#unreliability

[writing2changetheworld]

This screenshot was taken just now.

I'm tired of talking about Smosh having auto-generated captions, but I'm not going to stay silent. So let's address what else this means.

Inconsistency. Unreliability.

Smosh adds (maybe) correct captions anywhere from immediately to days after posting. I have no idea if I'll be able watch a video.

This instability is not okay, Smosh.

[ultraweathercoremax]

Oh, what’s up fam. Hope y’all weren’t counting on this blog for your daily pic of uninterrupted cloud cover - only got a few wispy pink clouds this morning

[meplusself]

pov: the experienced of being let down by a friend

In the unpredictable rollercoaster of life, there are few blows as disheartening as the experience of being let down by a friend. It's like navigating a maze, thinking you've found a reliable companion to guide you through the twists and turns, only to realize they've left you stranded at a dead end.

Picture this: the sun is shining, birds are chirping, and life is humming along as usual. You and your friend have shared laughter, secrets, and countless memories. There's an unspoken pact of loyalty, an understanding that no matter what, you've got each other's backs. But then, out of the blue, the script flips, and the trust you once took for granted crumbles like a sandcastle swept away by the tide.

The initial sting is a blend of disbelief and disappointment, a bitter cocktail that leaves a lump in your throat. You replay the events leading up to this moment, desperately searching for a clue, a sign that could have warned you of the impending betrayal. It's like sifting through the ashes of a burned friendship, trying to salvage something meaningful.

What makes it all the more bewildering is the contrast between past camaraderie and present betrayal. It's as if you were handed a script for a feel-good movie, only for it to take a dark and unexpected turn. You find yourself questioning the authenticity of every shared moment, wondering if the laughter was genuine or merely a façade.

There's a certain vulnerability in friendship, a willingness to expose your true self to someone you consider a kindred spirit. When that vulnerability is met with betrayal, it's akin to having your soul laid bare and then trampled upon. The disappointment is a heavy cloak that wraps around you, making every step feel like an uphill battle.

In the aftermath, you're left grappling with a whirlwind of emotions. Anger simmers beneath the surface, a fiery reminder of the breach of trust. Hurt, like a persistent ache, lingers in the corners of your heart. And woven through it all is a thread of sadness, mourning the loss of a connection you once held dear.

Yet, amidst the wreckage of shattered trust, there's an opportunity for growth. It's a harsh lesson in the impermanence of relationships and the fallibility of human bonds. As you pick up the pieces, you may discover a newfound strength, an ability to stand tall in the face of disappointment.

Life, with all its unpredictability, teaches us that people are flawed, including ourselves. It's a reminder to approach friendships with a blend of optimism and caution, understanding that while some companions may falter, others may surprise you with unwavering support. The experience of being let down by a friend is a chapter in the book of life, a chapter that, with time, fades into the background, making space for new connections and the resilience to weather whatever storms may come your way.

[raffaellopalandri]

Book of the Day -

Today’s Book of the Day is The 7 deadly sins of Psychology, written by Chris Chambers in 2017 and published by Princeton University Press. Chris Chambers is a professor of cognitive neuroscience in the School of Psychology at Cardiff University and a contributor to the Guardian science blog network.  His research focuses on how the human brain supports cognition and he is also interested in the…

[tentacleteapot]

your unreliable narrator fucking bit me

[batcavescolony]

Katniss is such an unreliable narrator. She says "Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me" girl you deliver strawberries to the Mayor, you hunt and trade for the district, when you fell at Prim being chosen someone caught you, when you went to Prim people parted for you, when you volunteered EVERYONE stopped. Idk how to tell you but I think you're a pillar of the community.

[starzovermarz]

stupid

[orange-sora]

Mr. Impassive Aloof Poker face

Mr. Definitely into Girls

[yunisverse]

it had no choice

it needed to blast its cache

[you-askedforthis]

I think Katniss plays down her own beauty.

She tells us she takes after her father and Prim takes after their mother (who was once quite beautiful).

You can’t convince me Katniss isn’t the pretty version of her dad. She has the seam look but she absolutely inherited her mother's beauty.

During his interview in THG Peeta says something along the lines of "a lot of guys at school like her" and that could have been a lie but it also might not be. Katniss wouldn't know but Peeta whose been in the boy's locker room would know.

She often attributes looking beautiful to Cinna and her prep team but they’re stylists not wizards.

Katniss bffr you don't got two boys chasing after you because you're plain looking.

[wordybee]

My summary of The Murderbot Diaries so far, three books in:

Murderbot: I can’t believe I have to keep these humans from getting themselves killed. Everywhere I go, there are humans who need protecting and this cuts into really valuable media consumption time. This is so annoying.

Everything in the universe, including Murderbot’s own presumably unprecedented free will: You could just not protect the humans.

Murderbot: … No.

(And it’s great.)

[the-neil-jos10]

There are three kinds of AFTG narrators: unreliable, unavailable, and unabashed:

Neil is an unreliable narrator. He tells us plenty about his past and his surroundings, but his view of things is often altered by how he perceives the world, which is not always accurate. It means that, while we may understand Neil, we often don’t have a correct view of what’s happening around him at all times.

Jeremy is an unavailable narrator. He doesn’t tell his friends or himself/the reader the truth about very important things, which doesn’t make him unreliable, but does mean we get far less personal information than with Neil. Jeremy can tell us accurate information about the world around him, but he withholds important things about himself, making him emotionally unavailable as a narrator.

Jean is an unabashed narrator. He’s just trauma dumping on everyone everywhere lol there’s no way we don’t know what’s going on with him or the world around him.

I love them all.

[joejhang]

obsessed with how neil and jeremy are both unreliable narrators but in vastly different ways. neil gives the reader all of the information he considers important and quite literally nothing else. so you get play-by-play recounts of exy games, gruesomely detailed descriptions of his trauma, live-commentated accounts of his conversations with andrew but you have no idea what his real name is. or what he looks like. or what any of the characters look like, for that matter. most of his narration is literally just internal monologue and like 20% of it is actually what's going on in real time. jeremy, on the other hand, only gives the reader unimportant information. hell, not even unimportant just blatantly obvious. it's like you're just standing right next to him as the events are happening cos you have no fucking clue what's going on in his head. he'll comment on jean's good looks, team relationship dynamics, give exact replays of conversations, tell it like it is except you have no idea like the context of any of it. like he recounts his conversation with his sister word-for-word and you still have no idea what any of it means cos he just says that she tells him he ruined her family and then doesn't bother to elaborate at all. iconic behaviour.

[sunniethunder]

lil jinshi and maomao doodle while i listened to the new spiritbox album!!!!!

[eggsplice]

cant help but think of everytime i failed you

[pythonmoth]

cw: post torture trauma. depersonalization. denial. sick jokes as a coping mechanism.

× framed traitor f!reader x lt ghost. poly tf141.

Part 3

Numb. And cold.

The light in the room is cold and white, devoid of any type of warmth.

Laying flat on the bed, you're barely blinking, your expression is detached, and unreadable.

Your body got so used to the torture that every time a medic moves too fast, you mentally brace yourself for a hit or for another toenail to be ripped off, not moving a muscle.

You've three toenails left, after all. Another three chances of pain.

Perhaps they could cut your fingers off, instead. Or your ears.

That'd be new.

Your eyes are fixed on the light bulb above your head, dimly aware of the medics moving around you as if you were in a simulation game. You hear them curse under their breath, sharing looks, and throwing worried glances at you.

At times, it feels like you're watching yourself on that table. You're the light bulb.

It needs fixing.

The medics have already tended to your feet and toes, your fingers, and deep down you can't help but find it hilarious that, despite the drugs they gave you for the pain, your raw fingers throb bad enough for you to remember it perfectly.

You will never forget the pain.

Or perhaps you've already forgotten.

Images of Si Ghost, a hidden smirk behind the mask, ripping your nails off and showing them to you before throwing them to the side, laughing at you with Soap, and Price, fill your mind. Your past screams break through the image, your fingers twitching briefly.

Is it a memory?

You grimace inwardly.

You're not sure.

Perhaps it is. Or not.

As you're held up by two medics and put to sleep on another bed, drugged out of your mind, you stop worrying about it.

You're mistaken. Surely. Must be.

There's no way it was actually Simon; you're just going crazy. He will come and tuck you to bed as he always does. He'll bring Johnny tomorrow and the three of you will have some of the cookies Johnny keeps hidden in his room, safe from the Captain and the rest, the hungry lot. And they'll have the beer Simon bought the other day. And then Simon will give you a goodnight kiss.

There's no way.

Must be a mistake. Your mind is playing tricks.

Disdain. Laughter. Curses.

"Traitor".

No matter how hard you fight it, your eyes fall shut. With a soft sigh, you smile, amused at yourself. The blanket is soft against your cheeks, your mind spinning happily as exhaustion takes over.

You're mistaken.

"The pinky is next. You're still not giving me names".

You will just sleep it off.

"Please, give me their names. Please".

Nightmares.

As you wake up in cold sweat, hastily standing up from the bed, you put pressure on your cut feet with no care, and it makes you let out a sharp cry. Shocked to your core, you fall down on your knees, screaming in pain again when your hands brace your fall, making the raw skin of your fingertips stretch and burn.

You're suddenly aware of your injuries.

Memories rush to your mind. And they're real.

They're very real.

When the door springs open and you see Si Ghost rushing over to you, his eyes tormented behind the mask, you ignore the pain in your body and quickly crawl back, dragging yourself away from him, not hiding the fear in your expression.

You can't hide it, even if you wanted to.

"No, wait. Please. Please. You're okay" he says, lowering himself to the ground in a heartbeat, his knees touching the cold floor, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible.

You don't realize you're crying until you taste it in your lips and, even then, you don't even dare breathing. You're not blinking, staring at Ghost in complete silence.

Funny. Crying will forever remind you of it.

"Please, you're safe. You're okay" he assures you, his voice rough and shaky. Ghost shifts forward slowly, but the tension in your shoulders makes him pause.

"I won't touch you. I promise" Ghost murmurs, keeping his hands on his thighs, in full display. "W-we were tricked. A mole planted evidence against you, but we found him a few days ago when we brought you here. I'm so—"

You burst out laughing.

"You're sorry" you crackle. "You're sorry".

"I won't give you any excuses. Price told me he was certain, and I— I had to do my job. Please—"

"Stay away from me".

"Please. I didn't want to do it. I'm so sorry" he pleads, his hands flat against the ground. "I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Johnny and I. You won't forgive us and we know this. Lovie, please".

Your laughter turns into sobs the longer he speaks. Lovie. It sounds so ridiculous right now that even if you're terrified of him you wish you had the strength to strangle him.

Alas, the lack of fingernails makes it difficult.

You press yourself against the bed, unable to stand up, unable to look at Ghost as he stares at you. You can just shake your head, your shoulders never relaxing, your entire body coiled with pain and grief.

Ghost moves slowly as he takes his mask off, leaving it on the floor in front of him. His eyes are downcast, his blonde hair messy and you can see he's been barely eating, however long you've been here.

He looks like shit.

Perhaps, if this was a few days ago, you'd be making a silly joke so he doesn't feel so vulnerable. You would've kissed him and played with his blonde eyelashes until he rolled his eyes, and playfully smacked your hand away.

Now, mask or no mask, you don't know this man.

taglist: @euphoricn @lilg101010 @enfppuff @carolchaotic

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Masterlist | Part 4

buy me a coffee

styling decisions bc this reader is traumatized as hell. and no, no forgiving.

it'll stay for a bit. you'll be noticing the change in reader's emotions through it!