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hunnylagoon · 4 months

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Right Where You Left Me

Pt 4: The Sweetest Thing to Ever Scare You (Finale)

Ellie Williams x reader

I remember when I first saw you. I remember looking into your warm almond eyes and feeling butterflies in my stomach. But soon, when I looked into your eyes, I no longer felt the same warmth that I once knew. It felt as though you had killed all of the butterflies inside my stomach but yet, I still loved you.

Premise: You and Ellie are childhood best friends until you drift apart. Funny thing about soulmates is they tend to find their way back to each other. You and Ellie try to end the tireless war between you.

Warnings: Angst / drinking / violence / not really religious mentions in this one

Part one here!

Part two here!

Part three over here!

Guys I thought I posted this two days ago but I actually just saved it to drafts. Sorry for being an idiot lmao

I think that I have unlearned how to love.

That’s not even a word but there is no other way to tell you that I have turned myself cold.

Without partying to distract me and religion to fill in gaps of emptiness, I isolate myself and begin to write once again. I'm almost certain that my body has been telling me to write, that I need to pour myself into art as opposed to a girl I was friends with a million years ago.

I figure that I need to create rather than destroy but it might take me a while to do so.

The morning after I abandoned my faith on the church floor, I had woken up and expected Ellie to be gone, however, she was wide awake and playing subway surfers on her phone. Her hair is messy and her eyes are half-lidded.

She turns to look at me when she feels the shuffling of the bedsheets; despite her doing nothing more than smile at me it is like an understanding passed between us, war is over.

Almost.

It's like I've forgotten how to be soft, I can't manage to get the words out that I need to, and the thought of it alone makes me cringe. "Breakfast?" I ask, unsure of what else to say.

Ellie passes on it and I awkwardly excuse myself, saying that I got called in to take a brunch shift at work. Of course, this is not true. What I do is get into my car and drive and drive until I get mad at myself for burning gas.

The war between Ellie and I had ended but it didn't register in my head, I almost fell in love with it. Without the constant arguing and passive aggressiveness, there was nothing to put a wall between us and I wasn't ready to be vulnerable again.

So I begin to feed Ellie the ugliest parts of me; I show her everything I'm sure she will hate but she doesn't, she's patient and shows me the kindness I have been looking everywhere for. Still, I am cold to her, I don't know what else to do.

I try to push her away all over again but this time, she doesn't let me. Ellie comes into my room when I'm studying to sit on my bed so that she can be in proximity to me. Sometimes she'll ask me if I want to go for a walk or a late-night gas station run, all of the things we used to do.

When I'm angry at her, she lets it happen, she won't escalate the fight all she does is apologize and does what she can to fix it. Everything feels like it's in order again, Joel even starts to send me little text messages to check in on me and sends me Facebook memes that make him think of me.

As of now, we are setting up for Dina's twenty-first birthday. The living room, typically a space for casual gatherings and movie nights, had undergone a transformation. Vibrant streamers adorned the walls, and an array of balloons in assorted hues scattered themselves along the floor "Are balloons too childish?" Abby asks as she walks out of her bedroom.

"They better not be after I just spent half an hour doing all of these," Cat answers, giving her a scornful glare.

"They look great, Cat," I smile and give her a thumbs-up from where I am in the kitchen dumping bags of chips into bowls. "Should I make a veggie platter?"

Cat furrows her eyebrows "If you can finish it by yourself, sure."

"Cat, we aren't children, adults eat vegetables," Abby takes a seat on the couch behind Cat, investigating the hard work she's put into making the living room look nice for just one night "Isn't it weird that Dina is organizing her own surprise party?"

I shrug, placing a wooden cutting board down on the kitchen counter "I don't blame her, I don't think we've always been one hundred percent reliable, me specifically."

"But it's not a surprise if she knows about it."

"So?" Cat asks.

"So why are we calling it a surprise party if it isn't a surprise?"

"Why not?"

"Well, why can't we just call it a party?"

"I don't think it matters," I cut in, I begin to peel carrots and slice them up into quarters. Ellie comes out of her bedroom, she took a nap after completing her physics presentation, her hair in a messy bun, and she's in her typical pyjama uniform of sweats and a hoodie. "Hey, Ellie," I smile at her.

She rubs some sleep away from her green eyes "Hey," Ellie walks over to the kitchen island where I slice and chop vegetables and sits right in front of me. Even half asleep she looks like a statue of marble carved by a skilled hand.

Abby raises an eyebrow, asking 'When did you guys become friends?' without saying it and then it hits me like the plane in Lost. Ellie still hasn't told anyone about our history, our sixteen years of friendship is invisible to the eyes of those who think they know us well.

I'm broken from my thoughts when Abby speaks up "When are you picking up the cake?"

My heart drops "I'm not?"

Cat and Abby cast one another side glances while Ellie snatches a cucumber off my cutting board "Dina was handing out duties and you said you would take care of the cake."

I freeze, unsure of what to say "Nuh-uh." I shake my head like a child denying blame for breaking her mother's favourite dish.

"Yuh-huh," Cat shoots back. "How could you forget that?"

My mind fumbles for an excuse and somehow I land on "I forgot because I went temporarily insane from Lyme disease," What am I saying? "I got Lyme disease because I go camping in secret," I don't camp "And I never told you guys that I go camping because I'm deeply ashamed of it."

Now everyone looks perpetually confused, Ellie included "What are you talking about?" Abby asks, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay-well," I place my knife flat on the counter by the wooden cutting board, ignoring the odd spiel I just went on "I'm going to drive to-

"You dropped your car off for a suspension repair yesterday," Abby reminds me.

"Ellie is going to drive me to get a cake," I correct myself "I will be back to finish making my veggie plate." I quickly rinse my hands before grabbing Ellie's keys from the little jewelry dish on the island and yank the sleeve of her hoodie to pull her along.

Ellie doesn't say anything, she slips into some Crocs and we walk outside to her car. "Where are we headed?"

"Uh, hang on," In Ellie's passenger seat, I go on Google Maps to look up the closest bakeries that are still open at this hour, there are two, one a couple of streets away and the other one is across town and closing in twenty minutes. "Infectious Confections," I wrinkle my nose "That's a weird fucking name."

While Ellie tries to make conversation in the car I only speak when giving her directions to the bakery. She knows something is up and I can tell by the way she keeps glancing at me. I just can't manage to get it out of my head that she's still keeping me a secret.

She pulls up to the bakery and I get out before she even turns her car off, she pulls the keys out of the ignition and trails behind me through the doors.

The bakery itself was rustic and clean, there were two display cases and tills one of the displays held danishes, croissants, cookies, scones and whatever those little swirly flakey things are called. The other display had a big chalk menu above it that read 'Cakery' Though what was in the display case was very sparse.

"Hi," I walk up to the till, putting on the friendly smile and customer service voice that I usually only use at work. "This is pretty short notice but I was wondering if you had any cakes left or if I could get one made for today?"

The guy behind the counter is a scrawny teenager who looks like he has had a long enough day of dealing with annoying customers "We close in half an hour, there's not enough time to bake and decorate a cake." He explains it like he's said this to a million people, he's bored of the same phrases that his manager has scripted out for him.

"Any shot that someone didn't pick up their cake?" I ask, fingers crossed in the hope that he says yes.

"Let me talk to my manager," His voice drags on, and he turns around and disappears through a commercial kitchen door. I wait patiently, hands balled together in front of me as I rock back and forth on my heels. A minute or two later he comes back holding a bright blue cake with pink detailing of bows and mustaches, there's text on it that reads 'It's a...' gender reveal cake. "This is all we have left, they cancelled last minute.

I look back at Ellie to get her opinion, her eyebrows are furrowed slightly "Maybe we good just get some of those cupcakes and smush them together and smear the icing so it looks like a cake."

I wave her off "I'll buy it," I say this only because it is 5:41 and with each passing minute I am growing desperate, also I don't want Jesse to be disappointed that I fumbled the cake and ruined his girlfriend's birthday.

Angsty teenager puts the bright blue monstrosity into a cake box and charges me an absurd total for it, I bitterly tap my card on the machine.

As I walk back out to Ellie's car I take a brief moment to look at the sky, it's the same hue as cotton candy and looks as if it had been projected from a watercolour painting, even after I get back into the car and Ellie begins to blast her old dad rock songs, I can't tear my eyes away from it.

After five minutes of silence from my end, Ellie finally asks the question that's been burning into the forefront of her brain "Why are you being weird?"

"Why haven't you told anyone that we met before we moved in together?"

Her dark eyebrows furrow "You haven't told anyone either-

"Yes, I have."

"Who?"

"Yara, Stacy, Kayla, Mitch, Nigel, Carmen, literally everyone from my work," I admit "I just haven't told people who know you personally so it can't make its way back to you because you clearly don't want people to know."

She falls silent, searching her mind for the right words. She clutches the steering wheel tight and looks dead ahead at the car's bumper-to-bumper ahead of us. "I just know how to slip it into conversation."

"I don't think it's that hard, you can just say that we were friends, you don't need to give an intricate play-by-play of everything that happened."

"Why is it important that people know if we're cool again?"

I turn my head to slowly look at her "You are the one who always said 'If we don't have honesty, we have nothing at all'," I point out.

Silence strings between us again, I almost want to throw up.

'We're cool again' Nope, not anymore, we are so very far from cool. Instead of Ellie casting me little glances as she had on the ride there, she ignores my presence almost completely while I glare daggers at her. Was she embarrassed by me? When we went to lunch together why did she lie to Dina about where she was? When she slept in my bed why did Cat ask me if I knew why Ellie came home at eight AM with nothing, not even a key? Did she crawl through my bedroom window to walk around to the front door and pretend she was just getting home?

AND WHY DIDN'T I CALL HER OUT?

She was keeping me a secret and that realization hurt worse than any injury I had ever suffered. She hasn't even told her dead who practically raised me that we lived together.

God, we weren't even anything and she was keeping me under wraps like I was some disgraceful secret that she would get shamed for holding. The very second she approached our house, I got out of her car, she hadn't even stopped it completely but cake in hand, I hopped out of her car door and didn't look back.

I think I've had my fair share of partying.

After that month-long bender I had where I went to clubs every night and replaced food with vodka, I never wanted to even look at another solo cup full of liquor. Instead of drinking, smoking, or doing karaoke, I hide from Ellie.

I hide from her in conversations and sometimes sneak into my bedroom just to get a bit of breathing room from all of the strangers in my house. Wherever Ellie was, I was not. If she was outside, I was inside, if she was in the living room, I was in the kitchen enjoying my veggie platter.

Have you ever been the only sober person around in a group of people? If the answer is no, have you ever babysat a houseful of toddlers? Because it's just about the same thing.

When I'm not hiding from the girl who wriggled her way back into my good graces just to trip herself off the podium, I'm cleaning up, protecting our furniture, holding back hair as girls I've never met sob into the toilet, and stopping the drunk from doing stupid things.

"Hey, buddy," I take my can of hairspray that this frat-adjacent man is holding behind an ignited lighter "I don't think you would look good as a burn victim," His friends moan in disappointment as I do so, they were very excited to see a makeshift flamethrower; I wasn't in the mood to have my house burn down, or have a guy with peach fuzz waste my thirty dollar hair spray.

Thirty dollars?

Note to self for later: Make smarter spending choices (And smarter relationship choices!).

I felt a tap on my shoulder only to turn around and see Dina, she wasn't drunk, just tipsy "Smile!" She holds up a camera to her eye and clicks the shudder button before I even have a chance to react the flash goes off. A large Polaroid begins to print out, Dina snatches it and shakes it until you can see my silhouette, my eyes are wide, my hair flying behind me from the quick turn of my head and I'm holding a can of hairspray angled to look like I'm going to spray the camera with it "Cute!" She smiles, tucking it into her pocket for later "Wait, I want a group picture of the roommates."

Dina takes my hand and pulls me to one of the couches where Ellie and Abby sit with some guy, she shoes him to get up and drags Cat over to replace him, she stands me in between Ellie and Abby and lightly pushes me down to sit wedged between the two.

"Jesse, please do not do me dirty with this picture," She hands the pink Polaroid camera to her boyfriend and quickly ushers herself to the far left of the couch where she bends over to kiss Cat on the cheek for the picture. Ellie and I are stiff and awkward when the flash goes off.

After the picture is taken, Ellue turns to face me just the slightest "Hey, I think we should talk-

"I think it's time for cake!" I push myself off the couch and usher myself to the kitchen.

I pull the cake out of the fridge, looking at what I had done to salvage it; Below the part that said 'It's a...' I wrote '21 year old!' in chocolate pre-made Betty Crocker icing that I had in the fridge for months, it didn't look the best, but it could've been worse.

Dina, of course, cackles when she sees it. To her, it is the funniest thing she's seen all night. I stick the candles in and light it with the light I confiscated from peach fuzz frat boy and push the cake towards Dina after tucking the light back into my pocket, she is illuminated in the glow of iPhone flash all filming her.

"Make a wish!"

Age Sixteen- Grade 11

I think back to how embarrassing it felt to be thoughtful.

How fragile I felt when I would share my feelings and how frail I seem when I do it now. Ellie was always tougher than I was, in rugby, in fights, just in general. That's why I figured she would be taking it better than me when I cut contact, once again I have been proven wrong.

"Conner, can we please just leave?" I pleaded with my then-boyfriend. The night had started fine but after a couple of drinks Ellie and I were becoming increasingly hostile to one another, it wasn't my intention to speak to her but the universe forced my hand when we were shoved into a circle of our friends and made to converse around the bonfire at the beach.

The salty breeze carried the sounds of laughter and the gentle crashing of waves, the scent of roasted marshmallows wafted through the air.

"What, you need your boyfriend's permission or something?" Ellie held a can of berry blast Smirnoff, staring into my soul from the other side of the fire, the sparks glitter through the night like fireflies. Her words don't feel too bad but they don't feel too good either.

I cast her a glare before I looked back to my boyfriend "Please?"

He is getting perpetually annoyed with me he shrugs away from my grasp, "Fuck off, we just got here," He mutters, Conner must think I couldn't hear it. He had already downed three Bud lights and a couple of shots of cheap vodka, now he is nursing another beer in hand.

"Excuse me?" I say, narrowing my eyes. Everyone around the fire pauses their conversation to tune into mine. "Come on," I stand up and try to pull him along so we can have a conversation away from the prying eyes of our friends.

I can't pull the mass of the 6'2 quarterback along with me but he obliges and follows me where I yank him. As I drag him along the rest of the group giggle and makes jokes along the lines of 'Trouble in paradise' but Ellie is the only one who doesn't jump back into mindless conversation, her unnerving eyes are still on me while I chew my boyfriend out by the shoreline.

"Why do I have to leave just because you're feeling a little bummed out?"

I'm almost floored at out someone can lack so much empathy "Because you're my boyfriend?" I can feel myself tensing up.

"Why does that mean you can't get up and leave on your own?" He defends "You begged me to come here and now I just wanna down a couple of beers and hang out with my friends."

"You've already drank like twenty!" I retort.

"It's a fucking party!" Conner says, raising his voice "It's a party and it's summer and you're seriously trying to tell me not to have fun?"

"Fuck!" I shout in frustration "Why don't you ever call me? Why can't you ever let me in?" The argument is quickly escalating "Why didn't you tell me that you kissed Tamar and why haven't you told me that you love me?"

"Because I don't."

My words fail me. I knew he didn't, I knew that he hardly even liked me. My dad had thought so highly of him, she said he was the type of guy to rescue a baby from a burning building but as I look at him now, I figure that he eats babies.

I almost open my mouth to say something different, almost, but I don't. The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I didn't, I might've been able to salvage the rotting corpse of my relationship with Ellie but I didn't. "Fine," I say, voice calm and quiet "Let's stay."

Before that night I had never really gotten drunk but the second I got back to the bonfire, I was digging through the cooler and shotgunning canned Smirnoff. "Woah," Riley laughs "Someone's finally being a bad influence."

I got myself so shit-faced that when everyone else got up to dance to the music blaring through the Bluetooth speaker, I sat by myself at the shoreline, looking bitterly out towards to ocean while the tides crash at my feet and get sucked back into the ocean. For a moment I think about jumping in and letting my lax body get washed away and sink beneath the surface until I wash up as a water-bloated corpse that some nine-year-old will find when they're beach combing.

My mouth tastes like peroxide and blood, my lungs burn with a red-hot pain. The wind is becoming increasingly harsh and I ignore the hair that is tangled into my golden hoop earrings.

"Wow, you look awful," I don't need to turn around to know who it is.

"Can you just fuck off?" I say "I don't give a shit about you, just leave me alone."

She always had to antagonize me, Ellie went out of her way to stray from the group and bother me. It had something to do with the alcohol in her system. Despite her alleged hatred for me, she takes a seat next to me regardless.

"Fuck, you're so sensitive," She scoffs "I don't know why you're dating him, I'm not even sure why you'd want to fuck him unless you're too lazy to jerk off-

My hands think before my head and I deck Ellie right in the side of her face, getting a solid hit to her cheekbone. My hand flies over my mouth "I'm sorry, I-

Ellie doesn't waste any time in lunging back at me, she pushes me down by my shoulders until my back is in the shallow of the water that moments ago just splashed at my feet and takes a swing. The impact of her punch almost knocks me sober.

I take a sharp inhale, grabbing her elbows and pulling her down to where she was the one on her back and I was the one straddling her. I land one last blow to her nose, I hear a crunch and the panic immediately sends me scrambling to my feet. My eyes go wide at the blood dripping down, her face I turn to run but Ellie is faster, she grabs me by my hair and yanks me down further into the water with her.

"Fucking cunt!" I cry, though my scream is drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud tides crashing on the shore "Get the fuck off me!"

Ellie is better at fighting than I am, I had never been on this side of her before, usually, I had been the one to drag her away from fights but now I am the one who is going to stumble home numb from the devastating pain.

Frankly, I'm fucking scared.

She continues to drag me by my hair until I'm knee-deep in the water with her, she almost throws her entire weight into me, dunking me beneath the surface where her bony hands snake around my neck. My eyes have gone blurry with the salt water, they sting and burn. I can't see anything, all I can do is uselessly thrash beneath her. My hands push against her face, trying to pry her off my body.

Eventually, I manage to claw her face with my fingernails, I dig deep enough that it breaks skin and she recoils just enough for me to knee her in the stomach and let me get out from under her. Just as I try to slip away she reaches for my hair again, but instead of tugging on my hair, she rips out my gold hoop earring. I screech out in agony, hand reaching for where the metal sliced through the lobe of my ear, I shudder in pain; my cries are now jagged and harsh.

This is the exact moment Ellie begins to regret what she's done. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to." Her tone softens and she tries to approach me but I back away from her like a frightened dog.

"Get away from me!" Despite the pain surging in my body, I find the strength in me to hit her again, she staggers back tripping into the water. I hit her so hard that I feel a crack in my knuckle and I yelp out in the immediate shock of pain.

I wasn't sure when the others had noticed this was happening probably because my vision had gone blurry from salt water and adrenaline but before Ellie could hit me again, she was being restrained by Riley and Kennedy while some guy who I had probably had two conversations with dragged my back to shore.

I keel over on my hands and knees and begin to start retching onto the sand. Laila rubs a gentle hand on my back, my hair sticking wet on my forehead. A seagull, disturbed by the commotion, took flight, its wings cutting through the charged air.

Next to the pile of vomit I just heaved, blood drips down from my ear, pooling and then soaking into the sand. My neck swells from what is still the raw sensation of Ellie closing her hands around it.

I look up at Ellie, there is blood that has dripped its way into her mouth, clinging to her white teeth. She has what almost looks like a cat scratch running down her cheek, blood begins to prick and spill from the lacerations.

She stares back at me and we don't say a word but we understand each other clearly, I never want to see you again.

"Let's go," Ellie grabs my arm as Dina begins to slice the cake "We're gonna fix this right now."

"Ellie, there are so many people here," I say in a hushed tone so people can't hear me.

"I don't mean here," She looks at me, face expressionless "Just get in my car."

"Excuse me?" I say, tone accusing "Did you just order me to get in your car?"

"Fuck," She sighs, dropping my wrist to rub her hands down her face "Please can you get in my car so we can work this through."

"There's nothing to work through," I retort "You're embarrassed by me or you still secretly hate me and that's fine, I meant what I said on winter break about the lease, the second it's up, I'm getting the fuck out of here."

"What? No, don't- just," She takes a breath, reevaluating what to say "I have a point to make but I can't make it unless you get in my car."

We stare at each other for a moment, I narrow my eyes and she is still unmoving. Every scenario runs through my head of what could be waiting for me in that car.

"Fine."

I sit silently in her passenger seat, my knees are pulled into my chest and I rest my chin on them. Ellie doesn't say anything either as she drives. I watch each traffic light pass me, every street name to try and make sense of where we are going.

I almost feel like I'm going to suffocate beneath the silence of everything going left unsaid.

When I spot the boardwalk up ahead, I know exactly where she's taking me "Ellie, why are we at the beach?" I give her a side glance "Do I need to take out my earrings?"

Heat rises to her cheeks when I say this, "Not yet," She jokes, getting out of her car and grabbing a tote bag from the back seat, and I follow in tow.

We walk past the boardwalk and onto the sandy beach, I'm already not feeling whatever she's doing; there is sand filling up my Converse and a slight wind chill, I'm really wishing I had a hoodie right now. "Can you tell me what we're doing yet?" I'm hugging myself in an attempt to stay warm "If we're still walking on the beach why couldn't we have just walked on the boardwalk instead? It literally has walk in the name." I'm already going off on one of my tangents.

She still walking ahead of me but she briefly turns around to face me "Can you just stop asking questions for a minute?"

"Okay, whatever," I mutter, trailing behind her still. I can hardly see in the night, the only light to guide us is the moon and the warm ceiling lamps from restaurants along the boardwalk. I can vaguely see Ellie's silhouette, she's outlined by the gentle glow radiating off the moon, I try my best not to stumble over things poking out of the sand that have been lost to sight by darkness.

"Okay," Ellie stops, "Here we are."

"Where are we?" I ask "I can't see shit, I don't know where here is."

Ellie digs around in her pocket for her phone and turns on a flashlight and it reveals a small iron firepit that was cemented into a slab of concrete in the sand. She hands me her phone so I can keep the flash on her and she can see what she's doing.

She pulls out some pages ripped out from her notebook "Can you hand me your lighter?"

My eyebrows furrowed, and I felt around in my pocket wondering if I even had one. I did, it had slipped my mind that I still had the bic lighter that I confiscated from Peach Fuzz. I hand the lighter to her and watch as she tucks the pages beneath logs that were in the firepit before we arrive, they are somewhat charred but still viable.

She flicks the lighter to ignite it and the paper catches immediately. The initial flicker grew into a tentative blaze, licking at the edges of the kindling. The crackling sound echoed through the night.

Once she is sure the fire can survive without her feeding it, she steps away. "Alright, let's have it out."

"Like sex?" I scrunch up my nose.

"Oh my god, no, like let's talk this through." She pinches her nose bridge, taking a breath in before exhaling and putting her hand back down "We're gonna recreate the night of the bonfire how it should've been," Ellie reached back into her bag and pulled out two white claws "I snagged these from Dina's party, sorry this was kind of last minute."

I can't help the smile that grows on my face, I take one of the white claws and crack it open "I don't know how authentic this is gonna be if there isn't any canned Smirnoff."

I think back to exactly how that night played out and I take a seat on the sand, facing the crashing dark ocean. I sip my white claw, as expected Ellie takes a seat next to me, just what happened on the actual night.

"Wow," She says "You look really pretty and I'm an idiot for ever saying you looked awful," Ellie looks gorgeous illuminated by the orange light of the fire, and the breeze causes her flyaway hairs to drift in the wind. "I'm an asshole for pretending that I didn't know you, I was scared I would get hurt again and take it to heart like I did last time. I promise the second we get home that I'll come clean."

I don't know if I can deal with this sugary philosophy. She's being so sweet that it's rotting my teeth.

"Ellie," I say gathering my thoughts, it was so hard being honest with my feelings, it felt like I would get hospitalized if I showed any emotion. "I was so in love with you in high school that it killed me, and I was terrified that my parents would throw me out well, they did- but that's why I pushed you away and there isn't a day that goes by where I don't regret it."

The surprise on her face morphs into a soft smile "What about now?" she asks "Do you still love me?"

I shrug, it's honest "I dunno, but I think there's room to try."

She looks from me to the ocean and the way the moonlight glitters off the surface "What happened next?" Ellie toys with the tab of her drink "Did you hit me?"

"Yeah," I say softly, following her gaze out to the waters "But if we're doing the night how it should've been, I'd rather just kiss you."

Ellie turns her head back to look at me. She shoves her white claw into the sand then takes my face into one of her hands and kisses me like it's her job, so tender and carefully like she's afraid I will break beneath pressure.

How weak have I become? My heart is so full of her that I can hardly call it my own.

A/N: Be grateful for this ending because I was very tempted to give you guys an unhappy one. Sorry that I forgot to post this lol, I’m sad this series is over but excited to show you all my next one which may be the angst-iest yet 👀

Thanks for reading!

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mariacallous · 9 months

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The problem with judging people for their sins is that the internet makes it exceedingly easy to invent sins. In February, Buzzfeed News reported on a man filmed by a passing TikTokker, who then uploaded the footage with text suggesting he’d lied to her to get out of a date. That was false—he’d never met her—but it didn’t stop people from ridiculing him as the video racked up over a million views.

Similarly, last year, an Australian woman objected to being made the star of a stunt in which a TikTokker asked her to hold a bouquet, strolled off, and then congratulated himself on performing a random act of kindness. Sixty million hits later, his viewers were praising him for brightening the day of a woman they judged to be old, lonely, and sad. But she objected to that characterization and declared the whole affair “dehumanizing.” She hadn’t asked to have her day interrupted, let alone be thrust into a global spotlight.

And then there are those incapable of even grasping the situation. In 2022, a TikTok channel was called out for surreptitiously filming the homeless with drones. Loved ones with dementia are put on TikTok to be infantilized or have their worst moments gawked at. Parents transform their children into viral stars. Sometimes, those children grow up and call them out for warping their youth.

When people tell us it was harrowing and wrong to be unwillingly cast into the spotlight, we nod and agree. But those responsible typically offer only half-hearted apologies or remain unrepentant, while their millions of views discourage reflection. Often, moral scolding is implicit in the video and explicit in the comments: It is wrong to be homeless. It is gross to be ill. It is pathetic to be unhappy.

To be sure, crass and hateful public figures are worthy of ridicule. And we’ve been using the internet to judge strangers for as long as we’ve had the internet. But the common trait shared by much of the most obnoxious content today is that someone chose to elevate a stranger for no reason beyond their own gratification, attracting attention at a scale unimaginable in the days of relics like Hot or Not and People of Wal-Mart.

At best, these are misguided attempts to juice the poster’s social media presence. At worst, they are pointless cruelty. That cruelty can be addictive, but we can and must resist the urge to gawk at strangers against their will. It should, in fact, be considered rude, insulting, and wrong to have uploaded a stranger against their will. We would not go out into the streets and stir up a mob against a random person. Why are we so comfortable with doing it online?

Much of what we post online is innocent and will remain so. The average Facebook user has 338 friends, while the average number of Instagram followers, according to one estimate, is just 150. You likely use these platforms to follow celebrities and brands, and to interact with friends and family. These are, for most users, insular communities. Vacation photos with friends or a family portrait at Christmas are unlikely to attract trolls and creeps, and even if they do, they are clearly posted in good faith.

But some platforms, like TikTok and Twitter, are more exposed to the vagaries and cruelties of the wider world. Anything you post on them can wind up in the feed of people who don't follow you. Therefore, anyone can become the day’s punching bag. Does your relative really understand what could happen if you put your interaction with them on TikTok?

Maybe you know better than to post Grandpa on Twitter without thinking it through. We know whether our friends and family like attention and whether they understand social media ecosystems, and with this knowledge we are capable of making informed decisions as to whether and on what platforms we should post them. We do not have the same knowledge of strangers. That can be a reason to not post them, but it can also be an excuse to post them without thinking.

If it came out that an influencer uploaded an interaction with a stranger to a private Facebook page or Discord server solely so their closest friends and family could pick them apart, it would rightly be considered misanthropic. And yet uploading a stranger so millions can mock and over-analyze them is just the business of content. That business needs to change.

It’s exceedingly unlikely we’ll ever eliminate jackassery from the internet, but a social media mishap involving a friend or family member can be resolved with communication.

It is harder for a complete stranger to succeed in that endeavor, especially when “Look at this weirdo I found, please gape at them” is the text or subtext of so many videos and posts by accounts that thrive on content starring the unwilling. Such content must become anathema. Particular thought must be taken before posting an interaction with a stranger, and the consent of a stranger to be posted at all is necessary to retain an internet that is even remotely civil. If someone does post a stranger without their consent, they should be shunned, not rewarded with the attention they crave.

The vast majority of disputes with unruly neighbors are solved by talking to them. Ideally, the law only gets involved when lines of communication break down. The same can be true of digital disputes.

We have privacy laws. If I were to post your name, address, and phone number, you would have legal recourse. And yet the same is not true for your image. Today, at least, you surrender your right to privacy by stepping into public. But outdated privacy laws are catching up to the abuses of government and tech, and the issues raised by social media virality could be next.

Still, a blanket law against posting strangers without their consent would be draconian and unworkable. There are too many variables, too many circumstances, and simply too many cases. However, whole generations who have been online since birth—sometimes unwillingly—could grow up to be more sensitive to the downsides of posting without permission, prompting a normative shift.

More specific laws are already evolving to handle some scenarios raised by nonconsensual virality, specifically as it applies to children. Irina Raicu of Santa Clara University’s Internet Ethics Program points out that a recent French law entitles child influencers to demand that platforms scrub all trace of them once they turn 16. The YouTube career their parents create for them—or force on them—need not be what defines them as adults. The United States is considering a similar law; a woman who testified to a House committee said the details of her first period were turned into content.

Another law being considered in France would make parents responsible for their children’s privacy rights. Le Monde cites, as an example of fame-seeking behavior that France is hoping to discourage, TikTokkers scaring their children by pretending to call the police on them, and an Instagrammer who smeared chocolate on her 4-year-old and convinced them they were covered in feces. We will eventually wonder how parents were able to get away with this at all.

So those who cannot consent are starting to be protected. But what about those who could consent, but don’t? And what if, as some unwillingly viral subjects have found, reaching out and asking for posts to be removed is met with silence or rejection?

In reality we already practice social media consent; it is not unusual to ask a friend if they’re alright with having a picture posted to Instagram, even though the face they make as they try to cram an unusually large sandwich into their mouth is not a flattering one. And yet we continually fail to extend this courtesy to strangers, either because we think nothing of it or because it is our job to go viral at all costs.

Some of this, as Raicu points out, can be blamed on the platforms we use, which encourage hair triggers. “There are ways in which the design choices behind many websites make it harder for all of us to think about consent,” Raicu wrote in an email. She points to the sheer ease of posting and the fact that norms around social media consent have not solidified. But she notes that platforms could “introduce some friction” in the form of, essentially, reminders that other people are human before you hit Post.

Future platforms could work to curtail shaming, either out of moral compulsion or legal necessity. Much as you can report harassment to social media platforms, posts that have elevated you to infamy against your will should be fair targets.

Lines have been drawn before. YouTube banned dangerous pranks and challenges after people were hurt and complaints mounted. TikTok is trying to tweak its algorithm in response to growing concerns that young users are awash in content encouraging suicide and incel ideology. Content made from those unable or unwilling to consent is a broad category that cannot be wiped out with algorithmic tweaks, but the damage is still happening, and we have the power to collectively declare that some forms of content are unacceptable and must no longer be tolerated.

Perhaps, given the increasing universality of social media usage—83 percent of Gen Z uses TikTok—platform-embedded tools could establish consent. Before posting a video of someone, an influencer could ask their username and send them a simple, stock contract granting them permission to post. Again, this need not apply to every random photo of friends. It could be optional, or it might apply only when an account reaches a certain threshold of followers. But a lack of permission could give a user cause when they cite unwanted virality and negative attention when asking for a post to be removed.

But most of the work will fall to people. It's difficult enough to remember that the man being a bit rude in the grocery store line is a fallible human being with hopes and dreams; it can be almost impossible to remind yourself of that when viewing a contextless clip of someone halfway across the hemisphere. The internet is capable of connecting us to tremendous numbers of people, even as it makes us forget that they are human like us.

An influencer comfortable with filming themselves for thousands of viewers should be comfortable with approaching a stranger and saying, “Would you mind appearing in a video I’m making? I’m going to post it on this platform, and I have this many followers. Take a minute to check me out.” Some already do, and surely there are people who would be happy to receive a free bouquet in exchange for appearing in a TikTokker’s silly stunt. But a no should be taken as a no, just as it should in any other scenario involving consent.

It’s all too easy to skip this step today. People who speak out when they feel harmed by what an influencer did with their image receive only a tiny fraction of the attention that the original posts featuring them got. But when an influencer is repeatedly called out for exploiting strangers—or when their exploitation is obvious, such as when they prey on the homeless—they should be frozen out of the social media ecosystem, not rewarded with attention and profit.

In the future, how will we be able to see such casual cruelty as anything but unethical? Maybe stories of regret are a sign of what’s to come. Brianna Wu, one of the victims of GamerGate, says she has fielded over 100 apologies, often from people who were at their lowest and saw her as an easy outlet for their emotions. But we generally don’t take our frustrations out on people on the street; understanding that people deserve to be protected from unsolicited online fame and malice is the next logical step.

We no longer parade people through villages on a cart or lock them in pillories in the town square to shame them, as was done in centuries past. We did not stop enforcing laws and norms, but we recognized that humiliation and ostracization are harsh, counterproductive tools. Eventually, we will make that realization about the strangers we parade across the internet.

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theunbearableweightofpedropascal · 8 months

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Angel

Summary: Coming home from college without a degree has you scrambling to find your place in the world. Charlie just might be your savior.

A/N: I was thinking this would be set around eclipse. This was in the drafts for a while.

Warnings: Besides an age gap (reader in her 20s Charlie in his 40s) there is none.

Word Count: 3.1K

You didn’t expect your life to turn out the way it did, and neither did the people of Forks. If the confused looks you would get on the way into town were anything to go by. You had been a stellar student, assignments were early if not on time, and teachers never had a bad thing to say about you. You graduated and moved on to college like everyone would expect, but college was harder. It wasn’t even the work, it was you.

For once you had no set path, everyone else just seemed to know what they wanted to do. After 2 years you realized how far behind you felt you decided to take a break. If you didn’t know what you wanted to do you were just wasting time and money. The loneliness set in soon after too. Although you have friends they’re all off doing their things, making their place in the world.

Your dad helped if only by sending cringe Facebook posts captioned “It’s never too late.” His efforts were much appreciated but it’s not a good feeling when you feel like you are in last place for a race you didn’t even know you were running. Staying holed up in your room won’t help but at least you won’t have to run into anyone you know. You hate feeling like such a disappointment even though your parents assured you that would never be the case.

After a few weeks of licking your wounds, you started looking for jobs. You reach downtown and begin combing through your options. All of which would require you to run into people who would ask too many questions that you do not want to answer. Forks was already limited in what they had and if you wanted to avoid working for the Newton family your choices were much more slim. But you do take note of it just in case. Syphering through your selections you almost want to give up.

Turning the corner you bump smack into another person, you brace yourself for a fall that doesn’t come. Peeking through one eye you make out a badge and ‘C. Swan’. You immediately straighten yourself up after realizing you just bumped into Chief Swan.

“You alright-”

“I’m so sorry-”

The both of you speak at the same time, a loud silence fills the air as you both stare at each other. Your wide eyes and his furrowed brow. You snap out of it first and bend down to pick up your fallen pamphlets, The Chief crouches down to help you.

“You don’t have to do that Chief Swan.” He ignores you in favor of picking up the rest, stealing a glance at them before handing them back to you.

“Charlie’s fine.” He scratches his head before telling you, “Since you’re looking we could use another receptionist down at the station.” Charlie took pity on you, Although he isn’t one for gossip everyone’s been talking about how you came back from university without finishing. He knows what it feels like to be lost especially in a town like Forks.

“Really?” The prospect of working at the station was much better than any option sitting in your hands. “Is there anything for me to fill out?”

“No just stop by on Monday and I’ll have Helen walk you through everything.” His mouth forms into what you think is a half-smile, and you return it tenfold.

The conversation with Charlie was so refreshing you’re unsure why out of all the people in Forks he was the one to make you feel normal. You realize it’s because he’s the first person to not question or probe why you’re back here. Working at the station doing administration would be perfect. On your way home you mentally comb through your closet for appropriate clothes you can wear to the station for work. The combination list isn’t huge but you could make it work.

……..

Monday morning you awake at 6:00 am to begin getting ready, he never mentioned a time but you imagine how bad you would look strolling in there at 1:00 pm. You decide on black stretchy office pants, a chocolate sweater, and white sneakers that are comfortable enough to do sustainable walking. Grabbing your backpack you pack your essentials and bid your father goodbye before heading off.

On the way in you have enough time to stop for some coffee so you order for yourself and Charlie as a thank you. You make sure to get his black with no sugar, though you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover you can’t imagine he enjoys cremer. The last stretch of your walk toward the station has your heart pounding. You're not even sure what you are nervous about it shouldn’t be that hard since it’s Forks.

The station smells like stale coffee and mothballs, the atmosphere is mostly static but that’s given. Upon walking up to the front desk you see an older redhead who you assume is Helen. You smile as you approach her and she returns one.

“Excuse me, Chief Swan said to come up here for you to train me on administration stuff.” You hope Charlie actually talked to her.

“Of course, he told me about you yesterday dear follow me.” You set down your coffee before being given the grand tour. After a minute you’re back at the front being directed on your daily duties. Most of which is pretending to look busy, Helen prefers solitaire on her computer to get her through the day. On the other hand, you brought a book that remains hidden behind the ancient monitor in front of you.

You thought about bringing Charlie his coffee but his office lights are off and his doors are locked so he must be out patrolling already. Within 45 minutes you’re given your first task of making more coffee, while the water pours out you see Charlie step into the break room. His eyes look surprised to see you but his face doesn't change, he peers around you toward the coffee maker before he can ask you to tell him.

“I bought you coffee on the way in, it is at the front desk.” You quickly leave the break room to get it before he can react. On your way back you inform him, “Black, no sugar, no cream.”

“Thank you.” As he takes the cup your hands brush his, and he can feel the increased beating of his heart. It’s the most contact he’s had with a woman. He likes it. Your bright smile gives him that butterfly feeling he hears Bella talk about with her friend.

“No thank you, Sher- Charlie I appreciate the opportunity.” He waves off your thanks as if he does stuff like this all the time.

“You adjusting OK?” He finds he wants to keep conversation with you despite his nature. You may be surprised but you don’t show it, enjoying this interaction.

“Yes, Helen is nice and I get to just pretend to work all day.” You bump your hip against him before you can think better of it.

Charlie surprises you with a deep chuckle, It’s not a full-blown laugh but it’s more than enough. It’s no secret that Charlie is one of the more attractive men in Forks, but you didn’t think of him like that until now. Not many men could pull off the 70s pornstache, or his grumpy attitude without being a complete ass. Your thoughts are interrupted by Charlie leaning down to speak quietly to you.

“Well let me know if you need more books to keep you busy Bella’s got tons of those romance ones.” He rolls his eyes playfully and nods his head before heading to his office.

In the wake of his leave, you revel in the way his deep voice felt so close to your ear. However, you don’t dwell on his actions too much because there is no way he was flirting with you. Making your way back to the front desk you see Helen packing up to leave, she informs you she’s taking lunch.

Charlie lets out an exasperated sigh at the stack of paperwork waiting for him when he unlocks his office. The coffee you brought him goes straight down like a shot, he appreciates the fact that you knew he wouldn’t like the extra bullshit. Throughout his shift, he sneaks peeks at you. He pauses when he sees you talking on the phone, telling himself he’s only checking to make sure you don’t need help. But the way your lips move has him in a trance, he snaps out of it before you can catch him.

Even though he spent a fair amount of time staring at you he managed to complete over half of his paperwork. He’s overdue for a break and he knows you could use one since you never took a lunch.

You have been manning the phones even after Helen came back, you know you should’ve taken your 1-hour lunch but you were in a groove. At least until Charlie strolled up beside you to see what you were doing. You could smell Irish Spring wafting off of him with a hint of laundry detergent.

“You busy?” It was a loaded question on his part but he didn't want to just command you to come with him.

“Not for the Chief.” You turn your body towards him to prove your words, and in return the corner of his mouth lifts almost like a smile.

“Lunch on me then?” He asks you with his hands balled in his pockets.

“I’ll never turn down a free lunch.” You turn to Helen to check that she’ll be okay, and she gives you a wink nodding her head toward the chief telling you to ‘have fun’. You raise our eyebrows at the implication.

On the way out Charlie gets the door, and his veiny forearm peeks out from his uniform. You wouldn’t say you have a thing for hairy guys but yet again Charlie somehow makes it work. Luckily you could blame the frigid breeze for your flustered expression. You follow his lead to the cruiser and he opens your door for you again. Your bashful expression after thanking him goes straight to his lower stomach, it’s been a while since a woman looked at him so fervently.

Once he’s in the cruiser a comfortable silence fills the air, and you think of all the things you could bring up with him later in the diner. So far all you’ve come up with are sports and books but honestly, that should be more than enough for Charlie. Orange leaves take up most of the ground, a warning for the upcoming months. The diner is the same as always when you pull up, you open the door before Charlie can hustle his way to where you are. The stern look he gives you only makes your sudden attraction to him worse.

The bell above the door alerts Cora to your presence. Charlie saddles up right behind you urging you forward with his hand on your middle back. Walking past the patrons, you can feel the questioning stares. But you’re sure Charlie won’t pay them any mind so neither do you. At the booth, Charlie gestures for you to slide in first.

Cora turns to you for your order since she already knows Charlie’s by heart.

“I’ll do a burger and fries with a sprite please.” You smile at Cora as she takes down your order.

“So,” You turn to Charlie, “What’s been going on in the sports world?”

Charlie’s side glance is enough to make you laugh. “Steelers are cleaning up, they have a path to the Super Bowl.” He didn’t mean to look at you crazy but it was the first time in a while someone was genuinely interested in his interests. The flutters in his stomach make another appearance.

“My dad’s a cowboy fan so it’s the same thing every year.” Charlie snorts at that.

The sound of plates landing in front of you ends your and Charlie’s moment. Looking up your eyes meet Cora’s and you thank her before she leaves again. You and Charlie waste no time digging into your food. With all of your fries and most of your burger gone you throw in the towel, leaning back against the booth.

“You gonna eat that?” Charlie eyes the rest of your burger.

“No, you can have it.” After your acceptance, he finishes it in one quick bite. You wish you didn't find that attractive.

……….

After your first lunch together many were shared, Charlie would always schedule his break around yours to make sure you ate. He also wanted to spend time with you when the opportunity would lend itself. The feeling was mutual, you put in more effort with your work outfits and make-up. Every morning you would stop to get Charlie coffee on the way in, and Helen would always give you sly smiles. You figured she picked up on the undertones of your and Charlie’s interactions, but unlike most people, she kept it to herself.

That didn’t stop others from probing you about your “Diner Dates” with the Chief. When you were collecting produce a few older women came up to you under the guise of concern. They told you getting with a man that age wouldn’t be good for any girl your age, while it was good advice you know it wasn’t given with good intentions. Instead, you pretend to not know what they are talking about effectively outing their ill-informed gossip. Charlie also hadn’t shown any initiative to ask you out on an actual date so you’re unsure where the fuel is coming from.

The next day at work you decide to pull back seeing as the entire town somehow thinks you both are dating. You took your lunch before Helen, the words of the older ladies on replay in your head. Sure it was the wrong messenger but it was the right message you don’t know what you were thinking.

It didn’t last a day, Charlie came by the desk deliberately when Helen took her lunch.

“Hey there’s some discrepancies with the evidence log of Riley’s stuff, can you help me sort through it.” Though he posed it as a question he began to walk toward his office immediately.

Once you’re in the office he shuts the door behind you before he moves to stand in front of his desk.

“I just uh wanted to check that everything was alright,” He clears his throat before continuing, “That you feel comfortable or if there’s something I’ve done.” After he finishes your face morphs to shock.

“No of course not, I just know there’s been some gossip around town about us dating and figured I’d have lunch by myself.” Charlie’s eyebrows furrow at your admission.

“I haven’t heard anything did someone say something to you?” His voice drops at the thought of anyone badgering you about this.

“It’s not a big deal, and I didn’t want you to feel uncomfo-” He cuts you off with a deadpan stare.

“Why would I be uncomfortable with people thinking a woman out of my league is dating me?” His definitive words leave you stunned. “It is a big deal, do you remember who it was?”

“No it’s fine Charlie really,” You try to convince him.

“It’s not if means you don’t go to lunch with me.” He gripes.

“I didn’t realize you enjoyed my company that much.” You stare at him until he returns your gaze.

“Well I do.” He assures you.

The both of you stand in front of each other in silence, the smile grows bigger on your face at Charlie’s confession.

“Does this mean you want to go on a date with me?” You inch your way closer to him, gently tugging his tie.

“Of course I do, I was working my way up to it.” He swallows hard when he feels you get even closer to him.

“Yeah?” Your eyes never stray from his as your smile widens. Charlie’s eyes fall to your lips just as quickly as he looks away. You grab his hands placing them on your waist before bringing your lips to his ear. “How about now?”

Charlie’s hands firmly grip your waist when he feels your warm breath tickle his ear. His pants grow tighter when your perfume invades his nostrils. When you reer back to look at him he wastes no time planting his lips on yours. His mustache tickles underneath your nose but you respond back with the same fervor. You tilt your head to the side to deepen the kiss, Charlie groans at your eagerness.

Your hands slide up his chest and wrap around his neck to play with the hair on the back of his neck. When his tongue licks your bottom lip you eagerly open your mouth to him, pressing your chest against his. Charlie lets his hands dip to cup your ass through the jeans you’re wearing, earning himself a pretty moan from you. The way his tongue licks into your mouth gives you ideas of what else he would be good at.

But all good things come to an end, and a knock at the door sends you two flying apart. You immediately focus on fixing yourself so it doesn’t look like you were in a make-out session with your boss. A folder catches your eye and you pick it up hoping to look busy. Helen peeks her head in to let Charlie know Bella is getting dropped off by Edward. Charlie’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the mention of his daughter’s boyfriend, you can’t stop the giggle that pours out of you.

Helen slips back out and Charlie walks over to the far corner you’ve placed yourself in. “It’s a little backward now but would you let me take you out on a proper date?”

“I’ll have to check my schedule.” You smile up at him knowing he knows you’re joking.

“How does Saturday at 7 sound?” He bends down to your ear before continuing, “I know a nice Italian place in Port Angeles.” When he pulls back he is glad to see the bashful expression on your face. He’s still got it.

“It sounds great Charlie.” You get on your tip toes to peck him on the cheek before exiting his office.

On the way to your desk, you see Edward and Bella sitting in the waiting chairs talking. As you sit down you see Bella’s head snap in your direction, her and Edward's conversation halting. You pretend to do work as usual until Charlie comes out to greet Bella and grunt in Ed’s direction.

#charlie swan #charlie swan x reader #twilight fic #charlie swan x female reader #twilight

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bioethicists · 1 year

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hm i really hope that someone has said this better than me but the betterhelp ads (specifically the video ones, as the podcast ones tend to be less scripted) are such poignant examples of alienation + the role of 'go to therapy' in perpetuating that alienation. keep in mind that, if you personally found a therapist who is genuinely healing for you + that therapist happens to be through betterhelp- i'm genuinely happy for you + that experience does not invalidate anything i have to say below! (but jsyk they're trying to sell your shit to facebook lol)

starting strong w/ the fact that betterhelp is essentially the uber of therapy (aka using an independent contractor model which is harmful + predatory towards its providers), rushing in to fill the market on largely uninsured and/or uninformed ppl who want the ease of a concierge system without the cost + lacks a meaningful supervision system (which led to one gay man being recommended a conversion therapist when he asked for someone to help with his identity struggles, btw!). smarter people than me have written about the ways in which these trendy independent contractor apps strip people of labor rights, fail to provide adequate wages, + in the case of healthcare apps, increase digital surveillance + decrease accountability demanded from providers while exploiting the failure of the US healthcare system in order to churn a profit w/o actually creating sustainable, equitable change.

the betterhelp video ads all circle around a theme- a millennial starts talking about some form of emotional pain or worry, usually relatively standard existential worries ("do you ever think nothing has meaning?") or life worries ("i hate my job" "i think i'm gay"). their friends or the ppl around them respond blankly + coldly, looking at them like they're crazy. while i understand these ads are supposed to be tongue in cheek, they demonstrate the crushing reality of our alienation from one another- the solution to your friends responding to your evident pain with confusion + apathy is to confine that pain to a therapy session! nobody wants to hear your struggles or understands them- come generate profits for us by facetiming a newly graduated 24 year old who can barely make rent!

this theme fits well with what already put me off about betterhelp's marketing- their goal has never been to provide access to therapy for those who want it or to altruistically fill in some healthcare gap. their goal, bolstered by the rise in emotional suffering following, you know, the worldwide pandemic, is to generate + increase demand for therapy as a commodity. their earlier podcast ads focused on convincing others that therapy "isn't just for crazy ppl" + "everyone should be in therapy". regardless of if you personally agree with that statement, it should be evident that this is a blatant marketing tactic in which therapy is a commodity to be peddled, not an offer of support or healing. in fact, they're probably actively shying away from treating "crazy people", bcuz their flimsy support systems could not possibly handle an influx of ppl regularly in crisis or experiencing breaks with a common reality. their target audience is your average millennial under late capitalism + post COVID - anxious, lonely, vaguely depressed, unhappy with their jobs, worried + hopeless about their futures.

i'm not here to tell anyone not to get therapy. that's a personal decision + is none of my fucking business. it's about questioning the total alienation we feel from one another, such that pouring our heart our unexpectedly to a friend + being met with a blank stare is framed as "haha you need therapy" + not "it's crushing that this is how distant we are from one another". it's about a company noticing that (unfortunately very real) distance + fear of vulnerability + using that to direct our emotions into the confines of a business transaction under abusive labor conditions. it's about a world in which we are not engaging with one another emotionally (despite, or i guess bcuz of: widespread suffering, recent mass death, class warfare/untenable working conditions, increased pressure of fascist politics, generational trauma + abuse, etc etc). commodifying therapy isn't going to make that loneliness go away- it's going to normalize it.

#anti psychiatry #smh i write all these on the toilet then my wife is like charlie it's been a fucking hour

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hrtbreakanniversary · 8 months

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photograph | suguru geto

warnings: no use of honorifics, reader is described as a female but it can be read as gender neutral, y/n simping very hard for geto, him simping just as hard

word count: 2k

Y/N resisted the urge to grab the brown-haired bobbed girl by the hair as she playfully rolled her eyes at the suffering she was putting her best friend through.

Shoko asked her if she wanted to go to the cherry blossom festival. Originally she thought it was only going to be just them two. A little bestie date away from tiresome missions and Yaga's constant lecturing. She was especially excited to post on Facebook about their day with cute photos. No one mentioned that that Satoru Gojo was tagging along as well. And wherever Gojo was, Suguru Geto went along too.

"You'll be fine. They're super nice and I've told them a lot about you," Shoko nudged her on the side," Plus we can have Gojo buy us crepes." before interlocking their fingers and joining the two tall males that stood only a few feet away from them.

It wasn't that Y/N hated them. No, it was quite the opposite. She honestly was quite star stuck by them.

Meeting Shoko was by chance because of a bad injury she had from one of her missions. She underestimated the grade of the curse. Almost risking her life and becoming immobilized that Nanami had to take over and finish up the mission on his own. She apologized every day after when he visited her in the infirmary for making him carry the workload that day. The typically stoic blonde haired male only shrugged and told her to get better soon each time.

While in the infirmary because of her severe injures, she spent a lot of time in there especially with Shoko that was practicing her reverse curse technique on her. They bonded over their love for the K-pop group, Girls Generation.

The chorus of Into the New World blasting through the speakers that Shoko bought comforted her as she felt her bones getting rearranged.

Despite them being best friends for a while now, Y/N still never spent time with Gojo and Geto.

Being a first year student, it's not like Y/N would cross paths with them often especially since the two were always sent out on missions together. She would often hear things from other female classmates that would fangirl over "the strongest duo".

Y/N couldn't say she wasn't any different from them especially since she harbored a huge crush on Geto. She was just more quiet about it as she admired him from afar, taking a look at him each time he was doing his daily evening run through her dorm window.

It wasn't just physical either. It was his personality. He was kind and looked out for the underclassman. There was a time that Haibara wasn't being his usual cheerful self as he was being hard on himself after practice and it was hard to get him out of the mood no matter what Nanami or her did. Later that night when she snuck out to get a drink from the vending machine, she saw Geto talking to him outside of the showers. A smile appearing on his face the next second.

The next morning, Haibara came bearing gifts from Kyoto that he said one of the second years got for them but didn't disclose who. It wasn't hard to put two and two together.

So each day, she found herself wanting to get at least a glimpse of his face. Enough just to see his face but not enough for him to notice her or have a conversation like a normal person would.

Which is why she despised Shoko at the moment.

Shoko wasn't at fault at all though. Heck, the girl doesn't even know about this big fat crush of hers.

But Y/N knowing that the boy she has been pining for the past year was going to be closer to her than he's ever been before. How on earth was she suppose to function now? Should she be flirty? No, that's too much especially when you don't even know how to. Should she be quiet? No, what if he thought she was rude. There was no time to conjure up a script or a personality that would fit today righ-

"Hello."

Stuck in her thoughts, she hadn't realized she was now standing right of him.

Her breath getting caught in her throat, watching how his hair that was normally in a bun was now flowing down to his shoulder. Tied halfway up with a bang that dreamily over his eye. His slightly chapped lips moving as he moved on to greet Shoko, moving his hand up so he could ruffle her hair.

Shoko pushed his hands away in a hurried movement. Quickly wrapping an arm around Y/N's shoulder and pulling her into her side in a tight side hug,"This is Y/N Y/L/N. The first year that I've been telling you about."

"You never told us that she was pretty", Gojo smirked, his glasses tipping down so she could see his bright blue eyes.

Geto only smiled at her, greeting her with the crease of his eyes. Oh my god. That smile. She always saw it when he would be laughing at Gojo's antics but seeing it up close was something else.

Simplest way to put it: the man is gorgeous. Her heart thumped so hard she could feel it in her ears.

"You're a little shy, aren't you?" Gojo teased. Shit, was she just staring in the space again? Shoko pushed him by the shoulder.

"Leave her alone. You two are just too much. I told you to tone it down."

"You two? I haven't even done anything." Geto held his hands up in defense.

"Yet. You haven't done anything yet."

Gojo sheepshly shrugged and immediately hugged Y/N into a tight bear hug. His skinny yet firm frame engulfing her as he swung the two of them around. Over his shoulder, she made eye contact with Geto who tilted his head into her view.

" Anybody that is a good friend of Shoko is also a good friend of mine."

"Mine as well." She heard the white hair male mumble into her shoulder before getting pulled away by Shoko.

"Let's get moving. I got hungry waiting for you guys."

Because they decided to come on a weekend, it was super crowded. No space for any elbow room. Every single teenagers, adults, and their child if they had one was on this street tonight. Trying to snag a picture before pushed out by another person that wanted that same view or angle. Shoko voiced her annoyance each someone accidentally bumped into her. Normally she would be agreeing with her but she could hardly focus on that fact when she could feel Geto's muscular arm that was brushing against her. Remembering to breathe was more important.

She was almost bound to faint from how dizzy she was feeling each time he moved her in closer or out of the way from people rushing by.

It didn't help that she opted to wear a short sleeve dress today that kept flying up so she had to keep her arm down instead of moving it away from his bare arm that was exposed from the muscle tee he chose to wear instead of the school's uniform that she typically saw him in.

This totally changed her peripheral on things. She thought he made the school uniform look fantastic but he looks even better in casual clothing.

"Yo, let's take a picture here. The trees here blocks out the buildings." Gojo pointed out a spot that was a quick walk from them if they fast walked. Shoko groaned, asking if they could eat first but Gojo insisted that it was better to get their photos first so they could just sit down to eat and chill after.

Despite grumbling under her breath, Shoko easily got into line for Gojo's selfie. Gojo continously snapped pictures, the four of them striking poses. Considering how close Geto was to her, she surprisingly was still able to naturally snap poses with the group like she was friends with them for years.

"Oh, I have a polaroid!" She dug into her purse, pulling out the device. She snapped pictures of herself then of Gojo who asked for some.

Y/N found herself giggling at the silly poses that Gojo conjured and Shoko's refusal to waste film if he wasn't going to be serious about it. In the midst of it all, she hadn't noticed Geto was still standing behind her until she felt a tug on the strap out her bag.

Ready to defend herself a potential robber, she only saw Geto looking at the Keroppi keychain on her bag. "This looks familiar."

It was one of the keychain that Haibara got from him that night.

"Oh yeah. One of my classmates, Haibara, gave it to us."

Of course she knew he knew that Haibara was one of her classmates but she didn't want to accidentally slip up that she knew that specific detail about him.

"Funny. The last time I asked Haibara about his keychain, he said that he had to take it off because it got too dirty and the string broke. Nice to see yours is still intact."

"Of course I-"

She cut off herself when she remembered the reason why. It was only still intact because it was from him. Heck, Keroppi wasn't even her favorite character. It was Kuromi but Haibara wanted Kuromi and being the one that was personally gifted all the keychains, he got first choice. Before today, it was the only type of interaction she had of his and a gift was indirectly given to her. Of course, she had to take extra good care of it. Keroppi is still good as new, attached to her purse that she uses every time she goes out.

"Quick! Pose, Y/N!"

Y/N quickly snapped her head back to Shoko whose face was covered with the camera. Maybe it was instinct because Shoko did this almost all the time but she quickly posed with Geto and smiled for the picture.

After watching Shoko put the camera down and pull out the film, Y/N realized the position she put herself into. Eyeing her arms that was wrapped around his one arm with his hand still gripping onto the Keroppi.

"Of course what?"

"I'm in need of smoke break." Shoko waved around the photo for it to develop faster," There's too many people, it's stressing me out. Geto, you in?"

"Or you're just hangry." Gojo hummed, earning him another hit on the shoulder of the day.

"I will be if you don't shut up."

In fear that hell would break lose, Y/N unlatched herself from Geto, missing how his arm seemed to follow her like a magnet. "Gojo, do you want to get some crepes with me?"

Shoko winked over Gojo's shoulder at Y/N at what she considered a great suggestion, raising a thumbs up. As the two walked away, Shoko shouted for her to get as many toppings as she could fit into the treat.

"What does she think? That I'm made out of money?"

"Yes."

The nicotine filled stick left Shoko's turned up lips. She stared at the male who had his own cigarette in one hand and in the other, the photo that was taken only five minutes ago.

"You totally weren't expecting that, were you?"

Geto smiling down gleefully at the photo, his wallet pulled out to tuck it into the slot that would typically hold an ID card.

In the photo, Y/N was practically cuddling into his side. Because he was shocked at the sudden intimate interaction, he was looking down at her in the photo. If anybody else had seen the photo and didn't know them, they would've thought that they were a couple.

Which is exactly what Geto loved about the picture.

"You sure you don't want me to put in a good word for you?"

"No, I got it. I’d like it to happen naturally. Plus I don’t even know if she likes me back.”

“ Well you better find out because you begged me to let you come. I didn’t know you were going to bring Gojo with you.”

“ I needed my wingman.”

“That wingman is going to expose you if we don’t get back to them right now.”

“Crap, you’re right.”

After the two of them stomped their cigarettes, they walked back towards where all the food stalls. Geto stopped momentarily at one booth to pick up and buy a Kuromi keychain. Maybe one day he’d buy it all for her.

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scientia-rex · 11 days

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I got home from work today sneezing my head off with a right eye that won’t stop watering, took a hot shower, climbed into bed, and I haven’t climbed out since. I’m grumpy and I have a headache and if I’m not testing positive for COVID or debilitated by symptoms tomorrow I’ll still need to go to work because that’s twenty patient visits that would need to be rescheduled, usually with someone else, and that’s twenty people I’m letting down. Today I did one of my patented 45-second Pap smears (if it takes longer than that, your doctor needs to get better!) for someone with vaginal atrophy from menopause (it is both very common and very treatable) and she was in disbelief. (This time it was more like 30 seconds.) I saw a suicidally depressed patient who’s clinging to life with both hands and I changed their meds last week and I am not making them wait to see me. I cleaned a wound no one else gave a shit about and I saw a bitter pissy Republican Party bigwig who has terrible anxiety and depression she doesn’t tell anyone about, who’s alienated everyone but who I can still convince to try treatment.

I do my job on hard mode on purpose. I like being important—who doesn’t? I like being legendary, I like that when people move to town and ask for doctor recommendations on Facebook so many people mention me that other patients feel compelled to tell me about it. I got nominated for best doctor in our local region last year. (I didn’t win, out of 5 nominees.) But when I’m sick, when I’m the kind of sick that can be hidden easily, the kind of sick I was always expected to go to school and rotations and residency with, it’s so hard. I hate exposing patients, even to a cold, but the benefits of receiving care are probably enough to outweigh the chance of transmission. I wrestle with myself: if I call in, it starts a ripple effect. Can they get a per diem from their “pool” (of three) to come in? Can they reschedule my patients with me? I don’t have any open spots for five weeks. Can they open same days? None available for three weeks. Can they open blocked spots? That’s going to make my life hell when I come back from being sick. That’s clinic staff calling twenty patients, trying to reach them. That’s twenty patients who feel abandoned. They can know intellectually that doctors get sick too, but they don’t believe it. They take it personally. I have seen this over and over again, until I had to believe it.

It is so EASY for people who don’t do this job to tell me how I’m doing it wrong. “Just stay home!” Oh, okay, you want to tell the person whose chronic opioids I’m supposed to write for that I can’t? You want to put the nurses through getting the on-call to write a bridge prescription? I write more ADHD meds than most of my peers—usually a lot more. You want to tell my colleagues to write meds they’re uncomfortable with? How about tell my suicidal patients (which is a lot of them!) that the provider they know and trust after months or years will be replaced today by a 70-year-old white man who still thinks they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps? Tell my queer patients that they have to wait until I’m better and back to get their hormones and their STI screenings, reschedule a Pap someone was dreading. Every day is a kaleidoscope of opportunities to make a real connection with “difficult” patients. I’m good at it. I may be the best at it at my clinic.

I don’t hate calling in sick just because the clinic manager is a judgy bitch, though that doesn’t help. I hate it because of what it does to my patients. And it’s not simple. Pretending it is does all of us a disservice. I am not a widget. I am not easily replaceable. You can’t plug any of our per diems (all men, 2/3 white, 2/3 old, 1/3 a Bitcoin bro) into my place and call it an equivalent, and my schedule is already so packed that if I call in sick, patients will be guilt-tripping me about it for months. I’m not kidding. That happens every single time.

Christ alive, I wish it was true that doctors never got sick.

#the attending dr. kristophine

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starandcloud · 25 days

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John "Soap" MacTavish Headcannons

This man can SPRINT in heels I will die on this hill

If it wasn't for the military, he'd sleep until noon

Probably work a nightshift too

He needs coffee to function, if he doesn't have coffee he's a grouch

Takes his time waking up, not an early bird

He needs like five alarms to wake up

Bathroom first kind of person

Sometimes takes a shower in the morning, depends on if he didn't the night before

COFFEE and juice

Sweet tooth, a horrible sweet tooth

Chocolate chip pancakes are his go to, or whatever the canteen has tbh he's not that picky

He sleeps in whatever, or just his boxers does not care-

He does not dress up, he's in a uniform and looks presentable 9/10 out of ten. He's in a t-shirt and sweats when he's not deployed

Takes a shower every night, sometimes multiple times in the same night if he still feels grimey after the first one

He doesn't take baths often, but when he does it has bubbles and a rubber duckie. He likes the simple things in life guys

He likes simple scents, nothing complex

He hates 3-in-1

He likes Mint toothpaste

He eats when he can, but has pocket snacks

He loves home cooked meals

He likes smoothies, the purple ones (that he can never remember the name of) he gets from a smoothie shop are his favorites

He never makes meals for later, he's not that organized-

Rarely has leftovers

Get's fast food once in a blue moon

Doesn't eat out much, unless it's a special occasion

He does most of the chores, he has a specific way he does things

DESPISES dishes, hates the feeling of the food being squishy and soft under his fingers

IMMEDIATELY washes dishes after using them

Does have a "laundry chair" but it doesn't last long tbh

Makes his bed in the morning, military taught him well

Has a car, but that's about it

Owns a car, but it's this little puddle hopper and it's beat up- He could afford a better car, but he's deployed a lot so he probably won't buy one

He literally takes his car through the biggest puddles ever, just to see the water arch. He's easily amused

Hates boats, especially after Graves

He has an Android

Special ringtones for everyone he cares about

He has it silenced 9/10, he silences it for missions and forgets to unsilence it

He has candy-crush on his phone and I will stand firm on this

He has the basic lock and home screens

He has snapchat but uses it for the filters, also has facebook for market place and Tiktok for the car videos

He has a few followers on Tiktok

He can block someone easy

He posts his cooking fails online

He probably has angered the baking/cooking niche online A LOT, dude probably has callouts from five years ago because he doesn't care-

He sleeps whenever, but totally has sleeping meds for his PTSD

He can either be up all night or in seconds, depends on how tired he is tbh

He's a light sleeper

He talks in his sleep, but it's mostly mumbles

Has nightmares more often than not

Has a bit of light from his TV, finds it hard to sleep without it

Sleeps with every window and door locked

Has his bed in the corner of the wall, hard to be attacked from both sides

His handwritting is damn near impossible to understand, sometimes Price has a hard time deciphering it

He's an outdoorsy type

The first memory is of being with him mom at a fair

He likes bread, just bread ;-;

He listens to literally everything, except classical it puts him to sleep

Very Artsy

He has Bachlers degree

He loves cats, and has one at his moms

Struggles with gifts tbh

He went from the tallest in his family, to the one of the shortest on his team

He's huge on physical touch, especially with his partner

He said something that made Ghost stop in his tracks once, and then ever did again. It was so stupid it was smart

Soap is so fucking sociable it honestly annoys Ghost

He really wants to get married, but doesn't want to put the stress of him always being deployed on his spouse and he doesn't want to die on them

He's allergic to Buckwheat, Shellfish, Balsam of Peru, Tegretol, and Cosmetics

Whenever something traumatic happens he shrugs and goes: "Well that happened" and goes on with his life

He has a lot of scars, mostly from war itself most of them are on his upper arms but some are on his chest and forearms

He has a scar from getting a gash on his leg when playing when he was a kid, he needed A LOT of stitches

He has one that looks like a cresant moon on his right hand ring finger

He honestly doesn't mind when people trace his scars, it's kinda soothing

A little kid once asked about one on his chest, which he got when a bomb went on prematurely, and he said he got it from a T-Rex to entertain the kid.

That was also when he decided he wanted kids, when the kids eyes blew open wide and they bounced on their toes asking more questions. Which he provided absurd answers until the kids mom rushed over and apologized

The one on his chest was from a near-death experience, learned really quick how to run really really fast

He holds his partner close during cuddling, if their back is against his chest his face in buried in their neck. If he's laying on top of them, he has his head against their stomach and his arms protectively around their waist, or if his head is on his lap he just gently holds them and usually falls asleep

He's close with all of his family but is 1n00% a momma's boy

He stims by making faces, which is slightly weird if you don't know him wel

#soap #Soap #soap cod #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap mctavish #soap mw3 #141 #simon ghost riley #john soap mctavish #Soap headcanons #john mactavish #johnny mactavish #Johnny Mactavish headcanons

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sansaorgana · 8 months

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It's not caused by any recent situation, I've been thinking about it for a long time now but I have some things to say about fic writing.

Being a fic writer in a fandom might be the most ungrateful "job" in the community. I have lots of gif maker friends and I make mediocre gifs myself so I will compare these two a lot but I want to make it clear I don't want to say fic writers are more important or suffer more or anything like that because I value gif makers more than you can imagine.

– First of all, the whole cringe status around fic writing – especially x reader fanfics – is awful. I often see posts that whine about the fact that these fics even exist. People don't think twice, they just hit "post" and in result they are shaming other people for having innocent and creative hobbies. We spend real time of our real lives writing fics we love for ourselves but also for other people's enjoyment. For free. I really don't want to see posts about how cringe and silly fic writers are just because someone thinks they're superior in a fandom. It's a fucking Tumblr. Also, would you say the same about a person drawing fan art? I don't think so.

– I know there are some gifsets that take literally weeks to make but in most cases fic writing takes more time to create and at the same time it takes more time to consume. It's easy to hit a like or a reblog button under a gifset that you consumed in under a minute just like it's easy to ignore a fanfic because consuming it would take you more time. It's understandable but at the same time, if you read fanfics, reblog them at least. Leave some sort of feedback. Even one word or a reaction image. It really means a lot... And, once again, the lack of reblogs bothers gif makers as well, but I think in the case of fic writing it's mostly caused because y'all ashamed of admitting that you read these fics. Like who the fuck cares? It's not Facebook, no one here knows who you really are, who the fuck cares?

– Speaking of reactions under fics. Being like "Part Two" is considered to be extremely rude. We are not AI bots and we certainly won't force ourselves to write a second part because you demanded it without even commenting on the work itself or hitting a reblog button. If "Part Two" is all you have to say, then it's better to stay quiet.

– Also, readers who comment rudely under fics written for free like ??? So what he's out of character? So what he's a sad little meow meow in the movie but a ray of sunshine in this fic? You are not being forced to read it and there's a whole community of people preferring fluff to angst. If some fic is not your type, just ignore it. I guarantee you, there are other fics that are your type and if there are not, you're welcome to start writing yourself. I've also seen people starting dramas about some details in the smut fics. Like Jesus fucking Christ... Go touch some grass.

– What hurts the most is the prejudice from other content makers. I've seen some posts hating on/mocking fic writers that are coming from gif makers themselves. We're all on the same boat, we create fan art for the media we love. Why do we have to bring each other down? I am aware of the problem of gif stealing in the fic writing community but it mostly is caused by the fact these people don't know how to properly credit gifs with the gif tool. Believe me, most of the fic writers have a huge respect for the gif makers and I wish it went the other way around as well, even if you don't read fanfics, you don't have to be rude about people who do.

– Fan fiction writers are not desperate ugly teenagers locked in their parents' basement. Some of them are mothers, some of them have PhDs, some of them are doctors, some of them are just simple people who want to relax after a stressful day. The same things y'all be thinking of fic writers can be said about any content maker on this site because they also spend hours in front of a computer making fan arts or gifs of their favorite characters.

#sansaorgana's shitpost #***#fic writing #fan fiction #fan fic writing #fan fic stuff #fan fic things

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katy-l-wood · 10 months

Note

Delete your Threads account. You know what Meta as a company has done, you know the kind of person Mark Zuckerberg is. You've lived through Gamergate, the elections, covid, the fucking lot of it, and yet you're still willingly making an account on Threads. How can you possibly justify that?

Second ask: Scratch that, I hadn't read your most recent posts. Sorry for being so rude.

Third ask: "Still going to keep an eye on it" For what exactly? For it not to be as bad as it is? For it to get even worse before you decide it is wrong? You know who Mark Zuckerberg is. You know what Facebook is. Be up front: you don't actually care or stand for anything, you're only afraid of losing business. Have some dignity.

So you decided to be rude as fuck, "apologize," and then come back and be more rude?

I was incredibly clear in that post of why I am going to keep an eye on Threads, despite the concerns: Twitter was a valuable source of live news, especially during natural disasters, and Threads is the first potentially viable replacement for that. IDK if you actually follow me, but if you do you'll know I do a lot of work around natural disaster communication. Twitter was invaluable as a communication source during natural disasters. Full stop. It is not up for debate. But hey, if you want a source with more authority than a random tumblr blog, here, have a nice shiny research paper:

Mind you, that was written in 2010 and the importance of Twitter as a communications tool during natural disasters has only increased since then. There is no other tool out there, no other website--news or otherwise, that can provide such granular, specific updates when shit hits the fan as Twitter did. The only better, quicker source of information I have found during natural disasters is listening to actual radio chatter from the departments involved in whatever problem, and that can be very tricky to do if you don't know where to look or have the right equipment. There is no other site where I can go specifically follow so many of my local fire departments, my local emergency services, my local National Weather System stations, and get live pushed updates from them every single time they post.

When Twitter DDOSed itself last week and put a limit on the amount of tweets people could view and forced people to be logged in to view anything at all, the effect was immediate and BAD. People suddenly couldn't view things like missing person alerts, or weather alerts. I had people messaging me because they were trying to check the National Weather System autoalerts for their area on Twitter due to being caught in a sudden storm, but they couldn't get on to check.

Love it or hate it, Twitter had an immense amount of value and it got that value--at least in the case of natural disaster communication--because the stubborn ass government decided it was big enough to be trusted with official lines of information. Very, very few other social media sites have ever had that trust from the government. Look at how they banned TikTok on all government devices. But they DO trust Facebook, and Instagram, and Meta. Which means their chances of trusting Threads and migrating over there when Twitter finally takes its last breath are ASTRONOMICALLY higher than expecting them to go anywhere else.

We can debate the privacy and moral issues of the Metaverse and those involved until the cows come home, but it does not change the fact that if my mountain is on fire I'm gonna get information about where that fire is from wherever the fuck I can. I'm not going to wait around for it to maybe show up in a "live" updates news article from CNN from some reporter half a continent away in New York who doesn't know anything about where I live and gets the roads wrong because they just don't know. I'm going to go to the website full of my neighbors and local firefighters and see what's happening right that second.

Do we need to fix the privacy and moral issues? Yes. But we can't throw the baby out with the bathwater either. Not using Threads or any other Meta product isn't the answer here. Using them with extreme caution and only for very specific needs, for the time being, is. Long term, we need to be focusing on privacy based legislation that would finally put these companies in their place. But until then, again, I'm going to keep following my local fire departments wherever they go.

P.S.: If you're going to keep the shitty attitude, fuck right off and unfollow+block. You're not wanted here.

#Threads #I was honestly going to make this post anyway due to how some people are tagging the original post #So here #I could honestly debate this all day #lol #But I have shit to do today and right now that is breakfast #Natural Disaster Communication #Twitter #Death of Twitter

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peppermint-rat · 6 months

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To everyone who was raised mormon - anger is not a sin. Anger is your friend.

Obviously, it has to be managed, like any emotion. Being reactive and having a temper is not healthy. But being angry is. You might have heard that a good and kind person is never angry.

Bullshit.

Anger is an internal alarm that something might be wrong. That you, someone you know, or a group as a whole are being mistreated, or at the very least, you are not satisfied with the way things are. But even being dissatisfied is called blasphemous. Nephi's brothers sure liked to "murmur", didn't they?

Why would the church call anger a sin? Anger that does not inflict physical harm on other people? Is it a sin to make other people uncomfortable with your emotions?

Yes, actually. Turn off your ability to identify mistreatment, turn off your ability to be dissatisfied with your life, and make sure everyone around you turns those off, too.

That way, the church can take 10% of all of your money and tell you to fall to the ground and kiss their feet in gratitude for it. They can force you to cut your hair before being allowed into a fun youth event. They can string you up like a fucking marionette and you'll just go limp and follow their directions, because resisting would make you a bad person.

Of course the people that tied you up would tell you that struggling is a sin.

And, even outside of the church, but ESPECIALLY in the church, people will use this idea to make themselves into the better person and place all the blame on you for THEIR actions. They will feel threatened by you being upset about things that they worked so hard to justify in their minds - but the thing is, you're angry, which means you're wrong and scary and the familiar mistreatment feels more comfortable than ever. Sometimes, people will even take the opportunity, as the clear Bigger Person in the situation, to treat you even worse, but use such calm and pacifist language that, naturally, you're the cruel and irrational one.

I made a Facebook status once telling everyone who agreed with the church's new homophobic "doctrine" to unfriend me. A cousin I never spoke to DMed me telling me that she felt like I hated her for believing in the church, and she didn't hate me for my "choice" of lifestyle, and - get this - she loved me and would therefore not unfriend me herself, I would have to do it. So she would be noble, and I would be the angry little apostate dyke. I reconnected with an old mormon friend and told her that I was hurt by her believing homophobic things, and she immediately told me that I always blew things out of proportion and got angry for no reason. My brother has been abusive to me all my life, but whenever I got upset, I was rocking the boat, or I was even worse than him for being angry at all. A friend who wasn't even mormon betrayed the fuck out of me and told me "I understand if /you/ don't want to be friends anymore," like they hadn't decided that on their own with their extremely hurtful actions. But hey, using calm and pacifist words while someone else is upset means you will always be the one being "so good about it"!

Anger is not a sin, anger is not an excuse to treat you badly. Anger is what will save you from thinking that mistreatment is justified. Practice patience with your loved ones, but be assertive. Practice forgiveness with the people you WANT to forgive. But if you wanna die mad, that's your fucking right.

Fuck this "drinking poison and expecting the other person to die" shit. Being angry and staying angry led me away from a cult, away from abuse, away from manipulative people, and gave me the courage to fight to protect my little niece in a dangerous situation.

Anger is your friend.

#exmo #exmormon #ive been trying to write succinct poetry about this but I just can't quite do it

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ladyvlolypop · 1 year

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Bucky Barnes Headcanons

these are both dating and overall head canons, if you think the writing is a little out of my usual type it's because I wrote these while

My Masterlist

Bucky Barnes x gn!reader; sfw

Very gentle, his touches are very soft and he tries to avoid being harsh with you, knowing he’s way stronger than you(and because he’s unsure of his metal arm).

When he passes you he gives you subtle touches, his hand on your hip or waist for a brief moment.

He used to smoke when he was a soldier. Heavy smoker and drinker but he never touched a cigarette again after he became the winter soldier, not because he didn’t want to but he just didn’t want to be addicted to anything.

He can definitely speak and understand bits of german and italian because he was stationed in Austria and Italy during the war. He speaks french as well but much better(we love a multilingual king)

He understands russian perfectly but struggles to speak or write/read it. He understands bits of other slavic/balkan languages as well(if you speak russian freshen up his skills a little pls)

He sometimes still stares in awe at modern things, he imagined the world differently in the 30's. Will sometimes tell you how certain spaces changed and how they used to look like back in the day.

He likes to tell you about his childhood, liking to compare how you two grew up

Has lots oft things to catch up to

Has a flip phone w a loud ass ringtone

Jumps a little when hearing his ringtone

He has a smartphone for work but he barely uses it

Loves fantasy shows/movies and reading

LOTR and GOT fan honestly

Likes baking and cooking but he’s not good at it, he’s thankful for microwaveable meals and your cooking

Can’t ride a bike

Can’t drive, learned it just before infinity war happened

He probably let his his metal arm get hot in the sun and cracked an egg on it with sam

It fried

You only call him 'James' if it's serious or if it's to tease him

will use nicknames like "Doll", "Babygirl", "Honey","Darlin'(g)" or "Dear" for you

Uses lotion for his scars

would fold if you did it for him, def will offer to do the same for you(he gives really good messages let him)

Has a routine for his beard when he lets it grow out, likes to keep himself groomed

Same for his hair

Has insane home remedies

Pulls out chernobyl broth when you have a feet ache(boils sprite)(He read about it on facebook)

Doesn’t trust italians

He’s such a dad

Dad jokes all the way

Enjoys shopping for home gadgets

Knows how to haggle and will show his skills when he can

Will often come home with surprise groceries or gifts, things or snacks you like or some other stuff he got on sale

Likes to go to flea markets

Sometimes comes home with large amounts of certain products

Man will come home with 3 boxes of fruit because there was a sale

Love language is definitely gift giving and acts of service

Carries your bags or groceries for you without asking, pretty good at fixing things around the house

He’s good with kids, wants his own but unsure when the right timing for it would be

He sometimes shows them tricks with his metal arm

He’s not much of a talker unless you two are alone

Often rants about work

Good listener though, very attentive listener

He sleeps like a bear, very warm and keeps close to you, his arm cools down at night though and you might wake up with the feeling of cold metal against your belly

He started sleeping better when you were with him, still you will sometimes find him sleeping on the floor in the mornings, old habits die hard.

He’s very stubborn, especially if it's about your safety but he hates arguing with you

He hates the possibility of you getting hurt in any way

You're on his mind all the time

walks around with the thoughts of "would Y/N like that? Should I buy them that?"

first thing he does when coming home after missions is give you a tight hug

if it's really bad all he wants to do is hold you closely and cuddle for hours

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if you think the writing is a little out of my usual type it's because I wrote these while on a call with my bsf and she was poorly singing lana del ray songs in my ear, some of these hc were even here ideas

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes domestic hc #bucky barnes fluff #x reader #marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine

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dailymanners · 8 months

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A queue is nothing more than a waiting line. Key word: waiting. Then why is it so hard for some people to wait their turn?

The word queue is French in origin, and it is also one of the most commonly misspelled words in English, right up there with etiquette and dessert (or is it desert?). It's a word more used by the Brits than by Americans, who say "in line" (or "on line," for New Yorkers). Some cultures are much more amenable to forming orderly lines than others (the ones who don't will not be mentioned here). But cutting into the queue or the line is frowned on everywhere.

So why is it that some people can't resist cutting in line? Is it possible that they have more of a sense of entitlement than others, and that what they have to do is more important than those who are waiting their turn. People who are waiting in line correctly almost always notice when anyone cuts in line (especially in this country, where it is truly frowned on), though they may be too polite to say anything. They may not be too polite to take a photo or a video of the miscreants, though, so if you are one of them, be aware that you might end up on YouTube or Facebook as a scofflaw.

Here are some tips that make standing in line easier for everyone:

• Queue early. If you hate standing in line, practice being early to events, especially those that you know will be crowded, such as Disneyland, a museum exhibition, or a movie premiere. And get to the airport a little before your airline advises.

• Wait your turn. Don't even think about cutting in line. You will leave a group of disgruntled, not to say angry, people behind you, and bad karma ahead of you. An exception here is if you know you will miss something very important, such as a airline connection, by waiting in line. In case of this kind of emergency, explain to people ahead of you in line what your problem is, and ask them if you can go ahead of them. Even better, contact an airline assistant and ask them to take you to the head of the line. They will do so if you will miss your connection otherwise.

• Offer your place in line to someone who needs it more. If you're standing in a grocery line with a full basket of purchases and the person behind you has just a few, offer to trade places! This is a simple act of kindness that costs nothing but a few minutes of your time. And whenever possible, offer to let older people, pregnant women, disabled people, and parents/caregivers with babies or young children go ahead of you.

• Children. If you suspect you will have to wait in line with your children, tell them ahead of time that will probably have to do so and that they will need to practice patience. It's never too early to teach children how to behave in public. But also bring something to keep them occupied, such as a book.

#manners #politeness #courtesy #good manners #etiquette

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slayerkitty · 6 months

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Narrative Frameworks in Only Friends

So here we are, the finale of Only Friends and not a framework in sight. Would the last half of the show worked better in some respects if we had the frameworks come back? Would we understand more about why Boston's friends hate him? (Did they ever like him? Ray seemed to, but Mew and Cheum...)

I wish we had gotten more frameworks toward the end. I wish the voiceovers had come back for the last episode if nothing else, because I would have wanted one from each character. It would have maybe solved some of the narrative issues (re: Boston).

I also wanted to thank everyone who liked, reblogged, commented or otherwise interacted with me and these posts on a weekly basis. Your feedback, discussions and general love made watching Only Friends an amazing experience each week and reminded me why I love being in fandoms.

Shoutout to the amazing members of the Ephemerality Squad who made this ride fun and thought provoking: @lurkingshan, @waitmyturtles, @wen-kexing-apologist, @chickenstrangers, @ranchthoughts, @twig-tea, @clara-maybe-ontheroad, @distant-screaming, @thatgirl4815, @elizabethsebestianhedgehog

I've gone back and added things to earlier episodes that weren't there before, so make sure to read through the whole list! Please let me know if I missed anything - I will edit this post based on suggestions.

Frameworks:

1. Voiceovers: gives the audience specific insight into a characters thoughts and feelings; also a great way to provide exposition. It’s more of an audio than visual framework, as we don’t always see the character doing the voice-over because it plays over other scenes.

2. “Talking Heads”: The characters talk directly to the camera, interview/documentary style. We get to see exactly how they feel about a given moment because they are reacting to it at that time. Audio and visual. Homage to Love8009 (per P'Jojo).

3. Social Media (ft The Artist Formerly Known as Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook): Not as insightful as the other two frameworks but does give context and a way for interaction, commentary, and exposition on a given plot. Visual. Probable homage to Together With Me, one of the first spicy BLs starring our kings, MaxTul.

(Side Note: I was re-watching some scenes from Never Let me Go and realized P'Jojo uses yellow text on the screen in it too. So maybe he just likes the yellow text or maybe it means something, idk, idk.)

Episode 1

Framework: Voiceover

Title: What’s Your Role in a Bar?

Narrator: Mew

Visual Moment: Yellow title cards listing everyone’s “roles” as well as the month and days of the week

End Credit Shot: Mew sitting on the floor in front of his fish tank

Episode 2

Framework: Talking Heads

Title: M.F.M. My Favorite Man

Narrator: Everyone

Visual Moment: The talking heads scenes; SandRay smoke kiss; Boston's dark room; Photo Boston takes of Nick post sex; Photo of RayMew from wakeboarding

Audible Moment: The songs Ray plays during his scenes with Sand

End Credit Shot: Ray driving

Episode 3

Framework: Social Media (Twitter and Instagram)

Title: What Am I to You?

Narrator: Nick and Boston

Audible Moment: The thunder rumbling ominously over everyone's bad decisions, Nick listening to the TopBoston sex audio

Visual Moment: Top's Instagram (with all of Boston's comments); Photo strip of TopBoston from their hookup in the photo booth; Photo of the Fab Four in Boston's room; Nick watching TopBoston have sex; Photo of RayMew kissing

End Credit Shot: Nick listening to TopBoston sex audio

Episode 4

Framework: Voiceover

Title: Emergency Contact

Narrator: Ray

Visual Moment: The flashback of RayMew is in 4:3 ratio (meaning it looks like recorded footage versus a memory); yellow text onscreen indicates flashback

Audible Moment: TopMew at the silent disco (both moments of silence but also them singing); SandRay listening to music at the record store

End Credit Shot: Ray driving (repeat from episode 2)

Episode 5:

Framework: Voiceover

Title: The Extra Hour

Narrator: Sand

Visual Moment: Intro and Outro are animated; black and white (made me think of the Take on Me MV by A-ha but I’m open to suggestions on what this might be referring to), "Ray o'clock/Alone o'clock" appearing onscreen in white letters (not yellow!); TopMew going Instagram official; The blind dining scene

End Credit Shot: Sand driving his motorcycle

Episode 6:

Framework: None

Title: Happy Fucking Birthday

Narrator: None

Audible Moment: Ray listens to the TopBoston sex audio; Mew plays the TopBoston sex audio for Top

Visual Moment: Top draws Mew sleeping/gives Mew a book of drawings he did of Mew; BostonNick selfies

End Credit Shot: Top in his bathtub alone looking angsty

Episode 7:

Framework: None

Title: After Effect

Narrator: None

Visual Moment: Mew setting the drawing on fire; Boston’s sex tape; the “super zooms”

End Credit Shot: Mew sitting on the floor in front of his fish tank (repeat from episode 1)

Episode 8:

Framework: None

Title: Save Me

Narrator: None

Visual Moment: Facebook party invite/everyone’s reactions to the invite; Everyone’s costumes at the party

End Credit Shot: Boston looking angsty at the hostel

Episode 9:

Framework: None

Title: The Return

Narrator: None

Visual Moment: Boston’s photo of Atom; Top recording SandRay kissing;

End Credit Shot: Top in his bathtub alone looking angsty (repeat from episode 6)

Episode 10:

Framework: None

Title: Redemption

Narrator: None

Visual Moment: The “I will never leave you”/“I will never love you” neon sign; Boston’s photos of Atom; Nick’s photo as Boston’s lock screen; Boeing’s Instagram

End Credit Shot: Ray driving (repeat from episode 2 and episode 4)

Episode 11:

Framework: None

Title: Move On Move In

Narrator: None

Visual Moment: Boston taking pics of NickAtom

End Credit Shot: Sand driving his motorcycle (repeat from episode 5)

Episode 12:

Framework: None

Title: Begin Again

Narrator: None

Visual Moment: Yellow letters indicating the date (NYE); Framed photo of Nick; Framed photo of the Fab Four at the hostel; Mix's entrance; Begin Again montage of SandRay; Hostel sign "Only Friends Stay"

Audible Moment: Begin Again montage of SandRay

End Credit Shot: Outtakes/BTS

Tagging @sandrayy by request

Apologies to anyone I forgot!

#only friends the series #only friends meta #thai bl #ephemerality squad #only friends is over and I don't know what my emotions are doing

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