#what the fuck is the excuse for live action

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 || 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ when you declined to play Ddakji with a man, the least you expected was him stalking you, even less expected when you oblige him to lick your bleeding wound after seeing him kill a man and escaping him.

warnings_ MDNI, age gap (not specified but legal) reader is a foreigner (implied American but not specified again), stalking, blood play, dom!salesman, switch!reader, toxic till the end, sexual innuendos, manipulation, questionable morals, do not romanticize this irl pls, NO PROOFREAD YET

notes_ I’ll just drop this fic and leave it there bc why am i feeling so horny for an Asian sociopath? me la estoy pasando bien raro (i like it)

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 this man (in progress)

✰ Index (+ fics here)

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Everything was irritating. The class you had was canceled last minute, the crowd at the train station was loud, the tapping of a kid in a window was constant, and the message you received asking for your campus ID to keep using your student account was sudden and required immediate action. Your cramps and migraine only aggravate everything.

You were steps away from the stairs when you stopped to take the damn picture of your ID and be done with that. But of course, you couldn’t find your wallet at first glance, so you moved aside to take a better look.

You worried about kneeling and ruining your black coat with the dirtiness of the floor at the station, but at the same time, you thought it was just stupid.

A trail of curses flooded your mind as you tried to find your wallet, making you oblivious to a random man walking in your direction.

“Excuse me, Miss… Would you like to play Ddakji?” Said the man asked you in Korean. You were occupied with a hand inside your thrifted designer tote, and your mind unconsciously prepared an answer in English.

“Sorry, I don’t have time” When you realized your mid-answer you sighed, just as you fished out your wallet. “For every win of yours, you’ll earn a great sum of cash”

Once you stood up, you met the face of the man who now answered in English as well. Very tall, handsome, innocent smile and in a suit; a businessman. You knew it was wrong to judge but there was something behind the smile he offered you that resulted eerie.

Like behind that seemingly blameless expression, the man was hiding his true intentions.

Might’ve been your eyes or hair that caught his attention. You weren’t native, and he didn’t want to think he could take advantage, yet his feet dragged him to you.

Placing your bag over your shoulder again, you grab your glasses and phone with tangled EarPods. You give the man one last look. You are not having a good day and you don’t have time to deal with this.

“What do you say?” He asks feigning kindness, eyeing you subtly without your knowledge.

“No, thank you. I don’t even know how the game works”

“You look like you are a natural. You might be surprised if you try. You just have to pick a color and try to flip the opposing tile”

The rich always trying to fuck the one who isn’t. This was just a new way. The urge to roll your eyes grew but you remained still.

“Look, I’m sorry. But I bet you do this just to see how desperate people who need money can go. I won’t be one of them. If not, sorry for misjudging you” you harshly say before putting on your EarPods and leaving the station. You leave him perplexed, huffing in disbelief and igniting a fire of curiosity inside him.

And you completely forgot about the Ddakji man as you made it to your little apartment, not knowing he would turn upside down your upcoming days.

…

Warm days in winter were exciting for you. They boosted your energy and made you want to be out all day.

You had the luck of living in a beautiful complex because it was once from a friend of your mother who married years ago and now had her single apartment for rent.

It had long warm hallways that hosted at least eight apartments by floor. With orange and pink subtle lights and uneven edges. It was truly a sight despite how little the apartments were. One bedroom with closet and bathroom, a tiny studio, small kitchen, enough space for a dining table, another small bathroom, and a half sized living room with balcony.

Your loneliness was well-balanced because you loved your home. But even on warm days, you wanted to be out.

Your red shoes contrasted with everything you stepped on. You carried a bag with a bunch of books and another one with thrifted clothes you bought.

At the park you always walked by, there was a fair amount of people as usual. You don’t care much to look around but someone makes you stare longer than needed.

The same man who asked if you wanted to play a game at the station was in the park. Another impeccable suit dressing him, looking attractive like the first time and already looking at you.

He offered you a smile, to which you didn’t reply. You looked at the ground, feeling like you had frozen.

What a weirdo, he offered bread and a random paper to a lonely man.

Simultaneously, you wondered if the man found you attractive enough to stare like that. With your mind that often became nihilistic, you thought you were delusional and that you should just keep walking.

His eyes remained glued to you. As his prey was thinking about what was better to choose, he contemplated you walking again.

The salesman realized he had made you nervous and that made him feel eager to end his job and follow you again.

Once he realized you lived in a good neighborhood, where his elegant suits matched the vibe, he got even more excited to see you again.

So now, was like it was meant to be.

How sweet, sophisticated, and innocent you looked.

Something shifted, as you passed by his side, only having a view of his back, you assumed he was worked out, his hair looked perfectly fine, and his big hands offered two things. Perhaps you had misjudged him and he really wanted to help. But your inner voice said otherwise. In a sudden change of events, you decided to look back once you were almost at the exit of the park.

With his deep gaze still set on you, your lips formed a smile.

And he took it as a first win in the games that had begun between you two.

…

Once again, you find yourself in the library. Inside one of the biggest malls you’ve been to, you are leaning at a counter, asking if they have an English translation of a book you were interested in.

Your Korean isn’t good enough yet, so as the nice librarian disappeared to find your request, you are working on your next reply, with a translation app.

“Do you recommend me this one?” your back arched as a startled reflex. You quickly stand straight and turn around to see the person you grew anxious to avoid and see again. The salesman is there, looking down at you with a perfectly orchestrated smile.

“Huh?” you ask disconcertingly, he shows you a book, his face looking like he had found a wounded little bird. But it was only you, startled and nervous by his strong presence.

The book is The Divine Comedy. Dante Alighieri.

“Certainly is a good one. A lot of heavenly justice…” you say trying to sound confident, looking at the cover of the book. Displaying the layers that separated heaven from hell. “Do you believe in heavenly justice?”

“I don’t know. We can’t call someone a sinner without a proper trial beforehand” he chuckles, which makes you frown for a second. He truly was unpredictable and you didn’t like that. “Ah, sinners. Always misjudged and harshly punished for being the ones who have the guts to make things…” his deep voice and tone made you wonder if he was self-perceived as a sinner, which made you feel worse.

“You sound like an ethnocentric…”

“I don’t think I’m far into that type of thinking, y/n” Your eyes almost popped out, leaving your hands in an anxious tremble.

“How is it possible that you know my name?” Before he can even answer, you add more. “You are stalking me”

His demonic smile makes your heart stop. The smile you once thought had innocence can’t blind you anymore. He isn’t innocent. He literally confirmed he was stalking you and you didn’t know how to feel.

“I don’t like the idea that conveys the word ‘stalking’. We can call it predestination…” you huff in disbelief. “What do you want with me?”

“I would like to get to know the woman who rejected my Ddakji offer. And ask for one more game” Your lips form a line, and quietly you are hating how much you are enjoying the conversation.

“Hmm, I’m bad at most games, so I’m afraid I will reject you once again” You turned back again to see if the librarian was coming when you felt him stepping closer, which made you feel nervous again.

“I might believe you. I always win…” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers through your spine and creating a lot of tension.

Your psycho mode almost made you lean forward again, daring to see if some friction was possible. But you didn’t, trying to be prudent and acting sane.

“I would’ve wanted a normal first interaction and this time you should’ve asked me out on a date. That’s how it works where I come from but… here, I guess not” he stepped aside as the librarian handed you the book. And as you thanked her and turned to leave and pay somewhere else, he took out a card and handed it to you.

“I’m sure we can work on some sort of arrangement. Here, you may call me…” slightly irritated that he didn’t say much about your inquiry, you snatched the card and walked away.

The cathartic feelings of wanting to keep talking to him and running away from him at the same time resulted in excruciating. It didn’t make sense, the point of him was to nowhere. Being clueless about his age, name, and everything made it feel wrong. Yet, curiosity was starting to burn you.

…

Like a miracle, the heavens moved and sprinkled some luck above you. You found some friends on campus, they spoke English like you and were foreigners as well. One of them was a friend of the owner of a club and invited you for the night.

The invitation made you forgetful about your salesman, whom you hadn’t talked with since the encounter in the library. The card he handed the last time rested between the book you bought the same day, making you unable to read more because it reminded you of the encounter with him.

It resulted unknown to you when was that your life had turned over the edge of becoming twisted. Your feelings for a mysterious man who seemed more accusable than appeared remained undecided.

He made you feel like a wildfire and a caged bird at the same time. Delicate but menacing.

He seemed older than you, professional in a field, mature and imposing. Which you didn’t mind when he appeared to ask you about The Divine Comedy. Either way, you were playing but couldn’t risk anything. Especially in a country where you didn’t know how everything worked.

After getting out of the shower, your thoughts on the salesman are completely faded. You slip on a sequin dress and paint your eyes with glitter and a smokey style.

Thereafter, at the club you let yourself go and have a wild night. Between classes, essays, and the issue with the salesman, you needed a time out.

Everything feels nice when you take a bathroom break and you smile at your reflection. You know you are close to being drunk, it’s the most enjoyable stage of ingesting alcohol.

“Hey, let’s go dancing, I couldn’t find you before!” Yells one of your friends after you reunite with the little group. You nod excitedly, taking her hand and letting her take you to the dance floor.

The music reminded you of that time when spinnin records were a trend and everyone played their mixes at parties back at home. As you move along the track, you don’t look at anything in particular, you just feel interesting and sexy. But your eyes end up giving a quick glance at one table, almost making you stop your euphoric moment.

You swore you saw your salesman.

Looking around you don’t see him, so you return dancing but the odd sensation in your chest doesn’t let you rest.

“What happens?” Asks another friend, looking worried.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone. Never mind…” you shake your head, smiling and convincing them that everything is fine.

But once they got more drunk, you walked out, despite curiosity, you wanted to confirm if the tall gorgeous man was near you.

Rarely you bring up to question your life decisions. Not because you thought you were perfect, but because you easily accepted your errors.

And it wasn’t hard to accept you completely messed up by getting out of the club. Where the night was colder, and some steps away from the main entrance, the crowd was loud. A man could be heard pleading and sobbing, which made you fearful but eager to see what was happening.

You peeked at the alley beside the club. A wave of shock flooded you once you noticed another man was punching the one who yelped and sobbed for forgiveness.

Your salesman was the attacker.

“Please! I’ll pay everything back!” Your mind raced back to the moment you spotted your salesman inside the club minutes ago.

His dark grey suit didn’t fit the aura of the place, but he seemed to be talking with the same man he was now punching.

It was obvious at that point that he wasn’t a good man. He made fun of making people play his seemingly innocent games to later laugh in the face whenever they lost. He was never flirting with you, the odd feeling of uncertainty you felt with him was right.

You had to go. You had to burn the card he gave you, avoid the station where you met him, and forget about his face.

There’s panic in your system, your heart beats fast and nausea starts coming up your throat.

You want to get immediately drunk and forget everything you saw with a hangover. You need it.

But you don’t get very far. Midway through the stairs that conduct to the club, a hand holds your forearm with extreme pressure and drags you inside a private room.

Your salesman finally found you.

…

“You just killed a man!” you almost yelled as soon as he pushed you inside and closed the door.

The room was very fancy like the club. It had a big desk near a window, flower-shaped hanging lamps, black sparkly floor tiles, and a sage velvet couch.

Your salesman slides his fingers through his hair and looks at the ceiling before turning to you. One hand still carrying the murder weapon.

“He deserved it” was all he answered and you take a breath. In need of an alibi, you opened a random fridge in the room and grabbed a beer. Your salesman watched how you sipped at the can. He knew you were feeling a mix of curiosity and disgust for him.

Once you drink at least half of the content, you sigh, brushing aside some hair and walking towards him.

“Who are you?” you ask pleadingly, desperate to know how far you’ve gone for him.

“Eventually you’ll know” he sounds cold, calculating, and menacing. “You didn’t call…”

He was taking advantage of your vulnerability.

“I met you a week ago, I don’t even know your name” you admit with shame and dissatisfaction.

For the first time, he genuinely touches you. Hands straight to your waist, making gasp in surprise.

“You’re smart and will eventually understand. You’re my good girl”

His good girl….

What was left to do when you have a sociopath holding your waist with the same hands he had used to kill a man? Play along, even if you are terrified.

What had been your horrified face, slowly ends up in a smirk, tilting your head, squandering cheekiness. “I’m not your good girl, sir”

He slowly leaned back, taking a seat on the sage couch, one of his hands going straight to rest behind his head, against the wall. He twirled the knife against his knee, making you uneasy, but confident about your upcoming words.

“If I walk away, you can’t do much with me, I’m a foreigner. Sure the authorities would dismantle whatever dirty job you’re into and that’s a big no-no” you explain, and feeling a little too bold, you step between his legs.

“Your lack of ignorance amazes me” he admits, offering you a cocky smile. “It makes me even more infatuated”

Your left knee pushed aside his hand twirling the knife. He remained still but sure seemed slightly surprised when you ended up straddling him. With your hands glued to his dark tie, putting it into place.

“Hmm, well, be careful. I am no threat, I barely have valuable skills to get rid of you but I know I could be a problem. So I guess I won, sir…” you allow yourself to smile, following a path with your fingers, from his tie to his cheeks and nose, softly tracing his pale skin.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart” You knew he was trying to be in control, and the best part was that you weren’t fighting for it.

“There’s a lot I might not understand. I’m just a girl who happened to be in this city for a temporary academic project” When your lips brushed his, you couldn’t deny he was so fucking hot, you wished he wasn’t so weird and probably part of a mafia or cult or whatever. “You are the grown-ass man who got obsessed with me”

“I just find you an odd but interesting player, sweet girl” he tried to use his innocent smile but it was useless when you grabbed him by the shoulders and finally dared to kiss him.

He controlled it the moment he touched you again. His hands had a possessive sting and firmly grabbed you by the hips. One of them still holding the knife.

Feeling bold, with adrenaline flowing freely, you softly bit his lower lip. You knew it was over when he almost let out a moan, and after checking he had his eyes closed, you literally jumped away from him.

Without looking back, you started running. Your clumsy steps turn frantic, knowing damn well he would start following you soon. As you literally start pushing people to get out, your heart beats faster than ever and you have a growing anxiety, begging you to stop and breathe.

Once the cold air hit you, as you took a cab and saw no sign of your salesman, confusion struck you and you saw the blood in your chest and arm.

“Are you alright, girl?” The driver asked, also watching your bleeding state.

“Yes, just an accident, I’m okay” he nods unsure, but starts driving after you give him your destination.

His knife must’ve sliced your skin when you stood up from his lap. When he moved one of his big hands to caress your chin.

It wasn’t that you were scared of him, of your salesman. Although you should be; but you weren’t. Could it be that the worst part was that you were attracted to him? Even after watching him kill a man? You were screwed.

You realize the reason why you always ran away from him is because you don’t know how to face his unpredictable demeanor.

At that point, you didn’t know what he wanted. Only that he was obsessed with you. But his intentions remained a mystery unsolved.

Before getting out of the cab, you pay and send your friends a message that you left early because you got a headache after vomiting. This didn’t happen, but would’ve been better to experience it as a young woman in her twenties.

…

When you opened the door, he was already inside. The worst part is that you weren’t surprised anymore. You only stood at the feet of the door, looking at him with uneasiness.

“You got me worried,” he says, stopping his movements around your table. “You left some blood stains and I thought it was serious”

“You accidentally showed me your true nature. A little bit of blood shouldn’t scare you” his shirt indeed had some bloody spots, his blazer was gone, and the sleeves of his messy shirt were rolled up. You hated that your first thought was that he looked very hot.

He moved and took a seat at one of your tables. He sighed and you realized that perhaps he was also screwed up. For letting himself go too far for you.

“I don’t regret any encounter we’ve had,” he says. “Me neither”

He can’t stop staring at your bloodstained dress and you notice.

Fuck everything, you thought.

I’m attracted to him, he’s attracted to me, What’s the worst thing that could happen? (I don’t want to know).

“Silly boy, look what you did to me,” you say looking at the soaked fabric.

Something possessed you at that moment. Your hands went straight to lift your dress. His eyes trailed your sparkly underwear, your lower belly, and your ribs that rose and fell as you breathed.

Your hands twirl behind your back to unhook your bra; also soaked, throwing it to the floor.

Your salesman is quiet, his innocent smile about to fall because you know you have taken him by surprise.

Likely you’ll get a scar. The would-be slightly deep, an uneven line that passed from your neck to your shoulder.

You step forward, confidently eyeing him.

“Clean it” he tried to stand up, probably to grab a med kit but you stopped him with your heel. “With your mouth. Lick it clean…”

He gulped.

His manspread became the only thing you could care about. How he eyed you with lust and possession for some seconds, and then to lean forwards.

Once again his hands landed on the curves of your hips and he made you step up, leaving him inches away from you.

Your sudden surgation grew and his hot tongue finally made contact with your skin.

You savored the feeling of his tongue, knowing he wouldn’t clean anything but the semi-dry blood over your breast. He was only making a mess.

Then, he lifts his head and catches your lips in a sullied kiss. The way he held you, made you understand how he always wanted control. Above anything.

“I will be gone within time. You can ruin me while it lasts…” you blurt out, panting for air.

“I’ll ruin you. But I don’t want to rip you apart. That’s pointless…” he admits in your lips, blood near your chin that he wipes out. “You’re the most fun I’ve had in years. My little toy…”

“Alright, I’ll be your toy” he nods, kissing you again. “Know that my lips are sealed when it comes to you”

“And you won’t have to worry about anything again…” you moan on his lips when he pulls your hair and finally makes you lay on your once new carpet, now displaying some splotches of blood.

“I don’t need your money”

“Don’t you want to make your mother proud and relieved from student debts? From rent?” You can’t think straight. “It’s not correct…”

“None of this is, y/n. Now shut your mouth and spread your legs, toy”

It’s wrong, immoral, a complete madness. You know everything will change once the night dies and the morning comes. But as much as you tried to communicate to him that you weren’t scared, you knew it was over, you’ve gotten too deep into his shit.

“Farewell to my purity” you whisper in his ear and it’s enough to make his eyes turn darker, full of lust.

Everything that consoles purity would be gone from you. And the fact that you were ready scared you. But once his hands started meeting places across your body, you welcomed the sin.

As well as your mind seized thinking. Not caring about the consequences.

_______________________________________________

If you ask for more I will provide

Quién me manda a escribir estas mamadas? I’m just ovulating.

[maykop1010]

Oh, you’re still on this? Talk about obsessed. Alright, let’s go.

First off, you’re doing a lot of mental gymnastics to avoid one simple truth: what’s happening in Gaza is genocide. You can spin it however you like, but redefining terms or adding caveats doesn’t change what’s right in front of us, an apartheid state systematically destroying an entire people. That’s not “urban warfare.” That’s ethnic cleansing.

And your little rant about me “obsessing” over the word genocide when Jews are involved? Spare me your weak ass attempt at deflection. Criticizing a government’s actions, like Israel’s, is not antisemitism. But calling out apartheid, war crimes, and genocide specifically when they’re excused or ignored? Yeah, that’s going to get attention, because people like you keep justifying it.

Now, your obsession with “spaceship”? Seriously get a fucking grip. You keep bringing up this imaginary person like a boogeyman you can’t get over. Sorry to burst your bubble, but there’s more than one person who sees through your bullshit. Maybe your talking points are just that bad.

Let me spell it out for you: I don’t give a fuck who’s committing genocide. Be it Israel, China, Russia, or anyone else, I’ll call it out. But the difference is that Israel silences any criticism by crying antisemitism. That’s the unique part. That’s why people are speaking up. Which honestly abhorrent, given that real antisemitism is disgusting.

Your problem isn’t with the use of the word genocide. Your problem is people calling out Israel’s government. And that says a hell of a lot more about you than it does about me.

So keep screeching at me about “spaceship” and I’m a Nazi cunt (my all time fav screeched at me by genocidal supporters like you), antisemitic, if it makes you feel better. All you’re doing is proving my point: you’ll twist any narrative to defend war crimes and genocide as long as Israel’s government is the one committing them.

Oh, by the way, let me know what you’re doing for the people of Gaza, the ones starving, the ones whose babies are freezing to death because, you know, the “beacon of democracy” won’t allow blankets or food in. Let me know what you’re doing to help Palestinians in the West Bank and Jerusalem currently living under apartheid. And please, do tell me what you’re doing to support Palestinian children as young as 11 who are held in military prisons without due process, subjected to torture, abuse, and rape.

Are you part of any solidarity or advocacy campaigns for the Uyghurs and other Turkic peoples being persecuted in China? Have you raised your voice for the Rohingya refugees, or taken part in any boycotts against the UAE for its brutal funding of the civil war in Sudan?

What about the children in the DRC, forced to dig cobalt with their bare hands? Did you by chance raise the alarm or boycott Israeli billionaire Dan Gertler, whose operations have been documented to violate human rights, including child labor and exploitation?

Have you done anything to support the peoples of the Caucasus who continue to suffer torture, disappearances, sexual violence, and discrimination at the hands of Russia?

Were you part of any of the thousands of protests against Assad’s regime for its barbaric acts, or did you happen to help provide food, shelter, and clothing for the Syrian families fleeing that nightmare?

Say, have you spoken up for Israeli women? Israel consistently ranks the highest in West Asia for documented cases of rape and sexual assault. In 2023 alone, 55,044 reports were filed with crisis centers, 17,484 of them new complaints. Over 80% of these cases were closed without indictments, “indicating issues with the legal process” while one in five women in Israel report being raped in their lifetime. In fact, the APCCI said “that the rate of violent sexual offenses in Israel was 10 percent higher than the average for Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) countries, labeling it as an "epidemic."

Have you by chance advocated on behalf of migrant workers in Saudi Arabia, many of whom endure conditions akin to modern slavery? Or supported Saudi women fighting for equal rights?

But please, keep screeching at me with the same tired talking points. Keep dodging Israel’s human rights violations, ethnic cleansing, and genocide. Your deflections only confirm what I already know.

The right hates Jews because the right are bigots. The left hates Jews because Jews are bigots!!!

Seriously Jews, it’s you. It’s not us it’s you!! Y’all treat all us “goyim” like trash and then act surprised when we don’t want to be around you. Then you commit a genocide against the Palestinians and act like the victims when people protest it!!

JEWS!!! IT IS TIME FOR YOU TO UNPACK YOUR BIGOTRIES!!!

[keepthedelta]

Hi Delta, what do you mean that Lewis was always more weirder about Nico during their careers? Because I totally agree with you. My older brother, who was quite into F1 since early 2010, used to tell me about these two, who were not teammates but were always together. Nowadays, he is not so into the sport anymore. He says there is no passion and the drivers play too much PR.

okay it's a totally personal opinion, but when you look at their actions when they were racing and after nico's retirement, i think lewis is the one who comes across as a bit weirder. it's stuff like the whole "i don't remember when i met nico that's the sort of thing you remember about your lady" thing, even though he had literally already written it in his book. it's the fact that when things first started getting nasty between them, nico's media line was "yes, there will always be a certain level of respect rooted in that friendship" while lewis went "well we're not friends". and after lewis said that, iirc there was a journalist that asked about their history together and lewis got very quiet and a bit lost and a bit emotional and didn't really have an answer. there was a time when lewis was asked by a journalist how he and nico had changed since they were children, and lewis said "well he's married now" (he did also follow that up with and i'm almost married, so i think some of it was about nicole scherzinger, but i think it's interesting that his response was about their personal lives).

and i think the way lewis has defined their relationship over the years is interesting. he's gone from talking about nico in his book to pretending he doesn't remember how they met to saying they're not friends to saying they were best friends to saying they were never friends. the story has changed so many times from him, while nico has generally been quite consistent about it. and although people think of nico as the one who can't stop talking about their relationship now, when they were racing together, lewis was the one largely defining the relationship to the media. nico mostly stuck to pr line "it's complicated" etc. while lewis was telling them that nico watched him swim in the pool and then came down to talk to him. and while this is something that had definitely happened at some point (i think they mentioned it in 2013), i personally have my doubts that it happened in 2016. lewis said that to the media just after baku i believe, which was where he fucked his quali astronomically and destroyed his drivers room he was so annoyed with himself. niki lauda said that they were barely talking and wouldn't even say the others name in the garage, so while it's very possible that they were trying to ignore each other at work and being desperately weird at home, i think it's equally possible that lewis was making the whole thing up to make the relationship seem better than it was (but also in a way that positioned nico as the weird one).

and then there's all the ways lewis tries not to say nico's name or acknowledge their friendship. when he was talking about coming to monaco for the first time on some british tv show he said he came to visit "a frien - someone i used to kn - a friend". like, someone is clearly not over that whole relationship. and when talking about having harder teammates than max verstappen, he can mention george and valtteri and jenson and fernando, all people he's beaten, but not the only teammate to beat him to a championship? and his excuse of "oh i've just had so many teammates" well you managed to name everyone except nico and lets face it that was not an accident. he put effort into not saying nico's name, and not talking about their relationship. meanwhile nico can say that they're neutral and that lewis gives his daughters presents at christmas because he has totally accepted their relationship and their history for what it is in a way that i don't think lewis has.

and i do agree with your brother, there's way too much pr now. i don't need the drivers to be physically fighting each other on the track but i think the way everyone has to pretend to be best friends is frustrating. it's a sport, and these are competitors, and if the fans are expected to have sports feelings about it then the actual athletes are also going to have sports feelings about their own careers. pretending otherwise is both boring, and almost insulting to the viewer. i know it's for marketing purposes, but most of the people watching are adults who can conceptualise people in competition with each other, even if they're on the same team, not being best friends.

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Last Airbender fans try to not be ablest pieces of shit when trying to defend not casting a blind actress for Toph challenge (impossible).

[bardicious]

I think it's a bit ridiculous that anyone other than Dean and Sam themselves (cause of their insane guilt complexes) would count opening the gates of hell as their fault. Like... here are these two ghost hunters, way over there heads in the demon department, doing their best to keep not only their remaining friends and family alive, but humanity in general, they're getting manipulated left and right by demons because they have no information otherwise, and yet they still found the location of hell's gates and closed it, when the actual person at fault (Jake Talley) opened them, and closed them as best they could.

That's while being attacked by the yellow eyed demon. Like? The only reason they didn't shoot Jake to begin with is because of Sam's humanity, and Ellen being in danger. How would this in any way be categorized as their fault?

[katyspersonal]

Lrb dear god, this reminded me of that time when Alfred-chan got sooooo mad at my post explaining why fans should respect bisexual headcanons for Maria and Malenia instead of pretending like they're canonically lesbians and that they get oppressed and erased by mxf ships with them. They kept vagueing that post for like a MONTH in their blog including in tags under reblogs of Maria fanart, passively-aggressively changed their url to character+sexuality to "spite" me and then even made a sockpuppet account to start shit with me in the comments.

They deactivated when me and Val completely obliterated their "you cultivate lesbiphobic following by telling people why they should respect all sexuality headcanons instead of acting cultish or assuming their experiences and stereotypes equal canon confirmation" garbage with actual facts and logic tho but I screenshotted everything fjthfgfj (I learned to document everything the hard way after they've changed the she/they pronouns to they/they pronouns ONLY to accuse me of misgendering, so thank you for making me wiser I guess 😎). Even more vile, as they, a white person, larped as an Arab in that sockpuppet to hold even MORE "privilege" against me in discussion gjtjfh Because for them race, gender or sexuality are just badges of honor and dishonor, they don't see these as traits of actual human beings. And Dr Eugene X, who worked with them and weaponized her race to accuse everyone who disagreed with her of racism, didn't bat an eye at such a terrible act too?? As usual, rules are not for their friends, lol

It is not even the worst thing Alfred did, and yet all of this just, just, JUST because I wrote a point on why bisexual headcanon people did nothing wrong and there is no ground to claim something is canon when it isn't. 🤦‍♂️ Like, they were soooo convinced that I hated lesbian headcanons and that I'd feel angry if they called Lady Maria a lesbian, when what I was angry at is this exact toxic behavior in the fandom. No matter how much you like a headcanon, don't be a bitch about it. Maria doesn't """belong""" to any gender or sexuality, she belongs to anyone who likes her and is invested in her complexity as a character!!!

Yet, apparently, common Malenia simps / Finlay shippers are no better than common Maria simps / Mariadeline shippers. Just, wild how after shit like this, many people have the guts to claim that it is "sexist redditbros" who are the biggest problem of creators in the fandom. 🤦‍♂️ They'd actually blush if they encountered what such self-proclaimed "feminists" do to their own (!!!) over headcanons. 🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️

[thatpurpledudetrey]

nesta literally telling feyre that shes going to fucking died from the babe in an unpleasant way is literally just an argumental point for rhys stans to use to cover up the fact he LITERALLY hide a medical information from feyre?!?!?!? bro HE was the on who started this shit not fucking nesta????

it was rhysand's fault, he started this shit by being a stupid bitch who decided to not tell feyre

[notbeyondbirthday]

If I see another liberal downplaying how much of a ghoul Biden is compared to the ~insurrectionist cheeto~ I'm choosing violence. You can't even bring yourself to condemn a man bankrolling, arming and running defense for a GENOCIDE past 'he's not the best guy'??? Are you fucking kidding me? When you talk like this, you reveal exactly what it is you actually care about and what it is you're willing to fight for and what you're willing to give up.

If you use this softball, dismissive language to DANCE around the fact that this man is a fucking MONSTER because you're terrified of making him look bad compared to Trump (as if THAT'S what's gonna make him lose the election) then you've made the Palestinian people your sacrificial fucking lambs. You've confirmed that you'll NEVER hold this empire accountable if your personal safety and comfort is at risk.

We knew that already, of course. You're just finally saying the quiet part out loud.

[deadrlngers]

finally manifested what i think suits best violante for her let's say epilogue and it's her saying yes to gale's marriage proposal but chickening out so hard that she disappears without a word and settles down somewhere quiet with so many silly little animals with shadowheart, yuri won

[mymarifae]

only on tumblr do you get people so absorbed in their toxic online echo chambers that they think killing animals is no big deal and that posting about incest and pedophilia and shit is “fine” because it’s all “fictional” and “fiction has no bearing on reality” and “i’m a victim of these things so it’s cool for me to ‘cope’ by consuming this content and i’m totally not normalizing and excusing its existence”

[ifyourereadingthisblinktwice]

i need to stop forgetting things exist the fucking second they leave my field of vision. why is is impossible for two things to occupy my mind at once especially when im tired. like. i feel like a sim. i feel like actions are being canceled and i just. move on. and completely forget what i was doing moments before. i fucking hate it

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

okay so i tend to work out my aus best when i think about them like a story so Step One: where the fuck do we start.

jaiden's pov. ofc. maybe alternating chapters. i think it would be mildly confusing until the reader realized that Jaiden Rogue and Jaiden Weapon were the alternating chapters and they were getting alternate viewpoints- one of her Descent, and one of her Ascent.

the descent chapters would be her turning into the sort of person who would follow orders to hurt an egg. her being lead by cucurucho to the living weapon program and being "deceived" by it by fully knowing what it wanted from her. making that choice to drown herself and emerge as someone -something- new. these chapters would Also address the problem that is jaiden becoming so brainwashed that she does whatever the federation wants instead of what she would have wanted, and hurting an egg (probably something via kidnapping/accidental injury she doesn't give a shit about. classic federation egg opinions). also she would have a subtext feud with badboyhalo. it would be the fucking- the annoyance that keeps her connected. the feds dont want her to fuck with him but he keeps fucking with her mission so she's annoyed when he shows up. like she never does anything outward to indicate this feud but there's the Recognition and the aww man not this guy again. the proof that she failed to remake herself because even with mission success she's still like aw MAN fuck that guy. she's still, infuriatingly, more than a tool.

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

I will never understand why some people feel the need to defend the indefensible.

[philtatosbuck]

if you Genuinely think that john b’s hatred of ward and “lack of understanding” about ward and sarah’s relationship has to do with him not caring about sarah vs him thinking ward literally murdered his fucking father and then actually framed him for murder and the fact he’s a grown man regularly terrorizing the only family john b has left besides his father i literally do not know what to tell you besides seek help

[meowthiroth]

sure is getting scary for a trans person to just Exist rn, huh

[dashiellqvverty]

didn’t think i’d find a “i’m truly horrified by the fact that someone is okay with not just writing but publicly posting this” fic in the fucking. r/oyjam/ie tedlasso tag of all things but here we are. i genuinely feel a little fucking sick over it.