby a traditional family, oh and my parents basically disowned me and told me to not contact them again”

“Why me Sarah? I was doing just fine, I was starting to get my life back and finding some normalcy, especially after trying to accept and cope with the fact that he was moving on so quickly”, I sobbed for a few more seconds “I’m sorry, that was a lot”, we both laughed a little bit.

“I really want to go to New York and hug you honey, first and foremost, please for the love of God if you ever feel this way again, call me, text me, facetime me I don’t care, I don’t want for you to feel like this, I know that timing was not perfect, but what I’ve learned is that even if we don’t think so, timing is perfect, and that little baby has a reason to be here lovie”

“As for a ‘traditional family’, that is not how family is defined, what matters the most is that this baby is already loved and cared and cherished by a whole lot of people, he or she will never question if mom or dad loves them more or why are you not together, because you and H are two of the purest, most wonderful human beings there are on the planet”

“Thank you, Sarah, I really mean it, I am so sorry I cut ties with you guys, I won’t do that again”, “You better not, we are belly buddies now, I love you Y/N, you are not alone”, “I love you more, please say hi to Mitch for me”, Will do love”

I hung up with a lighter heart and a newfound sense of gratitude for every person I have met.

June 6, 2021: Week Thirteen

New York City, New York. 15:34 PM

To Olivia Wilde (13:31 PM): Hi Olivia, I know I am probably the last person you wish to speak to, but it would mean a lot to me if we could talk?

From Olivia Wilde (14:05 PM): Hi, it’s okay, maybe we could talk later, like 4 your time? Kids will still be in school.

I was shaking as I continued watching the clock tick, I knew this had to be done but it didn’t mean it was easy. I thought back to the day I met Olivia, it was late, and they had just finished filming so Harry texted me if I wanted to go to dinner with them, I couldn’t say no

I am not going to say that were the best of friends, but we had a cordial relationship, I was closer with Florence (who by the way was very open on expressing her feelings towards Harry and Olivia after the breakup) but she was nice whenever I visited set, or we met for a social gathering.

A buzz pulled me out of my thoughts, and I took a deep breath before answering, “Hello?”, “Hey, uhm its Olivia, sorry dumb comment you must have caller ID”, “Hey, how are you? Not dumb at all, better to be sure”, “I am well, how about you”, “I’m taking it day by day”, there was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments before I decided to talk, “Olivia, I’m so sorry”, “No Y/N-“, “Please let me say what I need to say, because it has been giving me so much anxiety”, I took her silence as a cue to continue.

“I am really sorry, and there is no excuse for what happened, and I feel so guilty because you don’t deserve this, and I’m mad because I have caused trouble between you and Harry when the only thing, I ever wanted for you guys was to be happy together. It would be easy for me to say that it was his fault, but I know that I have half of the responsibility here and I needed to tell you this and to also ask you to please don’t overthink things, it was a drunk mistake that shouldn’t have happened, but I won’t be a liar and tell you that I am not happy that it did, because I am happy to have a baby, because I know that this baby already is the love of and my life and I can’t wait to meet him or her”

“Y/N, I am not angry, well not with you at least, I want to thank you for reaching out, it really means a lot to me, especially because I was nervous that you had reached out because he had asked you, but you just showed me that you are the bigger person on this situation just please, do me a favor?”

“Sure”, “Please don’t break his heart, he is just as excited for this, but very nervous nonetheless”, “I promise you that I won’t break his heart”.

We hung up and I decided to shoot a text to Harry before going to bed, this phone call left me drained.

To H. Styles (6:47 PM): We talked, everything is good.

June 12, 2021: Week Fourteen

New York City, New York. 9:30 Am

I had just returned from the Farmer’s Market when I got a text from Gemma, and I was thankful I had left my shopping in the table because it would have probably ended on the floor.

From Gemma Styles (9:35 AM): Hey stranger, you up for a FaceTime call? Mom and I would love to see you.

From Gemma Styles (9:36 AM): Hi! Yes! Just give me a couple of minutes.

I went to my room to get my laptop and charger and fixed myself a glass of water and grabbed an apple before settling down on the couch and dialing Gem, it rang three times before she answered, and I felt tears brought to my eyes when I saw her and Anne smiling at me.

“Oh honey! Hi! You’re glowing!”, “Damn sis, pregnancy has done you good huh?”, I laughed a little, “Hello to you too, you are both the sweetest because I am definitely feeling unattractive and sick”, we all shared a laugh; God how I have missed them.

“I guess some congrats Nana Anne and Auntie Gem are in order huh?”, I saw Anne tear up, “Oh lovie, I want to hug you so bad, I am so so happy for you and Harry”, “Just wanted to let you know that I will corrupt your child”, “Gemma!”, we laughed as Anne hit her in the arm, “But, in all seriousness, how are we doing? In all aspects darling and don’t you dare lie because I will figure out.

“I am okay, morning sickness is getting better, belly is still to pop but I think it will be soon judging from the ligament pain I’ve had; I am in a better headspace now and I am so excited to meet this baby, to kiss his or her cheeks and to do everything”, I was tearing up.

“We are so happy to hear that, I know pregnancy is hard, but it will be so worthy; I will send you some advice by message, after all I was also pregnant with a Styles baby”, “Thank you Anne, I will be looking forward to it.

We chatted a little bit more about life, how was this world still treating us and how they really hope to be able to be here when baby arrives, “Speaking of, when are you due?” I could feel Gemma’s excitement through the screen.

“Well Betty my midwife has given me like two possible due dates, one is December 6, just at 39 weeks but she thinks that I’ll deliver on my actual 40-week due date which is December 13”, “Oh my god! The same day that Fine Line came out”, “I really hope that by that time we are able to travel, I would honestly be heartbroken if I missed the birth”, “I would be too Anne”.

After talking for about another hour we finally said our goodbyes, I put away my shopping, prepared some lunch and sat on the couch to eat and watch a movie while also stalking Twitter to see where he was.

Even if we were broken up, I still yearned for him.

Taglist @tinydestinybear @harry-is-my-sunflower @onlyamylee @adorejaell @dirtytissuebox

[spencerreidscoffeecup]

Daydreams Turn to Reality (fluffy/smut)

Summary: Autistic! Reader has a meltdown at the office.. Thankfully, her teammate Dr. Spencer Reid was nearby to help.

CW: Sensory overload, Autistic meltdown, crying, mentions to weight of reader (spencer picks her up), grinding

AN: Hello everyone! I hope you enjoy this one-shot! I have been in a deep depressive state for a few weeks, but I finally am feeling better to start writing again.. Aka start writing more chapters for “Beautifully Broken”! Love you all! <3

Word Count: 4800

--

Spencer’s POV:

Ever since I was young, I have had an active imagination.

Perhaps it was the myriad of books my mother had read to me every night before bed. Or maybe it was the fact that my daydreams had always been better than my real life.

But that’s what daydreams are, right? An escape from the real-world to a better reality.

Up until the moment that I met her, I had only ever found myself dreaming of dragons and aliens. Sure, I had my visions of a happier life, but I really only dreamt of preternatural creatures. However now, I found myself only dreaming of her.

I mean, how could I not?

She was perfect.

Her voice sounded of wind chimes on a warm, breezy summer afternoon. Like soft strings being strung by a violinist. Her voice moved life honey; slow and sweet, and always sticking to me. Her laugh sounded like the most ethereal ring, a certain stubborn blush always rising up my face once I heard the noise. And don’t even get me started on how beautiful she was. She looked like the golden, joyous rays of sunshine that shone through the clouds on a previously rainy and cold day; immediately filling your senses with warmth and light. She smelled of sticky cinnamon buns, sweet Georgia peaches, and laundry just pulled out of the dryer. She lit up any dull room with her alacrity; her energy was palpable.. It was also contagious.

Any aloof person that would never smile, seemed to have a brighter life whenever she entered into their vicinity.

I dreamt of what it would be like to kiss her. How would her lips feel against mine? Would the kiss move like her voice; slow and sweet? Or would it match her giddy energy and be stuttery and erratic? Maybe both?

These thoughts always seemed to take up every square inch of my mind, every minute of every single day.

In the past, I may have dreamt of fictional creatures, but now I was dreaming of fictional scenarios with the angelic woman that sat in front of me at her desk every day.

I tried to show her how much I was falling for her every minute I could, however, she was like me when it came to social cues. Clueless. Completely clueless.

So, I showed her my affection through small plush toys.

They seemed to always comfort the girl whenever her anxiety would peak. Not to mention how excited and cute she got when I gifted her the stuffed animals.

She would let me know how she was feeling through colors, and when she was seemingly having a tough day, for instance when she told me she felt orange, I went out on my lunch break later that day and purchased an orange bunny rabbit plush for her.

Once I gifted her the toy, her face lit into a crimson blush, almost as red as the stuffed animal. She smiled and gave me a hug. That was the first time she initiated contact with me.

Ever since then, she was very touchy-feely towards me, which inevitably fueled my growing love for the beautiful girl.

Today, she walked, no, ran into the bullpen, her headphones resting around her neck as she clutched her bag, walking to her desk.

Butterflies fluttered in my belly and chest as I felt myself beginning to blush.

“Spencer!” she squealed, running to my desk, a smile spread across her face.

“Hello!” I exclaimed.

“Guess what?”

“What?” I laughed at her excitement.

“Garcia brought in homemade muffins!”

I gasped, Y/n giggling at my dramatics.

“Bet you I can beat you to the last blueberry one,” she smirked, a mischievous look glinting in her dazzling eyes.

“Oh, it’s on!” I squinted my eyes at her, standing up from my desk.

She laughed, the sound making my brain fuzzy for a moment as I didn’t even realize she began to run off. I ran after her, grabbing her by the waist and picking her up as I set her down behind me, my name falling from her mouth between giggles as I ran off.

Moments later, we both made it to Garcia’s office, our heavy breathing causing the quirky woman in front of us to widen her eyes in concern. She walked up to Y/n, completely ignoring me as she cradled the giggling girl’s face.

Y/n was only comfortable with Garcia and me touching her--especially me. That’s why Penelope only held her face, Y/n was only comfortable with that sort of contact from her, as well as a hug but nothing more. However I, on the other hand, was allowed to hug, touch, and carry her. The fact that she was completely comfortable with me made my crush grow.

I was happy that I was a comfort person for the young girl. Not only did it make me ecstatic, but it also made her feel over the moon at the fact that she was growing.

“Oh, my goodness! Are you okay?” Garcia asked, her eyebrows drawn together in worry.

Y/n laughed, causing my small smile to stretch into a toothy-grin.

“Yep! We just came for the muffins!” Y/n explained, and Garcia nodded knowingly, a small chuckle escaping her throat as she let go of the girl and picked up the large plate that smelled of delicious, freshly baked sweets.

I grabbed the last blueberry muffin before Y/n, a small whine escaping her throat. She looked up at me with her starry eyes, a pleading look on her face. Truthfully, I was going to give her the muffin in the end. However she didn’t need to know that.

I smiled, presenting her with the muffin as she giggled happily, her arms slinging around my neck as I took in her intoxicatingly sweet scent.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she blabbered, biting into the muffin and humming happily as she skipped away. “Bye, Spencer! Bye, Penny!” she called, waving to me as she turned the corner.

“Bye!” Penelope and I both called back, a smile gracing my lips as I looked fondly at the corner she had just rounded, as if she was still there.

I was so entranced by the girl that I totally forgot Garcia stood in front of me with a smirk on her face.

“What?” I asked.

‘“‘What?’” She mocked my voice, smiling smugly at me. “What do you mean, what? You are in lo-ove with Prettygirl over there!” Garcia sang, and I immediately felt my face get warm.

“Wh-? I am not in-in love!” I squeaked, and Garcia laughs, humming a quick sure.

I walk away quickly, thanking Garcia for the muffin.

I am definitely in love with Y/n.

How could I not be?

Shit.

--

Around lunchtime, I began to notice that Y/n grew anxious, her face strewn together in worry.

The sight made my heart squeeze in my chest.

She mostly kept her head down, except her eyes kept on flicking around the room hastily. She gulped a few times, fidgeting with a rubber band and a pencil; the pencil acting as a pick to strum the stretched band that looped around her fingers in a triangle shape.

I wanted to go up and ask if she needed any assistance, however I didn’t want to make anything worse than it already was... or overwhelm her more.

“Reid! Can I see you in my office for a moment? I just want to make sure you got the correct files from the case last week.” Hotch announced from his office.

I glanced at Y/n, who’s eyes flickered up at mine, a pleading look lacing her facial expressions.

I reluctantly stood up from my desk, nodding my head at Hotch as I walked up the stairs to his office, telephones sounding throughout the BAU.

I could understand how she felt overwhelmed. Heck, I felt overwhelmed a lot of the time. Between the sounds of pencils scratching on paper, the incessant sound of coffee brewing, computers clacking, files being flipped through, phones ringing and people chatting.. It can be very anxiety inducing as well as just an overwhelming environment to work and be in..Especially when you are on the spectrum.

However, Hotch closed the door behind him, separating me from the beautiful--but anxious girl that sat at her desk, fidgeting away, her head twitching slightly.

-

As Hotch and I were about to finish our meeting, we both heard a loud cry. My heart began to race. I knew that cry.

A year ago, Y/n had a meltdown in a cafe. It was really upsetting for her and she struggled to leave her apartment for weeks.

I ran out, Hotch following behind me.

JJ, Morgan, Emily, and Garcia all huddled around Y/n’s desk, however, Y/n was not sitting in her chair, rather, she was huddled underneath the table; her knees pressed up against her chest as she pressed her palms against her ears as she cried.

I ran over, the team’s faces scrunched in concern and confusion.

“Spence! I-I don’t know what happened! One minute she was at her desk, and then I dropped a coffee cup and she started to scream and cry.” JJ stammered, running her fingers through her hair.

As she spoke, I heard the crying girl repeat two words over and over.

Too much, too much, too much.

My heart sank in my chest. “It’s alright, it wasn’t your fault, okay? She was just overwhelmed.” I reassured the blonde, who exhaled shakily, nodding.

I turned back to the girl who began to scream as more people surrounded her.

One man tried to touch her.

Oh, no.

“Hey, get away from her!” I exclaimed, and the man stopped, throwing me a dirty look. People seemed to clear away as they flashed us weird and worried looks.

“Please!” she cried, the word harsh and forced through puckered cheeks.

I got down on my knees, crawling under Y/n’s desk.

“Hey, Y/n,” I said softly, trying my best to calm her. She didn’t look up as expected, instead she kept her hands plastered on her ears. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” I shushed her, shrugging my jacket off of my body and wrapping it around her shaking frame.

I heard her reciting words under her breath.

“Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas, California, Colorado, Connecticut..”

She rocked faster on her tailbone, smacking her head on the inside of her desk repeatedly as she recited the states in alphabetical order.

I remembered reciting the states in alphabetical order was something she did to calm down from last time.

I knew what to do.

I had dealt with similar situations myself.

I knew how to deal with her meltdowns as well.

“Alabama, Alaska, Arizona..!” she sobbed, her eyes shut tightly as she continued on listing the states.

I brought my hand behind her head, keeping her from developing bruising from how hard she was hitting her head.

“Reid..” Morgan spoke, but I ignored him, only turning around to tell everyone to go back to their desks.

I wrapped my arms tightly around her body, shushing her.

She liked when I did this. It was a comfort tactic for her. She felt secure.

Eventually, her cries dissipated as I reached into her bag to grab her black headphones, her body clinging to mine as I put them on over her ears, her right hand fidgeting with the back of her hair and her left clinging to her pant leg as I embraced her tightly.

“Do you want it tighter or looser?” I whispered.

“Tight,” she managed to squeak out, to which I squeezed my arms around her, demonstrating how to take deep breaths as she followed along, her body calming down as well as her cries.

“Is this okay?” I asked, to which she nodded.

I shushed her until she looked up at me, her body still shaking from the aftermath.

“Do you want to go home? It’s close to 9 already,” I offered.

“Mhm. B-but can I go to your apartment? I don’t wan’ be alone.”

My eyes softened. “Of course.. C’mon. Do you have a color of how you’re feeling?” I asked.

“O-orange.” She whimpered, and I grabbed her bag as she clung to my body.

“Okay, how were you feeling earlier?” I asked.

“D-dark red.”

“That’s good, that it’s better. Come on, let’s get home, okay?” She nodded, her feet shuffling as I walked, the side of her torso pressed up against mine.

I would text Hotch when we arrived home, but for now, I was only focused on the girl and her tight grasp on my clothing.

--

It was a silent walk up to my apartment.

She had become mute once I began driving, her upper body swaying forwards and backwards as she repeated the contiguous United States under her breath. I turned off all music and made sure to avoid any speed bumps or potholes that were on the road. I didn’t want to make the situation worse.

Although, when I helped her out of the car her body clung to mine automatically.

I slipped my shoes off once we made it inside, and I noticed how Y/n’s eyes were closed, her breathing calmed.

I knew she wasn’t asleep and that she was just in a shocked after-phase, however, I couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she looked in the dim lighting.

I mean, she always looked beautiful.. All of the time.

I felt guilty for the butterflies that fluttered in my belly at the sight of her.

“Is it okay if I pick you up?” I asked softly, brushing some of the loose strays of her hair out of her face. She nodded lazily, wrapping her arms around me. I smiled at that.

I picked her up, walking to my room and then setting her down on the pillows gently. I pulled the shoes off of her feet and then loosened the tie around my neck, unbuttoning my white dress shirt a bit. I tucked her in tightly, then began to walk away as I thought she was asleep. I was going to sleep on the couch. However, her hand flew up from the sheet, her doe eyes looking up at me.

“Spencer, p-please don’t leave. Stay with me.”

I smiled softly, contemplating.

If I did this, my love for her would grow and I would ultimately have a broken heart in the end.

However, she needed me.

Thus, I slipped under the covers next to her, her hands grabbing at my clothes and pulling me closer as I chuckled lightly. Butterflies exploded in my stomach and fluttered around in my chest.

My body heat seemed to ebb away any previous anxiety that she withheld. Her breathing slowed and she snuggled up closer to my chest, soft snores sounding from her nose. I smiled, pulling her closer to me as she nuzzled her head in the crook of my neck.

Eventually, my eyelids began to flutter closed as I fell into a deep slumber, the beautiful girl in my arms making my whole entire heart and mind happy. So happy in fact, that my dreams were only about the most beautiful things-- like watching the stars twinkle in the sky as Y/n and I cuddled on a picnic blanket in Zhangye Danxia Geopark, a geological park located in China. I imagined the vast expanse of mountains surrounding us, the air fresh and chilly, prompting Y/n to snuggle up closer to my body for warmth.

Although the view was beautiful and spectacular, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of the young woman thats arms were tightly wrapped around my torso.

I was practically hypnotized by her.

--

I woke up the next morning to feather-soft touches over my cheeks and a brightness blooming through my chest and body as a content sigh fell from my lips. I didn’t open my eyes, but my hands began to roam over the unfamiliar-- yet comforting terrain within my grasp.

I felt smooth, warm skin that rippled with goosebumps all over before I could even get to certain patches-- as though the tissue estimated where my fingertips would travel to next. Nimble legs wound around mine upon my insinuation. It felt like a dream--an even better dream than the one I had earlier on the night previous. It was better in that it was real--not made up from the abyss of my imagination. My hand on her lower back brought her closer, pressing her against me before I could even realize that I’d blurred the lines between reality and my dreams and fantasies.

This was real.

Scenarios like these that kept me entertained for so long had now become my actuality.

But I didn’t panic; I had no reason to. I melted into the touch of the beautiful being that laid intertwined limb by limb with my body.

Finally, when I opened my eyes, I saw her tranquil stare. She looked at me with a wide-eyed, yet tired-eyed, fascination from just mere inches away. It took what little breath I had away from me as I stared back at her with all the love that I could muster in my weary expressions.

“Good morning,” I whispered softly, causing her eyes to flicker down to my lips. My hands drew small patterns on her soft, yet chilled skin. It was hard for me to tell how much of her longing was real or imagined, created by my lovesick, oxygen-deprived brain as we stayed wrapped up in each other under the satin covers.

“Clear.”

It was a strange and beautiful thing to say to me in the wee hours of the early morning, however, something about the tone of her voice told me that she felt happy.

To be sure, I asked. “Is that a good thing?”

Again, her eyes flickered to my lips as her pointer finger drew a soft line across my chin, all the way up to my bottom lip as she traced across it in amazement. Something so small, which made my tender lip tingle, lit my skin into a small fire. A small, shy, smile ghosted across her lips.

With a quiet voice she answered. “It's a new one. And technically clear isn't a color. But yes.”

I smiled softly, my eyes raking over her features as I tried to memorize this moment.

She then hoisted herself up on her forearms, my hand dropping from her upper back to the small of her back. My thumb was still drawing soft patterns on her warm skin, that was now unclothed as her shirt rode up. She swung a leg over my waist, now straddling my torso as my hands shifted to lying on her hips. She giggled, the sound hatching the once caterpillars from the cocoons that they slept in in my chest, now fully butterflies that fluttered lovingly around my system as I smiled at the soft hiccups she produced in between each laugh.

She leaned forward, her chest basically pressed against my face, but she was careful not to suffocate me. She toyed with my hair, my hands still on her waist as I was careful to not push boundaries.

“I like your hair. It’s curly and soft.” She sighed, my eyes closing at the feeling of her running her fingers through my bed-head hair.

“Thank you,” I murmured, squeezing her waist softly.

She sat up, taking my left hand from her waist and running her fingers along the pads of mine, then the digits of my knuckles as she wrapped her small, cold hand in mine.

“I like your hands too. They’re big and warm.” she accounted, pressing my hand that was intertwined with hers to her warm cheek that now had a small blush dancing on it.

I smiled, “I appreciate it. I like your hands too.”

“Really?” she asked, her voice small.

I nodded, a light chuckle falling from my lips.

“Yes, really. I like everything about you. I really like you.”

The admittance made my stomach churn with anxiety.

Yet, she beamed with pure joy, falling forward onto my body and hugging my neck as I laughed softly.

She leaned her forehead on mine, my breath hitching in my throat as her eyes flickered down to my lips and her hands played with the bottom of my lavender, silk tie.

“I really like you too,” she whispered, kissing the tip of my nose.

It felt like my heart had burst in my chest-- of course in the best way. The tip of my nose tingled as though her lips were still pressed against it.

My hands rested on her hips as she inched closer to my lips, quickly pressing a kiss on them nervously, slightly pulling away to see my reaction as a small yelp sounded from her throat with anxiety.

However, I diminished her fears as I pressed my hand against her jaw, bringing her back to kiss me again.

The kiss, like her voice, was slow and soft, sticking with me like honey. She brought her hands to my face, squeezing my cheeks together as I laughed into the kiss, my heart fluttering with jubilation. She pulled away with wide eyes. I tried to follow after her lips, but she just laughed.

She bent down and kissed me again, the feeling of her lips against mine better than the myriad of daydreams that I had created in my mind about moments like these.

Soft, slightly lewd noises sounded from our kissing, our tongues twining together as she hummed happily at the feeling.

She pulled away, her hands still pressed against my face.

“I like the feeling of us kissing. The stubble on your face feels weird on mine, but it also feels good. I like the way it makes my skin feel like pins and needles… but much better. It makes me feel happy.”

I laughed.

I was going to shave, but I guess not anymore.

“I’m glad,” I whispered, drawing a small line across her jaw.

“I also like the way my lips feel after we kiss. They feel numb and tingly. But not in a bad way. It’s not like the time that I got my molars extracted and then had to give me seven shots in my gums. My lips felt like a dead fish after. It’s not like that, it feels nice. Really nice. Like I never want to stop. And my stomach gets all queasy--but I love it. I love it a lot.” she whispered.

I laugh softly, holding her chin as I meet my lips with hers for a moment before pulling away.

You’re so cute.” I whisper-laugh.

Her face gets red as her eyes trace over my features before her lips break out into a smile, giggles escaping the back of her throat. My heart flutters at the sound.

She kisses me again, a small whimper leaving her throat and echoing into my mouth as her hips move on my crotch.

I feel myself get hard as her hips move quickly, our lips disconnecting as she giggles, her head being thrown back as my hands stay still on her hips. I’m careful not to squeeze too hard, and to not push boundaries. My hips rut upwards towards hers, and I’m afraid I’ve gone too far as she gasps, but she never stops, the feeling of my pant zipper against her clothed core eliciting a beautiful, sweet and crackly moan to fall from her lips. I groan softly, her face falling from the ceiling to look at me with wide, pleasure-filled eyes as her hips drag across my hard, restrained dick that is pressed against my slacks. The feelings that run through my veins like wildfire make me grunt softly, which only prompts the girl to rock faster on her hips, trying her best to elicit more sounds from me.

Her hands cling onto mine, guiding my lithe fingers to splay out on her as she wraps her fingers in between mine to make me squeeze her clothed skin.

Whines fall from her throat as I squeeze softly, the friction making my orgasm bubble up in the lower depths of my belly.

“Does that feel good, darling?” I ask, now using my hands to drag her slowly up and down my clothed dick as she whines.

She nods, her eyes looking at me through a half-lidded gaze.

I smile softly, her body going limp as I feel her orgasm approaching; as well as mine.

“Sp-Spencer, please don’t make it stop.” she whimpers, yanking onto my tie, extracting a moan to leave my throat.

“I wouldn’t even think of it, love.” I reply, my fingers running up and down her waist as small mewls leave from the back of her throat.

I hear small whispers leave her mouth between her aroused sounds.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you..”

Smiling, I respond. “Are you going to come for me, darling?” I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.

She nods dumbly, her hands dancing around different places to grip my clothing as she looks to stabilize herself. A tear leaves the corner of her eye and I quickly wipe it away, sitting up to kiss her, the new angle at which my pant zipper hits her making her cry out as I press my lips against hers in a breathy kiss. I fall back onto the pillows behind me

Soon, our orgasms hit, and her hips slow as she falls onto my chest.

She laughs, peppering the sensitive tissue of my neck with kisses, and I hum in content.

“I love you, Spencer Reid.” she whispers into my skin, and I feel like I am going to cry.

In fact, I do cry.

She hears sniffling and sits up, inches away from my face as she wipes the fallen tears from my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asks softly, kissing my chin.

“I just- I love you as well.”

A small smile lights up her face.

“Lavender,” she says, kissing my lips and cradling my face. “This is what lavender feels like.”

--

I wake up earlier on Monday morning, before the sleeping angel in my bed wakes.

We spent the whole weekend together, and I’ve never been more happy.

Exchanging our I love you’s was truly something that made my whole entire world glow in a rosey-pink.

Quickly, I run to the store and go through my options; trying to find the perfect one.

Finally, I see it.

A lavender turtle.

I purchase the toy, and drive to my apartment as quickly as possible.

I walk into my room, Y/n’s hair splayed out across the pillows as her soft breathing hums from her nose, her hair and soft skin glowing in the golden, early morning sun.

I smile, my heart practically beating out of my chest with joy.

I kneel next to the bed, running my fingers through her hair and kissing her cheek.

Her eyebrows furrow before she peeks through her half-closed eyelids.

“Spencer?” she murmurs, her voice crackling from just waking up.

“Good morning, love.”

She smiles, suddenly wrapping her hands around my neck and bringing me in for a hug.

I laugh softly.

The bag with the stuffed toy rustles quietly as I lean forward, and she pulls away.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, just something I got for you.” I say nonchalantly, biting my bottom lip down as I try my best not to smile.

“For me?!” She gasps excitedly, trying to grab the bag with her hands.

“Of course for you!” I laugh, running my hand down her arm.

“Oh, please can I have it, Spencer? Please, please, please!” She begs, standing up from bed and I tower over her, Y/n’s hands grasping my shirt.

“Hmm,” I pretended to think, narrowing my eyes at her. She pouts, tugging me down by my shirt to kiss her lips. I pull away. “Oh, alright.”

She giggles excitedly, and I throw the bag away from the toy, pulling the plush from my back, presenting it to her.

She gasps, hugging the toy to her chest as she squeals.

“Spencer! I love it!”

I laugh, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“I’m glad.” I say, and she wraps her arms around my waist, looking up at me with big eyes.

“Oh my goodness! I love you, so much!”

I smile, looking down at her, small laughs escaping my throat.

“I love you, so much, too.”

She laughs, kissing my lips again, before pulling away slightly.

“Lavender is my favorite color.” she whispers.

“Mine too.” I whisper back, placing my lips on hers softly.

--