#drug addiction awareness film

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patrick bateman hcs (nsfw: mdni)

patrick bateman x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)

warnings: overall pretty toxic, homophobic and misogynistic, there's a lot of infidelity/cheating and drug usage/alcohol too. there is also shaming of sex work - this is purely fictional and i do not condone this behavior in real life. i wrote in these elements because they appear in the original source material, not because i hold these opinions/views. mentions of extreme kink/fetish (knife play, blood play), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), oral sex (giving + receiving), handjobs, cockwarming, implied dom/sub dynamics (patrick is a top + sugar daddy/dom/slight sadist + is entitled, reader is more submissive + sweet), lots of cum + precum/arousal, reader sometimes treated as sex object, marking (bruises, bite marks, hickeys etc.), dubious consent? (overstimulation, he can be manipulative, reader flashes someone in afab section), reference to past rough sexual encounters, lots of sexual tension, patrick is sociopathic(?) + gets hard a lot + is possessive/slightly domestic but still rough, canon colleagues (schrödinger's judgement + they're horny), nipple play, voice kink/voicemail sex, threats/mentions of canon (?) violence (not towards reader), exhibitionism + public settings, consensual filming of sexual acts, gun play/fear play, cigar gets extinguished on reader (research risks properly before trying irl, please stay safe), hired sex worker, mentions of surgery in ftm + mtf sections, rip jean + evelyn's emotions

a/n: i'm a massive fan of the broadway musical (bootleg available on youtube) and i've seen the film twice, but i still need to read the book!! i've listened to this youtube audiobook (ai voice patrick reading it - part one) and it kinda goes hard. anyway, peeb ateman is soft with reader in this one, so it could potentially be a little ooc.

order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much

_ _ _ _ _

general hcs

patrick is already engaged to evelyn when he meets you. he's very well aware that she's seeing timothy price, so he might as well have his own fun - divorce isn't in fashion this year, so being prepared for that potential outcome might turn some heads and patrick hates judgmental attention

if you're already in a relationship with someone, he'll whisk you away immediately. you deserve so much better than some chump who can't afford to spoil you, he'll prove his superiority with his shiny silver card

show him genuine affection and take interest in his music taste!! if you listen to him and take time out of your day to participate in conversation, he'll abruptly stop mid-sentence to process that you're invested in his recap of his day :( you'll have no issues with him from then out - you respect him and he'll respect you. he's quietly thankful for how kind you are to him

if patrick has a yearning to dabble in a certain kink or fetish - such as knife play or extreme blood play - that you're not willing to participate in, he'll just find someone who can satiate his needs temporarily. no harm done, patrick just wants to make sure he's not taking complete advantage of you - he'll pay for you to have a delicious dinner and fancy hotel for the night, don't worry. he still wants to take care of you and reassure you that no one is taking your place, and that you'll still have him in the morning... he just needs to let out his extreme urges throughout the night

his way of showing affection is brushing his nose against you, whether it be your temple, ear or cheek as he whispers sweet nothings to you. he longs for subtle contact and the gentle warmth of your skin. he's also addicted to burying his face in your neck or pressing his lips against your crown when he fucks you from behind or squirming in his lap, the small puffs of hot air tickling your flushed skin and his lidded eyes rolling at your scent

he digs his fingers into your lower tummy while he fucks you, feeling his cock ram deep inside you - he's shamelessly using you as his own fucktoy, massaging his length to get himself off. the extra pressure against his tip has him shuddering at the delicious sensation

yeah sure, patrick might be a weirdo and a loser but he can fuck you like he loves you (maybe he does) and spare cash to dry-clean your cum off his expensive suits... fair trade, no?

he practically becomes your sugar daddy - you're his personal doll to dress, provide for and parade around proudly. he wouldn't trade the satisfied glint in your eyes, or the rhythm of your glistening arousal dripping on his wood paneled floors for anything. after a long day of spoiling you, he becomes a little selfish in the bedroom and chases his high with no regard for how overstimulated you might get :(

he is obsessed with dressing you to match his personal perception of you - that is to say, have you dressed in a manner that would make atheists reconsider and have the faithful herald you as their new deity. he wants to ensure that everyone know why he worships you the way he does. even if you don't feel confident in your skin, he quietly reassures you that your bashfulness only adds to your charm

you're his personal model and his precious doll - plaything, if you will. after you return to his place from perusing the designer shops, he lounges back with a whiskey in hand and patiently watches you show off your latest purchases on his card. he'll ask you to spin or swap shoes to match the outfit every so often, even asking you to bend down towards him just so he can adjust your collar or hairstyle. if he gets taken aback by how stunning you look in a certain outfit, expect him to get carried away and start panic rambling - he'll explain the specifics of the material, cut or brand as his fingers roam your body with devotion and his eyes greedily drink you in. his voice gets progressively huskier throughout the show until he gets to the expensive undergarments hidden in matte bags and tissue paper - he fucks you in front of the mirror, reveling in the way the material hugs your skin and how your skin shifts as your muscles clench with every thrust

after he warmed up to you, patrick slowly realized how emotionally taxing your early encounters were on you and that you were left feeling used and roughed up afterwards. if he still makes you feel that way after he first admits his affection, definitely let him know - he might want to leave physical marks on you that linger for a week or so after, but emotional damage is the last thing he wants marring your relationship

something that resembles quiet devotion lingers in his gaze, the glint of chandeliers flashing as he quickly shakes his head and denies he was ever staring :( sure, you might not be the stereotypical 'hardbody', but you're more worth his time than all of the other whores that his cock stirs for - you're leagues better than the sluts turning tricks and actually deserve a place in his home, his bed, unlike the simple chicks he picks up from clubs. he actually respects you (though, not enough to acknowledge your independence away from him) and his silent approval - pride, even - of your actions sometimes slips through his mask

whenever you're in the room with him, there is an invisible yet tangible tension that tugs you together. the warm, compressing feeling always hones your vision onto patrick - it drowns out all of the noises and movement around you, grounding you in the all-consuming gaze of your lover. his eyes snap to yours whenever you enter the room and he instinctively feels a bulge growing in his slacks, his pupils dilating as his tongue darts out to dampen his lips. no polite conversation or mundane styling drivel is worth his time when you are in his field of view

patrick genuinely feels his blood thunder in his ears whenever the men at the table make snide remarks about your appearance or belittle you. he is absolutely disgusted at their attitudes and lack of understanding - you are his darling and you deserve to be treated as his equal, at a minimum. however, if the table murmurs about how sexy you look, he's more than willing to show you off a bit - he's proud of what's his, obviously! just don't let the boys get too bold with their 'polite' touches or they won't have fingers in the morning :<

he'll buy you a ring. not to propose, oh god no - he doesn't want to do the whole evelyn debacle again. patrick wants to simply state his territory and claim so that others would be less inclined to approach you (plus, it helps that he doesn't have to vividly daydream about it anymore - it saves brain power)

if he rushes home with dirty, damp gloves and a missing button on his overcoat, he'll forever be indebted to you if you pour him a stiff drink and prepare to call jean to postpone all events the next day

your head gets all fuzzy when his tongue drags along the line of your collarbone and his soft lips ghost down your chest - circling your nipple and threatening you with the edge of his teeth makes the edge of his mouth twist into a smirk. if you meet his gaze, his lidded eyes give away how content he is in this position, with you on top of his lap. his lips sheened with spit and your buttoned shirt yanked open make for an arousing sight

patrick is a big fan of smoking his cigars while you sloppily take his cock down your throat - he gets some sadistic pleasure from putting them out on your spit-soaked thighs, the drool hissing under the scorching heat. it's coincidentally also one of his favourite things to reminisce, running his fingers over your thighs while replaying those memories during boring social events. the scent of his expensive smoke, wafting around him in a saloon, has him drifting back to the sight of his hefty cock resting on your face - the length throbbing with every heartbeat, pearls of salty precum seeping into your soft skin and trailing in thin rivulets down the contours of cheekbone

he is a fan of sneaking a dab of his yves saint lauren perfume onto all of your formal wear, a little mark of him and something to keep you company whenever you're out at functions he's not attending

he drags you out to clubs just to dress you up and show you off under the bright, colourful flashing lights. you have his eye the entire time you're feeling yourself on the dance floor, tempting him your sensual movements from across the room - don't expect him to act on it immediately though, he's more than content to hold your gaze and sip his glass from the bar. if some sleaze dares to get handsy with you, he'll step in and guide you towards the bathroom as his fingers glide down to your lower back - he needs a bump to loosen up and not hurt every single chump eyeing you up. you're his plaything, after all.

if you spend a night at patrick's place, he'll secretly love taking showers with you - only because you help him rub in his cleansers and soaps into his skin, no other reason. certainly not that your devoted, admiring gaze make him flush and whisper his timid thanks under the steady stream of water, the noise lost in the pounding around your ears. ignore his building arousal, it'll stay there and grow even harder when he pleasures you with his tongue on the counter of his stainless-steel kitchen. you're the only one he'll kneel for, and you bet that there's a steamed-up outline of your ass on the countertop when he's done :3

despite his incessant need to fit in, he's never going to blend in while you remain by his side. you bring out that rare smile of his and that soft chuckle in public settings. you far outshine all the other, dull plus-ones at the dinner parties

you are patrick's trump card - everyone he knows either wants to be you or fuck you, they'll do anything to impress (especially if there's false hope of ending the night in bed with one or both of you)

if you're confident enough, you could be his personal little pornstar!! it makes you so giddy, the knowledge that he could show the snippets of the videos to his coworkers (who dream about getting you naked) and make them jealous of the fact that you've cum numerous times with patrick's name on your lips. the video is recorded on the best equipment of course - he can't have you on video while looking anything less than godlike on camera

he orders your favourite dishes at every restaurant, combs and brushes out your hair when you arrive at his apartment, then fucks you roughly while whispering how thankful he is for you. his babbling pleas for you to stay and praise of your existence echo in your mind for hours after, especially as he rests next to you with steady breathing

patrick leaves hickeys and bite marks all over you and while he might apologise while handing you anti-bruise supplements, know that his mind's eye is stuck on the sigh of your skin blossoming under his lips - specifically, the feeling of his teething nipping your skin and the small hum of satisfaction as he pulls away to inspect his work. if you've been good lately, he'll let you leave a hickey or mark on his chest - it's only fair after he leaves you bruised and aching in his arms the next morning :( if you've behaved to his liking, he'll share some of his japanese pear and kiwi for breakfast. you need some sugar to recoup anyway

if he's been snappy or pent up all day, he'll guilt you into taking him with minimal prep - he will snap and go feral if he's had to rein it in at work, plus the stretch feels heavenly around his thick cock

patrick had once ordered a prostitute for the two of you to experiment with - making sure they were a fair balance between your ideal types, bodywise. this plan went a little off script after the foreplay when you and patrick ended up exploring your exhibitionist sides, passionately kissing and languidly exploring each other's bodies while the hire slowly touched themselves at the sight. that precious hour or so was the easiest pay that person had ever made (you and patrick were far from unattractive), plus that champagne that you poured out was heavenly

patrick has you suck him off during skincare routines in the morning and evening, making sure to cum all down your throat. he insists it's good protein for you!! kneeling in front of the bathroom countertop has become second nature to you, the divine sight of your rugged lover above you routinely making you feel at ease

you had better be friends with his secretary jean because you'll see her a lot. if she gets jealous and her failed attempts at sleeping with him affect her capabilities, patrick will simply hire a different secretary. sure, he'll love to flaunt you and taunt them about how they aren't fucking either of you, but that's just part of his fun. he might use the empty threat of fucking you in front of the secretary as a way to keep you from acting out, but he's too possessive to have someone in a different tax bracket see you laid bare

get him spa day gift cards!! you can both spend time in private saunas or pools simply enjoying each other's presence and use the time to caress each other's bodies. use the opportunity to get a full body massage - when patrick has had a rough week, you're more than likely going to end up with a couple bruises and a few sore muscles

while he's never been the most domestic man, the image of you flitting back and forth in his pristine kitchen flicks a switch in patrick's brain. your earnest efforts of making him his breakfast bran muffins and churning his apple butter has him daydreaming of keeping you in his apartment like a pet - at his beck and call constantly, dusting his expensive furniture and preparing his meals whenever he comes home... not to mention how you'd willingly bend over or drop to your knees in a heartbeat if he so desired

if patrick is riding an adrenaline (or cocaine) high when he returns to you, be very careful and tread lightly. he may have an itch to clean his axe or handguns, polishing them until the late hours of the night. when he's in a jittery and frantic state, he isn't above having you spread out on his polished floor as something nice to look at while assembling the firearms, and he's certainly not against fucking you roughly while holding the gun to your head or body. he's even aroused by the though of you sucking off his uzi, spit-slicked metal knocking your teeth as your glistening eyes widen in fear

when you sleep next to him, he might jolt awake at night before realizing your shifting movements pose no threat to him, especially when you're locked into his arms with your soft breath brushing against his skin. when he gazes at you in these dimly lit moments, his mask slips until he feels a semblance of happiness - there's no discomfort, jealousy or boredom, he's content with you against him like this. after a long while of his breathing filling the dark room, his mind forces his walls back up and reverts him back to his usual self just as he drifts to sleep. no one can ever see him like that, see what your presence does to him... not even you

he has a penchant for fucking you infront of his toshiba 30-inch television, a porno tape or horror movie often playing. he loves the way screams - either of ecstasy or pain - fill his ears as you moan beneath him, the colours of the screen dancing on your skin. his cock always pulses just that little bit more whenever you bite his thumb and take his dick deep inside you as the film plays in the background. red is suck a sexual and raw colour after all, why not have the bright screen fill your vision as you cum on his cock? the vibrance drowns out all other stimuli, forcing you to focus on his presence in and around you

imagine the shock on evelyn's face when she shows up unannounced at patrick's place one late afternoon- he's swaying to heuy louis and the news, hands on your hips as you giggle and pour him a glass. his silk shirt loosely buttoned just covers your modesty as he soothingly rubs circles on your thigh, soft grin fading as his gaze frosts over at the sight of his betrothed. she sniffs, scandalized at the sight infront of her, and tells patrick to not bother contacting her - tim price's phone will be unplugged the moment she arrives at his place. to be honest, patrick could not care less. you're in his arms and he knows for a fact that evelyn will be over it soon - if not, there's a more suitable marriage candidate right in front of him. if you feel bad or guilty after evelyn leaves, patrick will do his best with his hands, thick cock, tongue and credit card to soothe your worries

expect patrick to leave desperate and vaguely threatening voice mail messages - his heavy, stuttered breaths echoing in your ears as the slick sounds in the background get you more and more worked up. the depraved ramblings deepen and get hoarser with each passing minute, so you'd better pray jean doesn't walk in - she isn't worthy of seeing him in such a disheveled and flushed state

_ _ _ _ _

amab hcs

luis is the most understanding of patrick's work bunch - he isn't shy to defend you and be seen in public as your friend, once you are comfortable telling him your secret of course. just make sure everyone knows you're not a part of that yale thing and you'll be fine

although he isn't keen on being open about his relationship with you - for fear of his colleagues and fellow acquaintances of wall street making derogatory comments towards him, or worse, you - majority of the men already have some closeted urge to spend the night with you, yearning to take bateman's place in your bed. let's face it, the cocaine, competition and firm handshakes can only do so much to hide the growing homoerotic tensions between the coworkers. your appeal is wider than you realise, as the compliments and lingering gazes at events would have most outsiders questioning if carruthers was the only gay man present in the social circle

in large social gatherings - such as big dinner parties or company events - patrick is able to hide his hand under the table and keep a poker face while unbuttoning your fly, untucking your shirt and slowly palming you for his own amusement. his bragging of designer clothing, company roles and mentions of a nice house he procured - for you to move into, of course - easily distract the other people on the table from what's happening in their vicinity

if his j&b on the rocks isn't hitting the spot or the cigars his colleagues are smoking feel heavy in his lungs, he'll drag you into the men's room - assuming there's no one in the other stalls, of course. his fly is halfway undone by the time your knees and expensive slacks hit the tiles, his hands mussing your slicked back hair. you'd better take his cock down your throat to the best of your abilities - you don't want an audience to witness you choking and spluttering on bateman's length, do you? of course not, they'll ostracize you in a heartbeat (or so patrick says), so you had better not complain or splutter when he pinches your nose shut and shoots hot ropes down your throat

whenever patrick fucks your ass, he ensures that his mark is left on your supple skin for days later - whether it be a handprint-shaped bruise, crescent nail marks or scratches along your thighs, he needs to have you remembering how well he fucks you. as you sit down, adjust your pants or even just accidentally back into something, patrick is suddenly at the forefront of your mind

_ _ _ _ _

afab hcs

patrick buys you the finest jewelry and nicest accessories that money can buy - the deal is that you give him handjobs with the sparkling rings on and kisses with the expensive lipstick, luxurious material framing your figure like a dream. he is especially a fan of you wearing jewels that match your eye colour or makeup - when he lifts your hand to press a polite kiss on your fingers, the glittering in your eyes matching his gifts makes his heart skip a beat

when you cockwarm him, his length is so hefty and makes you feel so stretched - the weight grounds you as you struggle to gain friction against your poor neglected clit. you always feel so full when you're perched on his lap, the girth enough to turn off your brain and make you drool. sometimes when patrick is feeling bold, he prepares your outfit for the day and ensures that you're wearing a cute little skirt for easy access :( he can be selfish sometimes, on the occasion that he solely thinks with his dick

patrick loves pushing your knees up to your chest as he fucks you deeply in missionary - the feeling of your swollen pussy lips brushing against his veiny base and your clit grinding against his pubic bone gets him more worked up than he'll ever admit

it's fairly normal to have patrick's hand drift towards your chest in the back of a taxi, his face buried in the crook of your neck. keep your noises quiet or the driver might be curious about what's happening in the backseat. his cold fingers harshly pinching and tugging at your nipples make you abruptly moan into the brisk air in the back of the car, patrick subtly palming himself to the tortured whines leaving your lips. if you make eye contact with the driver, mouth that you're sorry for patrick's behaviour and try to save your dignity by biting your lip to avoid any loud noises. if they make direct eye contact with patrick first, however, expect him to pull a smug grin and flash your breasts to the angled rear-view mirror. he might even hike up your skirts to show off your soaked, borderline see-through panties. sneak the poor driver a tip on your way out because he nearly caused an accident, losing all brain function as his blood immediately drained from his head and rushed to his cock :<

patrick buys you two little platinum charms with a necklace chain, his initials engraved on the back of the heart shaped pendant. the other little shape is an axe, the edge of the blade set with tiny red garnets!! he is main motivation for having you wear it constantly is the fact that it makes a small clinking noise as you bounce on his cock, breasts swaying and your glimmering skin making the necklace a truly beautiful sight to patrick

_ _ _ _ _

ftm hcs

patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his admiring hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

if you're only just getting into wearing masculine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his man and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

you're lucky his designer boxers are easy to clean! every time he catches sight of your muscles tensing, he's undoubtedly leaking into the material. when you're stretching and your shirt rides up, when you grab something from the top shelf or even when you crouch to tie your shoelace - his cock doesn't discriminate so you'd better expect a small, darkening patch. the musk at the end of the day has such a heady rush when you kneel in front of him, his sweaty underwear mere inches from your lips. patrick swears you give his dick a heartbeat whenever you make out with his bulge and especially when you sloppily give him head :3

bateman is a huge fan of quickies with you before meetings with your mutual colleagues - he's booked for lunch after, there's no other time in his schedule to empty his heavy, full balls into you :( his favourite way to spend those precious moments is with you bent over his polished desk, expensive pants crumpled at your ankles and your precum dripping onto the carpet. he is a massive fan of teasing you by pushing his cockhead into your slick boycunt and stroking his cock, edging his length until you're whimpering from the need to be filled. he mocks you for being needy and massages his balls when he finally fills your warm hole with thick, potent ropes of cum. he leaves you unsatisfied and leaking his load for the whole meeting :( splash your face with water and try not to squirm too much in your seat - patrick's classic shit-eating grin might give away the events that transpire mere moments before you both walked into the boardroom

mtf hcs

patrick will pay for any surgery you could every want - with the small caveat that he must be the first person to see and touch you once you're all healed. his lightly concealed wonder at your altered appearance and his hums as he carefully traces the remaining swelling definitely help with your mood, breathlessly marveling at the miracle of modern medicine. he's praying you're happy with the outcome, it really was the best money could buy :(

patrick keeps himself well put together and likes to treat you to manicures on shared days out. he'll ask his friend's girls for the best nail salon in the area and insists taking you. after he comes along to pick you up and pay after the set is finished, sometimes he'll immediately take your hands and hum his approval at the colour or design. other times, he'll give you his overcoat and hide your nails until you get in a private area, bathroom or the back of a car - the reveal of your new nails when you slowly stroke his cock, spit slicked hand glistening, makes his eyes roll back in pleasure. your heated gaze and slightly flushed face makes him grin, happy that you're willing to drool on his cock and flaunt his money proudly. the perfect girl, in his opinion :>

if you're only just getting into wearing feminine clothing, you bet your ass that patrick is guiding you through the more expensive stores. no awkward phase, just the nicest clothing and most put together outfits to go out on the town!! as much as he understands how tough your body image issues can be, he's not having you look sloppy out in public - you're his girl and you'll always be looking like you belong by his side

patrick's favourite evening activity is fucking you in a mating press - his cock filling you and hitting that deep spot inside you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he loves the sight of your girldick bouncing on your tummy and the shine of your dribbling arousal smearing on your skin. nothing beats a relaxed evening with your tight hole warming his throbbing length

_ _ _ _ _

thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.

stay safe.

[morallyinept]

A full character analysis on DIETER BRAVO from the film THE BUBBLE.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to learn more about the character. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

FULL CHARACTER STUDY:

Basic Details:

Full Name: Dieter Bravo

Nickname(s): Unknown/not confirmed

Appears in: The Bubble, 2022 (first appearance on screen seen at approx. 09:43)

Age (if known): Unknown/not confirmed - possible mid to late 40's

Nationality: American - dialect unconfirmed

Sexuality: Possibly bisexual in the film, as he asks both female & male genders for sex

Family: Unknown/not unconfirmed

Spouse/Partner: Unknown at the beginning of film, however Dieter ends up in a relationship with hotel receptionist Anika, also a possible throuple/threesome situation with Kate, towards the end of the film

Relationship Status: Seemingly in a relationship with Anika at the end of the film

Current Living Status: Alive

Languages Spoken: English

Education: Not confirmed, although as Dieter is an actor, he would have basic school/college education, and possibly acting/drama school

Occupation:

Job Role/Title: Actor, playing the character Gio Ricci in Cliff Beasts 6

Special Skill(s): Acting, painting (Dieter paints in his hotel room, seemingly as a hobby), dancing

Notable Colleague(s): The Cliff Beasts 6 Cast

Distinguishing Features:

Tattoo(s): Bullseye tattoo on left hand between thumb and forefinger (Pedro's own), V tattoo on wrist (Pedro's own), elephant tattoo's on legs/thighs (Pedro's own), black, inverted triangle tattoo on right forearm positioned just below elbow and black triangle outline tattoo on left wrist

Piercings: Left ear pierced with single gold hoop

Scar(s): None notable

Other Markings: Freckles on neck

Eye Colour: Brown

Prominent Feature(s): Greying facial scruff, moustache, curled, fluffy hair

Injuries: Dieter passes out from a drugs overdose and goes into cardiac arrest, and has to be revived with an adrenaline needle in the chest directly to the heart

Hair Colour: Brown, slightly greying

Personality:

Traits: Addictive, sarcastic, dulcet

It's hinted that Dieter has won an Oscar, which is ironic considering his character seems to be cast in such a poor movie as Cliff Beasts 6.

Dieter's tone of voice is slightly gravelly and deep, and he speaks softly most of the time, unless he has a point to make, or gets overly excited. His accent is predominantly American, although it's not revealed where he is from directly.

Dieter is allergic to peanuts. Sean declares his allergy in the scene where they try to revive Dieter.

It's often stated by critics/character descriptions online, that Dieter is "addicted to drugs and sex." Bear in mind though, that we don't actually see Dieter have sex at all in the film, even though he asks, aside from the mirror scene, which is a hallucination whilst he's high on acid tabs.

Dieter is seen taking a variety of drugs, from his own stash, in the film such as cocaine, pills, laughing gas (black balloon) and acid tabs. He's also seen drinking whiskey and champagne.

Dieter states "change me. Change me. Change me" into the mirror, suggesting he is aware of his drug issues and wants to change.

Pedro contributed majorly to Dieter's overall look in this film.

Dieter's look has been likened to The Dude from the 1998 film The Big Lewbowski.

Dieter's black inverted triangle tattoo looks to represent the victims of the Nazi's in concentration camps known as 'asocials'. (You can read more about this at the bottom of this post.)

Dieter wears a Tibetan looking woven bracelet, hinting that he could be Buddhist.

Dieter is a keen painter. In his hotel room, you can see numerous paintings on the walls and also several canvases scattered around his room in various stages of completion. His pants also have paint on them in some scenes. Dieter also paints a large mural of the artist Franciso Goya's, Saturn Devouring His Son, on the wall. (You can find out more about that specific painting at the bottom of this post.)

It could also be assumed that Dieter has neurotic tendencies. For example, he states he doesn't wear wireless earbuds due to believeing the EMF frequencies will mess with his brainwaves.

It's apparent that Dieter seems the type to fall in love easily, as he does with Anika, and refers to her as "an angel."

Fashion/Outfits:

Outfit 1 - (Opening scene) Green gown, purple/mauve round neck t-shirt, brown pyjama/lounge pants, sunglasses

Outfit 2 - (Dinner table scene) Light sand coloured button up shirt, sunglasses (bottom half not seen in scene)

Outfit 3 - (Dog fighting scene) Brown Teddy coat, grey pants, beige/cream round neck t-shirt, crocs

Outfit 4 - (First Tiktok dance scene) Purple/mauve cardigan, beige/cream round neck t-shirt, grey/white striped pants, grey thick socks, crocs

Outfit 5 - (At the desk with Anika scene) Beige/cream round neck t-shirt, brown striped pants with what appears to be blue paint on the right thigh

Outfit 6 - (First Scene as Gio) Red mountain jacket, black cargo pants, black backpack, dark hiking boots

Outfit 7 - (In the lounge scene) Purple/mauve cardigan, beige/cream round neck t-shirt, grey/white striped patterned pants, grey thick socks, crocs

Outfit 8 - (Quarantine montage scenes) Beige/cream round neck t-shirt, brown striped pants

Outfit 9 - (Passing the plate through the doorway scene) Green gown, white round neck t-shirt

Outfit 10 - (Meditation scene) Green gown, beige/cream round neck t-shirt, grey pants, grey thick socks, crocs

Outfit 11 - (Tracking probe Scene) Zebra striped sweater, three quarter length dark grey cargo pants/long shorts that look to be covered in paint, grey thick socks, crocs

Outfit 12 - (Pippa & Gunther sex proposition & Kate mirror scene) Beige/cream round neck t-shirt, brown striped pants, grey thick socks

Outfit 13 - (Vomit scene) Beige/cream round neck t-shirt, grey pants, black underpants

Outfit 14 - (Carol's plan scene) Beige/brown sweater, grey/white striped pants, crocs, grey thick socks

Outfit 15 - (Toilet plunge scene) Green gown, beige/cream round neck t-shirt, brown striped pants, sunglasses

Outfit 16 - (As Gio) Blue/green long sleeved sweater, black thermal vest, black cargo pants, dark hiking boots

Outfit 17 - (Beck dance scene) Brown Teddy coat, purple/mauve round neck t-shirt, brown striped pants, crocs

Outfit 18 - (ET interview scene) Velvet brown patterned shirt, black jeans, black boots, sunglasses

Outfit 19 - (Drugs scene & Tiktok dance scene) Brown Teddy coat, grey shorts/boxers, sunglasses, grey grey thick socks, crocs

Outfit 20 - (Red carpet scene) Black silk floral/embossed suit, black mesh see through shirt, black shoes

Outfit 21 - (Featurette) Dieter wears a blue button up shirt with white check lines, sunglasses

Accessories: Sunglasses, Tibetan style woven bracelet on left wrist in primary orange/red/blue colours, silver wolf head ring worn on left pinky finger, silver ring with black gemstone worn on left pointer finger, gold hoop earring in left ear, black iPhone.

Weapons Used:

Weapon(s): As Gio only, fire pulse gun

Modes of Transport:

Vehicle(s):

Dieter is a passenger in a helicopter. Model used is an Airbus Helicopter AS355 F1, G-BOSN. (The helicopter was also involved in an incident on set when a fire broke out during filming. No-one was confirmed hurt or injured.)

Dialogue:

🗨 See Dieter's full dialogue from the film, including deleted scenes.

Further Character Links (if any):

The Bubble Behind The Scenes, Small details you missed in The Bubble, Dieter Bravo Behind The Scenes, Director Spotlight On Set Featurette, Dieter as Gio Scenes

The Black Inverted Triangle & its meaning

Goya's Saturn Devouring His Son painting

Samples of Dieter's Wardrobe - Green robe, velvet shirt, brown striped pants, Gio's red jacket, Gio's thermal vest, zebra sweater & sunglasses info obtained via Styleofpascal IG

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

[heartcomms]

days over a minute

pairing: abby anderson x reader

a/n: this is my very first time writing anything I post so please keep that in mind <3 also if this is similar to anything i apologise, i admit i’ve been inspired by multiple works on here so.. i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: swearing, allusions of drug addiction, violence, abby is really terrible but it gets better i promise

wc: 3k

as the car got closer to your new home stadium, your felt air get stuck in your throat. you knew your social media team kept a smaill camera focused on you to capture small candid moments to share with fans of the club, so you tried your best to remain calm.

as if he could tell how nervous you were getting, your new manager’s voice interrupted your inner chatter. still trying to get used to the accent, your eyes followed to where the older man was pointing and listened carefully,

“this is the hotel where you’ll be staying for today, i’ll have my assistant carry your luggages there while you visit the stadium.” he casually said. he might’ve noticed the way your brows faintly knitted at the mention of your luggages.

you did feel a bit uncomfortable with the idea of people pampering you, people scrambling to meet your needs and expectations. you still haven’t coped with the fact that you had, or were about to sign a multiple million dollars contract to run behind a ball.

you looked back at your manager and nodded you head with a small smile to ease the tension that was building up in the car. he just looked back at you sternly and whispered word as he turned his head back to the window.

well. what a start.

you also focused back on the road. as the car pulled into a small tunnel, you caught glimpse of your reflection in the car window. corners of your mouth rise a bit as you watch your golden pendant shine, your hand found its way around it, something you did often to calm yourself.

faster than you realized, the driver had parked into the training academy’s parking lot. you let the older man with you in the car come out first and quickly followed his steps. as you got out of the car, you were greeted by another group of people, three men and a woman that introduced herself to quickly as she guided you and your team into the building.

while she tried to engage into small chatter to fill the blanks, aware of the interaction being filmed. you were again introduced to more and more people as you walked around the spacious building, finally the conversations and introductions stopped you reach your new team’s head coach office.

as you shook the man’s hand, it all suddenly became real. this was it - you were a professional soccer player now.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, and took in your surroundings, the background chatter all blurred. this was it - you were a professional soccer player now. the excitement was building up inside you, but so was the pressure, you knew that all eyes would be on you, both on and off the field, you couldn't help but feel a wave of doubt wash over you.

did you deserve to be here?

could you live up to the expectations of your new team and fans?

you pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present moment. you were here, and you were ready to give it your all. the journey wouldn't be easy, but you were determined to make the most of this opportunity.

the day went by faster than you would realize. you had to sign a couple more contracts, get to know the grounds where you will play and train, do interviews, and photoshoots.

it was bit later in the afternoon, you did went back to hotel to get ready for your first outing in london, with your new teammates. to say you were nervous was an understatement. you wouldn’t describe yourself as introverted but you did feel a bit anxious about meeting your new teammates, like anyone else would.

what if they didn’t like you ? tons of what ifs scenarios filled your thoughts before you took a breath as you stood in front of your bathroom’s mirror, trying to calm you nerves. you took last good look at yourself and texted lewis, your new manager, that you were ready. you carefully chose an outfit that was simple yet fitting with the help of two friends back in your hometown via facetime. you opted for a black, oversized blouse paired with matching black jeans. anticipating a lot of walking, you wore a pair of black loafers and added tiny pieces of jewelry to polish off your outfit.

you went to check your phone after hearing the device ring, it was lewis telling you he was waiting for you outside the hotel so you quickly grabbed your bag and went to meet the older man outside the hotel.

the drive was less tense than it was this morning, you did get to know lewis a little more, he was born and raised in north london so he knew the city very well, he insisted on giving you a tour in a few days. he had 2 daughters who loved football as much as he did and a little dog called elon, after elon musk, which made you frown a bit because why on earth would you name anything after that man?

when you pulled to the restaurant, you felt your heart bit a little faster than earlier and your hands getting a bit more clammy. you took a deep breath and followed lewis who was already out of the car waiting for you. as he locked the car, he smiled at you with a reassuring look,

“it’s going to be okay, be yourself, i’m sure they’ll like you alright.” he affirmed before you both walked into the restaurant. he showed you the way to the table where your teammates sat as you reached the table, you felt yourself stumbled on your feet and stepped back a bit. you didn’t expect to meet 22 people at once, wow. you did know you were meeting a whole team but the sight of all 22 women did shake you up a bit.

“hi, are you the new girl ?” your head turned in the direction of the woman who spoke to you, looking at her, you felt like you were seventeen again. you were taken back by how gorgeous the woman was. the restaurant’s dim lighting made her tanned skin beam, she had a mole above her plump red lips and one on her left cheek. her eyes were a beautiful shade of blue, so light they were almost grey and she had brown hair that was highlighted by some dark blonde streaks. she had on a black strapless top, a black mini skirt and a pair of black heels. she had a soft smile on her lips and held eye contact with you as you stuttered an answer.

“uh. yes. i’m y/n.” you tried your best to reciprocate the smile she had on.

“i like your name. i’m vladlena, but everyone calls me lena. come, i’ll introduce you to the girls.” you noticed a small accent, you couldn’t quite locate it but it did sound east european, maybe russian. vladlena took you by the arm and led you closer to the table.

“guys, y/n is here!” she cheered.

you smiled and whispered an ‘hi’ to the women at the table. vladlena, still holding your arm, patted the chair next to the one she was going to sit on, signalling you to sit on it. you both sat and the conversation started again.

“is everyone here, i don’t see andy?” vladlena asked as she looked around the table.

“yeah, she said in the group chat, she’ll be late. some issues with her dad.” a woman that looked like she was your age answered. she also had an accent but she sounded local, british. “oh, i’m leah, by the way, so nice to meet you.” she was a bit far from you, so she just smiled at you. you nodded, smiling back to her.

“speaking of group chat, i’ll add you. you have a english phone number, right?” vladlena asked you as she pulled her phone out of her small bag.

you also pulled out your phone and start reciting the digits.

Waltfield Girls ⚽��

+44 7911 123456 added you

“guys, andy’s here.” a voice far from you announced.

you looked up from your phone to look at the person that was coming in.

oh my god.

you almost dropped your phone when you saw who was coming up to the table. you’d heard your new teammates refer to her as ‘andy’ but you didn’t make the connection. Abigail Anderson. you felt your ears get hot and your palms get clammy as she got closer and closer. you idolised her. you were only a couple of years apart but her talent put years between the two of you two. she was a national hero at only 24 years old, being a well decorated player both with her and the football clubs she played in, her impact in women’s sport was also quite undeniable. you were just in awe. you knew you were going to meet her, you dreaded this part of the day, in fear of embarrassing yourself in front of oh so great anderson.

“hi everyone, sorry i’m so late, had to drop my dad off at airport.” she stated with an apologetic tone and a small smile.

“andy! don’t apologise kotik, it’s okay.” she threw her phone on the table as she stood to up to go hug abigail. abigail hugged her back and quickly kissed vladlena on the forehead and sat at the head of table. vladlena sat on abigail’s lap and got the conversation going again.

abigail’s legs were spread apart leaving just enough space for vladlena’s legs to cross, her tiny skirt riding up. abigail’s left arm rested around vladlena’s slender waist and vladlena’s right arm sat around abigail’s neck. they looked like the jock and cheerleader couple from every single cheesy movie you’ve seen before. you looked away from the pair and glanced around the table. abigail had everyone in this sort of trance. from the moment she sat down, the conversation only revolved around her. even when she didn’t speak, the conversation would somehow comeback to her. you enjoyed listening to everyone talk about their vacations, their world cup anecdotes and latests gossip.

you eventually got to talk to almost everyone on the team during the dinner, you got numbers here and there and warmed up a bit more to the team, as you talked with everyone, you found out that two girls of the team were staying in the same hotel as you, sofia and bruna, the pair played in the brazil national team and just came back from the world cup. they both transferred from their academy a few months ago and still haven’t found a place to permanently reside in. they were kind enough to ask you to join them on their house hunting journey and you gladly accepted.

“guys, let’s take a picture for insta!” vladlena said as she got up to pick up her phone next to your chair.

everyone scurried around abigail to pose for the picture.

“lena, wait. let’s put y/n in the middle, since she’s new.” abigail said while standing up from her chair to let you sit in it.

you felt the hair on your body stand when you heard her say your name. you hesitatingly sat in her chair, thanking her with a shy smile. you sat down on the chair and leaned into it. you flinched a little when you felt hot hands in your shoulders, you tried your hardest to keep the teenage girl squeal that almost came out when you looked up and met abigail’s glance. you quickly looked back at the camera and posed for the picture.

“in the box, ladies !” vladlena chirped.

everyone went back to their seats, and got back to their little chats. you also took time to get to know more of your teammates, then came the time to eat. you’d all decided that you’d all leave before 10pm because you all had practice to tomorrow. sofia and bruna had asked to go back to the hotel you three stayed with them and you had agreed cause why not.

tracy, who sat on the opposite side of you, left first, the entire team huffed when she argued that she missed her daughter.

“she always does this when we go out.” bruna whispered next to me.

after quite sometime more girls started leaving. you also felt time fall on your shoulders and got more and more stale. you tried to keep up with the small conversations around you but failed to register anything. you glanced around the table and noticed that you, bruna, sofia and two other girls that names you forgot were the only ones left at the table. you mentally patted yourself on the back for actually staying that long.

“y/n. we have to go out for a smoke, do you want to come with us ?” you hear bruna say, taking you out of your inner rambling.

“yeah sure, i’ll just go to the bathroom first.” you announced before getting up to look for the bathroom. you almost whistled when you pushed the door of the bathroom. everything was impeccable.

you quickly jumped inside a random stall and you eased yourself. as you stood up to get out of the cabinet, you hear the bathroom door slam and flinched at the person who just entered the bathroom’s voice.

“stop fucking following me, lena, i’m gonna get violent.” the woman said.

you hear heels clanking on the bathroom tiles.

“abby, this isn’t you. look at me babe. you’re not you right now, okay?” you recognised vladlena’s accent.

you sat back on the toilet with your feet up, not wanting to make yourself known. you almost laugh at how nosy you were being.

“where did you put them, you fucking bitch. i fucking told you. i- oh my god,” heavy breaths and heavy steps resonated in the large bathroom.

you flinched again when you heard a thump against the door next to the stall you were in.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about, baby, i’m so-,” her heels clanked against, you guessed she was getting closer, to who you assumes was abigail.

“shut the fuck up, you bitch,” she grunted, you tried not to gasp when you heard the slapping noises.

you hear vladlena gasp.

“abby. abby, please. please stop. you’re choking me.” she struggled to let out. abigail was choking her.

you had to get out there. you had to help her.

“where. are. the. fucking. pills. you stupid fucking bitch,” abby grunted again, you could hear vladlena let out small whimpers. you were just stuck, you couldn’t move. your own breath hitched and you felt your entire body got cold. your arms were stuck together around your legs. you just couldn’t believe what you were hearing. vladlena’s gasps got louder, you just shut your eyes, praying she would stop.

“you, you need help, abby,” she whimpered, “i am helping you, kotik.” abby let out a breathy laugh.

“you think you’re helping me, you cunt?,” she spat, ”these pills were prescribed to me, you fucking idiot, they help me more than you ever will, bitch.” she hit vladlena and the poor girl moaned.

“abby. abby, please, please stop. you’re going to kill me.” she gasped again. you knew you had to do something but you just couldn’t move. you knew for a fact that you couldn’t take abigail out in a fight, she was massive, compared to you. you couldn’t come up with anything, your whole mind was blank. you were scared.

you heard struggle noises, vladlena tried to fight abigail back but failed, she gasped again.

“fine, fine, i’ll tell you.”

her heels clanked again and she inhaled again.

“i’m sorry abby. i, i was just trying to, to help you-“, she sniffed.

“do you want to get hit again, you whore?” abby spat. “where are they?”

“no, no!”, vladlena whispered. “i hid them at my place, okay, you take me there and i’ll give them back.”

heavy steps resonated again in the bathroom.

“you try anything funny, i’ll fucking kill you, lena, i’m not fucking joking. let’s go.” she hissed.

heels clanked again.

“wait, babe, i have to clean up. they can’t know.” her voice was low, your heart broke even more.

“10 minutes. i’ll wait for you in my car.” heavy steals resonated again, as well the sound of the door opening and closing behind her.

abigail is deranged. you felt sick.

you heard vladlena sniff again and you before you even registered what you doing, you were out of the stall. vladlena was already looking at you through the mirror. you couldn’t help your heart from breaking into more pieces when you saw the state she was in. her hair was now out of her tight ponytail and disheveled, her red lipstick was smeared and her black mascara and eyeliner had stained her cheeks. her eyes were red and glossy. she had red marks all over her throat.

“did you hear everything?” she didn’t turn around to face you, still looking at you through the mirror. your mouth felt dry, it just fell open but you couldn’t say a word. you just slowly nodded.

she sighed and took tissue out of the dispenser in front of her and made a pile. she pulled a hair tie out of her small bag and tied her hair. she dried her cheeks with one of the tissues for her small pile. you just looked at her. you felt like maybe keeping her company was helping in someway. so you just stood there,

she felt your eyes on her and spoke,

“i’m okay, you know.” she looked back at your reflection, “she needs help. she.. abby, she’s going through something right so. it’s okay. we’re okay.” she gave you a small smile. you tried to give her one back.

“we’re gonna go back home, she’ll have a xanax...or two, we’ll have some makeup sex and she’ll be good as new.” this poor girl. you watched as she pulled out a small concealer container and applied some on her face and on her throat. she winced a little when she tried to blend the concealer on her neck. she applied some mascara and let her hair fall on her shoulders again.

“how do i look?” she said with a smile on her face. this time she turned and looked at you. you couldn’t look at her in the eyes. you fell eye to eye with the poorly covered marks in her neck. you felt like crying.

“hey! eyes up here young woman!” she chuckled. how was she doing all of this. you assumed she was in a denial state about what happened to her. you felt sorry and scared for her. what if it happened again? what if this time abigail didn’t stop?

you worked up the courage to look at her in the eyes. she looked so bright yet so sad.

“y-you look great.” what a fucking loser, you were.

“great!” she turned around and put her things back in her small bag and turned around again,

“hey. i’m okay. yeah?” you nodded, “if anyone asks, and i mean anyone, asks, you say that you caught us having sex in the toilet, okay?” you nodded again. “great! you have my number, right? you call if you need anything, i mean, anything.” before i could react, she wrapped her arms around your body and kissed your cheek,

“you have a goodnight, love. thank you for staying with me.” and with that she left.

you let out air that you didn’t even know you were holding.

what the fuck.

you looked at your reflection and worked up the courage to go back to the girls waiting for you outside. you went back to the table and saw that everyone was gone. you looked around the chairs, looking for your phone and your handbag but failed to find them. exactly what you needed to end the weirdest day of your life.

you hesitated between just sitting back in defeat on a chair and waiting the police to take you out or going to look outside if bruna and sofia were still outside the restaurant. you chose the latest option. you stepped out of the restaurant and luckily, you found bruna, waiting for you with your handbag in her arms. you sighed in relief.

“what took you so long, friend” she said handing you your bag.

“if i tell you won’t believe it.” you plainly stated. she just shrugged and asked if you’d care for a ride back to your hotel. you jumped in the car with her, you didn’t have it in you to deny yourself a free ride. the ride back wasn’t that long, bruna insisted on walking you to your room despite the fact that the both of you had rooms on 2 different floors.

you got into your room and took a quick shower, got into comfy clothes and immediately fell asleep.

***

the next morning, you surprisingly woke one hour before your alarm. after tossing and turning in your bed, you decided to start your day. you check your phone before getting up. 8 am. you scrolled through all the notifications you’ve gotten while you were asleep. you frowned a bit you saw how many you’ve gotten. you check your hometown friends’ groupchat, the conversation was still on going so you scrolled up to see what was going on.

ellie🤍 i got so scared when i got the twitter notif i thought y/n got injured. i was abt to cry. turns out it’s WORSE. MY HERO ABBY💔.

dina💕 ???

ellie🤍 abby injury 💔 she probably won’t play until the next international break

you frowned even harder. what? when did she get injured? mind still foggy, you tapped a quick reply.

you wait ellie where did you hear about this ?

ellie🤍 oh look!!! it’s a professional football player 😨 you’re so busy you don’t even know what’s going with your teammates. wow.

you i’m serious ellie

ellie🤍 wait you fr didn’t know? here’s the link https://twitter.com/waltfieldfc/status/1700793208819622151?s=46

you clicked on the link and read the entire statement.

Waltfield FC @waltfieldfc

We can confirm that Abigail Anderson suffered a ruptured anterior cruciate ligament on Wednesday night.

Abigail will now begin a period of rehabilitation and is set for an extended spell on the sidelines. She will undergo surgery in due course.

Everyone at Waltfield will be supporting Abigail closely throughout the journey ahead and we would ask that her privacy is respected at this time.

We're all right behind you, @abby19anderson ❤️

“that’s bullshit”, you yelled to yourself still lying in bed. an acl injury is any footballer’s nightmare. how could they just lie like that. some players never come back from that. how could they?

you copied the link, and sent it to the number you saved as ‘lena’ yesterday.

you is this serious [link attached]

FINALLY! ahhhh hope this wasn’t too long… PLEASE GUYS BARE WITH ME this is my first time writing bare with me okay!!!!

[angelisgonnastartchangingurls]

alice, on a wednesday

a woman dropped alice off at annie's office, a woman that annie clocked as alice's bestie angel. they were communicating in sign language -- annie had noticed sometimes that when alice was speaking freely she would sign along -- annie had always observed her easily facility with language as a sign of alice's intelligence. she believed her to be a genius.

annie was aware that angel struggled with substance use, but to annie's eye she looked like a well-put-together 30something mom. maybe alice had exaggerated. one blind spot alice had, that annie took her to task for often, was a lack of sensitivity about addiction. alice herself was sober -- had been for over a decade, annie was fairly sure. she was intensely critical of angel and of her mother for their drug use.

when alice came into annie's office, it was her mother on her mind again. her father had called alice the previous night for guidance because her mother was, as alice described it, "in a coked-out frenzy." she told annie that she didn't believe it was fair for a great guy like her father to be saddled with a woman like her mother.

"i don't know," annie said. "your mother sounds like a pretty vibrant and warm woman."

"with absolutely no self control," alice countered.

"some guys like that," annie said. "most guys."

alice laughed. "i know. and i do know they love each other."

"how do you know?" annie asked, genuinely curious.

alice told her that when she was 15, she'd found a VHS recording of her parents having sex and she'd watched it. annie immediately thought of her own parents and tried to imagine such a thing. alice explained that she'd watched the entire thing in part because other than photos in porn magazines that boys showed her, she'd yet to actually see sexual intercourse happening. "i kind of love that about my own history," alice mused. "i very literally learned to fuck from watching my parents. and i still use a few of her moves."

"like what?" annie asked.

alice giggled. "just before putting my father's cock inside herself, she sort of holds it up against her stomach as she straddles him, like, showing him how deep inside her he will go."

"yeah, that's a good move if the guy is, you know..."

"hung like a horse?" alice said.

"is your dad...?"

"oh yeah," alice said. "genuinely, biggest dick i've ever seen."

"wow," annie said.

"no wonder i mostly fuck women, right?" alice said, "who could compare?"

having seen angel now, annie briefly imagined her and alice fucking -- they'd briefly been engaged before angel got married and had children. they were still very sexually active.

alice explained that watching the end of the sex tape, where her father cums on her mom's mouth and tits and then films her cleaning up in the shower, was one of the most romantic things she'd ever seen. "i really understood romantic love at that point. and i thought about how rare it is. my parents are from different countries, you know? what crazy luck that they found each other. i don't think there's a lot of hope for the rest of us."

"i don't know," annie said. "i'm still a romantic."

"you're still young," alice said. "how's ryan?"

"okay," annie said.

"you fucking more?"

"yeah," annie said. "i am also trying to sext him more? like, i send nudes but they're pretty casual. i'm trying to figure out how to... do more."

"have him take pictures of you first," alice suggested. "they you'll see how he sees you and you can frame yourself the same ways."

"that's a great idea," annie said. "what happened to the sex tape of your parents?"

"I kept it. It turns out he had lots of them," alice said. "still does, I mean, I see his phone. every time he shows me pictures of like, a trip they took, he scrolls past videos of her sucking his cock and touching herself and videos he made of himself jerking off."

"Good for them," Annie said.

"He's even filmed me," Alice said.

"Uh, how?" Annie asked.

"We were in France. We were on a clothing optional beach and he dared me to go skinny dipping, so I did, and he filmed me taking off my bathing suit and splashing around in the water naked."

"Did you like that?" Annie asked.

"Yeah," she said. "I like, I don't know, being perceived by him in that way. I think I look good naked."

Annie told Alice about her dad and the iPad.

"That's so cute," alice said. "Also I love that you have a bush? Very classy."

Annie blushed. "You know, just a little one. I tend to shave in the summer."

"I shave all year round," Alice said. She winked at Annie. Annie giggled.

"Do you want to show me the nudes you send your boyfriend?" Alice said, tentatively but firmly.

"Yes," Annie said.

"Is that crossing a patient/therapist line?"

"You're an artist," Annie said. "It's different."

"I agree," Alice said. "I'm all for special treatment."

Annie opened her phone and nervously scrolled to a photo she'd sent Ryan a few weeks ago of herself in just a pair of panties at home.

"Cute tits!" Alice chirped. "God, I wish I had those tits. I think this is a cute picture but it reads as silly rather than horny. Like I don't believe that you're begging to get fucked.

"When I'm begging to get fucked I think I do that in text. I told him to come over and fuck me in the ass a few nights ago."

"Good girl," Alice said. She handed Annie her phone. It was a picture of Alice sitting nude against a wall, legs open. Annie gawked at Alice's tiny, perky tits and her smooth cunt.

"You are gorgeous," Annie cooed. And I get it. That's horny."

"Yeah, you better believe I got fucked after I sent that."

"How is this one?" Annie asked. She showed her a bottomless photo she'd sent Ryan from his bed.

"This has fuck energy," Alice said. "I love it. And I love the bush, as expected."

"Well," Annie said. "Our hour is up, and now we have seen each other's pussies."

"All we need is to see each other's dad's cocks and then we'll really be able to get some therapy done," Alice said.

[bluedalahorse]

August and Rousseau are functionally the same character: the serious version

On Thursday evening, at my fanfic co-author’s encouragement, I posted about August and Rousseau being functionally the same character. This post was meant to be tongue-in-cheek, but there’s always been a serious, liberal arts college analysis version of it lurking in my head. I decided to go ahead and share it because what is the point of rejoining tumblr if I can’t torture the world with my Young Royals meta? (Do we even call it meta anymore? I am Fandom Old.)

So anyway, I have now written too many words about how Rousseau the horse is a narrative shadow for August, and how horse tropes are used to communicate August’s character arc. My ~credentials~ are as follows: I’m currently doing a terminal degree in writing literature for children and teenagers, and I have re-read the Felicity Merriman American Girl Books more times than I can count. I was not a horse girl in childhood, despite my mother trying to get me to be one by buying me Breyers and an alarmingly technicolor Lisa Frank notebook with a horse on its cover. (For Not Being A Horse Girl reasons there may be some errors in equestrian terminology here, but I’m gonna do my best. I invite genuine Horse Girls to weigh in with their knowledge and insight.) I have more thoughts about August as a character than I know what to do with, to the point where those thoughts have in part inspired the critical thesis on justice and privilege in YA lit that I am going to write for my MFA. These thoughts here on tumblr are merely for a fannish intellectual experiment, however, so I will not be as aggressive with the MLA and the footnotes as I would be in thesis work.

While I am an American of Swedish descent who has celebrated her Scandinavian heritage since childhood, I am still very much an American and my native language is English. Most of my lit theory here is therefore informed by the Anglo-American Horse Girl tradition, which I know got imported to a lot of other countries in translation. At the same time, I am aware that there are Swedish Horse Girl books out there, and I do not know as much about where they overlap with the Anglo-American tropes and where they differ. If anyone has knowledge in this particular area, please feel free to chime in.

Before we begin, I feel it necessary to issue a few notes about content. The first and most obvious content note is that this meta deals with August’s character arc, so I will naturally mention his releasing of the video and his other toxic masculine behaviors that harm the people around him. I will also make reference to his drug addiction, mental health issues, and possible disordered eating. In addition, there will be discussion of abusive relationship dynamics and adults invading the privacy of teenagers with the goal of controlling their romantic, sexual, and reproductive futures (particularly in the context of a monarchy securing its lines of dynastic succession.) You have been warned.

TOPICS COVERED

Horses in Literature and their General Vibe

Cinematography and Film Language in Young Royals

August, Felice, and Sara

Bloodlines and the Line of Succession

What’s next for August and Rousseau?

Horse/Power

Horses have long been symbols of wealth, status, and nobility. While literature and folklore offer their fair share of ordinary workhorses, the prince on a fancy white horse is an iconic fairy tale image. Historically, the ability to maintain a stable full of horses, specifically bred for battle or fine riding, was (and still is) a privilege only the rich can afford. Among the Romans, the second highest ranked social group after the senatorial class were the equites, named for the fact that they were rich enough to own horses they could bring to war. Fast forwarding to the modern day Young Royals, we see the wealth of Hillerska on full display in the stables. Even Felice’s parents, who have plenty of money to burn, remind her how much they spent on Rousseau.

August, of course, defines himself by his status. When we first meet him, he’s always going on about his father’s estate, bragging about flying off to restaurants in France, separating out who is nouveau riche and who is ancien regime—and so on and so forth. So what? you may be saying. Plenty of Young Royals characters are wealthy and own land. Why single out August and make him the character shadowed by the horse, just because of his money? Probably because of the other ideas horses get associated with in popular media. Horses in fiction are often temperamental, but their humans often work to control and tame horses in spite of that. There’s a certain tension and troubledness to fictional horses that makes them dangerous. Rousseau is no exception to this—Felice and others have difficulty managing him. We know August has a temper that gets the better of him. We also know he’s obsessed with control, and the first person he tries to be strict and controlling with is himself.

To put it more briefly, horses in stories can be used to open up a lot of questions about wealth and power and how that power is, well, reined in. Thematically, having Rousseau as a shadow to August’s character arc is an obvious choice.

Framed by the Stable Doors

The cinematography of Young Royals visually links August and Rousseau from the very beginning of the series. As early on as episode 1.2, a shot of Sara taking Rousseau out for a trot is followed immediately by a shot of August out on a run. (Or maybe it happens in the opposite order? Help.) These moments mirror one another—both of them are scenes of a moment of discipline and exercise, underscored by tense background music. Throughout season 1, even when August and Rousseau aren’t paralleled by the editing, they are at least paralleled by the writing.

As we move into season 2, the shots of Rousseau become more constrained as the threat of prison looms over August’s head. Rousseau is almost always behind a fence or restricted by some other architectural features. The bars(?) of Rousseau’s stall door echo the bars of a jail cell, while the trailer belonging to the Worst Kind of Horse People (TM) suggests a police van taking August away after a future arrest. These scenes almost always include Sara somewhere, and she’s often having reaction faces. As others have noted, Sara doesn’t speak much, but these visual cues offer hints about her internal mental landscape while also foreshadowing her eventual role as the one who turns August over to law enforcement.

I’m inclined to read these “imprisoned horse” scenes as Sara having internal conflict about her relationship with August. On some level, she is attempting to grapple with the fact that they’re already doomed because of August’s prior actions with the video. I don’t necessarily think this means that Sara is always thinking these things consciously and in words. Maybe it’s just a sense of foreboding in the pit of her stomach. Instead of having Sara try to articulate this in any sort of literal way, my guess is that the YR production team wanted to convey this part of her arc through visual language and symbolism. I think it works, once you’ve decided to buy into the horse parallels.

Does this mean we’ve segued into talking about the girls now? Probably. Might as well gallop ahead…

Enter the Equestriennes

Even outside of Horse Girl books, women on horseback are a repeating motif in Western literature. As various academics will tell you, equestrian women occupy a complex and problematic (in the academic sense) space on the page. On one hand, riding horses confers status upon these women and gives them some freedom of movement. On the other hand, equestrian women are often being trained for the patriarchy in subtextual ways. One thesis I looked at explains how in Victorian literature, riding was often used to facilitate female characters’ interaction with men in ways that eventually lead to marriage. You also examine the common Horse Girl cliché of that one special teenage girl who knows how to calm down the impossible horse, and understand it as a little sister to the “I can fix him” romance genre. As bastion of literary analysis TVTropes points out, ponies and the Troubled But Cute Boyfriend sure do have a lot in common.

Young Royals knows the tropes, and it wants you to know that it knows them.

Felice Ehrencrona doesn’t want to be a horse girl. Felice’s mother wants her to ride, because riding is what archetypal rich girls from Hillerska do. Throughout season one, we see Felice struggling with her riding classes and being afraid of Rousseau. While she gains more confidence with the help of Sara, she never truly grows to love being around Rousseau (as we can see by the way she quickly abandons her hobby later.) Still, for a while, Felice maintains the public image of the happy equestrian by posting pictures of herself and Rousseau to her Instagram and making additional posts that say she’s in the stables when she isn’t. Felice’s mother, believing this to be true, is delighted—until in 1.3 it comes out that Sara has been riding Felice’s horse instead, and Felice’s positive relationship with Rousseau is just a facade.

What holds true for horses holds true for boys, too. Felice’s mother is constantly putting pressure on her about boys, specifically in the way she encourages Felice to pursue Wilhelm. The fact that Felice knows stuff about the line of succession and whose babies get what rank (something she explains to the beleaguered American Maddie) suggests that Mamma Ehrencrona isn’t just interested in Felice having a nice boyfriend, she’s actually bringing marriage and babies into it. Which… is a lot. It’s so “a lot” that Felice rebels against her mother at the end of 1.3 by hooking up with August.

Although Felice’s initial act is one of rebellion, she ends up trapped back in the same place she started from, where socioeconomic status and performative gendered nonsense is prized above all else. August, after all, is still from the nobility and still comes with all that baggage Felice is getting from her parents. Felice’s relationship with August is very bad, especially behind closed doors where he’s constantly questioning her about who she’s with and where she’s going. To Hillerska at large, however, they give off the impression of being the school power couple. During moments of characters scrolling there phones we can see that in addition to being seen together, they also included photos of themselves together on one another’s instagrams. This contrast between the image and the reality of Felice’s relationship with August echoes Felice’s selfies with Rousseau.

As for Sara… well, if you nodded along to what I said before about the special teenage girl who is the only one who can tame the troubled horse, you probably already know where I’m going with this. Sara and August’s relationship doesn’t really come out of nowhere. Rather, they’ve spent an entire season taking a step closer to one another, literally and figuratively, every few scenes. You know the cliché where the horse girl visits the troubled horse every day and gets a little bit closer each time until the horse finally trusts the girl enough to eat sugar cubes out of her hand? Yeah. Same rhythm/pacing as the Sara/August scenes, and it only gets more obvious in season 2. That scene where he’s having a panic attack and she calms him down? He is a scared horse. We’re all on the same page, right? I hope we’re all on the same page.

In some ways, it’s not a perfect analogy and doesn’t always match up in a one to one way. Most horse girl books stay wish fulfillment and there isn’t always a moment of “the horse is Bad Actually, and we will remind you that the horse released a sex video of the horse girl’s brother.” But I think the horse girl novel coding speaks to what makes a relationship with August appealing to Sara in the first place. Deep down Sara wants to be special and exceptional to someone else, and she feels she understands things about August (and how to keep his emotions regulated) that other people don’t. As Sara sees it, she’s taken time to build trust with August. It’s the two of them together against really difficult odds, and she’ll take the difficulty that comes with that.

Also, while we’re here, the first place August kisses Sara is the stables. And there’s that entire conversation Felice and Sara have when Sara comes back after having sex in 2.3. I’m just saying. It’s right there. We’re all doing the math, right? We all see it?

People Of Good Breeding

Here’s where it gets even more icky.

In season 2, Felice decides to quit riding. This makes keeping Rousseau a bad investment, so Felice plans to sell him, and Sara decides to tag along. When a particular family expresses interest in Rousseau and comes to Hillerska to assess him, Sara swiftly dubs them the Worst Kind of Horse People.

What makes the Worst Kind of Horse People so upsetting to Sara? They don’t know how to respond to Rousseau, and they don’t treat him with the compassion Sara does. They’re willing to endure Rousseau’s volatile moods, however, because of he’s a thoroughbred and has a prestigious pedigree.

Things I did not know before watching a documentary about it: apparently all the thoroughbreds that exist in the world now are descended from three historical stallions. They are inbred af. IRL people who own thoroughbred stallions now will charge ~$50,000 per insemination in like a horse breeding hookup situation. Which… what? What the literal fuck. I get that this is a hobby people feel very passionate about and find fulfillment in, so I am trying not to be judgmental… and also that is a lot of money (more than half my yearly salary) for just one instance of breeding horses. So I’m still wrapping my head around it.

It stands to reason that the Worst Kind of Horse People could want Rousseau for his, um, genetic material. Anyway, let’s talk about the monarchy and the line of succession.

At the same time that the Worst Kind of Horse People are expressing interest in Rousseau, the royal court has started to pay attention to August. According to the YR fictional family tree, August is next in line for the throne after Wilhelm. Kristina’s advisors have plans to groom (see what I did there) August as a backup heir if Wilhelm keeps insisting on having free will. (Really! The audacity! Good for Wilhelm, though, we’re all rooting for him.)

For August, the idea of being elevated to spare prince, or potentially even king one day, feels liberating. Based on how he’s acting at the shooting range after his visit to the palace, he sees a chance for himself to leave his crimes behind and not be caught in his guilt. But I want to pause for a moment and consider the scene in 2.4 where he gets the phone call from the palace. Jan-Olof asks August a series of privacy-invading questions, including ones that touch on his sexual history. The final question (and therefore the one the writers want you to notice) is simply “are you heterosexual?” to which August replies that he is.

There’s a tempting rabbit hole I could go down about what it means for August to go beyond just engaging in toxic heterosexual behavior, and actually embrace heterosexuality as a label, and because it’s a tempting rabbit hole I will save it for another meta. What I want to focus on here is how sinister this scene feels. Part of that is because we (and Sara) know how blatantly and easily August is lying, and that he’s slipping back into his old, status-loving, drug-abusing self. In light of the established Rousseau parallels, however, I can’t ignore the subtext that the royal court is interested in whether or not they can “domesticate” August just enough that they can get him to eventually marry the right girl and produce a legitimate heir to the throne. That’s it. Nothing more. They aren’t interested in helping him with his addiction or getting him into therapy for his disordered eating or helping him process his dad’s death—all of which would put him in a better emotional place, and maybe even prevent him from returning to the emotionally dangerous mindset he was in when he outed Wilhelm and Simon to the entire world. On a metaphorical level, the royal court is basically treating August as livestock. Which. Is gross, actually.

Now, don’t get me wrong. We all know that August himself perpetuates a lot of gross sexual behavior toward others. Aside from releasing the video, he’s selfish and borderline emotionally abusive toward Felice, especially about sex. He constantly eggs on his classmates to stand up on the breakfast table and brag about their “conquests.” He eventually becomes extremely sweet and tender with Sara, but that’s only after he’s tried to get her to sell him drugs, bullied her family about not being able to eat lunch on Parents’ Weekend, and kissing her without her consent in the stables. August is very much Not Someone Who Respects The Sexual And Reproductive Autonomy Of Others and yet! There is this whole entire system of hereditary monarchy behind him, aiming to control every aspect of his life and violate his privacy, and he is a teenager. It’s not okay that they do it to Wilhelm either. We know they’re trying to do it to Wilhelm even now, and we get the sense they did it to Erik too, given the lines about the OnlyFans girlfriend needing to be hushed up.

I think it’s easy to say, well, August is power hungry and amoral enough that he consents to having his privacy invaded, and he does, but I legitimately wonder if he knows what he’s getting into. (Case in point: I think August really believes that the palace crowd would let him publicly date Sara. And, no. Even if Sara weren’t Simon’s sister, I can’t imagine they’d be excited about him dating the neurodivergent daughter of an immigrant mother and a father with a shady drug past. At the very least they’d force Sara to sign some pretty hefty NDAs.) My point is, you can consent to something and still end up in a weird power dynamic that’s bad for you and doesn’t honor where your feelings are. You can be a person of privilege who harms others, while still being harmed by systems of privilege yourself. And that’s precisely part of what makes August a compelling and complicated character.

Look, I just wish more people nowadays had seen the legendary 1990s anime Revolutionary Girl Utena because they would then get what I mean when I say that August isn’t Akio, he’s Saionji.

…I’m off track. My point is that the reproductive subtext in that scene is deeply unsettling and August’s nakedness in front of the window only makes it moreso. Right. Moving on.

What’s Next? The Horse and His Boy

(Apologies for naming this last section after a problematic Narnia book.)

Man. I wish I could just write August off and clamor for his untimely and violent death without a care in the world. The reality is that I’m under a curse, and that curse makes me want to see him eventually sort his life out, one way or another.

Let me be clear about what that does and doesn’t mean: I don’t mean that I don’t want to see him face consequences for the very real crime he did. I don’t mean I think he should suddenly be perfect and woke. I don’t mean that he and Sara should get back together. I don’t mean I want to see everyone forgive him. I just mean I want August to honestly confront the truth of his life so far and go “you know what? I suck. I can do better. I’m not even sure how, and I’m gonna make mistakes along the way, but maybe I can suck less.” And maybe he takes one tiny step where you’re like, if he keeps taking steps like this, this kid could turn out okay by age 40. Maybe. I feel incredibly exposed even saying this, since I know August is so widely despised by so many people in fandom, and I know other people who are okay with letting him stay in the villain zone, but I also feel like if anyone can pull off this story, it’s Lisa Ambjörn. She gets nuance, and she gets young people their flaws and their family conflicts. If YR were a different show, with a different writer and a different morality underlying the stories it tells, I would feel differently. But I don’t, and I think Lisa can pull off a complex story like that. So here we are.

(For examples of YA novels that pull off this kind of narrative catharsis, check out the character arc of the protagonist Deposing Nathan by Zack Smedley. Or pay attention to the uncle’s character arc in Randy Ribay’s Patron Saints of Nothing.)

There’s a very soft acting choice of Malte’s in 2.3, where August goes to meet Sara in the stables, to ask if she wants to come by and talk later. Sara’s getting Rousseau settled for the evening, and August reaches out and pats Rousseau on the nose. If I’m remembering the scene correctly, the usually temperamental Rousseau is calm in response.

We’ve seen August act self-aggrandizing before so he can build himself up and threaten other people. We’ve also seen him engage in escalating acts of self-harm (via excessive exercising and calorie counting) when he isn’t living up to his own strict standards. What we don’t see a lot is him having compassion for himself. If we accept that Rousseau is August’s shadow-self, then this nose pat is a rare moment of self-compassion. It’s at this point in the season that August realizes he needs to exist in community with other people, and that he needs to actually process his overwhelming emotions instead of lashing out at others. He makes an effort to try and quit using drugs, genuinely connects with Sara, and even briefly defends Simon when Vincent gets on Simon’s case after the indoor rowing match. It’s a positive trajectory and a glimmer of what could have been. That lasts until his visit to the palace, when August is offered the position as Wilhlem’s backup and starts to go back to his old ways. Moreover, the pressure of becoming the spare creates new complications for August’s mental health, and he slides back into lashing out at others again.

At the end of the season, August views Rousseau as a commodity and buys him for Sara in a Grand Gesture (TM) that’s actually pretty alarming and could be categorized as love-bombing. Sara is not impressed (I suspect she’s witnessed Micke love-bombing Linda, and all her alarm bells are going off) and continues her trip to the bus stop so she can report him to the police.

I could talk about the police call and the part where Sara is playing with a small horse keychain at the bus stop, but that might be the topic for another meta. Instead I want to take a moment to think about the practical fact that August owns a horse now. This opens up a few questions: if Rousseau continues to be August’s shadow-self, what does it mean for August to buy and own Rousseau? Is August going to have to learn to take care of Rousseau now? How much farther can we extend this metaphor?

Patience, comrades. We’re almost to the finish line.

By buying Rousseau, August has allowed himself to be bought by the aristocratic power structure that’s been trying to maneuver him into royal life. He’s started to actually use the inheritance left for him by his father—not because he’s finally started to process his grief, but because he’s doubling down on the idea that he deserves his inherited wealth and that he can use it as lavishly as he wishes. What’s interesting is the way he thinks this makes him into someone Sara will stay in love with. There’s the quid pro quo of it all, which is the obvious surface reading, but there’s also another level wherein August has been raised to believe that this is the ideal of aristocratic masculinity, and therefore what Sara would be attracted to. He assumes Sara wants the prince (even if he has to be a little bit Machiavelli’s the Prince behind the scenes to play that role.) But Sara wants the trust and care and connection, and a bond that’s a little bit weird and unique and ultimately private. She also values honesty and accountability. Sara doesn’t want the prince—she wants the horse. But not the literal one. And not necessarily in a material ownership kind of way, either.

As we move into season 3, I find myself wondering what’s next for August and Rousseau. Like. August owns a horse now. Is he going to have to take care of it? Like is he going to have to learn how to groom Rousseau and muck stalls and such? I get that he’s rich and can probably pay someone to do that for him, but given the way that Rousseau is meant to be a commentary on August’s character arc, there’s a lot of narrative potential (and dare I say… humor?) in August just having to learn to take care of the horse his own damn self in season 3. I feel like it could allow for some great moments of introspection on August’s part, if done well, and could lead him to a place of radical acceptance. We don’t even have to rule out August going to jail for his crimes, but knowing that jail is not the kind of thing that will happen in the first five minutes of the first five episodes, why not facilitate some internal character growth via horse chores first?

Alternately, August will just keep doubling down on making someone else do the horse chores. This would be consistent, if nothing else. He may just continue to be horrible, in which case I am worried for Rousseau.

(Please, Lisa Ambjörn and/or god and/or Epona. I am so desperate for this as-of-present unrepentant fuckboy to have to do symbolic horse chores that end up being about him finally coming to terms with the impact his counterrevolutionary behavior has on others. Is that so wrong?)

Anyway, I guess we won’t know until season 3. Thank you for sticking around if you’ve read this far—it ended up being way longer than intended! I’m back on tumblr after being away since 2015 or so, so this post feels like a wild way to reappear. But I’m glad I shared my thoughts all the same. Have a blessed Saturday, fandom.

[yumyumlum]

Wanted: Help To Develop Sonic Movie Characters - Lets Reach The Big Ones

Ok, so there are going to be quite a few updates here, and I need you to pay attention now because this is incredibly important.

I am looking for fan-artists and writers to help with this project. Especially fan artists because I am going to be developing a few characters I'd happily pay money for, for arts.

I want Jim Carrey and Lee Majdoub to see this as well, so please like, share and reblog as widely as you can. Thank you x

For those of you who don't know, I recently started writing in the Sonic The Hedgehog fandom for the first time.

I published a fanfic called Please Don't Leave Me, on AO3 and Tumblr, which you can find here.

It focuses on the debilitating C-PTSD that Dr Robotnik clearly suffers from, and the panic attacks he begins re-experiencing due to Agent Stone's friendship creeping in, finally forcing past traumas forward.

There are a lot of things that I noticed about Jim Carrey's Robotnik, and the friendship he has with Lee Majdoub's Agent Stone.

I thought at first that I was just projecting, as a survivor of domestic violence, and a witness of domestic violence towards others. But this guy clearly has more than just 'a chip on his shoulder' (as Carrey said in an interview), and it really made me go back and re-analyse his character again, to find out why this stuck with me so much.

I couldn't possibly imagine Jim Carrey coming out of retirement to play some random part on the big screen for some random branded film, just because some director or Carrey fan randomly selected him to be up there.

He is an incredible guy, a deep thinker, and sees things that others simply don't. There had to be an incredibly important message in that film series, to convince him to come out of retirement. Right in the middle of cancel culture and the way Hollywood and society is going, especially in America, and given the dark history of Sonic The Hedgehog... I think I've got it.

Sonic is rebooting, and Jim Carrey was selected to lead it.

The fact that Carrey is not too keen on modern trends and technology anyway, and the way it is destroying society, makes him perfect to play the role of Robotnik.

A Word On Bullying and Forced Terrorism

First of all, many years ago I saw this Ted Talk by Aaron Stark - I Was Almost A School Shooter.

Aaron talks about how he was bullied mercilessly as a child, raised by drug addicts and rejected by his mother on aggressive terms. He had no clean clothes or food, no stable home, a poor education, was overweight, self harmed and had many other issues going on.

In this talk, Aaron courageously braved the stage in order to create awareness of his past situation, and to help those suffering today.

He braved the stage to thank his best friend for sticking by him through thick and thin, even though he stole from him, lied to him and did everything in his power to push him away.

He braved the stage to thank his wife and children, and for showing others that even in the darkest of times there is hope. There is a future.

I found Aaron Stark's talk incredible, and his courage to speak out about such a controversial subject, so confidently and heartbrokenly at the same time. (I cried, and felt immense pride for him.)

Aaron Stark's childhood situation is apparently quite a common thing in America, and so is clearly an uncontrollable issue that needs more work put in, and kindness.

I immediately thought of the relationship between Agent Stone and Robotnik, and remembered how angry and scared I felt when I had been abused constantly on a daily basis. To the point where I even questioned whether I had been kidnapped as a child, because I simply could not process or think how or why I was in this dark situation when others were not.

I am now over 30, and I still have frequent panic attacks, starve myself, push others away and think of suicide. I have abandonment issues, multiple phobias, and have quite often psychologically self harmed without realising.

I by no means had the worst of narcissistic abuse in the world, and yet the damage it caused was absolutely catastrophic. So with this analysis of Dr Robotnik's character, I wanted to create a mini series, and have your help with it so that others can speak out too.

--

Ideally, I want Jim Carrey and Lee Majdoub to see this. Not for personal attention, but for consideration of character development.

I am scared, in a way because some of the things I have been through have been horrific, and I can't say too much without identifying myself online. I don't want to be identified online.

But I wanted to explore that past for Dr Robotnik, or have elements of it used perhaps in the upcoming movies, as it seems likely that this character development/story arc has already been placed since day one and is in full swing.

When Aaron Stark discussed his best friend's loyalty, in the Ted interview, he said something that really stuck with me, summed up Agent Stone and Robotnik's relationship perfectly, and made me want to quote it.

"But thankfully I wasn't alone in that darkness.

My best friend who had saved me, when I was sleeping in the shed, he saw this place that I was in.

Even though I had stolen from him, and lied to him, and taken his belongings and ruined it all, he didn't care, he still brought me in and showed me acts of kindness. Just simple acts.

It wasn't the kind of overbearing kindness where they say 'Is there anything I can do for you,' or 'is there something I can do to make you better?' or 'how can I help you?' It was literally just sitting down next to me, 'hey, would you like a meal? Let's watch a movie.'

He treated it like it was a Tuesday, he treated me like I was a person. When someone treats you like a person, when you don't even feel like a human, it'll change your entire world, and it did to me."

I haven't properly written fan fiction in over ten years, and I'm sure that there are others who can write this story much better than me.

But I am going to put into it what I can do, and I would love for others to explore this as and how they see fit, and publish what they can, and give character analysis and feedback.

The one thing Jim Carrey said was, he loves the fact that Sonic is about family, and love. I can't imagine him playing Eggman without some kind of character redemption.

I think it'd be cute as Stone helps Robotnik fit in with his own little family, if he starts realising (just like Sonic) that there are many things that he has never done... and his new family helps him with that too.

Also an important message is that, Sonic grew up alone but had help and support right from the very beginning, with people who loved and care for him and tried to safeguard him, shaping him into the innocent and pure person he is, despite everything.

Whereas Robotnik didn't, so the comparison is incredibly important there but doesn't stop them from growing as characters and working together, and doing the right thing in the end. Yes they can both change the world for the better, but only if they work together.

I also think it'd be cute if the two families are direct opposites and parallels of each other, like a study piece. Also displaying the faults and successes of the fostering system.

Example; Tom and Maddie are Sonic's foster parents. Sonic is like the difficult ADHD child, and they don't judge him or abandon him, they try and work with that. Tom literally quits his promotion to take care of Sonic, placing him at top priority and endangering himself in the process to ensure the correct safeguarding of Sonic.

Dr Robotnik does not understand this form of love, and asks why he would throw his life away for this creature, who simply didn't belong. I believe this is a direct projection of his own feelings, and the way he was treated as a child. He wasn't a person, he was a freak, a creature, trash and nobody cared enough to even check if he was alive or safeguard him.

Maddie's sister tries to keep Maddie away from Tom, obviously hurt herself once before and fearing that Tom will hurt the one she loves (Maddie.) However she comes to forgive Tom and love Sonic, realising that sometimes you just have to let people love you, and heartbreak is an emotion you just have to risk while hunting for happiness.

-

In comparison, Agent Stone tries to be the best friend to Dr Robotnik that he probably never had as a child. Therefore comparing how he slipped through the foster systems cracks (no support, unkind families interested in the money side of fostering only etc.)

(Similar to how Tails never had a friend when he was bullied and finds one in Sonic. I believe Sonic is his hero because he never stops going, no matter what. Just like how Dr Robotnik never stops going, no matter what, yet is a very misunderstood character due to his reluctance to open up to people. His defense mechanism is to project what he's convinced people always wanted to see in him - evil.

I believe that if another is involved (a female, for example - important), she would become the surrogate sister/mother/best friend that Robotnik badly missed growing up with, and still misses desperately even now.

This could be Agent Stone's sister, allowing Stone and Robotnik to have a gay/brotherly relationship in the movies, with the sister being the third wheeler - generally doing everything to annoy Robotnik, but constantly being forgiven because she is as stubbornly irritating as he is, and there's a lot of squabbles and exposure therapy there.

Therefore when Dr Robotnik becomes part of their family, she sort of adopts him as a surrogate mother, and helps him work through his issues with Stone (calling him a pain in the ass though) kind of like how Dr Leonard Hoffstader and Penny did with Sheldon in the Big Bang Theory.

Where Robotnik is precise, perfect and very OCD, she is scatty, unreliable, young, humorous, fairly uneducated and needs to grow as a character and learn responsibility. But she can kick ass and will do anything to defend the ones she loves the most.

Can I also just say that Jenna Ortega would be perfect for this role, if they do not find someone even better. There has to be a certain level of sarcasm and dark humour that only Dr Robotnik could appreciate.

In fact Stone's sister could even be adopted and have suffered herself through the fostering system, making friends and struggling, but she always had her wingman Stone to look after her wounds and cuddle her as a brother when she was sad and alone. Again, the comparisons.

This could be kept a secret from Robotnik for a while (probably not purposefully), so he suddenly finds her very intriguing. If the directors wanted to take this route, perhaps there is some growing tension there at some point when the doctor grows to accept her and love her as Stone's sister, and questions whether he's attracted to her romantically, or as a person, a little sister and he just wants to protect her and annoy her back in return.

This would open the possibility for a few plot developments:

Stone and Robotnik have a gay relationship. Robotnik is distracted by #sister and Stone notices (or doesn't) and worries. Like a Will/Elizabeth/Jack thing from Pirates Of The Caribbean.

Sister later has a baby with a man who abandons her (again the comparison of abandonment.) Stone and Dr Robotnik take charge and Dr Robotnik tries to become the father he never had, because his child will come first.

Stone accepts Robotnik and sister as a couple. The two males continue with a brotherly love, and a threesome family relationship. Stone always wanted to help people as a child, and become a therapist or an agent, so that's what he's become. He has a heart of gold, and the couple worship him for making the world a better place to live in. The importance of his character - protection, safeguarding, love, help, forgiveness.

Thank you.

[stronghours]

saw the cat person movie with @drdemonprince last night, a truly national event, and while definitely like, artistically and craft-wise a bad movie, it was a treat for a couple people who did not like the short story at all - the interesting, charming, and intriguing things about it, though absolutely not done on purpose, really underscored the dysphoria between the reader reaction to the short story itself and the reality of the writing (bad)

1 - the short story came out in 2017! I'd only been in chicago for 10 months! truly this was a geological age ago.

2 - the twitter discourse on the publication of this short story was more encompassing and wild than the short story itself. people compared it to "the lottery". people called it "the first viral short story". people called it haunting and twisted and nasty and trenchant and intense. the extreme blurbage really set it up for a vaster failure to me specifically (the only opinion that truly matters) when I read it and thought it was like, a kind of dull story with listless characters.

3 - short stories have been adapted before! Frank Perry did The Swimmer back in the sixties! He had Burt Lancaster! (don't know where I was going with this - I think was going to say an actually literally wise director can adapt cleverly from brief material, but then I remembered I have not actually watched The Swimmer yet and probably shouldn't say that in good faith)

4 - so anyway - and once again, I think this was absolutely done unintentionally, so not 'good' per say - Cat Person The Movie portrays yes, the text of the short story, but due to both the deficiencies in the text and the deficiencies of the filmmakers, forces itself to literally play out the fantasies of the mass reader reception, fantasies that arguably swallowed the actual short story itself - that this was a chilling portrayal of modern dating/war of the sexes/misogyny/male violence, etc.

5 - I believe these fantasies happened because, 1, a lot of people aren't textually very wise. it is truly fandom bullshit. people have an intense emotion from deficient text or content and then start squeezing blood from stone and things snowball from there

6 - while, once again, I say, the movie most definitely not doing this shit intentionally, it had enough awareness for the usual tongue-in-cheek stuff, not because this was "the good thing to do craft-wise" but because tongue-in-cheek awareness is de rigueur these days, and because the adaptors, though maybe not craft geniuses, have the pragmaticism of Movie/Film People and were like "we absolutely do not have enough shit to go off on" and, again unintentionally, squeezed blood from stone just like the readers from yesteryears and managed to beautifully mimic the mass delusion that surrounded, again, this fucking bad and boring short story and managed to bring some actual violence to the table

7 - due to the fact that this is a Film with Actors and had Moving Visual Images, it benefited from like, you know, some of the actors being charming and kind of funny

8 - the story came out, again, in 2017, the stone ages, and modern dating and the twitter lit scene has gone through several more geological cycles since then, so the whole thing felt just a little old fashioned. the salad days!

9 - the ending close up on Margot's shit-im-nutting face when the second guy asks her out at the movie theater is such a fucking funny choice and departure on the og story, that this girl is now addicted to the rush of thinking every dude she dates is going to stalk/kill/drug her - (and she's correct! robert was, apparently, willing or contemplating to do two out of three of those things! but also - maybe she's crazy too and, you know, kind of deserves it?) like, such a hysterical and cynical choice, masterstroke.

10 - bad story! (no stars)

11 - bad movie! (five stars, would see again, love and light to all)

12 - The Swimmer (1968) dir. Frank Perry and starring Burt Lancaster is free on Tubi

[erinnkenobi]

Fall into me | chapter three

"The saddest thing in life and the hardest to live through, is the knowledge that there is someone you love very much whom you cannot save from suffering.." — Agatha Christie

Chapter one - Chapter two - Chapter three

pairing | Spencer Reid x fem!reader

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 | Things changed after Spencer was taken hostage.

"There was no sun in my sky, No mirrors for monsters, and No love in sight. Then you walked down those stairs And I knew my heart wasn't mine"

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 | +7.3k sorry not sorry hon' and good lucky

TW 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 | bad English, inappropriate language, awful situation, mention of drugs, addiction, mental health awareness, comfort in each other, reader has trust issues, kidnapping, episodes set No way out and Revelations all from season two

Author's note | hope you enjoy and don't kill me, I didn't reviewed the story.

Seriously that you got a call early in the morning? You begrudgingly get up and do what you need to do, you call your neighbour that is usually awakened at this time and ask I'd she could look after your dog for certain periods, to which she agreed.

Arriving at the BAU, you meet the new agent, Agent Prentiss, you have heard this name once, nevermind.

The moment you saw what JJ was showing on the screen, you got it, you have watched plenty of sci-fi movies and action films, it was a biological weapon, but you said nothing since Prentiss started showing off her skills in Arabic, it surprised everyone, but Hotchner face didn't flinch a move.

Well, you know a couple of languages and you still learning in the middle of the night when you're alone while watching a TV show or film by making you company, however since Spencer's visits turned out to be oftentimes, you haven't progressed a lot. The new agent sees smart and hard-working, but as you can notice by her corporal movements, she wants approval.

Hotchner said that you would come with him and Morgan, letting Spencer, Gideon and Prentiss go for Guantanamo Bay. You were not happy, but he's the boss.

–So, see you later?-you say before Spencer left for the Airstrip.

– Yeah, I hope you'll come with us again soon, Gideon seemed not that happy when Hotchner told him that Prentiss would come with us.

– I hope he doesn't scare her.-yo usar playfully, but you're hurt, you weren't made to work in the actual camp, therefore it didn't matter anymore, Hotchner noticed that you could do well in both ways as well as Gideon noticed too, you remained calm and centred, even in the worst possibilities.

But what no one knows is when you come back home, what is inside your mind when you can't show what you want to do right after those awful cases that your team solved? An incoming headache is foreseen, soon or later it will come and you shall crumble.

In a glimpse of time Spencer saw your mien drop off, he stared at your defensive eyes.

– Is something bothering you?-he forgets about his shyness and touches your should, making you look at his face, and your cheeks start burning.

– Ehm... What? NO no no, nothing is bothering me, just I don't think what they're saying is the real issue, there's something more behind it.

– I know, wait.-he still staring at you.– What did you mean by something more? Do you think it's a...

– Spencer, five minutes ended! We're going now.-you give Spencer a weak smile.

– Go and be safe, see you.

– Same thing, be safe OK.

– I'll be, Morgan always says I'm a child so as a parental figure, he says he'll keep out of trouble, I mean, not getting myself harmed.

Spencer wanted to put you in safety, he'd like to come and let you safe, so nothing could harm you even when it wasn't his area.

–Spencer!

–If we don't catch up on time, you know when I'll meet you!-he quickly says before halting away from ye

–Go quickly!

.

–Bonnie Ryan

[...]

– Agent y/l/n.

[...]

– They must have done escape drills.-Hotchner walks away while Derek followed him, you stood still looking around if you could catch any missing points, then you follow their voices to a room where you saw the bio equipment, while Hotchner and Derek are describing the supposed unsub or gangsta and where they might attack.

–Any ideas y/l/n?-Hotchner suggest and you gestured with a more or less.– What do you think it is?

– Don't judge me in a bad way, but what if it is a bioterrorist weapon? I don't know what ingredients are inside but it doesn't seem just what we see on the surface.

The DEA agent is not happy, not with you of course, but with the statement, if it's a bioterrorist weapon, they must solve it quickly. Hotchner and Morgan said nothing until Morgan found a papel, a list filled with chemical components.

You snoop beside his body, not as subtle as he sees yet he let's you check.

Well, you forgot almost all chemistry classes you took while at school, it doesn't make any less dumb, but what you have just seen froze you.

When Morgan gets what Garcia told him, he first turns his head at you with a worried face, you were right, it wasn't a simple thing that you guys were putting your hands on.

– Are you sure? All right.

– What'd she say?

– Garcia says this looks like a list of additives needed to weaponize anthrax.-and you did it again, Hotchner's eyes are filled with panic even if his face stood as a

Inside the car with Hotchner and Morgan, you're paying attention to Hotch's phone call with JJ.

–[...] And notify Gideon and Reid.-you hear a small okay from JJ, Hotch look at Morgan and Morgan turns to you.

– Are you ready, kid?-your mind says no, yet your mouth betrayed you faster than a blink.

– Yeah, are we going now?

– Right now.-finishes Hotch.

When JJ warned the others about you going with 'em to seek this dangerous place, Reid's heart skipped a painful beat.

Inside the van of The Omega cell with all the right devices you searched along with Morgan for anything that could lead you to a clue, you stopped in your track muttering something under your breath, you felt panic through your veins, you touch Morgan's arm.

–What?

– This is a trap.-you alert with a muffled voice, but Morgan didn't hear you.

– What?

–This.is.a.trap.

– How do you...

[Guantanamo bay]

Reid changes glances between the screen and the unsub hands.

-Something's wrong. His hands.-he reports the man's behaviour.

[...]–Is that Hotch?-Gideon asks while hasting.

– What's the problem?

– Get everybody out of there. Now. NOW. Now.-Gideon demands.

–Everybody out! It's a trap. Now!

You glare in fear at Hotch orders, you just feel Morgan grabbing yoyourand as quickly as possible dragging you out with no problems, soon as you all get out of the container you feel your body being pushed away and a man screaming, but your hears are all buzzing here and there, your body felt weak with suddenly explosion and hot air while pieces from the container were all flying around near ye all, lucky you that Morgan was dragging you before any damage could be done.

The three of you were together when agent Ryan begins chatting, she's sad, you've lost a S.W.A.T member, why they couldn't listen to you for a second? If they heard you all of you would be alive. Morgan after Garcia calls off to apologise, you feel your eyes burning with anger and sadness, you could have done more, you should have screamed that it was a trap, but with your fear you just told Morgan, barely audible.

–[...] Not yet.-Hotch finished his talking with the DEA agent.

[...]

When Spencer and Prentiss heard what happened at Guantanamo, Spencer was all worried, his hands holding tightly a paper scrap. If Prentiss noticed? Yeah, but she choose silence, she knew, she can't just ask "Hey, are you okay? The girl what is she for you? You can call her and see if she's okay if you don't mind" out of nowhere since she met them less than a day.

– Are they okay? Is she okay?-Spencer asks Gideon when he turns off the phone, Gideon ignores the second question.

–we were right about the trap. It was rigged to explode. A SWAT agent died.

Spencer could finally breathe, unfortunately, you guys lost a swat agent, there's no word to describe a loss but since he didn't know whose the person was, he couldn't feel much.

[Break time]

You huffed stressed, when you arrived in BAU, and with no time you're dragged again inside the car with Hotch and Morgan, really? On the back/rear seat again?

– Thank you. We just got a lead

–So we did get a name?-you ask with hope.

–And an address.-Morgan complete.

After the FBI agents get out of that house, they explained what they saw, you just could feel your stomach churn in despair, we're too late.

As you thought, you three come back inside the car.

[...]

Shopping scene.

Your heart was racing when you start running heading towards the security room with Hotch.

You saw how stressed Hotchner was when he reported the men's localisation to Morgan, the minute after this you tried to calm down Hotchner which you did a great job, affirming that his wife probably cancelled the photography shoot with his son, because, according to you, she'd like to do it with her family together.

– Thank you kid, it was such a stressful day.

– A stressful case Sir.-you cross your arms breathing.–Gladly our team were able to finish 'em, you can go back home and hug your family.-he returns you with a soft yet weak smile, that man need a good sleep.

– I'll make sure to listen to you more, Morgan told me you, the minutes before the explosion that you have warned him that something was oddly and all the cases before it too.

– Thanks sir, but now, what do we do now?

– We should head home kid.

[...]

I'm an adult, geez, why do they call me kid or child!

–Nala, do you think Am I a kid?-she barked, you felt a pang into your heart.-No no Nala, mommy is an adult woman, right?-the dog hides it's face under its paws, you just stare at her.

You cannot believe, your own dog getting doctrinesed against you.

–What a meanie.

The day was stressful and you needed a good nap after a good warm shower and Spencer couldn't show up, since they arrived late that day, he didn't mean to bother you.

[...]

SEX, BIRTH, DEATH

Spencer is in a hurry while drawing a boy profile on his notebook, he almost bump in JJ, his hands were moving as the flash as it could possibly do, he picked up the phone talking with someone, minutes before it you were talking with Gideon when you saw your friend agitated.

– What's popping?-you cheerfully ask, but when he answers you weren't spectating for it.– Okay I'm out of this case.

– Oh no, you will come.-Spencer says.-Right, Gideon?-the confidence in Spence eyes made Gideon only nod, he never saw it, not even when playing chess.-Told you.

You two hastens away from them, and Gideon gives a forth look at you both and back then at JJ.

– What's happening between these two?

– I don't know Sir, as far as I know, they're friends with odds way in demonstrating it.

– Friends... I see, if you say, I don't mind, is not my business anyway, call Hotch and tell him he should come with us to the dead-house.

[...]

Oh my J. Why are you there staring at a woman dead body? ok, you knew ehy you were here, because a special lad dragged against your will, but why they needed you in this case? Dummy girl, you thought to  yourself, 'because you're part of their team'

Hence, as you can see, complaining wouldn't help much, wake up and start working, you noticed the woman body and if Spencer is 100% right, the boy that had done it is mad mad, could only be a boy in a sophomore year or a first year university student, but your money's is on the first option, yet your guts don't lie, there's something odd.

While you were heading back to BAU, you complained.

– Why you needed me?

– Because yes, and besides this poor affirmation, did you noticed something?

– We will need to see Garcia and check up, but I bet the boy you met is a horny boy with a wretched mind, but my guess is, he's might be a sophomore year student.

– Okay, but why sophomore year?

– Ill give you a simple answer, because its the horny age, Spence.-he gasped.

– Oh okay, but I don't think it affects everybody at this age.-yeah Spencer, I can believe.-I never.

– Neither did I, but as far as I can know my friends had done a lot of stupid things while I were studying.

–O, gotcha, though I never had friends.

– Okay, okay, do I need to repeat it again? I'm  your bestie right now, what is in the past, must stay in the past ok.-you couldn't notice at first(because you were looking at the pavement movement)but what you said made he open a wide smile

– Right, let's see Garcia.

[...]

Time flies by and BAU is getting the unsub out of hands, now after the sixteen years old girl death you've been set to work with Garcia, you both less than 10 minutes found what Spencee wanted, as a reward suddenly out of nowhere, Reid kisses your forehead while he held your cheeks happily as soon he rushes out of the room leaving you with a speechless shocked face and a shocked Garcia growing with slowly a mischievous grin.

–What the heck have I just seen?

–Don't make me questions that I can't answer.

...

You're passing by Reid table, he called you but you were with your purse on hands ready to go home, when Garcia stopped you holding your arm.

–We're hitting town tonight, you two, let's go.

– I don't feel like the a good company tonight, sorry.

– Neither do I, my precious hacker.-you Tey to fawn her, but you won't get out.

–Hm nope, you two, don't make me bring both of you by force, good boy.-she says when Spencer gives up getting up.

–I don't when drink, my dear!

–Then I pay you a soda.-Spencer continues, making Garcia proud.-What!? Why are you looking at me like that?

– Because I'll rip your bashful smile out of your face.

–Don't brag sweetie, we are going now -Garcia dragged you outside.

However when you arrived near the car Spencer got a call and his cheerfully smiled dropped in seconds.

–What happened??-you came closer him, but he opens the back seat door of Penelope's car, he makes you get inside and then rushed to Garcia.

–It's Nathan.

°°°

After what happened with the boy, Spencer left with Gideon while Penelope were being comforted by Morgan, and you, well with the wind, you shake your head getting out of there going to the nearest bus stop, when the bus arrived you heard your name being called but you were already in.

When you arrived in home you put all of your clothes in the washing machine and took a good shower ready to sleep, the panic and blood that you saw this week were enough, but as you're an unfortunate person someone rang your house's bell. Before opening the door you check who's the visitor,  if is an unknown you would call Nala and pick up your gun, but all what you see is a pale Spencer, you mentally shrugs but open your door.

–Hey, you shouldn't be here after what happened, you should've be at..-y/n is interrupted by a tight hug that almost made her fall on the floor, confused you trust in your guts  and just held his hug the warmest way possible.-Shushh, it's okay, it's okay, Spence, what we saw today it's over now, right?-He kept holding you in his arms,  you thought Gideon calmed him over past hour, but as you can see, Spencer is here, his hands trembling as hell.

You had to force him sit down on your sofa and drink a calming tea, not coffee for tonight, Spencer apologised for his abruptly visit but he also remarked that he'd told uou earlier that day he'd come to you house, it's was awkwardly after the hug because you didn't know what to say when you and he shared minutes that seemed hours staring at each other. You moved haste first, holding his hand and making him sit down while you were preparing the tea.

Nala leant her head on his lap, which seems to distract him, that's a good girl.

After the tea, Spencer quickly sleeps on your comfy large sofa, which causes you to cover him up, you mutter lowly to Nala.

–Keep an eye on our boy girl, mom will sleep too.

And after that day, something happened in both heart's,  but no one would do anything, not now.

Spencer had been visiting you lately at night times, you never asked why he's coming when you both finish your cases, because deep down, his company doesn't make you feel lonely, not ignoring Nala's existence, but having another human near, laughing and telling secrets and stories could never be replaced, even if that person its always bringing you scientific facts.

....

Derek Morgan's case close — you were mad at everybody, you were paired to work with Garcia, check as quick as possible to get your friend out of his prison. You couldn't believe either Hotch or Gideon were doing, how could be all of them fools, the moment you realised was the same moment you read the letter that Carl Bufort sent to the judge, your tears were burning your eyes and cheeks, Garcia asked worried why you were crying, she never saw you crying like this, eyes filled with a quiet anger.–"Hon' what happened, why are you crying? This is just a letter".–"Garcia... Haven't you noticed why Derek never told us about his past? Is because he have a scar, a deep scar that is private, why do you think he doesn't wanna us to know, I'd feel the same.Yet your friend couldn't understand.–"Garcia...All the clues have dots and those dots links each other" when she connected then her face fell.

The case went by and you two said anything, you'd didn't wanted to make Morgan sad or get him angry, since the stress of this case, this is a matter that isn't your place to say anything if the person wants to forget about their scars, thing that Gideon and Hotch unfortunately opened again, you know, somehow it was needed yet in a unpleasant way.

...

No way out (part 1 of 2)

Nala is the star of this episode, your brave girl helped a lot, you didn't enter the house, your dong sniffed something as she ran you followed and alerted everybody foretelling that you found the trailer, you dog haven't enter3d but barked, Hotchner came in first, then Spencer, Prentiss and you the last, your eyes googled in dread and further you see more your stomach churn, Spencer approached you pulling you out of the car, he seemed pale as a ghost.

–Are you okay?- you ask him first.

...

After that case, Spencer was once again at your house, eating and watching something you didn't know what it was, you didn't complain, seeing him distracted and calmer is enough, after dealing with that psychopath who still ran away right above your  nose, twas enough.

You sat beside him, giving him a tea cup, while you were sipping your mug with coffee and milk mixed, he stares at the tea cup followed by your coffee mug.

–Why tea?

– You need rest.

– I can sleep by drinking coffee, your coffee is good.

– Caffeine is considered to be a stimulant, which means it increases activity in your brain and nervous system. It also increases the circulation of chemicals such as cortisol and adrenaline in the body. In small doses, caffeine can make you feel refreshed and focused, yet beyond that I surely consider, enough for you today.-he stares at you with those eyes of an abandoned dog that has given up pestering, you were right and he tasted his own poison.

– If this is the reason, you should've a cup of tea then.

– Milk softens the effect of caffeine and despite of it, coffee gives me a reverse effect, I usually get sleepy when my belly is warm.

He roll his eyes with a tiny smile while his head hangs back.

– I can't really believe in what I have heard.

– It's up to you mate, wether you like it or not, this is what happens.

You guys stays in a silent for a couple of minutes when until he question you:

– How you can do that?

– Do what specifically?

– You never flinch when you see mutiled bodies, dead bodies either being of a woman or a child.

With it your body language changed, you tensed reflecting about it, it's true, every case when you're exposed to dreadful backgrounds, your face is neutral, your eyebrows and shoulders just tenses and recoil, you're always with a cheerfully smile, lightning the room even when you stay shut saying nothing only when you have something. Why and how can you just simply act as if nothing happened as each case passes by worsening than the latest case?

Your mind turned numb, your eyes for seconds with no light, Spencer panicked seeing your silence, you usually snaps back.

– Sorry, you don't need to answer if you ...-you tilt your head toward him.

– Honestly or the basic resume?-he hesitated before looking at your eyes.

– The first one.

– Honestly,  I don't know since when I'm like this, I think it's because I don't want to be seem as a weak person, as well I either flinch or cry, I shall not show it, because inside of my head it shows me how weak I am.-Spencer halts his cup of tea on the small table near the sofa, with a quick move he approached his body near your, side by side.

– Why do you say that? Flinching is not a demonstration of weakness nether crying showing them doesn't make you any less brave, in my opinion, it just shows that you're a human and that you care ..

– You didn't get it Spence, before I make it at the BAU, I saw plenty of things that followed my dreams turning them into nightmares, I couldn't even sleep, always crying and in the next morning Id have to put on a makeup so none would noticed that I've been crying the whole night and my mental health wasn't getting any better, but then some episodes later...-his attention is all on you.- Some how I manage to surpress everything that scared me, because I thought to meself, this is the career I've chosen and I shouldn't be scared or surprised anymore, cuz deep down I knew what would happen. I've built a China's wall around my feelings and that why I try my best at not showing you guys any reaction, I longed for become my strongest version of meself.

Spencer took mental notes about what you said and he understood the meaning of all of this, but he also knew you're not all good up here (mind) and that it might be a little fucked up, he gives you a tender smile, his hand struggled but he messed your hair making you frown, what he really wanted to do was stroke your loosen hair, but well, he's such a gentleman.

– What was it?

– Nothing, by the way, I think you should, step by step if you'd like, show more reactions when we see dreadful things, you know, when you don't do it you make all if us look silly.

– Oi! I'm not the only one doing it, Hotchner barely changes his humour and the new agent also never flinch and I mean, mo offending.

– You understood what I meant, don't compare yourself with the others, there's only a Morgan as so  I have only one y/n.-you bubbly laugh.

– After my dim statement you managed to make me laugh, you have an odd way to flatter me Spence.

– Just because your mind is different from others.-you lean in, catching by surprise with such closeness.

– Why? You're saying Am I weird?

– No! Well, I mean, only if you consider me weird as well, because the way your mind works is same as mine, different, oddly.-you back off still staring him with a sassy smile, around him you naturally have a side smile spread.

– Two weirdos then, cheers.-Nala is sleeping when you get up.– If you still coming at my door at night I think I should buy a new bed and put in my office so you could sleep properly while you're resting here.-he urgently denies.

– There's no need for it, if you want me to leave, I'll leave rig..-he stands up faster than you thought.

– Heck no! Back off genius, you're staying with me tonight and in any night time you'd want, you're always welcome Spence, I was just joking silly boy.

– Ah... So I'm nor leaving?

– If you dare to put a toe out my doorstep, I'll drag you inside by your hair.–Spencer begins to laugh sitting again on the couch, inside you something stirred, you'd like to ask him, why is he always coming at your door, doesn't he thinks that you're boring?

Spencer noticed you dull expression, you're thinking in something, because when you're doing it, he knows you lost yourself in your thoughts being em not very pleasant.

– I'd pay billions of dollar's to know what's inside your mind right now.-he snaps you out of your reality.

–What? Were you profiling me right now?-you scoffed a laugh arms crossed.

– Kind of, what you were thinking?

Nothing important you'd say, but you rather started an another subject.

– Do you wanna visit my little piece of heaven? I think I haven't shown you where I work when I ain't at the BAU.-Spencer again quickly haste from the sofa, making you giggled, you show him the way past the hall going up the brief staircase to a singular door made of polished wooden. – When I was a child I've always dreamed of having my little special place so I could run in and stay safe.

– Are you sure you want to share it with me then?-you violently nod with a pout.

– You're my very being person, Spence, you're my best friend.-his heart doesn't want only it.– And I haven't been a good hostess, I just showed you the loo, kitchen and living room, except the most exciting part of my residence.

– Go on.-he anxious yearns, what's behind the door? So this is the space you do your things? It's the place you are comfortable in, it's your special place, it means a lot for you.– You're making me interested and curious.

Saying nothing more you open the door revealing what behind the door, his face just enlighten with the view, getting in before you in excitement, Reid its definitely on cloud nine, his fingers began to do theirs strange movements when he's thinking as well his tongue.

Behind the door you have hidden a mix between where you'd called it a mix between an office and a library, high bookshelves with loads of book yet there's still space to fit more of em and in the center there's an office table with your PC sided by a laptop aside by a lampshade, your office chair in position, near one of the bookshelves there's there's a comfy armchair beside it a couch-rest bed, where your body fits perfectly but not Spencer, if he'd want to use he'd have to shrink a wee.

– Book!-he's already checking on them like of he was a little boy fan of dinosaurs visiting a paleontology museum for the first time seeing his favourites stuffs.-You have never interested me more.– and his heart and brain comes to terms, he wanna marry you, when? He doesn't knows, but he'll even not knowing what to do with it.– And you hide it from me, how dare you.-you look astonished coming closer his side.

– You know, I thought you'd find me weird

– More than people think about meself? Not in a hundred times, that's the place you find come to work, study and also relax?-you positively nod making his heart beat faster.

– Here's where I can find an escape, mainly when I'm alone after arriving home due to a stressful work day also when you don't come, I stay here until I fall asleep, I think the day I marry, if I marry and don't get killed, I'd like to buy a bigger house just to have a library inside home and don't mix with office business.

Reid is holding a handcover book, turning his entire body in front of you. The moment you mentioned marriage, buying a bigger house and make a library stirred his being.

– Do you wanna marry some day?

– Pretty boy, who doesn't? But if I don't find anyone worth of my love in the future, my prince and his dark horse, Imma just marry myself.-he falls into a laugh, you're unbelievable.- What? Why are you laughing at me?

– The mind of yours have an enchanting way to catch me off guard.-you gasp, he isn't cooperating with you when he's just simply and bluntly tells you what he thinks, making your heart skip a beat, it's unfair.

The more you make him laugh, open a wide smile, listen to him when he's telling unfortunate facts or fun facts, make him feels out of breathe when you walk in saying good morning or good night, the more you make him skip a heart beat, the more your intimacy growths.

It should be illegal, your mere existence should be illegal, he's not safe around you.

[Revelations]

In this case you stayed with Gideon and Spencer, but along the way everything started to crumble.

Garcia couldn't access the serial killer's IP, this issue were giving to everyone a headache the killer was a psychotic, a sick person who was commenting crimes desecrating sacred verses from the Bible for Christians in his every murder case.

Albeit everything begins downhill when Spencer and JJ were sent to go to Hankel's house

When they found JJ, only her returning from the mission, you for the first time in one of the cases with the BAU, you stepped back, your heart races as Sonic were in a desperate  hurry, yet it did not allow you to cry, you could only tremble when everyone went searching for clues to find Reid.

However nothing was working, why!?  Why!?

Until the video reaches you and Penelope also joins in person with everyone at Hankel's house, seeing him in that chair made your body tense, an anger you hid for so long, one of the feelings you deprived for long years for her to be sane as well as the sadness that filled her heart at seeing Reid so vulnerable.

You couldn't take it and left the room, Prentiss after the video was over went to comfort you and you, the person who seems a little difficult to hug, hugs her, that showed how fragile you were.

Prentiss wasn't the only one, JJ too, but you didn't want to forgive her, she should have stayed together with him, they both should have stayed together, she could have taken care of him, but here she was.

Of course!  You don't really blame her, I was just as in shock as you are and if I were you in her shoes I'd understand, her empathy was sometimes a pain in the ass and sometimes a blessing.

Morgan and Penelope went to talk to you shortly thereafter, both to reassure and to see if you were still in a position to stay on the case and you said that you wouldn't go anywhere without seeing until Reid is safe and sound.

Every minute when you were with them and alone, you try to stay positive, attracting only good things like "Spencer will be saved, he'll be in safety soon, we will find him, you'll find him"

You could barely sleep, even when you closed your eyes to sleep, your anxieties were still awake

And it was then that after the dead couple you gave up, you decided to help Penelope, not knowing that it could work, you took a local map and tried to memorize a bit of what you saw of the video, the place behind what it was

The time now was your worst enemy, the sand in the hourglass reaching to its limits, a valued time that you didn't have, that Spencer didn't have

You didn't know how long he could stand being in the hands of that crazy Raphael, you just wanted to cry, but the tears didn't fall, not while everyone could hear, leave them for later

Garcia told you to rest and you agreed, but when everyone went to sleep, you returned, sleep could not take effect as your mind was dominated by adrenaline

You stayed up all night again until everyone was surprised to see you with the exhausted look and a bad mood, but you got something in the middle of the night, yet it barely escaped your hands and you told Garcia, she asked how it is you only managed to say "I don't know how I let it slip, but I was so close to find"

Before the nightfall you captured the signal and IP address of that video, you managed to decode whatever your input was, as if it were a plague of locusts that wiped out the entire corn crop, quickly and decisively.

You trembled and stuttered with words while the map was in your held,  the map that you manually drew on the computer screen and handed to your team.

— "I found it, I I I saw the details behind the doorstep, there's trees and a graveyard nearest, please, just believe me without making question when we don't I have time, is a damnit gun shoot deep in the dark, but I'm sure we will find our boy"

And then you fainted, Morgan's arm quickly held you when your body and consciousness betrayed you, Morgan had to carry you to a bed and lay you on it, right after all of they left to find Spencer while a cop were looking after you.

You couldn't sleep well, you didn't even were able to sleep, then your body claimed for its well deserved rest when your work is done.

Reid is rescued, all of em were relieved when they saw him alive, in a bad and desperate state but alive, godforsaken, all seemed so relived when your guidance leaded them at the right place

Hankel got shot, anyway

Spencer was so weak, he was a definition of a mess, a mix of feelings  that he couldn't even describe, seeing the whole team coming for his rescued. All the tight hugs he received, except one, yours.

– Where's y/n? Why she's not with you?- he asks Gideon who huffs in worry.

– Agent y/l/n fainted before she could make it.-he became paler than he was, he babbled.

– W What!? What happened with her, is she okay? Is she safe?

– Safer than she could possibly be, kid, she found your localisation, Garcia told us she barely could rest, she stayed up all night, she haven't grip a nap then her body claimed for its own rest when it recognised that her work was done. -Gideon pat his shoulder, let's go home boy.

So it means, because of you, he is safe now, not in a condition indeed yet alive he remains.

– Can I have... Can I have a second alone?-Gideon didn't wanted, but his lips shrink agreeing.

And then, Reid comes back and took the drugs.

Then the weekend came, at 06 a.m you left your house in which you dedicate this time to walk your dog. Your mind filled with the scenes of Reid being captive,  you haven't seen he since then.

You returned home an hour and thirty minutes later, took a good shower and then left again, but Nala stayed at home this time.

You went to a shooting club, you have calmly put on the headphone protectors while you loaded your gun looking at the target(using eyes protectos too), the first shoot in the left side of the chest straightforwardly in the lungs was enough to make your mind weak against the demons that you once make a oath that you would never let em win you mind over.

A flashback knocked down your mind guard.

Unknown years ago

Before working for the BAU at Quantico you used to work in London before your transference and recommendation letter, you used to be just like Garcia, without the twisted nicknames, an assistant rookie with your work friend, they used to be your best friend, until the day they had been take as hostage, you truly tried, yes you did, every effort to make em get out that situation, racing against a time you barely had.

She got shot, the right in the middle of its head, you saw the photos and you blamed yourself for that day, you should've be at they side, you'd do anything to be in their place, yet they wouldn't return, but what freaked you out was knowing that your another colleague were a traitor that also made the trap which get your friend killed, how could you let it happen?

That was the very case that you got yourself into depression, no one could be trusted enough, they'll bite you back. After their death, you couldn't stop sobbing nor crying when you're left alone in your flat, but you had to fake it, because if people from  work felt that something is up with you, they would make you resign and go to therapy or a psychiatric, well, you should've go but you didn't, so you faked every single day the most brightest smile, covering the wounds that the past left in your life.

And seeing that same scene after those years happening with Spencer, your mind entered in a frenzy, too much for your poor heart.

"- not again please."

You felt a gentle hand touching your forearm snaped you out of your mind.

–Are you all right kid?-it was Morgan voice, what is he doing here? You thought.

–W...What? Wait, what are you doing here?- you put down the gun.

– Sometimes I come here to de-stress, I think you're doing the same, but you look awful.

– Thank you for the compliment.-you replied grumpy.

– Easy girl, but since you're here, wanna bet just to see who shoots better?

– You're making my hour worth now.-you take a deep breath.-And don't tell the others that you saw me here, none need to know my whereabouts when I'm enjoying my weekend.

– Not even Garcia and Reid?

– If they ask, you can, but they won't, I'm boring and let me be boring in the weekends.-Morgan denies with a smiling face nod.

– Whatever the little princess wants.-you shyly smile.-But I think you should visit Spencer after getting out of here.-your eyes googled at him, Reid isn't okay? Of course he isn't but you don't want to bother him.

–Why should I? Have something happened?

– You're his friend, I dear to say the closest and that would understand his geeky speeches, besides it I think something is popping inside his mind.-your eyes softens, your heart just listening about his name and what might be happening give you such a pang in the heart.

– I don't want to bother him.

– Bother him?-Morgan loads his gun.-I think, besides me of course, you're like the one that make that boy smile in a way that I, as a common person with a common sense could sense that he loves you when you're around.-your cheeks starts to warm-up, you load you gun once again.

– Don't say things that you might be wrong.

– I used to say the same about your guesses and in the end, you 95% was right.

– Where is 5%?

– I am a proud man kid, I have to maintain my esteem.-you laughed.

– Okay, I'd visit him anyway, but thanks for explaining your thoughts, you might be 100% right.

– Then let's see who's better with a gun.-he declared.-Beware girl, I'll win.

–What a cocky conclusion and, please, tell me where Spencer lives, I forgot his address.

– It's a matter of fact that I'll win and ok, after our deal, I'll give his address, ready or not, there I go.

Well, Morgan won and as a prize, he asked you to bring your special brownies.

You just lose for a slightly difference, Ouch, with a pout on your face you left heading towards home, but in the middle of your track you remembered and as you were not far away from his home, you changed your route.

You toc-toc his door, arm's crossed anxiously waiting, what would you say? You have no subject to talk about, and you're also afraid what are you supposed to do with your visit.

You knocked again and no response again, you inhale and toc one more time.

–Reid, please, open the door..-you're giving up.- Reid I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you when they rescued you, I am really but you know, I really wanted to make it, so please open the door and then shuts it again, I know that friends are supposed to support each other in their darkest times, Reid if you don't want to see me because of this, I'll leave, but you won't get rid of me that easi..-And then the angels answer came, the door is wide open as your eyes due to the suddenly action.– What th...

You're caught off guard, because the moment Reid opened his door, pushed you in closing the door behind him,he quickly pulled you into his embrace, holding you in as if you were a precious dragon's gold, and he'd be the dragon in his most desperate way to protect what belongs to it. Although this isn't the real meaning of all of his action.

Reid tightly hugs you, notnwant to letting you go and in a moment of shock you did nothing, but then your gentle hands fondle his back soon turning in a reciprocal hug, if he takes off your lung ait, you'd let.

– Thank you , thank you and thank you again.-he whispers under his breath, fraught in his voice. You had to shut down your eyes.-You saved me, I know the others did the same, but you found me, you found me y/n, and I'll be always grateful for it, I owe you and I'm so sorry...What I did when I chos..

– Shhh... It's okay, It's okay, I'm here and you didn't do anything wrong. There's nothing to apologise for.-you slowly untangled of his hug, just to hold his hand gently stating into his eyes, you hardly do this, you can't keep it for a long period.

His deep red eyes with the bags under his eyes, steaming glowing eyes, he sniffing his nose to not cry, his vulnerable state, his soft hair all in disorder.

Your face trembled, seeing he in this way, how to control your own breathing? You should be strong, you're always have been the strongest, even when you crumbled.

But you couldn't say much, your lips shavers when you tried to say something or smile, your bidy shifted the weight side to side, as you opened your arms, inviting to another hug, as if this action speak for itself: "Hush now, it's alright, you're no longer alone." And Reid hugged you again, a mix of gentle, starved touch of a hug.

Morgan was right, he needed you.

Hence the moment Reid saw you in his doorstep, and heard everything that you were saying (he was in the bathroom until he recognised your voice) he knew that his heart was no longer his to keep.

Tag list:

@amateur-author597

@corpsebridenightamare

[maryrouille]

It's Amy Winehouse, but with female rage. About Back to Black (dir. Sam Taylor-Johnson) 2024

Recently, a film telling the life story of the British singer Amy Winehouse was released. I came here to talk a little about the aesthetics of this film, which, by the way, cannot be accused of poor music (Marisa Abela sings Amy's songs in her own voice and she does it brilliantly!) or ugly shots.

In the film we see the transformation from a rebellious teenager with a guitar into an emotionally and behaviorally unstable woman (without a guitar). Of course, this turn of events could have been reflected in Amy's real life, but one gets the impression that the film is set in a different time. It feels like the 2000s have been filtered, sugar-coated, and embedded somewhere in the 2024 aesthetic of angry girlbloggers on Tumblr.

Romanticizing drinking alcohol and mental instability

You probably know the tendencies related to #just girly things and the explanation of all depressive states and tantrums by just being a girl. It is a kind of expression of the life and consciousness of today's young girls living in the rather unoptimistic times of social media and consumerism. But is this aesthetic good for Amy's story? It seems to me that romanticizing alcohol, drugs and blind love leading to complete self-loss and ultimately death is a poor approach.

And while watching the film you definitely feel that something is wrong, but at the same time you fall into this beautified world. Amy's life was darker and more brutal, and her problems were not only limited to matters of the heart, glass and flashbulbs of cameras. Unfortunately, living with addictions is dirty and disgusting. And you can't put a bow on it. But it seems to be a sign of our times.

You Know I'm No Good (song)

Adding the ending to this song title: but I'm not going to rehab. And here we should ask the question about the level of public awareness in 2008 (the year when Amy received five Grammy Awards) and today. In 2024, acceptance and knowledge about all behavioral therapies, addiction treatment and toxic relationships is much greater. And Back to Black, under the guise of nice outfits, make-up and a few minor falls, gives the impression of being up-to-date.

Will someone watch this movie and say they want to live like Amy (just like it was with Coppola's Priscilla)? This is quite possible, because in the end we get the image of a slightly rebellious femme fatale and a slightly weak girl who is harmed by others. And many of us would fit this description.

Live fast, die young, be wild and have fun (song)

Finally, I have to quote Lana del Rey, because today's girl blogging draws from her in handfuls. Is joining the 27 Club really that romantic? The departure of such young people from the world is primarily a tragedy, which later becomes a beautiful myth. That's why it's worth mentioning Lana's example here. She uses aesthetics very well and, above all, separates moving around motifs and drawing visual inspiration from them from real life.

To sum up, movie Back to Black is really worth seeing. However, it is also worth being aware that this is a colorful fiction for 2024 built around the true story of Amy Winehouse.

[zilabee]

The top 80 best things about Paul McCartney:

the pure joy of him

that he smells like home

everything his lyrics don't mean

his voice obviously

linda

his refusal to modestly pretend the beatles weren't that good

how often he slept with John

how much he wants to tell you how often he slept with John

how much space he holds for him

being self-aware that he likes a bit of adulation sometimes

being self-aware about NOTHING ELSE

his eyebrows let's be serious

sitting on his hands

his love of buses

how he is palpably at least twenty different people

none of them boring

his oral fixation

his terrible beautiful relationship with george

how turned on he is by all the world

his very happy childhood

every iteration of his facial hair

when he's not in a laughing mood even

she can be a diplomat but I don't need a girl like that

his entire wardrobe in 1967

"i'm a golden garter"

the exclamation mark in oh! darling

the factory sounds on silly love songs

when he looked after someone's dog for a few weeks and changed its name

luigi and mr blendini

the soft perfection of mullet

"that's why I'm talking to John and not you"

owing it to his mum to still be himself

chopping the onions because he doesn't like to see linda cry

wearing his children inside his jacket

touching pianos

being vaguely bothered when people know more than him

"What's it like to be father to an 8yo girl?" "It's a terrible burden."

all of mmt but especially the magicians

how stupidly much he loves John

how little limit he places on that love

covering his nipples

the orange jumper

hiding away in cupboards

his adoring love of little richard

eating at home

his commitment to doing things he wants to do

refusing to feel tortured

liking to be liked

playing with children

random noises and funny voices

his little dances

banana milkshakes

climbing things

shipping people in his audiences

drawing music out of the air

"a formidable enthusiasm"

his show pony glossy hair

the way ringo touches him

the shape of him on stage

how much happiness his music holds

how easily it tears your heart out

doodling beatle logos in his little notebook

having a flat out breakdown in front of an entire film crew because to go and have his breakdown in private would be to admit he was having a breakdown

making guitar picks from pennies on the railway tracks

"we were all in love with John"

needing permission to be tired

casually not getting addicted to hard drugs

"prick him, and a song wells up"

his connection to the universe

his utter trust in it

heaven being a trip to spain via paris

making trails in the woods

the way musicians look at him

how thoroughly strange he is

the exact size of the hole in his mind

the utter bitch inside him

his very deep sluttiness

his imaginary emotions

his ridiculous face

just every fucking note of him

[bupphaofficial]

My soundtrack is now live on Spotify! Check it out :) 

[devourerofcheesecake]

Every time I look at Jack Staubers Opal I’m blown away by the symbolism. For context; Jack Stauber made a short film in connection to Adult Swim. The story itself follows Claire navigating her household, where we are introduced to her neglectful family. It’s a really good short!! I recommend you watch it before reading this.

Tw: Child neglect, drug abuse, Nicotine abuse, lots of fantastical elements in connection with coping

I’m not gonna beat around the bush, this short is disturbing. Amazing, but disturbing.

Claire does not lead a comfortable life. When I’m comparison to everyone else, Claire is very obviously malnourished. In the Opal house, she has a burger in front of her. You expect her to eat the burger… but she dances with it. She has no idea what you even DO with a burger, she’s never eaten one. On top of this, when Claire comes back from looking at the sign, the grandpa say she SMELLS different, implying that she stinks. The house is littered with trash and papers. Grandpa and Moms living habits exasperate the situation, we see bloodied tissues and pill bottles everywhere

On top of this, we notice Claire isn’t even a person to her family, more of a tool. During the sequence where we see Claire’s face being molded, we see how she relates to the family. She’s the Grandpas eyes. She’s the fathers face. The moms pill.

The grandpa is blind and addicted to nicotine. He often wonders why it sounds so easy to breathe??? Much like Opal, he’s trying to cope through living in a fantasy. He imagines the people on the tv love him. The tv after all, is the only thing that stays with him. It gladly enables his behavior. Claire tries not to enable him, but unltimately she is the only one taking care of him. She hands him his cigarettes, even though she tries to hide them. She’s terrified of him, but she’s the only responsible one taking care of him

The father is coping through his narcissism. He has mirrors around him constantly because he needs to be SEEN. There are a couple lines hinting that his relationship with his wife is not great. He is just a small adult that’s trying to grow. He NEEDS to be perfect. He copes by looking at his mirrors and constantly grooming himself. Whenever we think he’s reaching out for Claire, he’s actually reaching for a mirror. Claire puts up with his behavior in the hope that one day he might reach for her instead. He is the safest adult in her life, and she isn’t even truly acknowledged by him unless it’s to boost himself

The mother is an addict and drug abuser. She is extremely aware of their living situation, and she thinks of herself as a martyr. Instead of trying to fix their situation, she has succumbed to her vices. She needs Claire to be her daughter, so she can feel some control in her life. Claire is the only innocent one out of all of them, and she NEEDS Claire to be her savior. She grasps at Claire because that’s the only reason for existing. Because after all, they don’t live. They survive.

In her real house, they only see Claire for what they need. They only use Opal as a way to boost themselves up. In the other family, Opal is SEEN by the other family. They love her. Her troubles are miles away.

The family that doesn’t exist loves and sees her more then her real one.

[bluekat12345]

A Thought on "The Mask"

Is anyone familar with The Mask? The green-faced character Jim Carrey played in a film? (It was a comic series first and there was a cartoon show after the film)

It was one of my favorite films as a kid and I just revisted it and the show. Even checked out the comics, (Which is very different from the film/show) and I came to a conclusion:

The Mask is a lot like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Think about it, while the mask gives a person chaotic cartoonish abilities and makes a person act different, even darker and more violent, it doesn't completely change them, it brings out their repressed parts and darker desires. And the more a person uses the mask, the more they want to, like a drug. Basically, it sort of turns them into addicts with the mask as their drug, since it doesn't force them to wear it, just gets them hooked.

Its the same as the original Jekyll & Hyde story. As the potion didn't make Hyde as Jekyll's evil alter ego, it was still Jekyll, fully aware of what he's doing, he just drops his inhibitions and acts out his darker desires. And the more he uses it, the more he wants, at least until Hyde kills someone.

And whenever someone tries to fight both these influences, it's a take easier side then done.

So based on these similarities, this is way I say The Mask could be another version of Jekyll & Hyde.

[withlovewriting]

Mixed Drinks and Smoke Rings 17: The Second Coming

Chapter Seventeen: The Second Coming

Xanny, packed in my Off-White fanny, I been going off, I’m manic, Shit wearing off, I’m landing, More on the way, don’t panic, Drank too much, God damn it, Shut that door, don’t slam it, Shit too loud, can’t stand it, I can’t stand it

Summary: New to town, you didn’t need a friend, you needed a dealer. Thankfully, a girl from your Narcotics Anonymous meetings knew just the guy.

Characters: Fezco (euphoria) x Non-descriptive Reader

Words: 4,405

Chapter Warnings: Drug use, abusive relationships, i already wrote out this damn thing once and then pressed the back button on my mouse by accident so if there are any mistakes its because im dumb and didnt save it as a draft as per 

Series Warnings: Addiction, sexual themes, cursing, abuse (various), smut, drug use, teenagers being fucking idiots. 18+ only, minors DNI

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taglist: @iamasimpingh0e​ @chelseagirl77​ @zeida​ @thepawn1999​ @alanis-altair​ @purplebtsmagic​ @fuckrigthoff​

'A complete stranger has the capacity to alter the life of another irrevocably. This domino effect has the capacity to change the course of an entire world. That is what life is; a chain reaction of individuals colliding with others and influencing their lives without realizing it. A decision that seems minuscule to you, may be monumental to the fate of the world.'

At least, that's what J.D Stroube once wrote.

Your life so far felt like one big game of dominoes, but you'd be stupid to blame all of your bad situations and decisions on other people. After all, even if you had to pick between the lesser of two evils, it was still you who had made the decision.

You might've been led to the water, but you're the horse who chose to drink.

As you walked through the school corridor you're friend, Chloe was going on and on about something -- you'd lost interest around 30 seconds into the one-sided conversation -- when your eyes wandered to the large mahogany stairs, where only the most elite of students hung out.

The popular kids -- like a million different teenage films -- seemed untouchable. Whilst loitering on the stairwells was forbidden, even the strictest of teachers would often walk right past them, and no punishments were ever given when they'd boldly stroll into class after the bell.

Everyone wanted an in with them, regardless of how, or why. And you most definitely were not immune to the charm.

As you passed the group, your eyes met those of Liam Ryder, easily the most popular boy in school, and a whole grade above you.

Not only completely ignoring Chloe, but you were also totally oblivious to Keon Jackson, only aware of him when he accidentally shoulder clipped you -- his own nose deep in a book -- sending you both flying.

Your face felt hot when you heard laughter, the high-pitched cackles from Jen Atkins seemingly much louder than anyone else's as she peered down at you from where she was sat, like some kind of puffed-up pigeon.

God, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

Brushing off Keon's bumbled apology, you pushed yourself to your knees, quickly grabbing your dropped belongings. As you moved to grab your textbook, a hand shot out, grazing yours as you both reached for the book.

Taking a deep breath, you finally looked up, eyes connecting with the same brown eyes that had distracted you in the first place.

He gripped your textbook as he quickly stood, offering a hand out to help you up.

"Really, I'm so sorry, I-" Keon began once more, cutting himself off when Liam sent him a sharp look.

"Scram."

And just like that, he did.

Turning his attention back toward you, his eyes softened as he visibly checked you over, "Are you alright? You went down pretty hard."

Trying your best to swallow down your embarrassment, you sent him a tight-lipped smile, followed by a curt nod. The problem with the elites, was that they were nice to look at, but terrifying to actually speak to.

Raising a quizzical brow at you, he smirked, "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

Your eyes widened as you realized how rude you'd appeared, stuttering out a reply, "Shit. I mean... Uh sorry."

Shaking your head, you felt like an absolute idiot, "Thank you. I meant to say thank you."

His smirk only deepened as he watched you squirm, "I've seen you around. You're in my AP class, right?"

Unsure of why he was talking to you at all, you forced the lump in your throat down as you nodded, "Yeah. I uh... I sit near the front..."

If there was a God, you could only hope he'd strike you down where you stood for being such a damn loser. Instead, the bastard let you stand there, wringing your hands and babbling. Clearly, you didn't attend church nearly enough for the big man upstairs to help out.

"That test last week man... I barely scraped by. You did well though, right?"

You did more than do well, you wanted to say. But it didn't seem the appropriate time to brag, "Yeah, I did OK."

His dark eyes bore into yours for a moment, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck, "So, uh... Do you by any chance tutor people? I would totally pay, I just-"

Your eyebrows shot toward your hairline as you barely registered him now fumbling around his words. The elites of the school were smart enough, sure. But they usually relied on the brains of the less socially inept to do their school work.

"I don't usually tutor anyone," you watched as his face fell, shoulders deflating a little, "but I'm happy to go over my notes with you for next week's test."

His smile stretched across his face, meeting his eyes, "Yeah, that would be great, actually. Thank you."

You both stood in silence for a moment, his smile almost forcing a small grin onto yours. Feeling as though you'd only half-embarrassed yourself during this tete-a-tete, you finally spoke again, "Uh, I need to get to class..."

"Oh sure, yeah. Me too."

When neither of you moved, you let out a quiet chortle, "You uh... You still have my book."

It was Liam's turn to look mortified as his hand that had kept a firm grip on your book shot out toward you, only to tighten once you had grabbed the other end,

"Tomorrow, after school? I can drive you home after."

Waiting for your confirmation, he finally sent you a charming smile before releasing the book and making his way down the hallway, his head turning around only once, catching you still standing motionless, watching him leave.

Quickly spinning around on the spot, you couldn't help the large, beaming smile that tugged at your lips as you marched toward class.

What you didn't see, however, was Liam handing over a crisp bill to Keon as he passed.

Sitting on Liam's desk chair, you felt much more at ease than you probably should've, being alone in a boy's room.

He sat a respectable distance from you, choosing instead to perch on his king-sized bed.

He was tapping his pen along to whatever song was playing through his phone, silently mouthing along to the lyrics as he read and re-read over his notes.

Watching him for a moment, he seemed so relaxed in the comfort of his own home, even when in the presence of an almost total stranger.

Maybe, Liam was a lot more normal than you had originally been led to believe. Maybe the bravado and monkeying around in school was simply a front, a mask he was only content to take off in the safety of his own four walls.

Maybe, he was just as normal as the rest of you.

"Have you finished already?" He questioned, eyes never moving from his book.

Feeling your face warm-up, you quickly diverted your eyes back to your own work, "I finished like, ten minutes ago."

His brows pulled together as he looked toward you, the side of his mouth pulling up into a sideways grin, "So you've just been sat there twiddling your thumbs when you could've been helping me?"

You don't know whether it was his question or the look he was sending you, that made you nervous. Your leg bounced as you shrugged.

"Do you ever relax?" His tone was light, but his eyes were far too curious to mean it in jest.

"Of course I do... I'm just, I dunno..."

Thankfully, he only let you suffer for a moment or two as he silently watched you struggle for any word that wasn't 'nervous'. His eyes darted toward your still-moving leg before returning to you with a lifted brow. 

"High strung? Anxious? Scared? All of the above..."

"I'm not scared of you..."

Standing from his bed, he made his way over to you, his palm flattening against your thigh in order to stop its bouncing, "I'm not making fun of you, I swear. Just... You shouldn't be so worried all of the time. It's not good for your health."

A small chuckle escaped you, lessening the frown that creased your forehead. You watched as he leaned over you -- his body so close you could smell the faded scent of whatever soap he'd used this morning -- rifling through one of his desk drawers, 

"I have just the thing," he smiled, straightening up as he held the joint between his fingers.

Placing the unlit joint onto your rolling tray, you released a long sigh.

It had started innocently enough. A couple of puffs on a joint every now and then, hiding out in his room under the guise of studying. If his parents cared that he had a girl over, or that he was smoking pot, they never spoke up.

You'd never speak much in school, instead, your days were filled with gentle grazes as you passed in the hallways, and longing looks across the lunchroom.

His attention seemed solely focused on you whenever you were in his vicinity, and you'd even heard his friends mock him on occasion for being so distracted, even if they didn't know why. Yet, he continued to drown them out whenever his dark eyes met yours across a room.

Maybe that was what initially drew you to him. The way that, even in a room full of students, he could make you feel like the only person there with him, without saying a single word to you.

The stolen glances felt like a romantic secret, something only the two of you shared because nobody else --his friends, or yours -- mattered enough to know.

In hindsight -- which they say is 20/20 -- you knew this was because you were a secret. At least in the beginning. And maybe that was the first red flag you'd ignored.

"Please explain why you invited some girl that you've barely spoken five words to."

Tucker wasn't wrong. Liam technically hadn't spoken to you in school much since that fated day in the hallway. 

"She's cool, man. Trust me."

Your nerves were at an all-time high as you sat in the passenger seat of Chloe's car, tugging at your skirt. It had taken some convincing, but she'd finally agreed to check out what was being dubbed the biggest party of the year.

Tucker was rich, rich. His parents worked in real estate and -- thankfully for him -- seemed to spend most of their free time out on their yacht. 

You assumed that was why Tucker acted the way he did; he craved attention. Good or bad, it didn't matter. You didn't want to admit it, but you both had more in common than you'd assumed. Hell, most of the kids here did.

Your mother had flown out to DC before you'd even woken up that morning and wouldn't be back until late Sunday evening, and your father had gone to a sports bar with some work colleagues.

Although you'd had to practically drag Chloe there, a few other people in your group had willingly come along, excited to attend their first real high school party.

Sure, you all claimed that you didn't care about popularity, but you were human. All you really wanted was to be accepted, to be liked. Isn't that how every teenager felt?

"Look what the cat dragged in," a supercilious voice caught your attention as soon as you walked through the door as if she was awaiting your arrival.

"Oh, hey Jen." 

No matter how tempted you were to divert your eyes and look around the room for the familiar brown ones, you kept your eyes on the girl in front of you, her own piercing glare refusing to back down. You weren't sure where her sudden animosity had come from, but you knew she was playing some kind of game. You only wished you knew the rules.

"Are you two going to stare at each other all night or what?" Chloe grumbled, catching Jen's attention. Seemingly bored of playing with her food, Jen merely rolled her eyes before strutting off into the sea of people.

"What the hell was that about?"

Shrugging, you weren't entirely sure yourself, "C'mon, let's go see how big the pool is." 

Looking back, you couldn't feel anger toward your younger self. You just felt... sad.

You'd remember that party for the rest of your life, a bittersweet memory that you didn't know how or even if you wanted to rid yourself of.

That night was the first time you'd tried anything harder than pot. Liam had produced a line of Xanax, joking that if weed wouldn't help you relax, then this definitely would.

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

Chloe's question caused your eyes to roll, annoyance radiating off you as you took a bigger gulp from your cup, trying to prove a point. Wiping your chin, your eyes met Liam's across the room, watching as he obliviously nodded along to whatever his friend was saying, his burning stare not deviating from you since you'd first spotted each other.

"I'm just trying to enjoy myself. Maybe you should have a couple, might make you a bit more fun."

You knew your words were harsh, but you were 4 cups of jungle juice deep and fed up with her party-pooper attitude. She'd been counting down the minutes since your arrival, mumbling under her breath about how she'd have more fun watching paint dry, and being a little too loud with her deprecating comments. Chloe could be brusque at the best of times, downright rude at the worst.

You just wanted to have a little fun at the first party you'd actually been invited to. And here she was, acting like a total bitch.

"Well, I'm sorry that I don't think getting wasted on over-priced alcohol with a bunch of people who won't remember me in 5 years is 'fun'. I just didn't think you'd entertain them either,"

Pushing herself from the wall, she eyed the crowd dubiously for a moment before turning back to you, eyebrows pulled together, "Don't think it's odd that they even invited us? I mean, I'm not even sure they know our names. If they pull a 'Carrie' and pour pig blood on us, I wouldn't even be surprised."

Squeezing your eyes shut, you could feel your last nerve fray, "Fucking hell, Chloe. Get a grip, OK? First of all, I was invited, not you. Maybe, they'd know our names if you weren't being a colossal bitch all night. The fact that you think nobody here would bother with me unless they had an ulterior motive is fucked up."

Downing more of your drink -- ignoring the glances from classmates that had overheard your argument -- your chest heaved as guilt settled over you, weighing you down heavily. Sure, Chloe could be a little too much sometimes, but she was your friend.

Before you could open your mouth to apologize, Chloe shook her head, a  tremulous laugh falling from her tight-lipped, mournful smile, "Fuck you. Find your own way home."

You heard the hushed chatter and laughs as she pushed through the crowd, making her exit.

Releasing a sigh, you gently knocked your head against the wall behind you as you felt tears fill your closed eyes. Trying to garner the strength to follow her out and apologize profusely, your eyes fluttered open when you heard a familiar voice,

"Well, that was... dramatic.”

Your brow creased as you bit your bottom lip. Your face felt hot and you knew as soon as you opened your eyes, you'd start crying. Maybe you were a little too drunk.

"I'm uh... I'm sorry," You sniffed, feeling a tear roll down your cheek as you opened your eyes, "I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm gonna... I'm gonna head out-"

Leaning forward, Liam brushed his thumb against your cheek, wiping away the stray tear, "No, I... shit. I didn't mean you, I meant her. You're just having a good time and she's clearly got a problem with that."

Sending him a meek smile, you found yourself feeling a little more relaxed as his warm brown eyes watched you, "You heard that, then..."

"I think everyone heard that..." he shoved his hands into his jean pockets, "but she's jealous, you know? I would never invite you here under false pretenses... I just, you know... Enjoy spending time with you."

You forced down a deep breath, feeling like the exploding butterflies in your stomach would escape if given the chance. 

He could tell you were still embarrassed, and a little uncomfortable as he placed his arm around your shoulders, "C'mon, I've got something that will really take the edge off."  

The glass crunched under your sneakers as you made your way into the lounge, looking around at the destruction your father had caused. 

You'd visited the station a few times, once to give your statement, and the rest to try and speak to someone about bailing your dad out. You'd gone in guns blazing, telling them you had no intentions of pressing charges and that it was all a misunderstanding, but you were simply told that an attorney intended to. 

Kicking off, you were quickly escorted out with the threat of being arrested yourself.

You were told he was put on a 48-hour hold, his past DUI really coming back to bite him in the ass and the cost of the bail was enough to make you lose all hope. A bail bond agent would be your only option.

Grabbing the broom from the closet, you ignored your pounding head and began to sweep up some of the glass. You had a party to prepare for, after all.

"How are you feeling?"

Everything sounded slow as if you were swimming underwater. The drowsiness was bad enough, but every time you managed to open your eyes, the blurred vision was enough to make you slam them back shut.

It sounded awful but... You felt relaxed, just as Liam had promised. Sure, weed was great at calming you, too, but when Liam escorted you into a spare bedroom, his friends all sat around snorting a powder from the bedside cabinet, you felt like you couldn't say no.

"I, uh... You know. Good. I feel good."

You were aware enough to know your speech was slurred, but couldn't find it in yourself to give a shit. You did feel good. Just tired. Very tired.

Your head rested against Liam's shoulder as you were snuggled into his side. You don't remember how or when you came outside, sitting around the fire pit with his friends, but the party had seemingly calmed down, and you could only make out a few different voices.

"Maybe the drinks before were a little too much," he chuckled, watching your head fall forwards a few times, the motion pulling you from sleep, "C'mon, you can't go home like this."

Tripping over your feet, Liam gently guided you back into the house, ignoring the wolf whistles from his friends. 

Kicking the door shut behind him, Liam led you toward the bed, laying you down gently after he'd pulled back the duvet, "You should sleep it off. Fair warning, you'll most likely feel like shit tomorrow."

Totally unaware of his warning, you were already passed out.

Pushing your way past the large crowd that had congregated in your living room, you needed to find some peace and quiet.

You used to love parties, after you began to hang around with Liam and his friends, you attended one every weekend and hung out at an abandoned warehouse that the group would often refer to as the 'Factory' on school nights, getting high without the worry of someone's parents walking in.

You didn't have that problem right now.

Shouldering a drunken teen out of the way, your body ached with the contact. Whilst your nose had been bloody, and your lip split, the majority of injuries you'd received were from the fall down the stairs. Bruises and cuts from the glass littered your body, and sometimes you'd have a sharp pain in your ribs whenever you'd inhale too deeply, but with the looming price of your father's bond, you couldn't afford to go to ER. 

So you settled for a much less expensive way of soothing the pain. It was as if reminding yourself about your body aches caused them to hurt more, and you rubbed your wrist as you made your way outside to the small garden.

"Move." Your tone was stern, leaving no room for arguments as your classmate jumped up from the plastic chair, allowing you to settle into it instead.

You had binged your way through your pill supply, both with Rue and alone. You couldn't deny that you had pushed the girl away recently. You didn't mean to, but you liked to be alone when you wallowed in self-pity.

After what felt like only a few moments of peace, a loud sigh came from someone who practically threw themselves next to you, "Everything OK?"

Maybe you were stupid to invite him and his friends. Hell, you didn't know who half the people at this party were. It was an odd feeling, wanting to be alone but around people. You couldn't explain it, let alone begin to understand it.

Rue's Mom had offered you a place to stay after her daughter had filled her in on what happened, but after a few days, you returned home, worried about being able to hide your habits from her, and not wanting to pull Rue down with you.

"Just in pain," you told him truthfully, trying to ignore the way his dark eyes lingered on your bruised wrist.

"You uh... You haven't got anything for it?"

Shaking your head, you looked up toward the stars, barely able to see them because of the city lights, "My, uh... dealer... He's in between stock right now."

"And Devon?"

"Said he had to head out of town for something."

Liam watched you as you deflated a little. He could tell you were in the throws of a withdrawal from something, "Well, lucky I saw him before he left then."

Your eyes flung open, watching him quietly for a moment before sitting forward in your seat, "What have you got?"

"Does it matter?" His brow raised as he tried to hide a smirk. And in all honesty... No. It didn't matter. At this rate, you'd take anything he had to offer.

It would be funny, if it wasn't so sad, how quickly you could fall back into old patterns.

"I don't care, Rue. I ain't goin'."

"C'mon Fez, if not for her, then for me. I don't wanna be surrounded by her old, rich asshole friends."

A humorless laugh escaped him as he leaned into the sofa, "Neither do I. Which is exactly why I ain't goin'. You don't need to either if you don't wanna."

Rue couldn't fault Fez's logic. She didn't want to go, so why should she? The only answer she had, was guilt.

She was the reason your father was currently sitting behind bars awaiting a court date, and she was the reason why you'd clearly spiraled into an addiction Rue didn't quite expect from you.

Yes, you took drugs recreationally, and you often drank with them, too. It might've been excessive but... She knew you were currently binging on them, already telling you that you'd run out of your supply. You were popping pills like candy, so she couldn't find it surprising. Remembering her own outburst at Fez when he refused to fuel her own addiction, Rue was glad you hadn't bothered him, knowing he didn't have anything to sell.

Watching Rue as she appeared lost in her own world, Fez sighed, "Look, I know you been feelin' guilty about all that shit with her Dad, but don't, alright? It's on him, no one else. He's just lucky the cops turned up fo' me."

Rue turned her attention to Fez, watching as he lounged on the couch inconspicuously, yet she saw his fingers sink between the cushions, content once he found the cold handle of a gun.

"What were you gonna do?"

Making her way toward the other couch, Rue sat herself down, watching him attentively. 

"Kill him." Fez didn't even hesitate, causing Rue to release a long sigh.

"Shit man. You got it fuckin' bad."

Fez's face scrunched up as he rubbed a hand over his head, deep in thought. Rue didn't know everything, he was sure of that. But it seemed she did know something.

"We friends, Rue. You know that."

Shaking her head, Rue pushed herself up, "Bullshit. You're both so fucking annoying. You coming to the party, or not?"

He wanted to, even if just to check you were OK. Rue wasn't exactly forthcoming with her answers when he'd ask, and that somehow made him feel **worse**. He was certain she was hiding something, but he knew she was just trying to protect you, and calling her out on her bullshit wouldn't get him anywhere. He knew Rue, and he knew that she needed to ask for help before she'd accept any.

But Fez knew damn well he wouldn't be welcome, and coming to your house was asking for drama that he wouldn't partake in. You already felt betrayed by him, he didn't intend to twist the knife by showing up.

Taking his silence for an answer, Rue released an annoyed groan before making her way out.

He watched as she left, following her to the door to lock it, confused when she turned around and sighed, “Grow some balls, Fez.”

 He could've called her out on the comment, telling her that he was only neck deep in shit because he covered for her, knowing damn well you would probably never speak to him again.

But friends didn't do that shit to each other. So instead, he let her stomp down the road, praying that you had the sense to keep yourself safe tonight. But he couldn't let himself dwell on it, he was meeting up with a new dealer in a couple of days, hoping that he could partner with her considering Mouse's... absence.

Then, he had a date with Nate Jacobs.

[bohemain]

▉ ――   GET TO KNOW ME BETTER!

▉ Alias / Name.   Lyn but the og besties will also know my name is Aylin xoxo

▉ Birthday.   August 9th  ( I'm turning 28 this summer, incredible )

▉ Zodiac sign.   A nasty Leo

▉ Height.   We don't talk about it  ( I think it's 5'3 )

▉ Hobbies.   Cooking,  studying philosophy rn,  DnD

▉ Favourite colour.   All shades of green

▉ Current book.   I'm a parallel reader aka I read multiple books because my brain is unhinged,   currently A Study in Scarlet and Wheel of Time,   and I just finished Children of Dune!

▉ Last film / show.   We're currently watching trash animes,  don't ask

▉ Inspiration.   April is Autism Awareness month xoxo,   tbh I've just been emotionally remembering my English lit teacher from high school who once gave me The Hound of the Baskervilles to read and that led me down a rabbit hole to this inofficially very autistic consulting detective and wanting to bring him to life as some sort of comfort muse while I cope with the possibility of my dad and I simply being autistic and having been unaware of it lmao

▉ Story behind the URL.   Bohemian was taken but he's simply a boheme supreme.   Simply a drug addict chilling on his chair in a cluttered apartment while brooding over crime.

▉ Fun fact about me.   I enjoy eating Nattō and I enjoy watching my fiancé leave the kitchen in absolute terror whenever I do even more

Tagged by. star of my soul @noblehigh, Tagging. @consultingsister, @wtsns, @ncmad, @strnza, @spxnglr!