media rat

but what's stuck with me ever since I saw it, is the lack of attention that Nickel Boys is receiving. Genuinely why is no body talking about it? I could write an essay on that movie that is like 20,000 pages long. Ross's use of the camera and POV is so powerful and innovative like it's such a different take on the South's racist history. Normally films about that time period take advantage of the violence and physical trauma, turning it into entertainment, but Nickel Boys focuses on the emotionality of the characters throughout their experiences and it's haunting. I think it was one of the best films of 2024 and is severely underrated, Nickel Boys I will ALWAYS defend you.

patrick = class clown

tashi = beauty queen in tears

art = new art form

THERE'S SO MUCH MORE

NOT ENOUGH POSTS ABT DILF!ART!!!! DO YOU HEAR ME???!?!!?!??!?!

i'm bouncing on it, doing cartwheels, spread eagle, on my knees, sobbing, desperate, barking, begging, on the counter, on his bed, on the tennis court, in front of tashi, in front of patrick, unashamed, insane, down right disgusting and disgraceful

There’s a rustling behind you, causing you to whip around and swing your flashlight towards the sound. A rat scurries out towards you, causing you to jump and drop the flashlight. A curse slips past your lips as you quickly grab it from the dusty ground of the Graybill Manor, the manor that you’re trapped in with the other contestants until morning.

“Stupid fucking batteries,” you murmur irritably, hitting the now broken flashlight against the heel of your palm as it refuses to turn back on. You don’t have any allies or teammates in the game, not wanting to have to rely on anyone. As the light flicks back on you let out a relieved sigh, and head further into the house. Brushing past broken furniture, cobwebs, and trash littered around by squatters. You don’t know why anyone would want to stay here for more than an hour, already wanting to leave. You find yourself in a random room, flashlight swinging around as you look for clues to the riddle when floorboards start to creek behind you. You immediately turn on your heel and swing your flashlight directly into the stranger’s eyes, your heart thumping.

“Hey, Jesus!” an all too familiar voice complains, putting hands up to cover his face. You can recognize that voice anywhere, the boy who spends hours at your father’s ranch helping with the horses. The boy who kept on stealing glances at you, who your father warned you to stay away from yet somehow you started to grow feelings for him. Dodge Mason.

You immediately roll your eyes and keep the flashlight on his eyes, “Is there any other part of this shithole that you can brood in?”

Dodge rolls his eyes as well and walks up to you, lowering your wrist so the flashlight isn’t blinding him anymore, his eyes are slightly confused, voice stern as he asks, “What’s with the attitude? You didn’t even look at me earlier.”

You chew your cheek and start walking towards a dresser, distracting yourself by looking for clues, “Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?” you ask, there’s the issue, Dodge’s sudden closeness and allyship with Natalie. You know it’s petty and your attempt  to sound casual fails as the jealousy is evident.

Dodge stands there, eyebrows furrowed as he watches you, “Girlfriend?” he mutters, then the dots click. He laughs, “Do you mean Natalie?” he shakes his head, watching you from afar, “She’s not my girlfriend, trust me.”

You roll your eyes at his words, blinded by frustration and jealousy. You had been so sure of your feelings for Dodge just to get brutally humbled, “Didn’t look that way at the player’s ball," you still remember the sight of him and Natalie in the hot tub together, laughing at one of his dumb jokes.

Dodge scoffs and walks over to you, “What so now we’re throwing accusations around? How’s that fair, huh?”

You inhale sharply and refuse to turn around to face him, “‘m not accusing you of anything, ‘m just saying for a guy who has so many secrets and is so mysterious you were awfully giddy last night,” you then mutter, "like a horny twelve year old."

Dodge narrows his eyes as he stands down at you absentmindedly searching the drawers, he grabs your arm and tries to turn you around, “Hey-” but you continuously jerk your arm out of his hold, making Dodge more and more frustrated. Dodge finally firmly tugs you so you turn around, back against the dresser, “Listen to me, God for once.”

Your eyes are full of annoyance as you glare up at him. Ignoring how the handsome angles of his face are highlighted by the dim lighting of the manor, ignoring how good his calloused hand feels as it slides down your forearm to your wrist, how you absolutely savor that feeling. You’re both silent, staring at each other. He knows he shouldn’t want you, your father’s warned him more than enough, he needs to focus on the game, and getting revenge for his sister. But God does he want you.

You feel nervous under his gaze, thankful that the lack of lighting hides your blush,  and start to protest, “Let-”

You’re cut off by Dodge pressing his lips to yours, his free hand cupping your cheek as electricity buzzes through your body. As quick as it happens, it ends. Dodge pulls away and looks down at you with wide eyes, “I’m sorry,” he quickly breathes out, his eyes searching yours for any hints of regret or disgust.

But you shake your head, get on your tiptoes and grab the collar of his gray shirt before reconnecting your lips. Dodge doesn’t hesitate to reply to the kiss, his hands gripping your hips like a vice and pressing you against the dresser. Months of built up tension between you two has led to this, Dodge’s lips melting against yours in a dark abandoned manor.

You slide your hands to cup the back of his neck, holding him closer as your fingers tangle in his hair and your heart thumps against your chest. Dodge groans softly and slips a thigh between your legs, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt.

The two of you get lost in it, desperate for each other as small sounds slip past both of your lips. You both forget where you are and the fact that anybody could walk in at any given moment. It isn’t until a rat brushes past your leg that causes you to pull away and let out a squeal.

Dodge looks at you panicked but when he looks down to see the rat running away he begins to laugh that rare boyish laugh you love. You smack his chest and turn bright red, murmuring, “Shut up.”

“I’m know, I’m sorry,” he manages to get out between snorts, kissing your temple apologetically. He then pulls away and raises an eyebrow, “Am I gonna have to get you jealous every time I wanna make a move?”

You bite your lip and shrug as you gaze up at him, “Maybe,” you then pause and add, “You know my dad will probably kill you if he finds out, right?”

being a rancher's daughter and him working for your father. you're usually chatty, well liked but he's just so quiet you can't help but be both frustrated and intrigued by him. y'know he's probably bad for you, has a temper, plenty of secrets that you've barely scratched the surface of, your daddy doesn't want the two of you anywhere near each other.

but when panic starts, everything changes, the forced proximity, his thing with natalie drives you insane and causes you to ignore him, knowing it's for the better. which just pisses him off more, until he finally gets your cornered at the haunted house challenge.

then you decide fuck it, good men die too so you'd rather be with him

"I'm not queer, I'm disimbodied"

UGHHHHHHHHHH IM CLAWING MY HAIR OUTTTTTT NEED THATT