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seeing the mass hysteria happening on twitter from ppl that are like Convinced it's gonna shut down is honestly hilarious
#tumblr has been a dumpster fire since its conception and is still here#you think one of the biggest social media platforms is gonna disappear?#speaking of which this reminds me so much of the various scares ppl on tumblr used to have about it shutting down#except we were all teens when that happened so we were more suceptible to fearmongering and generally blowing things out of proportion#but i see adults freaking out on twitter and it's just funny i guess#this is very much a been there done that situation for me#my only fear is of all the people coming here from twitter#cause tumblr only became tolerable after all the freaks left for twitter#now that they're starting to come back im like holding a crucifix and making a salt circle or some other intricate ritual to ward them of#*off#marshal meows
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Seven x Deadpool!Reader
t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader is insensitive and an asshole since they're also a supe working at vought, your powers are the exact same as Deadpool (even the skin condition), mention about killing, death, gore, r-pe, n@zis?!?!, alcohol, some intimacy (?). Also reader is gn!!
ᯓ★ here's a version with the boys <3
HOMELANDER
This man hates you so fking much
Has tried to kill you multiple times, he tried lasering you, tearing you in half and even throwing you into the sky but you just always manage to come back like the damn plague
Eventually he gives up trying to kill you and just had to deal with the fact you'll be kept alive... just temporarily though... he's still looking for ways to kill you
However, your powers gave you dozens of advantages when around Homelander.
He can be having a meeting about something serious and everyone would be listening to him due to their fear towards him, then there's you who'd be doing your own thing and just shout out unrelated things like "Donald Trump just blocked me on Twitter!! HAH!! SUCK IT CORNFLACKS!!"
Everyone turning to you with startled expressions while Homelander simply rolls his eyes before continuing his presentation.
You are a complete nightmare to the PR team, that's why for interviews or any events, you'll always be paired up with Homelander so he can keep you under control and stop you from saying weird shit that could ruin the company's image.
"So Deadpool, how does it feel being in the Seven working alongside Homelander? You've been working together for almost 3 years now" A reporter would ask as you two are surrounded by screaming fans.
"Like I'm in the twilight series, not because of the fantasy but because I'm still waiting for the part where he impregnates me—"
"O-kay! That's enough, just silly ol' Deadpool with those inside jokes"
"You can tell in this eyes that he wants to fuck me right now. HE'S GONNA FUCK ME!!" You shouted as you're being dragged away by him.
Obviously when you had found out about his relationship with Stormfront, especially her background, you had to say some shit about it. Not giving the slightest care about the fact he could be grieving over her death.
He'll be in his room standing in front of the window and you'd just storm in, being as loud as possible.
"I can't believe you dated a N@zi!! Is it because I'm Jewish?!" Which may or may not be true, nobody knows your origin.
He may hate your guts but if he ever needs someone to help him do some dirty work, you're the person for the job, you never ask why or how, which could be the only thing he likes about you.
"Y'know, maybe if you didn't have such a big mouth, you'd be tolerable"
"All the people I've slept with have said otherwise"
Compatibility? 50%
STARLIGHT
Before she joined the Seven, she had an image of what kind of person you were, she just didn't know it was this worse.
When you found out she used to work at this Sunday School Church, you just haaaaad to say something about it.
"So like, you say that prayer always works, but every night I pray for my hair to grow and it never does. Do you think God has me blocked? How do I get unblock?"
"Uh..."
You two surprisingly get along without one wanting to slice the other's throat, except sometimes the things you say can really piss her off. Which is why when the company assigned her a new costume, she was trying her hardest to avoid you, but you found out anyways.
"Holy shit Starlight! Nice costume, is this your Miley Cyrus breakthrough? Girl power!"
Insert her groaning out of annoyance.
Again, the second you discovered she was dating a guy behind the death of Translucent, you were heartbroken :(
"Of course this happens right when my therapist gives up on me!"
Despite your behaviour, you pitied her when it was revealed that she was taken advantage of by The Deep, so like any good friend, you took revenge by cooking his friend octopus and eating it happily in front of him.
"Revenge does taste sweet" You'd say happily while Starlight just watches by the side, both grateful and horrified at your actions.
In my opinion, you would definitely be the person she goes to once she starts working with the boys, you'll always be providing whatever information that happens in the company for her to use.
It helps her worry less about getting anyone killed 'cause you literally can't die.
Compatibility? 60%
QUEEN MAEVE
You're half the reason why she rethinks about her life choices when she wakes up in the morning
Not because you're a handful (which you are) but because you're always paired together on missions
"Deadpool! The hostages!"
"OKAY! God... you act just like my drunk uncle"
Which is a joke/nickname you like to address her by because of her alcoholism (yikes)
Whenever the company needs you for something, half of the time she's the one assigned to search for you.
There was this one time she caught you trying to have Anika track down Kanye West's location, nobody knows what shenanigans you were up to.
Another thing to mention was that you two were chosen by the company to sing a Christmas song for the year's Christmas ceremony.
Just imagine during the bridge of the song, she's singing normally while you're completely going off, your high note so high you were sure you had Mariah Carey a run for her money.
Even though she finds you a lot to deal with, you're actually her buddy to train with.
Since you're very skilled with Katanas, she likes to practice her swordsmanship with you.
You like to tease or make fun of her everytime she fails to strike you which is good motivation for her to get better. Maybe you guys bring out the best of each other?
Last thing I'd like to add is when she was found out by the public that she was a lesbian (She's bi but you get the running joke), you had gifted her a t-shirt that says, 'Biggest Dick in Town'
Compatibility? 80%
THE DEEP
Your human punching bag
If Vought was a high school instead of a company, you'd be the bully and he'd be the nerd getting stuffed inside the locker room.
For example, Homelander could be confronting Starlight about her relationship with Hughie and everyone would just start raising their voices til you come in yelling "SHUT UP!" to the Deep who had not said a single thing during the entire time.
Just imagine him staring at you like 😐
To be honest you also ate his friend octopus so you guys are actually never getting the chance to make up.
"Look dude, I don't appreciate your tone"
"I don't appreciate your haircut either but we can't all get what we want"
You may be a crazy person but you weren't going to be okay with the fact he violates every woman he sees, so not only did you cook the octopus but you also called in a male stripper disguised as a woman just for him to celebrate on his birthday.
Just imagine him all happy when you tell him the news and later that night he'll run inside your room, completely pissed off at your act after finding out but you just laughed and said.
"Happy April Fools 😚!"
"That's next month dipshit!"
Also, you never understood his weird fantasies. He has a thing for sea animals??You've caught him multiple times either flirting or getting off to one. It was concerning even for you.
"From how many animals you've fucked, you might just turn from the ocean's 'Seaman' to 'Semen'." You joked which he did not find funny.
Maybe you messing with him could just be your way of getting along with him since you're the same with everybody else, it's just he has more flaws to poke fun of and he's sensitive about them.
Compatibility? 5%
A-Train
He thinks you're fucked up in the head.
Half of the shit that comes out of your mouth just has him reacting like in the GIF
Buuuuuut you're the one he always brings to the club because you always know ways to give the party life.
You've somehow even got on the wall of fame, a lovely portrait of you with your hands making out a heart.
Also, you know about his business with Compound V waaaaay before anyone else did. He's still grateful you didn't tell anyone.
Just like everyone else, you also enjoy messing with him except he's fast and constantly avoiding you.
"Hey A-Train, how much do you wanna bet that I can die faster than you?"
"Dude... seriously?"
You guys rarely get sent on missions together because you're always slowing him down, not basing off the fact he's fast but because you get easily sidetracked with other things.
"Alright, we're here now, how much C4 do we use?"
"Fuck math! Let's use all of 'em!"
You ended up detonating all of the C4 on you before he could object the idea, he was able to run out in time, your action nearly getting him killed while you ended up dead.
But it's fine you'll just grow back.
You know that race he has against Shockwave? You'd be at the VIP section standing near where Homelander and Queen Maeve is, waving your huge banner that has a picture of A-Train's face and yours pasted over a figure carrying the other in bridal style.
Compatibility? 55%
TRANSLUCENT
He makes people paranoid but you make him disgusted.
There was this one time he was bored so he snuck in your room to see what you were doing.
At first he was confused why you had so many cute plushies but then the more he explored your room, he realised your room is basically every collector's dream.
You even had a huge teddy bear in the corner of your dressing room.
The reason why he doesn't like to spy on you is because the last time he did, he saw you putting your hand in the blender, then proceeding to put your private part into it.
Never again, he thought, never again.
He doesn't need to witness you carry out your intrusive thoughts.
Surprising enough, you're close with his son, I'd like to think that after his death, you practically became the kid's godparent. Though you can be sort of a bad influence, leading up to how he is in Gen V.
You always tell him you hate kids but he thinks otherwise.
After all, he can read people well.
You guys like to pull pranks on each other since you guys like competing on who's more sneaky
There was this one time, you woke up to find your suit gone so you ended up walking around the building, completely naked and unfazed by people's stares.
It was when you walked around the corner that you found your suit worn by someone else, turns out it was Translucent under it.
"Why is it so fucking tight dude? How do you stay in this shit all day?"
"You get used to it"
Compatibility? 85%
BLACK NOIR
Lovers.
He doesn't mind your attitude because he actually can't say anything about it.
No seriously... he can't talk.
But hey he's got a good shoulder to cry on.
"I just... hffgh... I can't believe my album didn't surpass lady gaga's... She doesn't even know how to use Katanas like I do!" You'd let out a loud sob while he just stares at you for a while before placing a hand on your shoulder, patting you gently.
You know the scene where he's playing the piano for one of the company's party? You'll be laying down on top of it and singing in your usual overdramatic high pitched voice.
He finds your humour amusing so he always does this little head tilt like in the GIF when you say some weird shit while waiting for his response.
Since both of you are the only members of the Seven that wears a full body suit, obviously you had to try on his but since it was impossible to achieve that, you just had the company make a copy for you.
He'll be walking down the hallway doing his normal routine until he notises another person in his suit, the moment you speak and he realises its just you is when he let's his guard down.
"I just got some transplants done to my ass, that's why I look different"
You both are never sent on missions together 'cause you guys don't work well, pretty much nobody works well with him since he's the silent type.
Example, you two were hiding behind some crates ready to jump on the bad guys who were snucking in illegal drugs. He gestured for you to wait as he went to check again, only to turn back to see you gone.
"Marry Christmas motherfuckers!"
He heard your voice shout and he found you standing on top of the stacked crates, machine gun in hand and began shooting aimlessly.
He didn't even do anything but just watch until you ran out of bullets. However, multiple survived and began shooting at you so you ended running towards where he's hiding at.
"Yankee yankee!" You yelped.
You know the video of the two girls taking off their wigs to reveal that they're bald and they start bonding over it? I'd like to imagine that's you and Black Noir with the skin condition under the suits.
One more scenario I wanna add, you guys could be having a meeting but since you were bored and you always hated meetings, you'd draw a big heart on a piece of paper and show it to Black Noir from across the table. Surprisingly he'd draw a heart back to you.
You were overjoyed so you began to draw you and him doing it, doggy style. He stares at your doodle for a while before choosing to just focus on the meeting instead.
Compatibility? 90%
(This took a while cause I was on vacation)
#the boys#the boys x reader#the boys x you#the boys homelander#the boys starlight#the boys queen maeve#the boys the deep#the boys a train#the boys translucent#the boys black noir#the boys tv#homelander x reader#starlight x reader#queen maeve x reader#the deep x reader#a train x reader#translucent x reader#black noir x reader#homelander#starlight#queen maeve#the deep#a train#translucent#black noir#x reader#the boys amazon
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ BEACHED! (OP81)
pairing: oscar piastri x f!reader
summary: after oscar saves you from an embarrassing accident on the beach, you accidentally go viral
warnings: cheesy humour, chaos
ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just tweeted
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo
liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 98,002 others
yoursername shout out to australia, especially to the random dude in orange who saved my life from prematurely ending (note: waves in australia are brutal stay away if you can't swim)
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yourbsf NO FR SHOUT OUT TO KING I WAS TOO BUSY LAUGJING AND TAKING PHOTOS
yoursername I NEARLY DIED Y/B/F
yourbsf i was too busy giggling! your dream boy and first time he's seeing you is nearly drowning
friend1 Y/N DO YOU KNOW WHO THAT IS (6)
yoursername an australian?
user IS THAT OSCAR???
user oscar in papaya even on the beach… i fear he has no other clothes
user WHAT IS GOING ON
user NOT ME SEEING OSCAR TODAY AFTER HE SAVED A RANDOM GIRL FROM DROWNING?!?!
yoursername who tf is oscar
oscarpiastri hi! random dude in orange here
yourusername UM.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ twitter reacts
ੈ✩‧₊˚ dms with oscar
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted stories
[captions:
1. treated the tour guide to lunch :)
2. note: don’t let an f1 driver drive the golf cart if you value your life. moments before i nearly died (again)]
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo
liked by oscarpiastri and 76,408 others
yourusername live evidence of the moment my tour guide turned on me
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user UHHHH
user oh so now they’re hanging out… i smell love at first sight
user NOT HIM DIVE BOMBING YOU????
oscarpiastri HEY i saved you again as well🙄
yourusername AFTER I SWALLOWED LIKE A GALLON OF WATER
friend1 @/yourbsf where were you during this murder attempt
yourbsf honey they don’t even know i’m here
ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just posted a photo
liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 224,517 others
oscarpiastri best way to get used to the aussie waves is to just go for it☀️
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user okay when will an f1 driver save ME from drowning and fall in love (and then try to drown me on two other occasions)
user hahaha i think they’re just friends
user GIRL ^ look at what he just posted dedicated to her and tell me he’s not already obsessed
yourusername please stop trying to end my life i have a child at home
user UM
oscarpiastri a dog. she has a dog.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo
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yourusername australia i am in love with your food, your weather, and certainly your people. i can’t wait to come back one day🤍
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user ‘and certainly your people’ 🥹🥹🥹
user i knew she was only on holiday but why am i legitimately sad she’s leaving?
user why am i crying for people i don’t know
user is the shirtless man in the bg of the third oscar😳
oscarpiastri don’t be a stranger🧡
ੈ✩‧₊˚ texts with oscar (1&2) and your best friend
ੈ✩‧₊˚ your username just posted a photo
liked by 65,087 people
yourusername puppy therapy
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user no oscar in the likes again :(
user he’s so fluffy
user my heart aches so bad i want her back with oscar
user no fr i’m hoping that they can meet up when he’s travelling again :(
yourbsf coming over for a cuddle (with you and charlie pup)
ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just tweeted
replies…
user why do i feel like this is about y/n…
user i hope they still talk :(
user with the way they’ve been posting i don’t think they do :(
user sending you love oscar. you’ll smash next season🧡
user something definitely happened
user im guessing just summer romance that fizzled out now they’re both busy :(
ੈ✩‧₊˚ mclaren just posted
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mclaren pre-season testing underway✅
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user did anyone see the interview he did on f1’s page?
user no what happened?
user they asked him about his winter break, and his smile faded so fast :/ then he just said he did a bit of exploring and moved the conversation on so fast
user god they. really fell for each other huh
user mclaren you have an opportunity to do the best thing. invite y/n to one of your races and reunite them please
ੈ✩‧₊˚ an email from mclaren
ੈ✩‧₊˚ texts with your best friend
ੈ✩‧₊˚ mclaren just posted a photo
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mclaren a special home race for oscar with even more special guests🇦🇺 #OP81
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user IS THAT… IS THAT CHARLIE PUP. IS THAT Y/N.
user DID MCLAREN TAKE OUR ADVICE
user IS IT FINALLY HAPPENING ARE MY LOVES REUNITING?
user IM HERE RN AND SHES DEFINITELY IN THE PADDOCK
user FOR REAL? HAS OSCAR SEEN HER?
user NOT YET BECAUSE HE’S BEEN IN PRACTICE SESSIONS BUT THEY FINISH SOON
ੈ✩‧₊˚ user just posted a thread
ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo
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yourusername who said fairytales aren’t real
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user OH MY GOD ITS OFFICIAL
user i would like to thank mclaren
user why am i crying. i don’t know these people
oscarpiastri and in all 100 versions of the story, i’d always choose you
ੈ✩‧₊˚ oscarpiastri just posted a photo
liked by yourusername, landonorris and 247,721 others
oscarpiastri i guess i was the real race winner after all
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user THE CAPTION IM SOBBING
user can’t believe y/n went from nearly drowning to dating the internet’s boyfriend
yourusername can’t wait to have my life threatened by you for years to come
oscarpiastri okay nearly backing over you was an ACCIDENT
mclaren you’re welcome😉
landonorris when is it my turn
mclaren challenge accepted…
landonorris NO NO NO I TAKE IT BACK
————
a/n: HIHIHI i hope this lived up to expectations omg. the snippet for this went crazy but i don’t know if this is good EEK
huge thank you to EVERYONE for all the love in my inbox and comments recently, i’ve had so much fun writing these smaus so it’s been great to see everyone’s thoughts����
this will most likely be my last one shot posted before christmas with not funny (didn’t laugh) being my first post afterwards, so i want to say a huge merry christmas to all who celebrate!!
and finally. thank you for 800 followers!!! merci du fond du coeur. ça représente beaucoup pour moi🤍🤍🤍
- giselle / zellie / gigi / elle / gi i havE SO MANY NAMES
taglist (found here): @iluvvmeeee @champagnelovers101 @alessioayla @idkiwantchocolatee @skatingiswalkingincursive @six-call @he6rtshaker @hobiismyhopeu @tallrock35 @sunflower-golden-vol6 @woozarts @minkyungseokie @vellicora @tsukishitm-a @lucyysthings @treehouse-mouse @iloveyou3000morgan @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers
#f1 x reader#f1#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri scenario#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri one shot#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader
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we all agree that the push towards short form, vertical video (tiktok/reels/shorts) is ruining fucking everything right? Tiktok has been useful for the dissemination of political information (e.g Gaza) i’ll give it that, but that feels moreso a result of meta and twitters algorithms being just a little *more*’evil and censor happy. And i want to make it very clear that my hatred for tiktok has nothing to do with the fact that it was a product of a Chinese company, because i see a lot of critiques relying on some sort of sinophobic conspiracy. On the contrary, it’s what tiktok has become in the vacuum of western popular culture and marketing that makes me fearful.
I know that every generation faces a new, polarizing technology and inevitably, there are those among said generation who will critique it. That is the nature of things. However, there is also something to be said about how, with the acceleration of technology (running parallel to the acceleration of capitalism, acceleration towards collapse etc), each coming generation faces an increasingly more malevolent “advancement”. TLDR, i’m going to talk my shit.
I’m going to speak on the aspect that is most relavent to me, as a musician. I am petrified by what short form video is doing to music and to musicians. I think that tiktok provides the illusion of making music and being a musician more “accessible” while actually pouring gasoline on the fire that the pop music machine had already started. Standards for what popular culture “expects” from music are being doubled and tripled. Let’s talk about song length. Success and marketability favoring shorter songs is not something new, it has been the trend for decades. But with short form video, it goes even further. You’re not just hearing the same song over and over on the radio, you’re hearing the same 15-30 seconds of the same song over and over again. This in-turn, starts to influence the way people write music, persuading people to make songs that *could* have that 15 second appeal. There is an art to pop music, there is an art to writing a catchy hook—this is something else. We weren’t meant to hear or understand music like that. There are so many songs from reels that i found annoying, until i heard them in their full context. It’s insidious. It makes everything feel like a fucking commercial, even if nothing is being advertised.
I’m going to pull directly from someone else’s experiences, someone who’s music seems to be everywhere on short form videos. The ambient musician My Head Is Empty has a hundred million streams on the song “i was only temporary”. Despite that exposure, they experience “never ending copywrite issues” and have “received death threats” by people who refuse to credit them when using their song. Pulling a quote here, from a comment on their own post
“vyva_melinkolya unfortunately it just gets worse. i saw a bot content page that steals pod cast footage and spams dozens of videos with my song stolen, comment on a "motivation" spam content , who actually made a post telling people the name of my song, and the previous page i mentioned, the pod cast spam commented on that video saying "Bro stop don't give out the sauce. this audio helps me pull numbers brooo" - so people are actively INTENTIONALLY stealing it and telling people to not credit me. like. u can't make this stuff up”
Beyond this, My Head Is Empty feels frustrated that despite all this exposure, the rest of their work (nine albums) as a musician remains under appreciated, and i think that frustration is 100% valid. People cannot fully appreciate music, or even understand it as a work of art created by another human, when it’s taken so far out of its context. Again, the soul being sucked out of art by “the machine” isn’t anything new but, this is a whole other level. Being a musician is more expensive than ever, streaming earns you fractions of a cent etc, it all feeds into itself.
When a song or a musician i love deeply finds its way on to tiktok (let’s use Duster’s “Stars Will Fall”, one of my favorite songs ever as an example)I am not upset that i cant “gatekeep” it anymore. I’m not upset by the idea of something I love and hold dearly finding a larger audience. I AM upset in the manner in which it is being disseminated. I’m upset with art I hold dear to me being chopped up and used as “trending audio”. When I saw Duster in concert recently, lStars Will Fall” was the song I was most looking forward to hearing. It was the last song they played, and it was the song seemly everyone chose to talk loudly over. The audience was mostly people my age and younger. This complaint might come off as petty or pretentious or cliche, i frankly do not give a shit.
Let’s talk about how musicians are expected to promote music on tiktok/reels. This is a matter of opinion, at the risk of sounding very pretentious: the “POV we are x band from x” “My label says i need x followers before x” “posting this video until c musician notices me”. I understand that some of it is in jest but, what the fuck? When did this become the norm? I do not blame anyone for promoting their music like this, but we should want more for ourselves. I’ve always said being a musician is deeply embarassing, inherently. If being a musician is inherently embarassing then what is this? I dont have a solution for this, and the music industry has always been ugly and bloodthirsty and seldom fruitful— but i feel like the very small amount of dignity we had as artists is now lost and I cant fucking stand it. Artists seem to promote the same single with dozens of reels over the course of months, hoping that something sticks. I dont want to sound like i’m shaming or, again, sound like i can provide a solution. I’m just very fucking sorry that it seems like this is “the way”. And personally, i’m scared that if i dont “get with the program”, im going to fail.
Again, all of this speaks to larger trends in entertainment industry and even larger trends in capitalism. But i’m just airing specifics right now because frankly? I cant take it anymore.
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i'm feeling controversial today so here's another hot take. and before you type away at your keyboards, know that this is all coming from a south asian.
white leftists have got to stop acting like christianity is the only religion that deserves to be criticized and you cannot touch any other religion because that'd be racist and bigoted. because as an indian who's watching my country progress towards hindu nationalism, this attitude doesn't help at all.
white people see hinduism as this exotic brown religion that's so much more progressive but don't know the violence of the caste system, how it others a large portion of the population on the basis of caste, literally branding them as "untouchables". they teach us in school that this problem is a thing of the past but the caste system is still alive and shows itself in violent ways. and that's not even covering how non hindus are treated in the country. muslims especially are being killed, have their houses bulldozed, businesses destroyed, and are being denied housing, our fucking prime minister called them infiltrators and there's this fear among hindu extremists that they'll outnumber the hindus in the country. portraying hinduism as this exotic religion does a disservice to all those oppressed by the hindutva ideology
similarly, white people see buddhism as this hippie religion that's all about peace but have no idea how extremist buddhists in myanmar have been persecuting the rohingya muslims for years and drive them out of the country.
if anything portraying these religions as exotic hippie brown religions is a type of orientalism itself.
and also y'all have got to realize that just because christianity has institutional power in america doesn't mean there aren't parts of the world where they are persecuted on the basis of religion. yes karen from florida who cries christophobia because she sees rainbow sprinkles on a cake is stupid but christian oppression DOES exist in non western countries where they're a minority. pakistani christians get lynched almost on a daily basis over blasphemy accusations. just look up the case of asia bibi, a pakistani christian woman who was sentenced to death on blasphemy charges because of something she said when she was being denied water because it was "forbidden" for a christian and a muslim to drink from the same utensil and she'd made it unclean just by touching it (which is ALSO rooted in casteism and part of pakistani christians' oppression also comes from the fact that a lot of them are dalit but that's a whole other discussion). and that's just one christian group, this isn't even going into what copts, assyrians, armenians etc have faced and continue to face. saying that christians everywhere are privileged because of american christianity actually harms christian minorites in non western countries.
and one last thing because this post is getting too long: someone being anti america doesn't automatically mean they're the good guys. too many times i've been seeing westerners on twitter dot com praise the fucking taliban just because they hate america. yes, the same taliban who banned education for women, thinks women should be imprisomed at home, and consistently oppresses religious and ethnic minorities in afghanistan. yes, america's war on afghanistan was bad and they SHOULD be called out for their war crimes there. no, the taliban are still not the good guys. BOTH of them are bad. you cannot pretend to care about muslims and brown people if you praise the taliban. because guess what? most of their victims are BROWN MUSLIM WOMEN. but of course white libs who praise them don't rub their two braincells together to make that conclusion.
this post has gotten too long and i've just been rambling so the point of this post is: white "leftists" whose politics are primarily america centric should stop acting like criticism of ideologies like hindutva, buddhist extremism, and islamic extremism BY people affected by these ideologies is the same as racism or religious intolerance because that helps literally no one except the extremist bigots. also america is not the centre of the world, just because something isn't happening in america doesn't mean it isn't happening elsewhere
#islamophobes do not fucking touch this post i swear#also talked more about india - and south asia in general - because i'm indian so i can speak on south asian issues more#this post got longer than i intended it#also didn't want to use the term islamist because that term has been primarily used by zionists and islamophobes#tagging all the countries i mentioned here#religion#india#pakistan#myanmar#afghanistan#rebecca talks
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Something I encounter more and more in fiction is a specific brand of assurance to the reader that I can only ascribe to The Twitter Cop That Lives In Our Heads. There's a pervasive desire to make it clear that, see, I'm intersectional, I'm conscious of the potential problematics of this encounter, I'm one of the good ones, and it's not that I don't understand the impulse and the fear of being called out because I do! It's scary out there! But it is often so grating to be reading a novel and have a conversation be derailed by a brief and pointed exchange about accessibility when not a single character in the book is disabled, or to have a heated makeout sesh interrupted by an explanation of the traffic light system, and the sad thing about this is that it would be absolutely possible to show these things in elegant and unobtrusive ways but for various reasons we are resorting to telling instead.
I know that out here in the world, we talk about enthusiastic and informed consent a lot, and those are very important conversations and this topic should be part of comprehensive and widely accessible sex education everywhere, and if you are entering into a relationship with a new partner, you should probably sit down and lay out explicitly what you are both comfortable with and how you prefer to communicate. HOWEVER. I, the reader of a high-heat contemporary romance novel, do not need to have this discussion with the characters who are about to fuck each other blind after their first date. I do not need to sit in on the equivalent to a new employee's onboarding process where they get told how to use the company intranet. It's boring! It's so dull! Instead, how about we package the information that is actually being transmitted (we are two enthusiastic partners about to fuck each other blind and we are also sensible people who respect each other's preferences and boundaries) in a way that doesn't disrupt the narrative momentum? Maybe interject an "is this okay?" or have one character go "tell me what you want" all sexily. Reference the characters taking note of their partner's reactions. There are a lot of ways to work this kind of Statement of Ethics into your writing, whether it's about sex scenes or trans rights or whatever, and personally I find this much more compelling than a neatly-injected soundbite which always comes off as either overly anxious or performative to me.
A secondary issue here, in my opinion, is that the world (specifically social media, but social media is part of the world) increasingly demands explicit statements from artists and uses an absence of "I wholeheartedly condemn x"-type quotes as an indication that someone actively endorses x, because why wouldn't they say so otherwise? This is bad. It's a bad development. It's a really gross combination of the literacy crisis and callout culture and it gets people hurt. So I really do not and cannot blame writers who feel the need to be very explicit about what they believe in, which is why I am not suggesting that you shouldn't include those beliefs in your work; what I am saying, though, is that your work will be much more authentic and touching if you find ways to show me.
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Ego [9]
mafia bts x stripper yn; hybrid universe
Everyone had heard of the Dirty7s, even distantly. Nobody could put names or faces to the members, but the name was enough to strike fear into the hearts of civilians, criminals, and law enforcement alike. They’re known to be methodical, impenetrable, and most of all, merciless. Nobody wants to cross any of them. Lest of all you - a college student stripping to pay her debts.
What happens when you fall into their web of deceit and lies?
What happens when you find that you don’t want to escape, even when you know you should?
Masterlist / i don’t have a tag list / find me on twitter / word count: 1.8k
AN: Here we go again! crime syndicate BTS X stripper yn. I’ll post this on AO3 too. Some of BTS are humans, some are hybrids. They all are obsessed with Reader. Reader is black in my headcanon.
(yandere / angst / gore / fluff / smut / violence / none )
trigger warnings: hey.... I'm back! yn is depressed. she's suffering a lot but she's not alone. nothing of significance. just needed to get this out after so long. I'll be back soon with more drama!
“Breaking News: The body of an African-American Beta hybrid was found dismembered and abandoned under a bridge in East Point. East Point is known for its houseless and opiate-dependent population. Many new strains of synthetic drugs are being released onto the streets, made accessible to vulnerable, unmated Omegas. Markings found on the body indicate the involvement of a gang widely known as the Dirty7s. The Dirty7s are an anonymous group with links to…”
The TV drones on in the background but you don’t hear it. Well, you can’t hear it. You hadn’t been paying much attention to anything for the last few days. How many? You’ve got no idea. It’s been enough for your hair to start smelling bad anyway.
You walk out of the bathroom, dropping the towel as you go, grabbing the big t-shirt with Thandi’s face on it and pulling it on. You had gotten a couple from the funeral from Thandi’s mom. She had made them, gotten them pressed at a local tailor’s place to raise some money for the funeral. You knew how expensive it was to die. Flashes of your mothers face fly in front of your eyes before you can stop it and they make you wince. You tried to pay but Thandi’s mom had refused your money. “My Thandi told me all about you,” she had said, holding your hand so tightly it almost hurt, but you didn’t complain. In fact, the sting-burn sensation grounded you, and you felt yourself get lost in her deep, knowledgable eyes. She might have just lost her daughter, but it seems as if she had already experienced a lifetime’s worth of pain. It made you ache. “You… You were her friend. She loved you so much.”
And then you felt it again, the guilt-driven nausea.
It was the first time you met her mom, but you knew all about her daughter, Sana. The young girl, only eight years old, stood solitarily, as the preacher droned on and on about ‘eternal bliss’ and ‘blessed memories’ and ‘living on in memory’. The expression on her face, you knew it so well. It was as if nothing was making sense to her mind. She was so sad, so lost, so lonely. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her throughout the funeral. She looked around at all of the people at her mother’s funeral, curious yet careful, quiet and withdrawn, before turning her eyes to the coffin at the front of the church and biting down on her bottom lip. She didn’t make a sound, not a peep - the whole time.
They opted for a closed casket because well… What other option was there? The truth of Thandi’s death wasn’t lost on the participants of her funeral but it was bad manners to bring it up. The thought alone was enough to bring bile to your throat so fast, it made your head spin. You rush to the bathroom and spit up in the toilet. Just a little bit this time, thankfully. You swill your mouth out and walk to grab something from the refrigerator. It took you days to realize that someone had come into your apartment while you had been at the funeral and had fixed certain things.
The fridge had been filled. The pile of dishes washed. The laundry had been taken and washed and returned all clean and folded. The bed had been spread. The rug had been moved around and vacuumed. The bathroom had been straightened out.
Once you had come to your senses, you burst into grateful tears.
You knew who it was.
He had left a t-shirt of his, saturated in his scent and so big it drowned your body in material, in your closet for you to sleep in.
You take a glance at the t-shirt again, wrapped around a big pillow on your bed, and you sigh, getting into bed once more, hair still damp at the roots of your head.
Your phone lay on the table beside your bed, silent but charging, and you take a second to look at it before you grab it and make a call.
It doesn’t ring but for two times before you hear his voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello, YN,” Jungkook says, quietly.
You don’t answer. You can’t find your mouth, you can’t feel it well. Your tongue feels fuzzy and heavy, like a weight is sitting on it.
“YN…?”
Jungkook pauses slightly before the sound of him shifting his weight comes through the receiver.
He asks, softly, “Do you need me?”
You are still quiet, but you let out a light sigh through your nose. It’s the loudest you’ve been in days.
No. I don’t need anyone, you want to say. But again, more silence. Your tongue is too heavy. Your stomach is rolling and your head feels all loopy. You can't imagine where all these good hormones are coming from, flooding your system with flickers of light and ease and warmth and syrupy goodness.
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he murmurs, gently. “I’ll stay on the phone as long as you need.”
Another sigh.
He takes a moment to think before he says, a certain chipperness in his tone, “Shall I tell you about my day, Pretty?”
A final sigh, and you turn over to your side, phone pressed to your cheek. If you were more present in your body, it probably would hurt.
Jungkook sounds as if he reclines in his seat as he begins telling you all about his day.
“It’s been mostly boring. I woke up at 5:30. I went to the gym for a couple of hours. I boxed and ran and did some weights. I think I could press three of you, you know, Pretty? You're so little compared to me. Sorry. I got distracted. Then, I showered and ate breakfast with Tae. You haven’t met him yet, right? I think you’d like him. A lot. Anyway. After, I met Jimin for some work-related stuff. Very boring. Do you want me to tell you about it, Pretty?”
He doesn’t let you get a sigh out before he continues.
“I didn’t think so. Then, after hours of back and forth, I went to go pick up my suit. We have a fancy dinner to go to this weekend. It’s Jin-hyung’s birthday.”
His voice gets all syrupy and warm, and it twists and rolls in your stomach all hot and uncomfortable. Why does his happiness make you feel so bothered?
“-and after we finish at DeMaggio’s, Joonie-hyung says we’re going on a helicopter ride around the city. Would you like to do that one day? Should I invite you? I can do that, you know. I don’t think Hyung would mind.”
The thought alone makes you snort.
He pauses and then, when he talks again, his voice seems relieved.
“You laughed, Pretty.”
You blink, somewhat surprised. He wasn’t lying. You did laugh, breathy and weak as it was.
“Pretty, you know I miss you so much, right?”
You close your eyes tightly at his words, lip getting sucked between your teeth.
He takes a moment to ask, quietly, almost needy, “Do you miss me?”
Your throat gets all tight and thick, and you feel horrible all over again. He hears you choke on something, because his voice gets all flighty, worried and concerned over the phone, as he peppers you with soft words.
“You don’t have to say it.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Please, don’t cry.”
“You’re breaking my heart.”
And then, he pauses and says the one thing you both craved and dreaded to hear.
“She wouldn’t want you to be this angry with yourself,” he says. Then, with more confidence, he claims, “You’re allowed to be happy.”
You cut off the phone before the sobs take over once more.
////
Jungkook taps the edge of his phone on the table a few times before he curses to himself. The wolf glances up from his spot in the corner of Yoongi’s office and asks, “You think I pushed her too much?”
Yoongi looks over the top of his book and remarks, “It isn’t the end of the world, Kookie. Relax. You did a good job with the cleaner. She probably is sleeping next to the t-shirt you gave her and she called you, of all people she could’ve called.”
Jungkook bites his bottom lip and admits, “I’m getting frustrated.”
Yoongi pushes, lightly, “With?”
He puts the book to the side, knowing full well that he wasn’t getting any more ‘him-time’ while the wolf was occupying his personal office in their home. He loved each of his brothers dearly, however… Fuck, he needed his own place sometimes.
“Being patient,” the wolf explains, glibly. “It’s all so fucking boring.”
“Then occupy yourself with things that matter,” Yoongi suggests, moving to his feet. “I think Tae might be done with the guy downstairs, if you want a turn to pummel something moving?”
“The fucker’s still alive? Tae’s losing his touch,” Jungkook remarks, amusedly. He wasn’t lying. Usually, Tae would have had him chopped into tiny pieces and thrown into a river or incinerated. Jungkook wonders why he’s taking his time.
Yoongi snorts, pushing his glasses into his hair. He only needs them when his eyes start to get dry, like now. He usually didn’t use his other form, preferring to be in his natural hybrid state when in the comfort of their own home, but he’s been testing his personal limits recently, worried that he might freak YN out with his skin, his eyes, his tongue… She was prey, at the end of the day. He probably should have the lights off but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. “Not even. Jin won’t let him die. He keeps zapping him with the AFIB machine. I heard he shitted himself.”
“Well, he shouldn’t have been fucking around, pretending to be something he’s not,” Jungkook replies, an annoyed look passing over his face. The younger of the two moves to his feet and he asks, “Say, hyung.” His tone of voice catches Yoongi’s attention, so he sits up a little more in his comfy office chair, eye brow quirking so as to prompt the wolf to continue speaking. “Do you think YN will actually come to understand us?”
Yoongi pauses to mull over his answer for a few seconds before he answers, honestly, "I don’t think she has a choice.”
Jungkook acknowledges his answer with a melancholy look on his face.
Then, he glances down at his Rolex and makes a small noise of glee. “I’ve got a spare hour. I think Tae might be a little fatigued.”
Yoongi snorts before reaching back for the book. His eyes are getting awfully dry. Suddenly, the lights flick off and Jungkook glances back from his spot at the door, a narrow line of yellowed light slightly warming the room.
“Hyung, you know I always know, right?”
Yoongi scoffs. “Get the fuck out of here, pup.”
Jungkook closes the door and Yoongi finally switches back to his natural form, eyes narrowing into slits and he reaches for his book once more, settling comfortably into his chair.
It just started getting good, too.
- end -
Schemer (1), Abstentious (2), Thievery (3), Melancholy (4), Writhing (5), Lusting (6), Non-negotiable (7), Cutting the cord (8), Nevertheless (9)
#bts fic#jjk x reader#myg x reader#bts x reader#bts x yn#mafia fic#mafia bts fic#bts series#ego jungkook#ego yoongi#ego namjoon#ego jimin#ego seokjin#ego bts#stripped au#mafia au#abo bts fic#abo bts#abo dynamics#hybrid bts#bts hybrid#btswriterscollective#btswritersclub#btswritersguild#kpop au#kpop fic#ego hoseok#ego taehyung
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I was minding my own business on twitter (the fall of the AO3 drives us to desperate measures) when I see this post:
(link to the original post here)
And I was like:
Do you guys understand what that means?!
Miguel has maximum security under everyone who wears the watch and keeps them under surveillance 24/7 (bro needs a life and therapy).
And Gwen still gonna see Miles.
Gwen. Still. Gonna. See Miles.
That's why I get so livid when people hate her and ask why she didn't come see him sooner.
She couldn't. Literally. Gwen was under surveillance.
Gwen was begging Jess not to tell Miguel and he already knew. This girl's fear of being found out and sent home is very real and justified, that's because she still didn't seem to know that Miguel was watching her from the beginning.
She was already screwed by the time she arrived on Earth-1610 because Miguel knew she went to see Miles and broke his main protocol at the moment she could go to his dimension.
And despite all the fear she went. She saw Miles.
And she was going to possibly get kicked out anyway even if she got the spot and Miles didn't go after her.
So if I see one more Hater say why she didn't come see him sooner, I'll show it.
Gwen didn't go see him because she literally 👏🏽couldn't.👏🏽
Because I know that the moment her clock is programmed to Earth-1610, Miguel would block on time because it is obvious that Gwen is in his crosshairs all the time. And not only would she be sent to a house that her father had held a gun to her head, but then she would never be able to see Miles again because she would no longer have the technology.
If having an official mission from the Society, Miguel was already on her head, imagine what it was like in the preoccupation work of preventing her from flying straight to Miles? Miguel is not stupid.
Gwen would inevitably be kicked out of spider society. She loves Miles too much to stay away.
And Miguel knows this.
He knows that all Gwen needed to go to Miles was an alibi.
#across the spiderverse#gwiles#ghostflower#miles morales#gwen stacy#miguel o'hara#society is soo scary
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christian universalism strikes again
(Reposted from Twitter)
So a rabbi I know came back from LA pretty jazzed about a Jewish addiction treatment facility there called Beit T'shuvah and so we talked about their approach and that got me curious about non-AA approaches to dealing with addiction which, my friends, was fascinating.
I’ll admit that almost everything I know about AA is more or less from The West Wing. I'm fortunate in that no one in my immediate family has dealt with substance abuse issues, and as far as I know, none of my close friends are alcoholics. My knowledge is pop culture knowledge.
But hearing about Beit T’shuvah was very interesting to me because:
I'd heard that a lot of people who aren't Christian have a hard time with AA because it's so Christian.
The difference in philosophy was subtle at first glance but actually paralleled a lot of the differences between Judaism and Christianity if you dug into it.
Anyway, I got curious about whether success rates were different for Christians vs. non-Christians and started googling. I didn't find much in the way of the data I was looking for, but I did find something a lot more disturbing, which is that the whole 12-step thing is not science-based. At all. For example:
The National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse compared the current current state of addiction treatment to medicine in the early 1900s, when there weren't a lot of standards for who could practice medicine. In order to be a substance abuse counselor in many states, you don't need much more than a GED or high school diploma.
A 2006 survey found "no experimental studies unequivocally demonstrated the effectiveness of AA or TSF approaches for reducing alcohol dependence or problems."
And I want to make clear here that I'm not saying AA is bad--clearly it's helped people. The problem is that it's touted as a universal approach, which is a problem when it's not based on any sort of actual science.
AA claims that its success rates for people who "really try" are 75%. (And boy does that mirror gaslighting diet language.) But the most precise study out there that's NOT coming from AA (https://amazon.com/dp/B00FIMWI1O) put actual success rates at 5-8%. One of the major textbooks on treating addiction ranks it at 38th out of 48 on its list of effective treatments.
So just like most fad diets, it fails for almost everyone who tries it, and then blames the individual for its failure.
A glaring issue is that the 12 steps don't really acknowledge--or provide any guidance or structure for dealing with--other mental/emotional health issues. That’s a giant problem when people with substance abuse issues have higher than average rates of those issues. (Take a moment to consider how the victim-blaming approach of “if you didn’t succeed, it’s because you didn’t try hard enough” is going to intersect with someone’s major depression.)
Now, if 12-step programs were just one available treatment approach out of many, this wouldn’t be that big of an issue.
But 12% of AA members are there because of court orders. Our legal system is requiring people to undergo treatment that is:
Christian-based
Not scientifically supported
A failure for the vast majority of people
I mean, here's a pretty comprehensive breakdown that talks about the lack of scientific support for it, alternative treatments (like those in Finland, and naltrexone), and the fundamentalist origins of AA.
The founder was a member of the Oxford Group, an evangelical organization that taught that all human problems stemmed from fear and selfishness, and could be solved by turning your life over to divine providence, basically. Sound familiar? He based AA on those principles, and given that the only alternative was "drying out" in a sanatorium, and that AA members would show up at bedsides there and invite inpatients to meetings, it must have looked really enlightened to people. In 2022, it bears a queasy resemblance to evangelizing to people in prison, literally a captive audience.
To be fair--to their credit--they were some of the first people out there saying alcoholism was a disease, and not a moral failing. But they didn’t treat it like a disease when it came to testing treatment options:
Mann also collaborated with a physiologist named E. M. Jellinek. Mann was eager to bolster the scientific claims behind AA, and Jellinek wanted to make a name for himself in the growing field of alcohol research. In 1946, Jellinek published the results of a survey mailed to 1,600 AA members. Only 158 were returned. Jellinek and Mann jettisoned 45 that had been improperly completed and another 15 filled out by women, whose responses were so unlike the men’s that they risked complicating the results. From this small sample—98 men—Jellinek drew sweeping conclusions about the “phases of alcoholism,” which included an unavoidable succession of binges that led to blackouts, “indefinable fears,” and hitting bottom. Though the paper was filled with caveats about its lack of scientific rigor, it became AA gospel.
And then Senator Harold Hughes, who was an AA member, got Congress to establish the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism, which promoted AA's beliefs, and sometimes suppressed research that conflicted with them:
In 1976, for instance, the Rand Corporation released a study of more than 2,000 men who had been patients at 44 different NIAAA-funded treatment centers. The report noted that 18 months after treatment, 22 percent of the men were drinking moderately. The authors concluded that it was possible for some alcohol-dependent men to return to controlled drinking. Researchers at the National Council on Alcoholism charged that the news would lead alcoholics to falsely believe they could drink safely. The NIAAA, which had funded the research, repudiated it. Rand repeated the study, this time looking over a four-year period. The results were similar.
The standard 28-day rehab stay, prescribed and insured:
Marvin D. Seppala, the chief medical officer at the Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation in Minnesota, one of the oldest inpatient rehab facilities in the country, described for me how 28 days became the norm: “In 1949, the founders found that it took about a week to get detoxed, another week to come around so [the patients] knew what they were up to, and after a couple of weeks they were doing well, and stable. That’s how it turned out to be 28 days. There’s no magic in it.”
The last sentence here (bolded for emphasis) is especially chilling.
That may be heartening, but it’s not science. As the rehab industry began expanding in the 1970s, its profit motives dovetailed nicely with AA’s view that counseling could be delivered by people who had themselves struggled with addiction, rather than by highly trained (and highly paid) doctors and mental-health professionals. No other area of medicine or counseling makes such allowances.
There is no mandatory national certification exam for addiction counselors. The 2012 Columbia University report on addiction medicine found that only six states required alcohol- and substance-abuse counselors to have at least a bachelor’s degree and that only one state, Vermont, required a master’s degree. Fourteen states had no license requirements whatsoever—not even a GED or an introductory training course was necessary—and yet counselors are often called on by the judicial system and medical boards to give expert opinions on their clients’ prospects for recovery.
And, again, the idea that this is the One True And Only Way to deal with alcohol abuse leads to medical professionals ignoring research and treatment options that could be helping people. They are, in essence, taking all this completely on faith.
There has been some progress: the Hazelden center began prescribing naltrexone and acamprosate to patients in 2003. But this makes Hazelden a pioneer among rehab centers. “Everyone has a bias,” Marvin Seppala, the chief medical officer, told me. “I honestly thought AA was the only way anyone could ever get sober, but I learned that I was wrong.”
Stephanie O’Malley, a clinical researcher in psychiatry at Yale who has studied the use of naltrexone and other drugs for alcohol-use disorder for more than two decades, says naltrexone’s limited use is “baffling.”
“There was never any campaign for this medication that said, ‘Ask your doctor,’ ” she says. “There was never any attempt to reach consumers.” Few doctors accepted that it was possible to treat alcohol-use disorder with a pill. And now that naltrexone is available in an inexpensive generic form, pharmaceutical companies have little incentive to promote it.
I'm not saying that AA is bad. I'm saying its hegemony is bad. It clearly is effective for some people--a minority of people. But it's not for the majority of people, and that's a problem when it's being prescribed by courts (and doctors) as if it's a one-size-fits-all approach.
It’s not an accident that a Christian approach to treating addiction presents itself as the One True Way For All Humankind, insists that courts and doctors privilege it, demands that people take its effectiveness on faith, and blames anyone for whom it doesn’t work for not believing/trying hard enough.
Hegemony is a problem.
(Photo credit: Pixabay)
#christian hegemony#addiction#christian supremacy#aa#maybe courts should be recommending treatment with a better than 8% success rate and actual science behind them just saying
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THE ENGINEER | MCU X FORMULA ONE CROSSOVER
summary: where daniel riccicardo is star(k)struck
previous
fc: gabbi garcia
author's note: kind of a filler tbh, I just wanted to practice writing for F1 since this is my first time and it's also the first time I'm creating an SMAU for tumblr.
warnings: iron man 2 spoiler, mentions of violence (I don't describe it, I just lightly cover it)
twitter
real life
"You have to make sure Mick doesn't get on his phone before I surprise him," Viviana said as she navigated through the thick crowd of people, ignoring the stares that were aimed at her.
Ever since the F1 WAGS (whatever that meant) Twitter account leaked that she just arrived in Monaco, she could practically feel people discreetly follow her even if it was to no avail considering her appointed bodyguards (courtesy of the one and only Happy Hogan) were only a couple steps behind her and stopped whoever came closer than what was comfortable.
"How exactly am I going to do that when all of you are practically stuck to your phones all the time?" an irritated voice replied.
"Be careful Toto, your age is showing," the Stark cooed, and she could practically see the man roll his eyes even if she couldn't see him.
"Also, didn't you say that you were going to send someone for me? I don't see anyone who looks like they'd know what they're doing be here," Viviana told Toto.
"Viviana!" She heard a voice in front of her and practically sighed in relief when she saw him.
"Lewis!" She greeted gleefully, hugging the man when she got close enough.
Lewis hugged back, and joked, "Never thought I'd see you outside of Fashion Shows,"
Viviana first met Lewis during the Monaco Grand Prix back when she was only 11 and he was 25. She didn't meet him for long though, as their meeting was cut short when Vanko infiltrated the race and attacked her father. She was quickly escorted away when it happened, in fear that Vanko would attack her next.
It was the first and last time a Stark would drive in a Grand Prix (or will it?)
(possible foreshadowing?)
However, Viviana would see Lewis in other places like the countless Fashion Shows he was a part of and she was attending. He'd always ask if she was ever going to visit the paddock, but he'd always get rejected and he understood considering it brought up bad memories for the girl.
"Trust me, if it wasn't for Mick, I would be out doing something else that isn't bumping elbows with random people," Viviana shuddered, as Lewis looked at the clearly out-of-place girl in amusement.
As they began walking, Lewis and Viviana started catching up, talking about various things. "I didn't know you and Mick were friends, much less best friends," he told her, making her shrug.
"We haven't seen each other in a long time, because I was busy with the company and he's busy with F1, we never had time to hang out in public. We'd only ever hang out at the Tower off-season," she told him.
"I mean, since you're here now, you're probably going to come here more now," he told her.
"Lewis!"
Both Viviana and Lewis turned to see Daniel Ricciardo, who managed to catch up with them. He gave a wide smile to Lewis, but when he realized who the girl next to him was, his eyes turned wide for a second before stuttering. "Uh—hi. Daniel Ricciardo," he said, holding out a hand for her to hold.
Viviana looked at him in amusement at his starstruck expression before shaking his hand and said, "Viviana Stark,"
"Oh, I know," Daniel blurted out, his face turning red at his obvious mistake.
Deciding to save his friend from further embarrassment, Lewis said, "Daniel, I was just escorting Viviana to surprise Mick at Mercedes, do you want to—"
"Yeah! I mean, sure. It'll be nice to see George and... George," Daniel said.
As Viviana turned to start walking again, Daniel turned to Lewis and said "George and George?! I couldn't even come up with another name?"
"You were practically drooling at the mouth, mate," Lewis chuckled.
"It's Viviana Stark! She's an absolute legend and not to mention she's really beautiful!"
"If this is how you react with her, I'm only imagining how the other drivers are going to react,"
#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 imagine#f1 x oc#f1 oc#f1 ig au
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I'm sorry...
Hi... I wasn't active because I was healing from everything that happened to me and I was trying to stay safe. I still am. I only come for a short while now, because before I was scared to say anything even though I really wanted to.
Some of you may have heard of the drama with MatchaBunns from twitter, some may not. I don't want to go into great detail about what happened since I don't want to go back to it, I want to forget about it and never go back to it. In short, the previously mentioned person was accused of grooming. And I, naive and thoughtless, defended them, being tricked and manipulated by them, which made me think that there was no grooming. I was trying to defend my no longer friend. Now just thinking about how I didn't realize what grooming really was makes me nauseous. I wanted to help them because I thought that what they were saying was credible, I wanted to trust them. It turned out, however, that I had been defending the wrong person all this time. I feel sick and disgusting of it. They just made my trust issues grow stronger so much. If some friends hadn't reached out to me and convinced me that these actions were seriously wrong, I would have never realized it and been living a lie all the time, convincing myself that the lie was truth.
I want to seriously apologize with all my heart for everything I said, for all my lies, for all the stupid things I did, for just being in touch with Matcha. I don't wanna be like this. I never wanted to be like this. I just wanted to make friends, I always had problems making friends because of my fear and back then I finally felt wanted and appreciated. I just wanted to help, but it only led to a bigger disaster. I'm scared of Matcha. And most of all I seriously wanted to apologize to the victim of all this, who I will leave anonymous. If you're seeing this, you didn't deserve any of this. I don't expect any forgiveness, but I want you to know, all of you, that I seriously mean it, I want you to believe me that I'm really.. really sorry, for all the harm I've done helping them. I am no longer associated with Matcha since April and I made sure I blocked them on all social media I am on. In fact, I myself wanted to break off contact with Matcha since February because I was starting to feel uncomfortable in their company, but I didn't do it because I thought others would turn away from me, thinking that it would be a bad decision. Now I think I could've done it much earlier. Since then I'm not and won't be involved in any dramas anymore and I'll be less active in communities. These last few months it was really tragic for me because of this situation, I had panic attacks many times, I cried every day non-stop, I had four attempts... So far I am getting help, trying not to go back to it and be a better person. I really wanna change, I don't want to be in contact with people who may have a bad influence on me anymore. I'm still young, stupid, naive.. But I still have brains, I should be better than this.
I still have no idea if I'll ever come back here, it may be that I will come back but it may also be that I won't come back at all. My main goal was to say sorry for everything...
However, I am certain of my decision to never return to Twitter, it was a comfort place for me but after a while I realized that it's horrendous. Most of the people there are toxic heartless beings who hurt others.
I will understand if most people don't want to know me now, I don't blame them, quite the opposite, but those who still want to stay, thank you. Thank you so much. You are all important to me, at first I posted and did my art mainly for myself, but seeing how many people support me and love seeing my work, it only lifted my spirits and I did it for you too. I never felt like I would go this far... It was all thanks to you. I love you. And thank you for reading.
nomlio
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Firebrand x pheonix/immortal Reader
this one really cool phighting x reader ARTIST i like liked some of my posts i genuinely screamed, like i fucking shouted i was so happy that they thought my writings were good enough to like THREE of them dvsishksgdishsja
immediately after writing that i went to check twitter and saw aidn’s tweet, no spoilers but i have never an to my laptop faster and stimmed so hard.
anyways onto the actual thing you guys are here for, the x reader hcs!
- Cursed, you were cursed. That was the only way to see it, whatever curse your gear had given you made you miserable, it was cool the first few times, after dying you came back in a flame, rose from the ashes, but after centuries you were so tired and lonely, you got attached to mortals too much, attachment was futile, you’ll watch them pass on while you remain on the Inphinity
- You gave up on civilization, living in a remote cabin far away from any other demons, but every once in a while, wether that was months or years, you’d take a day trip out to the Inpherno, it could change so much between your visits or barely at all
- It was on one such trip where you were just walking around looking at what vendors had to offer, couples passing by, kids on their way to cause trouble that you heard something odd, a male voice saying your motto, attachment was futile, overcome with curiosity you followed the loud voice till you saw the source, you weren’t an idiot, if you lived in the Inpherno and didn’t know what the deities looked like that was idiotic, in front of you was not one but two of them, Firebrand and Icedagger
- The taller of the two was knelt down to be on the shorter’s level and was clearly comforting him, he was telling him that he needs to learn, mortals die and that he mustn’t get too attached, he would loose them eventually, but the snow god cried anyways
- You understood his pain, loosing so many people you had foolishly come to love, you were the likely only one besides for the swords that understood that pain, as far as you knew you were the only one with that curse, the curse of being the pheonix
- As you observed you accidentally stepped on something, a paper bag that crumbled and made noise alerting the two gods in their private interaction, they both instantly turned towards you as you raised your hands in show of not meaning any harm, you apologized for interrupting their conversation, but Firebrand had a strange look on his face, he said something to the affect of you felt different than other mortals, you had a deep sadness in your eyes, which like ouch, fair, but ouch
- You tentatively asked if he had heard the urban legends of a demon from centuries past given the name pheonix, he nodded and you revealed that that was you, an immortal mortal, he looked a bit skeptical but could also see the years and pain behind your eyes, similar to that of him and his siblings, Icedagger spoke up saying he didn’t know of the legends, you explained the stories people told of you, a demon cursed by their gear to forever walk the Inphinity, anytime you shall die you’re swallowed by the flames and emerge again anew, never allowed to pass on
- Icedagger asked if that meant you knew how he felt, the pain of becoming too attached to people you were destined to loose, watch grow old and fade away as you had so many times before, you said you did, you believed only you, him, and his siblings knew the feeling
- Firebrand spoke up asking if you’d want to accompany him for tea, he had heard the legends form mortals of you but never believed them, thought they were just stories the mortals told, you agreed and things spiraled from there
- Now you have someone you can love without fear of loosing them, and likewise, you knew the pain of loving someone who you would be helpless to save, and now that you had each other you and him wouldn’t have to experience it as bad as you had before, he thought it might have been fate, you’re reborn form the fire, his fire, it could not have been coincidence
- You loved each other wholeheartedly, knowing that you could till the end of time, even as others died and turned to dust, cities fell and crumbled, you would have each other, it was the most amazing thing you could have ever asked for, someone who understood your sadness but would never cause you that same sadness again, maybe, just maybe, your gear was a blessing, and not a curse
HOLY SHIT THAT WAS FAR MORE POETIC AND JUNK THAN I INTENDED, like holy shit i had a basic idea for what to do, then i’d do regular writings of like dates or whatever, instead i wrote that fucking masterpiece, it’s 1 am and i just channeled fucking william shakespeare i swear bros, anyways uh, thanks for reading ill either go to bed now or get one more request done, we shall see i have class tomorrow but i really like doing these requests so…
#x reader#phighting#phighting x reader#phighting!#firebrand phighting#phighting firebrand#firebrand x reader#phighting firebrand x reader#firebrand x reader phighting
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2. Protest: between the author's cynicism and the antagonist's emergence
Fujimoto once again tests you as a reader
Why? Because this chapter requires you to pay as much attention to the foreground as to the background
Yes, hello headache, but now I need you to follow me…….
First of all, I see it as cynicism. The only thing that would make me laugh is if I thought Fujimoto was teasing us.
How and why? Because the church in Chainsaw Man is us. Victims of CSM (who belong to the work), and young people, students who don't always have the right to vote, who come out of curiosity (the fans) fighting bloody battles against the communities.
Come on, Fujimoto follows the networks
Like his OS, but especially Just listen to the song, it's about the relationship between a work, its author and its audience.
I think Fujimoto relishes the debates and arguments on Twitter and other networks.
Fujimoto follows them as much as he suffers them, acclaimed by critics and his own, adored by his fans, he is also the target of threats and hatred.
Whether it's from those who hate his work or those who adore it but can't forgive him for making them suffer.
Fujimoto is as much a figure of protest as Chainsaw Man.
And he's there in the shadows like Denji
But it's not just a wink, and then we get more serious
The protest in the background is just as important as the foreground
Denji and Yoshida are shown as much as the crowd, with the cut-out swapping places between background and foreground. As if Fujimoto were placing them in the same position of importance.
Why ?
First of all, this chapter proves that NO, Yoshida is not up to the task of being the antagonist
who could be the antagonist then?
Where ? Who ? We're a bit confused... well yeah, it was easy to understand that Makima was the antagonist
Not only do we kind of forget that it wasn't that easy to know she was the antagonist, the revelation that she was a demon came very, very late, as did what she was really capable of doing
In CSM the real antagonist is present from the start, and then appears more clearly
Fujimoto likes to use this process to make his work chilling, to encourage you to reread while seeing the chapters take shape under a different light.
SO WHO'S THE ANTAGONIST?
Chainsaw man himself or, (confirming my theory again), Fake! ChainsawMan
To put it simply, since part 2, Fujimoto has shown that Chainsaw Man is controversial, both adored and feared.
This fear would naturally give rise to a Fake!Chainsaw Man demon, whose aim would be to increase its power by maximizing people's fear of Chainsaw Man.
Now let's take a step back. Nostradamus' prophecy is about to come true. Fami's goal is to prevent this apocalypse (for pizza). But this prophecy, as Yoshida knew about it and got in touch with Fami, shows that public safety is aware of the danger.
So why do we want Chainsaw Man to disappear? Would Public Security abandon humanity? Hardly imaginable.
I've given it some thought, and here's the plan as I imagine it.
An alliance has been formed between Fami and Public Security, to take control of Chainsaw Man. Not an absolute alliance, I imagine, but the two groups have common interests.
Both groups need a champion to face this apocalypse.
The fact is, Chainsaw Man is getting weaker.
Turning a demon into a hero who is close to humans means that part of the population no longer fears him, so his power falls proportionally.
Chainsaw Man can't face the apocalypse now.
The solution is to separate Chainsaw and Man. Literally.
When Yoshida invites Denji to live quietly, it's so that he can literally retire.
To make way for whom? Bingo. Fake!CSM
So why do they want CSM to disappear? Why so much emphasis on Haruka and the worship of Chainsaw Man's church?
Nothing creates greater fear than giving people a hero and then suddenly taking him away. We're back to another of CSM's key themes: necessary evil.
If, overnight, CSM no longer appeared to fight the demons, then the world would be in disarray. And fear would increase... giving power to the secretly chosen champion.
A champion... who only appears before dawn. At the very last moment.
The existence of Chainsaw Man leads to clashes, increased tensions and dissent.
His disappearance, meanwhile, will lead to a consensus: the despair of a humanity with no so-called protection.
Nostradamus' prophecy is not simply a prophecy announcing the apocalypse, but a plan that has been in front of us all along.
To be saved, humanity must descend into chaos.
If you want to better understand my theory about Fake!CSM :
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hi
i just wanted to come on here and talk about my experience with spirituality. warning: longggg post ahead.
basically ive been in the spiritual community for YEARS now. ive had existential crisis since the age of 11 and ive gone through many phases of many different spiritual trends. from law of attraction, to witchcraft, to religious devotion, to law of assumption and now finally non dualism. i read books, meditated for hours and hours, talked to spiritual ppl from all walks of life and watched all the episodes of ganga upanishad (a show i still highly recommend, you can watch on youtube). all this childhood trauma and mental illness made me crave for sweet relief. but nothing really made sense until law of assumption. i thought that that would be it yk. i thought i was done searching but i think that was when i was searching for things the most. i do know i have it in my 4d, when will i see it? i thought i would get all my desires but did not meet success. and then the non dualism trend began and i hopped onto it like pretty much everyone else. i was bewildered at the stuff teachers kept saying. what do you mean everything's an illusion? there's no way that's true. my very real surroundings are causing me VERY real pain and suffering. oh no no there must be a deeper meaning behind all this. and so i read all the books in 4dbarbies drive, but nothing clicked. yes it made sense intellectually, but i didnt want to believe it bc where is the materialisation satisfaction here? also i felt none of the euphoria that was supposed to come with self realisation. which means i must not be a realised being. and then i cried and cried and cried, isolated myself, literally stopped going to school and just lay in bed all day. but ofc, i continued to read the tumblr posts like i had been doing for the past several years. and yesterday i read 4dkelly's post about giving up. it made sense. by the time i had finished reading the post i had truly given up on everything. on wanting, hoping, fearing, striving etc etc. i was SO tired. so i gave up. fell asleep. i woke up really late as usual and missed the school bus. i ate breakfast in silence, switched the tv on and lied down on the couch like always. and like always out of compulsion and force of habit i reached for my phone and looked up non dualism on twitter. and then i came across a tweet that said a simple sentence only- "nothing is ever actually happening." woah. that kinda drove me to the edge of the cliff i desperately wanted to jump off. i turned on some dnb background music and turned the shower on. i stood under the boiling hot water like some dramatic bitch and started piecing together the "puzzle". it all made so much sense now. i got out of the shower and left the house for the first time in months with a cute outfit and makeup on and everything. i went to the mall, bought candles, stickers, eye masks, coffee, and a doughnut with absolutely no social anxiety at all. i sat by window, read some poetry on my e-reader, cried, peered down at the floor below me and cried some more at the sight of little kids sitting on santa's lap and taking pictures and marveled at all the christmas decorations around me. it was insane. i decided i was going to be neutral towards everything but im in love. maddeningly so. in love with this dream that i thought did not love me back. but love is all there is. I AM ALL THERE IS. and i need you to take this literally. there is nothing happening. there is nothing here except you. nothing to fear, nothing to desire. ik a lot of people are going to dismiss this post because it's not a "materialisation success story" but i honestly dont think i can ever want anything physically bc in all its true essence, what is there to materialise? i am already whole and complete. i am lying on this cold hard floor, but i have never felt warmer. also ik there may be a lot of things ive written you might not agree with but again, this is NOT REAL. I AM. i hope this post helps you.
thank you to all the blogs ive come across and all the pointers they have shared: @se1f @realisophie @itgomyway @4dkellysworld @4dbarbie-backup @infiniteko @iamthat-iam and many more i cannot thank enough.
lots and lots of love (more than you can ever imagine), and good luck.
#nondualism#consciousness#advaita vedanta#awareness#advaita#non duality#law of assumption#manifestation#manifesting#neville goddard
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Interesting thing to consider regarding our situation from Magdi Jacobs. She’s been fairly levelheaded so far about all this. The Pandemic really did change us all and how we perceive things.
The constant stressful vigilance we all needed during the pandemic is still in effect from that era, and that’s why there’s such a disconnect between what we see and feel as true:
https://x.com/magi_jay/status/1812531377184653581?s=46&t=9ilK5pqP73XDblTtTbb4Qg
I don't disagree with her, and I know for a fact she also agrees with what I have to say here:
Covid is part of it, maybe it is its own thing, maybe it super charged something that had been happening in slow-mo before
but I think algorithmic social media is breaking all our brains and Covid locked SO many of us inside with it for a year and a half or so where our only "human" contact was through social media and that was NOT helpful
There's lots of studies about social media and anxiety and depression, we know algorithms intentionally put stories/posts that upset you into your feed, we know that social media causes negative polarization.
speaking just of my own experience on twitter over the last two weeks it really challenges your sense of reality, twitter very quickly forms a group think about a current event and it becomes overwhelming, also it destroys any sense of time and prospective, so nothing is allowed to just be bad it has to be THE WORST THING EVER! and from the debate and now Trump's fist pump after getting shot at everything is NOW! the election is not 4 months away with all the events that will take over the news, people are voting just this second and only based on this news story rn! AAHHHH!!! !
by its short form nature twitter makes it feel as if people are having a conversation with you, but your ability to reply and question their statements is limited and I think that makes for extreme anxiety if the group think challenges your understanding of events/reality. So Joe Biden had a bad debate night, sounded bad, looked bad, he was a sick, jet lagged, overworked, old man and looked and sounded like all of that. Oh well, but the group think quickly shifted to "this is the worst thing ever, he clearly has dementia!" and you were bombarded by that over and over, in more and more shrill and condescending tones. And it became very stress inducing because people were seeing something you didn't see and insisting "don't believe your eyes and ears! believe my hot takes!" and you felt like you were losing your mind.
This is one current event but this happens on social media all the time, twitter is bad, TikTok is worse.
I also think for "younger" (under 40?) people raised on reality TV, and more so instagram, Facebook, now TikTok picture and video based social media there's a, life as reality TV show quality, an unspoken performance and need to make our lives seem perfect for an unseen (and not real) audience, and also to be seen as having the right views, but living in quick sand where liking or using anything could become a problem at any point and having to keep up endlessly. I also think this is intensely anxiety producing and also just debilitating, I don't think you can DO anything good in the world with that mindset
final thought: I've said for awhile I think why you see so many people declaring the economy is bad, regularly saying its historically, Great Depression levels bad, when it is in fact really good, as near to full employment as we've ever had lots of great economic indicators is left over Covid trauma.
We all went through a scary, sad, upsetting time in our lives. But because we ALL did if nothing happened to you particularly, you didn't get hospitalized, don't have long Covid, no one you're close with died and you couldn't be there for them, it might feel like "nothing" happened. So people are reaching for a "logical" reason for that edgy, sad, nervous, upset, unhappy feeling they can't get rid of. Normally that comes from economic anxiety, fear of not having enough money, or losing a job etc. So many people are reporting that they think the national economy is terrible while saying they think they themselves are doing well, that their local or state economy (that they see an interact with) is doing good, while the nation is doing bad, somehow. People are spending like they're doing well as well, never had it so good, never felt so bad.
I suspect its because we're all still dealing with Covid feelings, and thanks to social media, the death of common spaces, political radicalization, we never really came together and drew a line under Covid, it just kinda sputtered out and we slowly went back to our lives like nothing happened.
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i still feel everything when you are near - matty healy
matty healy x ex!reader
angst
warnings: exes, alcohol consumption, insecurities, jealousy (kinda?), pining, kissing, crying (lmk if there’s more i need to add!)
a/n: not sure about this. i think the last time i tried to write fanfiction i was 13, so feedback is appreciated but pls be nice lol. also, english is not my first language!
3570 words
it still hurts.
i didn't think it would hurt as much after 6 months, but seeing him in the flesh makes me realize it does. i thought i was already used to it, thought i was actually doing a good job moving on, if we ignore my slump in the first 3 weeks after the breakup, where i would just leave the house for work and groceries (that i would overbuy because i forgot i'd just cook for myself), i think i was doing pretty okay.
i should've guessed he would be in the city. he can't stay in one place for too long; if he has a few days free in between shows, he's going to look for a studio to work in. usually in london, los angeles, or here. most of the time, he ends up here.
but i never know where he is anymore.
i deleted twitter from my phone after 2 months. maybe because of the questions, perhaps because i didn't care, or maybe i was tired of reading all the tabloids and fearing they were true. maybe i care too much. whatever, right? it just means i haven't seen him in a while, even in pictures.
i'm sitting by the dark wooden bar counter when i first spot him. he's standing with charli and george in the vip section near the dj booth, surrounded by people as always. my friends noticed that he's here too, but they haven't said anything, which i'm grateful for. i'd rather pretend it doesn't affect me.
he looks different, though. his arms are bigger, and his hair is longer; soft curls fall over big brown eyes that crinkle whenever george says something funny. he still has that boyish smile.
lulu and bea went dancing and i said i'd join them in a minute. we go to this club every time we're in the city, but tonight it is more crowded than usual. my secluded spot at the bar being the only place i won't be pushed around. still, i feel bad. it's my best friend's birthday, and we came to new york together to celebrate, but instead, i'm drowning my sorrows with cosmos.
"you won't even say hi now?" i hear matty's voice from behind me and turn around, startled. he stands tall and confident as always, but his eyes no longer hold the same energy. here, up close, i can see that his eyebags look more prominent, and his stubble has grown slightly. he looks tired. i don't think i look any better.
"hi," i say, looking into his brown orbs, phlegmatic, as if the butterflies in my stomach aren't going batshit crazy right now "i didn't see you, sorry."
he grins cheekily, "it's alright, darling."
i don't really know what to say. he should hate me, honestly. it wouldn't be surprising considering how we left things, with all the yelling, name calling. with all the broken picture frames. it started with another rumor while he was on tour, another leaked picture. he was so dismissive and vague about it that i just couldn't find it in myself to trust him, and he could only complain about how childish all of it was.
i guess he doesn't, though. they have free drinks inside the vip section. i remember it from when we came here together. he doesn't need to come all the way to the bar for a drink.
"it-it's good to see you," i stutter, apprehensive now. fearing that maybe he really does hate me, and just walked over to tell me how much so. i mean, i would hate him, too, if i could. but no matter how hard i try, i can't. and believe me, i've tried.
matty is standing so close that the loud music sounds muffled now, and the warm, dim light of the bar reflecting on his silky skin makes me want to melt into his arms. so i try to keep my eyes focused on my feet.
he seems to notice that i'm struggling as i fidget with my empty glass.
"can i get you another one?" he asks amicably. my eyes shift from my feet to the glass in my hands and back to his eyes.
"sure," i reply shyly.
he asks a bartender polishing wine glasses next to us for another cosmopolitan. behind the man, shelves from the same material as the counter hold a collection of glass bottles of different colors with labels sporting french and italian names. matty sits on the barstool beside mine. "so…what are you doing here in new york? i thought you hated the city this time of the year."
and it's true, i hate new york during the summer. the concrete buildings seem to make the temperature much higher, and tourists crowd every corner. it feels claustrophobic. the subway also smells extra bad during these months. but i loved being here with him, no matter the season. i loved being anywhere with him.
"well, yeah. but it's lulu's birthday, and she wanted to celebrate it here, so here we are. the three of us."
"bea is here too?"
"she is, yeah."
him talking about my friends is familiar. many sunday evenings were spent on his couch sharing a bottle of red with my newest candle burning on the side. at the same time, i'd tell him about the most recent gossip in my friend group, and he would listen.
the barman places the new drink before me and takes the empty glass. i thank him and take a sip of the pink liquid. it's sweet and sour, and the vodka calms my nerves a little bit. he's staring at my lips. so i lick them clean.
he shifts, and suddenly, i feel his calloused fingertips brush against my elbow resting comfortably over the counter. much more tender than last time; my skin burns where he touches it.
"how's your writing going?" he asks, looking into my eyes now.
i tell him i'm still at the magazine, it's going alright. not a lot has changed since we broke up. but it's less exciting, more monotonous. i leave that part out. and he asks me about my own stuff, poems and essays hidden in my drafts.
it's just awkward small talk. so awkward. like we're just acquaintances. friends of friends being left alone, being civil to each other.
it's also a conversation we've had before. documents on my computer that weren't fitting enough for the editors or that i just wrote on a whim. he used to tell me to publish them either way, to leave the magazine and find people who actually appreciate my work, or to start my own thing. but it would be useless; they're not good enough.
"well, i don't know, it's been a while since i've written anything out of work." i take another sip, just to calm down a little. "haven't felt very inspired lately."
oh my god, shut up– i can't say this to my ex. it's embarrassing, pitiful.
"it happens." he takes my hand and brushes his thumb over my knuckles. i still shiver "you're really talented, love. you should be proud of yourself. i am."
even his praise hurts now; i miss hearing it daily. it's a stab in my chest, salt on the wound. so i just bite my lip and nod. afraid that if i say something, a choked sob will come out.
there's longing in his eyes, and he gets a look like he wants to say more. but his gaze flickers behind me for a moment, and he drops my hand and gives my left shoulder a squeeze, showing me a soft smile.
"i'll leave you be, then. it was nice seeing you, love."
there's a voice in the back of my head begging me to make him stay, but i know i can't do that, not when i recall why it ended the way it did. still, i want to reach for his hand and pull him back to me, just for a few minutes at least. but someone grips my shoulders.
"there you are!" lulu says excitedly, already a few drinks ahead of me. her dark blonde hair messy and her skin glimmering with sweat from all the dancing. bea follows right behind her. "c'mon, let's do some shots, you need to power up for all the dancing you owe me."
"alright." i force a giggle and down my drink as bea asks the bartender for three tequila shots.
a few minutes and many shots later, the three of us are on the dance floor, swaying wildly to the loud, thumping bass of whatever music the dj's playing. just being around my girls makes me feel less anxious, and the flashing lights, plus all the alcohol already flowing through my body are making my mind a bit hazy, which helps me let loose a little.
as i move, i can feel the beat of the music inside my chest, sweaty bodies pushing against me without a care. i even forget about matty for a minute. i don't think about how his hands used to feel on me when we danced together, not at all.
we dance for maybe 30 minutes. until lulu finds one of her many ex-flings, and, as they catch up, bea asks me to go to the bathroom with her. taking my hand, she leads me out of the crowded area and towards the door labeled "ladies' room".
the contrast from the mostly dark club to the bathroom's white walls makes my eyes squint. it's colder in here, quieter. i can hear the stifled bass from the music and high heels clicking against the floor tiles.
as i wait for bea, i brace myself on the sink in front of me and look into the mirror. everything is happening too fast. talking to matty, downing shots, and being dragged to the dance floor immediately. my head is pounding. i didn't have the time to process what is going on tonight.
my ears are ringing, and it feels like all the alcohol has suddenly lost all its effect. instantly sobering up, i grab a paper towel and dab it on my arms and face to try to get rid of the sweat. turning on the sink, i wet my hands and place them on the back of my neck to cool down and try to help with the dizziness. i hear the toilet flush, and bea comes out of the cubicle, running her hands through her wavy black hair. i reach into my purse and pull out my lipgloss, coating my lips evenly while looking at myself in the mirror.
"i'm going to the back for a bit," i tell bea as she approaches the sink next to me.
"you okay? do you need water?" she asks, concerned
"yea- yes, i just need to breathe a little."
"okay, text me if you need anything." i just nod and leave the bathroom. she knows me, knows i need to be alone.
pushing through crowded bodies, i head to the club's back door, leading to a narrow alleyway where the employees usually store extra liquor bottles. it also doubles as a smoking area, so i shouldn't be surprised when i see him as soon as i open the door. tattooed arms flexing as he lights a cigarette, probably not his first one of the night, and i turn back to try to leave before he sees me.
"leaving so soon?" i turn around again and already feel my cheeks heating up. embarrassed, like a kid caught eating dessert before dinner. "you can stay."
"it's okay, i'll go somewhere else," i wave him off mindlessly. he came here to enjoy his cig on his own, right? he doesn't need his ex-girlfriend plaguing his chill alone time "i don't want to bother you, i just need some air."
"please stay." it's not the first time he says this, but this time i do.
with pink-tinged cheeks and heels clicking loudly, i slowly walk down the three small steps in front of the door and move to stand across him with my back resting against the club's brick wall. the warm summer air hits my skin, and i can hear the rustle of the traffic. "you could never bother me." i pretend i didn't hear him.
"i thought you were quitting," i motion to the burning cigarette between his fingers. the moonlight illuminated the alleyway, making the smoke around him look like some kind of silver aura. he smiles at me.
"i'm trying," he says, taking a drag and blowing it out by the side of his mouth, and i laugh.
"it sure looks like it," i reply, still smiling. i'm not as nervous as i expected i would be in this situation; maybe the alcohol hasn't worn off as much as i thought.
he shrugs, running a hand through his hair. "well, you know me".
my eyes follow his every movement, long, calloused fingers holding the rolled paper limply and bringing it up to his red, pouty lips. i start to fidget with the end of my skirt, trying to distract myself by looking at how my fingers twist the fabric. busying myself, so i don't remember how those same lips used to feel against my own or on the curve between my neck and shoulder.
i look up again when i hear matty step on his cigarette– putting it out– and he starts to walk in my direction. my breath hitches. we are face to face now, noses almost touching. closer than we were at the bar. i can see every freckle on his face when he's this close. i can see the chapped corner of his mouth and the grey that's starting to show up on his now tousled hair.
"why did you leave?" he's straight to the point. his voice comes out low, almost a whisper. at our position, there's no need to be louder than that. there's no hatred in his tone; still, he's not smiling. a flash of hurt appears on his face for a moment. "didn't i make you happy?"
"of course you did, matty." i build the courage to look into his eyes, honey pouring out of them. "we've already talked about this."
he lifts his right hand to rest it on the wall beside my head while letting out a scoff. "but i don't get it," his tone is a little bit louder now. he's not aggressive, but he's not whispering anymore. "what happened?"
"it was for the best." i've stopped whispering too. i place my hands on my forehead. as if to avert the impending headache that will follow this conversation. i don't really know what happened either or when it started happening. i feel sweat droplets running down my hairline, not sure if it's from the summer heat, our closeness, or my disquietude.
"for the best of who?" he questions, lifting an eyebrow, "i don't feel any better!"
"we were fighting all the time, you know this!" there's a lump in my throat, and i can already feel the pressure between my eyes, working hard so the tears don't fall. i lower my voice again. "it was only a matter of time until one of us left, i just left first."
his gaze softens– probably after seeing my flooding waterline– and it's a while before he talks again, as if he's gathering his thoughts. thinking before he speaks for once, "i could never leave you" it's a low, gravely whisper, and i probably wouldn't have heard it if we weren't this close. "i wish you'd stayed."
it's a blow to my chest. like a gunshot, blood running down my ribcage. and for a second, i don't think i can breathe.
"i wish you'd done a lot of things, matty." my vision is blurry now, and i feel a single tear roll down my right cheek. i wish he would answer my calls when he stayed late at the studio. i wish he would listen to me when i said i felt neglected. i wish he would give me more security when i felt jealous of the girls partying with him and the boys while i was on the other side of the pond. i wish i stayed. when i can't sleep because i suddenly realize that my bed is too cold, too empty. when i wake up, and there are no kisses on my bare shoulder. when i have to climb over my kitchen counter to reach the can of pasta sauce on the top shelf. when i'm so anxious, and there's no one to hold me… "sometimes i wish i stayed too."
slowly, his hands cup my jaw. long fingers run lightly across my skin and wipe the lonely tear on my face. the hairs on my neck straighten up, and my heart stirs, beating a little faster. he carefully traces his right thumb over my lower lip, giving me time to reject and push him away. and then, his soft lips lock on mine. no warning. i feel his stubble rub against my chin and let out a sigh. there's a flutter on my lower stomach, burning. i should have pushed him away. instead, my fingers trail up his neck, nails brushing against his skin, and finally into his hair as he coaxes his hot tongue into my mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, of course. i can also taste the rum and lime from the mojito he had earlier. one of his hands travels down and he pulls me by the waist, bodies touching fully now. matty groans into my liquored mouth and i preen; it's good to know i still have that effect on him. that i can still make him let out those pretty sounds with just a kiss. it might be selfish, but we both are. because i bet he's proud too, that every touch of his still sends shivers down my spine. i pull out for air first, lungs already starting to burn. my fingers are still buried in his curls as he rests his forehead on mine, both breathing heavily.
"i need you, love," he whispers against my kiss-swollen lips, voice cracking. there's a smudge of lipgloss on the side of his mouth. it was no use reapplying it.
"matty, i can't," my voice comes out weak, just like how i feel.
"why not? you got somebody?" matty frowns, starting to sound a bit agitated.
i shake my head lightly "i don't."
"what is it?"
"i already told you" it's my turn to cup his face now, scuff prickling against my palms. "we already had this fight before, you get annoyed because i can't trust you, and i start yelling because you don't take me seriously!"
"of course i take you seriously!" he defends, already becoming increasingly exasperated. i just shake my head; there's no use going through this all over again. it hurt enough the first time. however, i still close my eyes, knowing that if i keep looking at him, the chances of me believing him are higher.
"i'm not built for this, matty," for being away from him, for time zones and phone calls, for pretty girls throwing themselves all over him "i'm not strong enough."
"look at me, baby." his hands moved from my waist up to cup my face again, thumb brushing lightly over my cheekbones. "please," i open my eyes.
"do you love me?" he asks. i realize his eyes are glossed over now "because i love you. so fucking much."
it will be easier if i say no, break his heart all at once. give him a reason to give up. it takes me a while, but i nod.
"yeah?" there's a glimmer of hope on his wet iris.
"i do, but-"
"then we'll figure it out" it's not that simple; just figuring it out is not enough. we hurt each other.
"we'll just end up in the same place, matty," i explain firmly. at this point, tears stream both of our faces. his chest heaves, and i try to contain another sob. he turns his face slightly to press his lips to my palm, just for a second.
"stay with me, please." our noses touch, and i can no longer distinguish his tears from mine. "i'll do better, i swear."
"it's not going to work."
"just for tonight at least, please," it comes out ragged, and he grazes his lips on mine, leaving a gentle but salty peck. "just for a little bit."
this shouldn't be happening. it's a mess, all of it. no matter how hard or how many times we try, even if we start all over again, we'll just end up in the same place. i know how i am and how he is. our love is tainted, a ticking bomb. so no matter how much i love him, how much i want him, i know we'll just go back to those screaming matches and broken pictures.
but if we keep doing this again and again, maybe then we won't have to say goodbye. at least i won't have to spend an entire lifetime missing him. so maybe just one night won't hurt, right? i've done it a million times. staying for just a little bit won't hurt…i think.
okay, just for a little bit.
#matty healy x reader#matty healy angst#the 1975#matty healy fanfiction#matty healy fic#matty x reader#the 1975 fanfic
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