#my best friend is going to wake up to so many unhinged voice messages and screenshots

[kiwichaeng]

sorry I didn't reply to your messages a supernatural fic consumed me

[coconutcordiale]

wasted + rooster please! congratulations 💝

golden hour

pairing- rooster x afab reader

warnings- 18+, unprotected piv, slight dumbification/degradation, light d/s, dom bradley, mention of oral (f receiving), completely unedited

length- 1.2k

an- thank you so much love!!! for the prompt "i know baby, i know" & many apologies for the wait on these celly requests. this was written in like....20 minutes. i have no idea if it's good or not

edit- realizing the next morning whatever took over my brain to write this was clearly inspired by @gretagerwigsmuse and the bradley & smart aleck cinematic universe (pls go read that it’s way better than this)

You don’t know how you ended up here. Mere hours ago, you were seconds away from killing Abby for making you go to the Hard Deck. Military bars all have the same kind of guy.

Now, your brain is melting out of your ears as you attempt to take in the gorgeous man above you, his sharp features glowing in the setting sun that filters through his salt-stained windows.

“Fuck,” Bradley groans from where he’s doing his best to bend you in half. “Feel so good, like you were made for me.”

That’s hot, your brain supplies as your eyes catch his biceps bulging where they bracket your head laid out on his pillow.

Shut up, you tell it, trying to keep some semblance of dignity in the face of having gone home with the exact kind of guy you swore you wouldn’t give the time of day.

You were excited when he first set down a fresh Jack and Coke for you at the bar, thinking this mustached man’s worn Hawaiian shirt equaled local instead of infantry. Unfortunately, his friends in khaki who kept trying to get Rooster’s attention quickly proved your instincts wrong.

It would’ve been easier not to end up in his bed if he didn’t look the way he does, brown puppy dog eyes so earnest and kind. If he hadn’t mentioned how much he loves to play Wordle, if his friends hadn't tried to coax him to the piano at least three times while you were there.

(If his arms weren’t threatening to break out of that old Hawaiian shirt.)

Your self-respect is getting shot to hell the longer you babble incoherent nonsense, breaking your gaze from his tan skin as your head lolls to the side, eyes going hazy and unfocused. He pulls all the way out to thrust back in again, slow and teasing, enough to bring you towards the edge again but not tip you over.

You know you’re whining, high-pitched and reedy, but you can’t find the wherewithal the stop any noises from tearing their way out of your throat.

It takes a Herculean effort to move your hands to his neck, tangling in those brown curls, wrapping your legs tight around his hips in an effort to ask for more, something your lips just can’t form right now.

Bradley grins, the edges a little sharp, a little mean as your pathetic whines must have gotten the message across. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you? Made you cum on my tongue and now you want more? Clench that tight cunt around my cock?”

Nodding desperately, you're feeling unhinged, your head bobbing up and down like a bobblehead. When you finally make yourself form actual words, your voice is wrecked. “Please – I need – ”

He catches your lips in a filthy kiss as those skillful fingers make their way down to your clit, stroking in strong, decisive circles. “I know baby, I know.”

Bradley speeds up and you get even louder, throat straining with the mewls leaving your lips.

“Cum for me,” he murmurs against your lips, cock hitting you just right on every thrust.

Your climax snaps through you almost immediately at his command, your back arching up into him and bringing him over the edge with you.

+

You leave the next morning before he wakes up. You can’t help it.

Sure, he’s hot, but you’re not actually going to date this guy. You just had a momentary lapse in judgment after seeing his deft fingers fly over piano keys, singing his heart out and so fully into the performance you thought the vein in his neck might burst. It was oddly endearing.

Every girl is a sucker for a guy who can sing. Serenades make logic and reasoning fly out the window. It’s totally not your fault.

So, it stands to reason that you nearly knock him down walking into the grocery store later that day. Because that’s the kind of fuck you the universe always has in mind for you.

“Hey,” Roos—no, Bradley, smiles, easy like you didn’t sneak out of his house without a second glance mere hours ago. He takes a look at the cold water bottle you have resting against your forehead, barely holding back his amusement. “Rough night?”

You want to glower at him but it’s hard to be mad at someone that looks like that under fluorescent lighting, turning away instead so you don’t have to stare at his unfairly beautiful face and remember what that ridiculous mustache feels like between your thighs. “Shut up.”

“I think you’re limping a little bit,” Bradley mock whispers as he follows you down the chips aisle.

He sounds way too proud of himself. You flip him off and he laughs, musical and happy despite the awkward circumstances. You can’t decide if you want to punch him or kiss him.

You and Bradley start talking at the same time, words rushed and overlapping.

“You snuck out before I got a chance to ask – ”

“Bradley, you seem like a nice guy, but I – ”

A tan arm reaches across you for a bag of salt and vinegar Lays and tossing them into his basket on the floor after you both fall silent. “You don’t like military guys.”

You freeze, mouth gaping open like a fish.

He shrugs. “It was pretty obvious last night.”

“I – yeah, I don’t – ” you stutter before pausing for a deep breath. “Not sure we’re a good fit, is all.”

Bradley nods. “I get it. I had fun with you though, and not just at my house. If you're willing to reconsider, I’d like to think I’m much more than my job.”

You purse your lips, wondering if your brain is actually broken as you consider taking him up his offer. He must catch on to your deliberation because he takes a step closer to you, big hand settling against your waist slow and gentle, giving you plenty of time to step away. Your feet are glued to the floor as you try not to sway into him and get lost in the spicy scent lingering on his tan skin.

“Breakfast,” he suggests when a few moments pass without you answering.

“It’s four p.m.,” you say warily.

He scrunches his nose like that’s inconsequential. “I’ll cook.”

“You know how to cook?”

He shoots you a withering glare and you smirk, pleased to have made him feel as wrong-footed as you’ve felt since he sat down across from you yesterday.

“Do you remember where my house is, or did you sprint out too quickly to notice?”

“I don’t remember saying yes.”

“You strike me as the kind of girl that isn’t afraid to tell me to fuck off.”

“So?”

He gestures at the lack of space between you with his free hand, where your body has betrayed you by leaning into his warmth. “This doesn’t feel like you telling me to go to hell.”

“It’s not,” you sigh, mouth twitching up at the corners despite your best efforts as you shove your basket into his hands. “Put my groceries on Uncle Sam’s bill.”

Bradley practically beams at that. “Of course. But you’ll have to come over to my place to get them, can’t have you sneaking off before I get a chance to play some Righteous Brothers for you.”

The picture that paints for you makes you want to melt. You’re fucked.

[flipwizardmcgay]

While camping out in the woods during their current mission, Riz decides to sweep the surrounding area. Fabian goes with him for protection.

On his fourth lap of the area, Riz hears a rustling behind him and sighs, turning.

“I thought I told you, I’m fine! You don’t have to keep checking up on me, Fabian!”

Said half-elf looks strangely sheepish as he shrugs, moving closer to stand under the tree Riz has perched himself up in. “Well, you can’t blame me. Someone did get kidnapped two days ago by a creepy version of themselves.”

Riz groans, sitting down on his branch and looking for a good place to jump back down. “You guys need to let that go. I can handle myself, plus, I’m not lying anymore! So no creatures made of lies can get me now!”

“Yes, well. Forgive me for being worried about my best friend, then.” Fabian huffs, and Riz pauses, the beginning of an alarm bell starting to go off in his head as he shakes it a little.

“So you’re admitting it?” he asks, smirking a little as he jumps down and stares up at Fabian, who looks briefly confused before shrugging.

“Slipped out, I suppose. Don’t make a big deal out of it, Riz.”

At the sound of his name, Riz freezes, whole body going tense for just a moment before he forces himself to relax, not wanting to alert the other person with him.

“W-whatever man. Hey, let’s get back to camp. Gilear and Cathilda must be almost done with dinner by now, and I’ve done so many laps that we’ve gotta be good, right?”

Fabian agrees easily (too easily) and Riz has to force himself not to run back to the campsite, to stay calm even as every bone in his body screams at him to get out of there.

When they do make it back, Riz forces his way over next to Fig, who’s scribbling in her songwriting notebook, and takes it easily, Fig’s only resistance being an annoyed, “Hey!”

“Sorry, just wanted to add something.” Riz says, handing it back with one finger placed so that it’s pointing at where he’s scribbled, ‘msg now’.

Fig’s eyes go wide when she sees, and Riz feels her instantly in his head. What’s going on?! Did you find something?! How come we can’t speak?!

That’s not Fabian he’s one of those nightmare duplicates he called me his best friend and then called me Riz I don’t want to tip him off because we need him to tell us where the real Fabian is Riz tells her, jumbled and panicked as he watches the thing talk easily with Tacker, the girl looking unfazed.

Fig looks at Riz, studying him for a long moment before nodding, almost imperceptibly, and turning to face Adaine, the two of them seeming to have their own mental conversation before Adaine turns to “Fabian” and her eyes glow a brief, brilliant, blue.

Once they return to normal, she turns to Fig with a panicked look, Boggy ribbiting softly in her arms, and Fig nods again and closes her eyes.

Riz watches the changes go over the group as Message hits them each in turn, subtle yet relieving.

Raug blinks before stepping closer to “Fabian”, wrapping his arm over its shoulder with a smile, tight and not meeting his eyes. Cathilda turns to face the thing masquerading as her employer, narrowing her eyes just a bit, hand going to one of her daggers. Tracker moves to stand in front of Kristen, still talking, while Kristen closes her book and stands along with Gorgug. Sandralynn takes a step back towards the van, helping a terrified-looking Gilear in.

And with a shout of, “NOW!” accompanied with the strum of a bass guitar, everyone springs into action, Raug and Tracker throwing the imposter to the ground and holding it there along with Gorgug, surrounded by Sandralynn and Cathilda, weapons drawn and pointed at it.

Riz pulls his Arcubus out of its holster and joins them, holding it directly at the imposter’s face.

“Where is he?” Riz grits out, voice almost hissed through the gaps in his teeth with how hard he was clenching them.

“Wha-who? Riz, I don’t-” it stutters out, making Fabian’s face look genuinely terrified.

Riz shoves his gun closer. “Don’t. You’re not him, don’t even fucking try.”

Almost instantaneously, the duplicate’s face changes, familiar features turning sinister and wrong and warped, and it bares sharp teeth in an approximation of a smile, voice now a horrifying familiar rasp, “What gave me away, Riz Gukgak? Did you recognize your romance partner?”

Riz feels bile rise in his throat, a tremble in his voice as he repeats, “What did you do with Fabian? Th-the same thing you did to me?”

“Why would I tell you? You have treated your romance partner very poorly, Riz Gukgak. I had thought you’d be more agreeable to this form.”

“Shut up!” Riz tells, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. “You’re not, and never will be!”

“Ohhhh, but you want, don’t you? Did I not tell you, Riz Gukgak, to do what it is you most want to do?” it asks, baring the sharp, terrible teeth, the approximation of Fabian’s mouth growing way too wide with its smirk.

“Right now, what I want most is for you to tell me where fucking Fabian is!” Riz hisses, pressing the barrel up to the thing’s throat, trying to quell the panic rising in his chest that they’ll know they’ll know they can’t know-

It’s smile grows impossibly wider, sharper. “Is that so? Well, then, Riz Gukgak, you may find your other partner where I left him in the woods to rest, like in the tales he so admires. I am surprised you did not notice before-”

Riz fires, taking off running as fast as his legs can carry him as the body goes limp under Raug and Tracker’s arms, scanning the surrounding area almost frantically for familiar white hair and dark skin.

He finds Fabian under a large oak, face down and looking so still and silent that Riz almost vomits with anxiety.

But when he turns him over, as gently and carefully as he can with his clawed fingers, he can feel a heartbeat under his fingers, see the rise and fall of his chest.

“Hey, man, wake up.” Riz says, shaking him a little harder than necessary, panic rising again when Fabian doesn’t so much as move.

He thinks back to what the creature had said, searching for some clue, something he’d missed-

“Like the tales he so admires-”

No. No, it couldn’t be-

But they knew so little of the Nightmare King and his abilities, and if a being made of lies that had been sent over and over again to torment him was possible, who was to say that being cursed to sleep until kissed wasn’t? And-and the thing had known, hadn’t it, the depth of Riz’s buried, ignored feelings, had called them ‘romance partners’ and had chosen Fabian specifically, and it couldn’t hurt to try…

And if it didn’t, who would know?

Riz bites his lip, realizing he was talking himself into it, and leans down, hesitating once more a bit away from Fabian’s (perfect, smooth) lips before letting himself press his own chapped, bitten ones to Fabian’s.

Nothing happens, and Riz feels a hot wash of shame as he pulls away, tears and nausea rising as he clenches his eyes shut and sniffles-

And then there’s a hand, strong and firm yet oh-so-gentle as it threads into his hair, tugging him back down to collide again with Fabian’s mouth, which was suddenly kissing him back with a ferocity that seemed to underlie everything Fabian did.

Riz feels more than hears the noise he makes, a yelp and a sob mixed together as he practically collapses into the body underneath him, his own fingers fisting in Fabian’s stupid letterman, shaking with relief and leftover fear and confusion.

Fabian’s smiling at him when they finally part, something soft and real that makes Riz want to sob even more, and whispers, “I do hope I’m awake, The Ball.”

In response, Riz jabs one of his fingers into Fabian’s chest, making the other boy yelp and shoot upwards, scowling.

“Oh, see if I kiss you again.” Fabian grumbles at Riz’s almost hysterical snort, rubbing at the spot.

“Oh, yeah?” Riz asks, feeling almost unhinged, giddy and wild, the whiplash of emotions he’d been feeling for the past handful of minutes making him dizzy. “Well, good thing it’s my turn.”

Fabian’s faux hurt look blooms into another sweet, soft smile, and Riz can’t help himself from kissing it.

(“Uh. Aren’t you going to tell them you actually were the one to wake Fabian with a Dispel Magic?” Gorgug asks Adaine as the rest of them watch the new couple embrace once more.

Adaine shakes her head, patting Boggy as she turns back to camp. “Only if they’re positively relentless with the story. But I like this much better than him after my sister.”

“Fair ‘nough.” Kristen nods, cracking her own smile. “Oh, man, I’d love to see their faces at the truth, though.”)

[thedaughterofkings]

regret nothing

This was technically written for Day Four of the @laurahale-appreciation week, that is Bickering Besties. But because I felt bad about not managing to write anything for the first three days, this not only has Stiles and Laura as besties, but also Alpha Laura, Hale Twins, AND Laura didn’t die, all squeezed into one 2k ficlet. And there’s Sterek of course, too! I hope you enjoy it! And go check out all the other fics written for this great new fest!

Derek regrets nothing as much as letting Laura go back to Beacon Hills alone.

Unfortunately she’s his elder - “By twelve minutes and don’t you forget that, Der!” - and his Alpha to boot, so Derek had had to remain alone in New York City while Laura went back to their old territory to look into the strange animal killings reported from there.

And now Derek has to suffer for his twin’s stubbornness. Because Laura? Befriended a pair of high schoolers the very first night she was back in Beacon Hills. And ever since, it’s been nothing but “Stiles this, Stiles that” with the occasional “Scott this” thrown in to mix things up.

Laura met them in the forest. At night. Where she was alone. Because Derek had to stay in New York City. Derek actually video calls her for once because Laura deserves to get glared at for that, but unfortunately she just laughs at him and says:

“I’m the apex predator, Derek, nothing out there would attack me. I was perfectly safe! Now the same cannot be said about tweedle dum and tweedle dee - Scott even has asthma, can you believe them?”

“I can’t even believe you,” Derek grumbles, but Laura ignores him and continues:

“So I heard them from miles away and decided to check up on them out of the good of my heart and Scott almost had an asthma attack when I reached them, but Stiles tried to attack me with a baseball bat - that’s what he was armed with, Derek! A baseball bat in the forest! What did he think he was going to find there? A bat? To bat away with his bat? A bat bat batting?”

And there Laura has to stop talking because she can’t stop laughing at her own terrible joke and Derek rolls his eyes and ends the call. But he sleeps easier that night knowing that Laura is still alive and well, which is not a given considering how Beacon Hills has treated their family.

The next few calls are similar to the first one. Laura calls to let him know that it looks as though there’s another werewolf at large and that’s how all the animals are killed, but at least she promises that she won’t go looking for it in the middle of the night again, and because Derek wheedles their “twinsies winsies vowsies” promise out of her (they were four when they came up with the name) he’s even inclined to believe she’s going to keep it. More concerning is that she visited Uncle Peter and that something was different about him, even though the nurse said there had been no changes. Nevertheless, Laura is sure that his scent has changed somehow - less rotten, is how she describes it and Derek believes. Her nose had always been the best, even before she became the Alpha.

Most concerning however is how Laura won’t stop hanging out with high schoolers. Not even Derek’s warning that she’s going to get arrested as a creeper deters her.

“Stiles’ dad is the Sheriff,” she says and laughs when Derek exclaims: “That just makes it even worse!”

Laura keeps collecting ever new strays, too, first Stiles and Scott, then Lydia and Jackson, and worst of all in Derek’s opinion, Allison Argent, Kate Argent’s niece. That phone call wasn’t a fun one; Derek shredded three of Laura’s throw pillows during it and Laura had to use her Alpha voice to stop him from booking a flight to the west coast immediately.

“She doesn’t even know about us,” Laura had said, quietly insistent, obviously willing Derek to listen. “She’s just a girl, who had to move into a strange new place and whose family is behaving weirdly. I won’t treat her as if she’s turned bad already, not when I might still do something to help her turn away from the dark side.”

“I thought the dark side had cookies,” Derek jokes weakly, but Laura just shakes her head grimly: “No, this one just has beetroot.”

Stiles is still the one she talks about the most, though. Apparently he doesn’t have many friends besides Scott and with Scott apparently in puppy love with Allison, Stiles has a lot of time on his hands suddenly and seems to want to spend it with Laura. Laura tells Derek of their coffee dates, and how they saw the latest MCU movie in the cinema last night, and Derek honestly thinks they are dating for a hot, scary second, until Laura denies it vehemently, with a loud “eewww no!” for effect. “He’s just lonely, I think,” she says, sobering again. “Scott is his best friend and he’s all but forgotten him because of Allison. Other than him he’s not close to many people; his dad is busy with his job, and his mum died years ago. Honestly, at first I mostly felt bad for him, but he’s actually a great guy. He’s funny and smart and sarcastic and a total softie beneath it all - you’d like him!”

“I doubt it,” Derek grumbles, but Laura refuses to drop it. She keeps singing Stiles’ praises and Derek honestly is a little jealous of the guy. He used to be the one Laura was closest to and he’s prepared to hate the guy just because he has stolen his twin sister. But then Stiles saves Laura’s life and Derek can’t even hate him anymore.

Laura is shot at by Kate Argent and Derek can’t sleep for three nights without his phone pressed to his ear and Laura’s heartbeat coming calm and steady through the line. The bill is going to be insane, but it’s worth it. Stiles is the one who finds her and gets Scott and Allison to steal the wolfsbane bullet needed to save Laura’s life. Laura tries to play it off, but Derek knows his twin and he knows it was close, that he almost lost her.

But Laura promises that she’ll be more careful from now on and insists that Derek should stay in New York and at least finish the semester. So when Peter wakes up and goes on a mad killing spree, Derek has to somehow get himself together enough to study for finals while worrying about the last two members of his family ripping each other apart - literally. The only thing keeping him somewhat sane are the regular messages from an unknown number that let him know that Laura is still alive and doing well. There’s also the occasional random remark upon everything from the history of male circumcision to questions about the New York Mets. Derek rarely replies, but he notes that each message is signed ‘Stiles’.

He did promise Laura to get through the semester, but she’s not here to stop him from rushing through his French Post-Revolution Literature exam, handing it in just after the half mark. His flight is leaving in two hours and he still needs to make it to the airport - his classmates staring after him in dismay because they are nowhere near finished yet isn’t his problem.

Derek arrives just in Beacon Hills in time to watch Peter rip out Kate Argent’s throat and to stop Chris Argent from blowing Peter’s brains out. There’s a group of teenagers huddled at the edge of the clearing, apparently armed with homemade molotov cocktails and in one case a bow and arrows of all things. While Derek is grappling with Chris, who is surprisingly strong for a mere human and slippery to boot, Laura tackles Peter and roars him into submission. Derek almost lets Chris go, the urge to submit to his Alpha is so great. Interestingly, he can see some of the teenagers react instinctively, too, either ducking their heads or presenting their necks. When he looks back towards Laura, she’s flashing her eyes at Peter and his flash back, red against blue and Derek lets out a deep breath of relief. Peter has accepted Laura as his Alpha. It’s something neither of them had thought off - with Peter in a coma when Laura became the Alpha, he hadn’t had the chance to build a new pack bond with her and, waking up, had been for all intents and purposes an Omega. Hopefully he’ll be a little less unhinged now that he is part of a proper, if small pack again.

Speaking of unhinged, Chris has renewed his struggles, apparently realising that all attention is going to focus on him now that Peter is under control. Derek just holds him still as best as he can and waits for whatever Laura has decided to do with him.

Laura ignores him to start with, heading towards the teenagers first, kneeling down in front of the brunette, who is white as a sheet but still holding her bow tightly, ready to lift and shoot at a moment’s notice.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Allison,” Laura says softly. “She deserved to die, but I did not want you to witness her death, especially not like that.”

“She deserved to die?” Chris roars and Derek grabs him more tightly to stop him from attacking Laura with his bare hands. “She was my sister, you monster.”

Laura’s back straightens abruptly and she gets up again, stalking towards Chris and Derek predatorily.

“She was a mass murdering maniac, a cold blooded killer, and a rapist to boot. She murdered my entire family and you call me a monster? I know how much your daughter loves you and that is the only reason why you are still alive right now,” she growls, getting right into Chris’ space. “If you won’t listen to me, listen to Allison, but know that: the Hales are back and this is our territory, to protect from people like you and especially your sister. So tread carefully, very carefully. The real monsters here aren’t the ones with claws.”

Here she flicks her claws at Chris’ face, stopping just short of taking out his eyes, and Derek hears one of the teenagers cheer under his breath: “Yes, show him those claws, Laura!”

Then Laura turns to Derek and says: “Let him go, Der. Allison says she’ll keep him in line and I trust Allison.”

The brunette raises her chin defiantly and nods, obviously aware of how significant that is and not planning to disappoint Laura, so Derek releases Chris, who goes straight to his daughter and drags her away through the trees. Allison rips herself free, though, and runs back to throw her arms around Laura in a hug. Derek hears her whisper: “Thank you, I’ll talk to him. He didn’t know about Kate; I’m sure of it. And I’ll talk to mum, too.” Then she runs back to her father and leads him away.

Laura waits until they are out of sight and human hearing range and then drags Derek into a hard hug, mumbling into his neck: “I thought I told you to stick out the semester! Didn’t you have an exam today?”

“I did,” Derek defends himself. “I finished early; it’s not my fault if the exam’s too easy!”

Laura laughs and releases him just long enough to drag him over to the remaining four teenagers:

“Guys, this is my younger brother Derek, whom you all already know about.”

“It’s just twelve minutes, Laura,” Derek mutters, and Laura pinches him in the side.

“As I was saying, my younger brother Derek, and these are Scott-” A curly haired boy who is still looking after Allison and her father, as if they are suddenly going to reappear. “and Jackson-” A prototypical high school jock, who seems to be more than a little shell shocked, but also definitely very much in awe of Laura. “and Lydia-” She’ll definitely be prom queen, Derek thinks, but there’s a shrewd look in her eyes that makes him think that she’ll probably be valedictorian as well. “and last, but so not least,” Laura gestures dramatically and Derek already knows what’s coming because the only one that’s missing is Stiles, Laura’s new best friend. Derek has come up with all sorts of horrible visions of what he might look like, all to fit a horrible sister stealer, but all of them pale against reality. A buzzcut, lickable moles, and obscenely pink lips are the first things Derek notices, followed by the most gorgeous eyes he has ever seen, almost werewolf golden and with a twinkle that holds teasing promise.

“This is Stiles,” Laura finishes with a flourish.

And Derek thinks: “Oh god, he’s pretty.”

And Laura cackles in delight.

[leeicedtea]

I watched Ingrid Goes West and here are some thoughts

Did you guys all see Ingrid Goes West? Did you guys all do the thing that I did because I need immediate attention and everyone immediately should be able to address my need to connect about something right now, immediately? I enjoyed this film and its aesthetic and its general mission to creep me the fuck out, and now I’m going to talk about it. Here.

I realize that I’m playing into the very thing the film aims to cultursize. Cultursize is a new word that I made up just now (would you believe it) which means criticizing the culture of. The film takes some playful punches (and some very painful knee kicks too) at our obsession with the curated identities of Instagram celebrities. It begins with a slew of cliche and immediately recognizable Instagram posts from some made up celebrity named Charlotte, in that saccharine and falsely accessible voice we all know so well: “living my best life” “live laugh love” “travel the whole world just to be close to you” and that sort of thing. I’m paraphrasing. But you get it. It’s an instant laugh, because we want to assure ourselves we are far from this person. We are laughing because we “get it”...we are not Charlotte. Even though we are the reason Charlotte has those hundreds of thousands of followers. We are the reason Charlotte talks like that, because we crave it like hungry little hippos hoping for the heroin drip of someone’s “best life”.

After this short little intro, we get to the disturbing yet heroic opening scene where Ingrid, played by Aubrey Plaza, stalks Charlotte’s wedding from her car in real time.  We reveal she’s actually parked right outside Charlotte’s wedding. Having seen enough of Charlotte having a good time online, she stomps into the wedding and maces Charlotte’s pretty little face. IRL. Clearly an overly zealous fandom gone wrong. She is institutionalized and we begin our story. 

I’ll spare you the plot details, because with the internet’s general hate of spoilers, I imagine the three people reading this have already seen the film. Aubrey���s performance as the crazed and connection-starved lonely girl Ingrid is phenomenal. We see the curtain pulled to our less admirable internet stalking habits. While not as intense as her obsession with celebrities, we’ve all found ourselves opening social media to avoid being alone with our thoughts. The moment things go quiet, we open our phones for some consolation. Our Twitters, Instagrams, Facebooks... even CNN notifications at this point, are just the voices in our heads, keeping us from facing the fact that we’re alone. What this film does so well is capture the solitude and isolation that modern day social media has introduced into our busy lives. Ingrid runs to California like a rat in a cocain maze, hunting down her latest obsession Taylor Sloane. Instead of cocaine, she’s seeking a hit of connection that can be shared to her followers. 

Because even when she does befriend Taylor, played by Elizabeth Olson, their friendship is earmarked by the ‘grammable moments. This is no better illustrated than by the moment Taylor shares her deepest “secret” with Ingrid of opening up a boutique shop in Joshua Tree called “Desert Door”. Sharing secrets is a way to connect to someone, to feel vulnerable. But in this film, her secret is a currency to build her facade around. We see this when Ingrid overhears her sharing the exact same secret to a more famous Instagram celebrity at a party exactly word for word how she phrased it to Ingrid. We see that even Charlotte’s “real” moments of vulnerability are carefully crafted into bite size morsels. Like the 140 characters of Twitter or the captioned hashtags of Instagram, her secret is carefully crafted to feel intimate and shareable.  That is, after all, what draws Ingrid to obsess over Instagram models. While distant and removed physically, the way they share intimate moments of their life with their followers feels like they’re your best friend, letting you in on a secret that nobody else knows. Except hundreds of thousands of other people know, and they’re all liking and commenting with you.

The pacing of the film is on point, and the story stays one step ahead of the audience, just like your social media feed endlessly scrolls down to keep you occupied for hours. The writing keeps the stakes high and gripping, and Ingrid’s agency to drive the story forward out of her desperation to connect to someone is nicely done. For a film about a vapid lifestyle, it’s anything but empty. 

Unfortunately, the ending sells itself short when Ingrid records a viral video with no makeup on, revealing that she’s a fraud to her followers. This is after Taylor discovers she virtually stalked her across the country to Single White Female her way into her life, stealing her dog just to “meet” her being one in a list of many unhinged things Ingrid does to Taylor. This is after Ingrid's house of cards comes down, and she’s alone in a house full of ants in the middle of the desert with nothing but internet followers to talk to.  This video starts promising, and at first we get the sense she’s going to pull back the curtain to her fans and give up her addiction to Instagram once and for all. That would have been a strong and more emotionally satisfying ending. Instead, she videotapes her suicide and posts it on Instagram. 

Then, you can guess what happens from there. Her suicide is poorly planned as with most of the big decisions in Ingrid’s life, and therefore it doesn’t work. She wakes up in the hospital and finds out she’s gone viral. She’s surrounded by balloons and stuffed animals sent to her by her fans and when she opens her ‘gram, she reads thousands of uplifting messages and words of encouragement from people that watched her suicide video.

And she loves it. Here’s where I hated the ending, and you can disagree. Ingrid’s fall from Instagrace would have been more cathartic if she broke through to freedom on the other side. Publicizing her suicide was lazy writing, and having Ingrid feel joy at finding out she went viral is not a satisfying finale. What this film is missing at the end is a genuine moment to shake off the falseness of the world. The video tries to be that, but ending in a suicide attempt does nothing but take us back to the heightened Instagram world. It’s irresponsible to position her fame as a result of her suicide attempt, and even more irresponsible to position that as a win for Ingrid. I would have loved to see the version of this film where Ingrid posts a genuine video denouncing her account and telling the world her story of how she was a fraud and took her obsession too far. And then I would have loved to see that go viral and have her truly not give a damn about it anymore.

I would love to see that, because I would have liked to see a win for Ingrid. Instead, her “win” is just a sign that her pattern of unhealthy behavior is going to continue and she’ll never get the help she really needs. I suppose if this was a thriller, which is a genre it sometimes borrows from, that ending is appropriate. We can never get out, it seems to tell us, and that may be more accurate than my ideal version. 

In any case, this film is funny, creepy, and aesthetically appropriate for it’s subject matter. I’d give it a double tap.