I’m not a “will help, no questions asked” kind of friend. Because I will ask questions. I’m just not gonna question your answers. Like yeah if we’re friends I can help you get rid of a body, no problem, but I still want to know who it was and what happened. Not because I don’t trust that you’d kill someone who didn’t need killing or would help someone you shouldn’t be helping - we wouldn’t be friends in the first place if I didn’t know you well enough to trust your judgement. I’m just curious as hell and I want to know things.
ever since the costume designer revealed that ilya is wearing rick owens in the tuna melt scene its all i can think about while im watching it. let me put my rick owens on for this. hand down the front of my rick owens cradling my half chub. frotting in my rick owens. cum cooling on my rick owens while the love of my life rejects me. dejectedly sitting on the couch covered in cum. in my rick owens
“Rich kids should go to public schools. The mayor should ride the subway to work. When wealthy people get sick, they should be sent to public hospitals. Business executives should have to stand in the same airport security lines as everyone else. The very fact that people want to buy their way out of all of these experiences points to the reason why they shouldn’t be able to. Private schools and private limos and private doctors and private security are all pressure release valves that eliminate the friction that would cause powerful people to call for all of these bad things to get better. The degree to which we allow the rich to insulate themselves from the unpleasant reality that others are forced to experience is directly related to how long that reality is allowed to stay unpleasant. When they are left with no other option, rich people will force improvement in public systems. Their public spirit will be infinitely less urgent when they are contemplating these things from afar than when they are sitting in a hot ER waiting room for six hours themselves.”
i feel. like on a fundamental level. i do not understand x reader fic. i am not exactly opposed to it because let a thousand blossoms bloom etc. but like. i genuinely don’t get it. it seems like the exact opposite of how i engage with fiction. like the whole point is that i’m not in there. i don’t wanna be in there. if i’m in there it’s going to be very stressful.
