#MANY kinds of people need closed captioning for many reasons

[cy-cyborg]

Please stop giving your leg amputees weird robot toes. I don't know why this is as much if a pet peeve to me as it is, but there's a reason why even the most advanced prosthetics irl don't have them and its not because the tech isnt there yet (kind of).

Making that many joints so close together is very difficult and will make the foot increadibly heavy for function that can mostly be replicated by a sheet of bendy carbon fibre (what irl prosthetic feet are usually made of). That many articulated joints are hard to control (even on hands, it's a challenge, and your hands dont have to weight bare), they will add a lot of weight, and will mean more power will be needed. Not to mention the joints would be points of weakness in an area that will be, at some stages in the walk cycle, bearing the majority of user's weight. Unless your character is going to be using their prosthetic feet as hands to grab things like that villain from Kim Possible, they are more trouble than they're worth, and your character doesn't need them.

And look, if the reason you want to give them robot toes is because you have a thing for feet... why did you make them a foot amputee, of all disabilities lol? Odd choices aside, if that's the reason, just be honest about it, because why else is it always "sexy cyborg" type characters that have them?

Joking aside, the goal of a prosthetic is not (usually) to look as similar to "the real thing" as possible, it's to improve mobility. As such, sometimes the best solution will not be what looks the most "normal with a robot aesthetic twist". In the event looking like the real thing is the main goal, we already have the tech for that. Many prosthetics have silicone covers that look so realistic you wouldn't be able to tell unless you can see the top of the socket (where the artificial limb meets the real thing) and you don't have to give up much mobility or functionality to use them, since that carbon fibre sheet I mention just gets hidden inside the cover.

Signed an amputee who finds your pudgy little foot fingers unsettling and wishes people would stop giving robot ones to characters unnecessarily for the sake of making something that looks "normal".

[ID: an animated gif of a character from Kim Possible in a red dressing gown, using his hand-like feet to pour himself some tea. he places the tea pot down and it focuses on his hands, in a close up. the caption reads "and risk damaging these hands?" /end ID]

[deadcrowcalling]

serious-er topic than normal dudes, dudettes, and everybody else (there needs to be a gender neutral dude. dudenby?

•subtitles, closed captions, and open captions aren't the same thing.

subtitles exist for the purpose of conveying the dialogue of a movie/show/video. you can change the language (usually) and turn them on and off at will. these are typically boxes at the bottom of the screen with words. they can be used for translation, to better understand speech, etc. subtitles aren't always reliable at conveying the dialogue accurately, and can be delayed or too fast in accordance to the video. you can use subtitles to know what is being said.

closed captions identify the speaker, dialogue, and any noise. they follow along all the audio and if it's something spoken, who says it (usually). these are also typically boxes at the bottoms of the screen with words. these can be used to understand all the audio, translate, etc. closed captions aren't always reliable in conveying the audio correctly, and can be delayed or too fast in accordance to the video. you can use closed captions to know everything that is going on involving sound.

open captions are like closed captions. they were established for the same purpose. you cannot turn open captions on and off. they are a part of the video, the creator purposefully put them there, most likely for accessibility purposes. these, most of the time, convey all audio and are pretty accurate, and are synchronized with the video. these often are just words on the screen, usually in a contrasting color than the background.

all can be used for accessibility reasons or not, but open captions are the better of the three.

i am not hard of hearing or d/Deaf. i do struggle understanding sound clearly due to ADHD. i always have on closed captions because i can't understand speech clearly often, and struggle with focusing on one sound when there are many going on (for example, if i'm in a loud room, i can't just turn the volume up. that does nothing for me but make the confusion louder.)

people with any sort of hearing impairment (hearing loss, APD, neurodivergent related hearing issues, etc) prefer and/or need written audio like these things provide. open captions are the most optimal, and should be in more movies, shows, videos, etc. i understand not all people need or want them, but countless people do. if you make videos or things like that of any kind, please consider adding open captions for the sake of people with hearing impairments.

even if you don't, and you read all this, thanks :) this took a long time to type and it's just good info to know.

[accio-victuuri]

11/19/23 updates cpn 🎂🍦🍪

for some reason, today, both of them decided to share on their social media. for wyb, it’s his douyin. for gg it’s weibo + douyin. xzs also posted on their weibo. they didn’t even bother splitting it up like one will post in the morning and the other afternoon/evening. nope. it’s all in the same afternoon.

we were hoping for some 24 hr relay, but these gremlins are like nope. we will just post very closely to each other. for wyb it’s definitely a part of his homework completion. lol. and the fact that he is wearing something evisu related again. how many things did he do during this shoot? 😂 as for ZZ, it seems like he is trying to catch up too? ( douyin stuff are from yuguyao promotion ) nonetheless, we are happy to get stock content.

doing this made them both go on HS. i love seeing their names on HS for stuff like this. (?FYI for wyb it’s more of the “cross dressing” meaning switching clothes.)

now let’s see what else is there….

1. The same use of emojis as captions on there douyin posts as if they really have no time to think of even a word or line to use. lol. tho this kind of caption is not exclusive to them, it’s just nice to see them matching like this on the same day.

2. There are a couple of guesses on what they are “celebrating” today ; what could possibly be the reason for doing this specifically on the 19th.

(p1) it’s wyb’s 105th post on douyin. 10.5 which represents zz’s birthday, so it’s special. that’s why they both posted today. (p2) the day zz shared his japan trip. i think this doesn’t need any more explanation, japan trip cpn is notorious on this fandom. (

(p3 and p4) this one is kind of reaching but it’s one of those 2020 candies that i love and it happened around this time too. 11/18 - 11/19 it was speculated that they spent time together. for those who were here during that time, WYB shared a video (11/20) of him skating and his caption was like i wish i could go skating everyday and then the three dots. WYB loves skateboarding and i don’t doubt that he wishes he can play everyday, but the cpn-colored glasses is wondering if what he is really talking about is skateboarding. or maybe, maybe he was wishing he could spend time with GG everyday or more often. and the three dots, which in turtledom means i miss you just adds fuel to this CPN. The penguin photo was shared by XZ on 11/18 and it’s a piece that people are adding, it is making the heart gesture and could be because XZ is happy to be with WYB.

There is a CPN timeline from that period in 2020 so lemme just refresh people’s memories even if it’s totally irrelevant ( probably ) to this post. I love myself some cpn archaeology. 🔍

11/17 was luoyang opening ceremony so he was kinda busy here but they still got to spend time together. In hindsight, this is very telling, cause there was some heavy speculation that GG was present during Luoyang presscon. If he was there during the opening ceremony for the filming, he might have been introduced to select cast and crew. So it was easier for him to tag along for the press con before the official release cause he knows the people. 11/19 was the release of the wolf and WYB attended the chanel x vogue event. 11/22 GG released a douyin video and we CPN about the curtains and how it’s similar to one of Bobo’s. Again, hotel curtains are not the most reliable measure, i know, but that’s how CPNs work.

11/25, YBO posted alluding to the douban issue of downvoting works. basically manipulating data — look at YBO calling out this practice years before, they know how unreliable DB is. everyone knows. the point is, around this time, The Wolf was getting downvoted by antis.

11/29, an episode of TTXS was aired where WYB said “i can’t give up what i like”. A sentiment that is true in everything he does, from dancing to his other hobbies. No matter how hard it is and even if it seems like everything is against him, he will not give up. The same is true (probably ) with his relationships. 🤍 this episode was filmed 11/22 which was very close to when they allegedly spent time together so the feeling is there ( and there is a whole different cpn for that day too lol ).

In 2019, GG’s Bazaar promo was release where he said that he saw his love in a dream ( i don’t think this needs any explanation ) and 2021 they also posted around the same time and both are transitions.

This is all guess work, they could be posting for the simple reason of KPI or their studios scrambling to get their bosses to be visible online 😂😂😂 BUT THE POINT IS, there seems to be significant things happening during this time and always including 11/19 between them. ✨ It fits the pattern we have been seeing for years.

3. WYB’s 105th post on Douyin and GG’s 1050 post on Weibo. 🤡🤡🤡

4. The use of a light in their hands as an element to their post. For WYB it’s a transition to change clothes and for GGs it’s more of a sunshine/light.

They share the same brain cell. Lol. and BXGs are so good cause there is already an art for it.

5. I love how XZ was like i don’t wanna be doing this while filming the Douyin. goes to show what happens behind the scenes and how similar he & WYB are. in the video, XZ was asking his staff “is this viral?” and they respond with “really viral” and he proceeds to make faces like he can’t believe 🤣🤣🤣 If he only knew, the most random things go viral. and he probably didn’t want to do it cause it had the cute vibe to it.

Similar to WYB, he prefers the cool transitions and he is someone who will not be willing to do a douyin trend. Both of them would rather share things they love like photos of places or their hobbies.

The lyrics for GG’s video is:

oh no oh no i haven’t talked to my baobei

baobei, what are you doing?

muah are you there? are you asleep?

baobei, what are you doing?

why aren’t you replying?”

Going by the theme of the song, missing someone, his baobei who is not replying lol is this a shout out to WYB? 😅

Anyway, it’s being linked to WYB’s post. The whole transition with the phone light he is doing was said to be popular in 2021. There is a couple version, which means two people are doing it and the BGM used is a song i will still miss you.

Looking at the lyrics, I understand why he didn’t use it and went with the cool tune instead. It’s a bittersweet song and about missing because the couple grew apart. WYB still wants to match the missing theme but probably scrapped it cause GG’s is more on the cute type of missing someone. 🙃

6. Going back to the Japan Trip, their posts seem to echo that time. 11/19/2018.

From WYB’s use of his phone and the shot. To XZ’s most obvious posting on the same day and SAME TIME 🤯🤯🤯

THIS IS WHY JAPAN CPN WILL FOREVER BE RELEVANT!!!!!! Happy 5th anniversary i guess! 💟 Dude I can’t fuckin believe Xiao Zhan did this the fuck he is insane for this.

7. In usual turtle clowning fashion, some of em commented xz or wyb’s photo on their douyin. These might be buried now cause solos are doing the most to make sure the top posts are theirs.

-END.

Disclaimer: this is all CPN. meaning, it is interpretation/speculation from a cpf’s perspective and uses lots of symbolism and past events that are known and understood by cpn-inclined turtles. this is not the place to wash things cause again, it’s all cpn anyway. I don’t make these posts to be picked apart, it is for fun and to enjoy. Okay? Okay. If you wanna complain, do it on your own blog.

[givemea-dam-break]

the calm before the storm

☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ in which circumstances pull two souls apart

pairing: anthony lockwood x (fem) reader

a/n: the angst queen is back. no apologies. i was craving writing another luke castellan fic, but decided it was about time i came back to the hyperfixation that began about this time last year (happy one year lockwood and co!!) so surprise!!! i'm not sorry for this, just so you know. enjoy!

warnings: canon typical violence, descriptions of murder, angst (as always)

words: 4.7K

taglist: @irisesforyoureyes @neewtmas @wellgoslowly @waitingforthesunrise @oblivious-idiot @jesslockwood @magicandmaybe @gotlostinfiction @ettadear @locklylemybeloved @aayeroace @mischiefmanaged71 @mirrorballdickinson @ikeasupremacy

☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎

01. the calm

There was a certain kind of peace when it came to 35 Portland Row at night.

The way the fire flickered, casting the library in a golden-orange glow and filling it with cosy warmth. How the kitchen always smelled like whatever wonderful meal George had made earlier in the day. The sound of the crackling fire and pages brushing against each other and creaky floorboards. They all compiled together to make it feel like home.

(y/n) sat curled up on one of the library’s armchairs, nose buried in one of the aged books. A steaming cup of tea sat on the coffee table beside a pile of senseless magazines - Lockwood’s guilty pleasure. He was thumbing his way through one just at that moment, and the cover - an edited photo of Penelope Fittes and Steve Rotwell with a big, bold-lettered caption “Inside the minds of the most treasured people in Britain!” - told her everything she needed to know. 

“That stuff is going to rot your brain,” she murmured, turning the page of her book. “I don’t know how you can stand reading that gossip.”

Lockwood, still looking at the magazine before him, shot her a sideways grin. “You just don’t appreciate today’s culture.”

A laugh bubbled from her lips. “I appreciate it plenty when I’m not under threat of death from ghosts. I mean, seriously. How many times can you read about what colour dress Penelope Fittes wore to a gala, or the stupid things all those snotty old rich people keep saying?”

“You have to admit, they’re a little bit funny.”

“It’s funny how stupid the things they say are.”

Lockwood rolled his eyes, dog-earing a page before closing the magazine and setting it down atop the already massive pile. His head tilted as he looked over at her, face cast in that same golden-orange hue that basked the room. He looked positively ethereal.

“I have read plenty of books, too, you know,” he said, still smiling. “I just don’t find them as interesting.”

Raising an eyebrow, (y/n) slipped her tattered bookmark between the pages of her book, balancing it on the arm of her chair. She twisted slightly so that she could look at him in the other armchair.

“Have you ever considered joining a gossip circle?” she asked. “You know, the kind where all those old women meet up in a cafe and have a little blether about their drama? You’d fit right in. Have half of them charmed within minutes.”

His smile changed, then, shifting into the exact kind she had imagined him using to get into a little gossip session. “You think so?”

She snorted, trying to ignore the flutter in her stomach. “Without a doubt. You’d have them convinced that, because Penelope wore a green dress to a gala and Steve Rotwell had a green tie, there is some kind of secret relationship between them. Secretly married, or some bosh like that.”

“Well,” Lockwood drawled, “just as well one of us has the skill of charm. If it were you doing interviews, we’d have no clients.”

She swept his magazine off the table and thwacked his arm with it. “If there was no one here to keep you alive, there’d be no business.”

He laughed then, and the sound was like music to her ears. If it was something she could bottle, she’d have a thousand vials of it collected. She could listen to him laugh all day, especially if she was the reason for such a beautiful sound.

With a playful kind of annoyance, she tossed the magazine back on the table. She might have imagined it, but Lockwood watched the movement with eagle-like attention, as if studying every move she made. Every face she pulled. The thought had her heart pounding a little faster.

“I wouldn’t be surprised by that idea, by the way.”

“What?” (y/n) tilted her head. “You being dead without me to save your ass? It’s a proven statement.”

Once more, he rolled his eyes. His smile would have buckled her knees had she been standing. “No. Penelope and Steve being secretly married. I’m going to cop that idea now. Just in case it’s true.”

“As long as I get the credit.”

“Always.”

02. before

“Another murder? Lockwood, do you ever think of broadening your horizons?”

Lockwood grinned, spreading out a few pages from different newspapers in front of him. “We seem to specialise in them. How many murdered ghosts have we successfully contained? Besides, the murderer of this one is unknown. I thought it’d be a fun challenge to see if we could figure out the perpetrator.”

“We have extremely different definitions of fun,” (y/n) grumbled, flipping open a folder full of dated documents. “Don’t you fancy something less… brutal? Someone who died of old age, maybe?”

“Boring,” he said, drawing out the vowels. “We’re Lockwood and Co! How else do we get in the papers without something like a murder?”

She watched the way his eyes seemed to gleam with a strange sort of joy and shook her head, holding back a smile. They most definitely had different definitions of fun. 

“Maybe we can bake some really nice cakes,” she suggested. “Donate money to help stop homelessness? End world hunger?”

His smile then was so beautiful that it stole the breath from her lungs. “While those are wonderful suggestions - I do particularly like the thought of cakes - I think we can do much better by getting rid of some ghosts. Now! What have you found?”

They went on like that for a few more hours, passing taunts back and forth while noting down any points of interest from their research. Really, it would have been more beneficial to have George researching with them - he made sense of all the big, fancy words and mixed-up dates - but he was researching his own case with Lucy. 

It was an interesting case, that much she had to give to Lockwood. A woman, named Fearne Watson, who had been killed in her home a mere four years prior, whose body was not found for another two days when her neighbour had come to drop off some food she had baked for her. Police had flooded the scene and all of the journalists from popular news sources managed to squeeze their way in, getting all the details they could wring out of anybody, including the poor neighbour. (y/n) could remember seeing a glimpse of it on the news, sitting in her mother’s living room, waiting for her father to come home from work. The body had been sealed in one of those black body bags. There was caution tape everywhere, tape that journalists and paparazzi seemed to ignore.

Her family had been interviewed, each of them grieving harder than the last. It was hard to read their heartfelt words. Her sister, who had practically raised her during their childhood while their single mother worked multiple jobs, was by far the most emotional. It was even worse seeing photos of her attendance at the funeral - her pure devastation at a private memorial being disrupted by paparazzi.

What had seemed like at least half of London’s population had ganged up on the press, after that. Some smaller companies were thrown out of business.

The biggest mystery of it all had been the murderer. Whoever had committed it had covered their tracks well: nobody had seen anyone in the home with the victim - though they had not been paying much attention, therefore it had been partially investigated - nor had they seen anybody leave. No weapon was left behind, which was no matter because, as it was later revealed, Fearne had not been killed with a weapon.

The autopsy reports had not been released to the public, but Lockwood’s charm and (y/n)’s bare-faced insistence managed to garner them the second-last piece to the puzzle. 

“Hemlock poisoning,” (y/n) murmured. “What year are we in? 1623? Don’t people usually use, what, paracetamol nowadays?”

Lockwood’s eyes flitted over the document, trying to absorb as much information as possible. If DEPRAC found out they had weaselled their way into getting their hands on it, there would be trouble. They had a very limited amount of time with it.

“Would’ve been a painful death, I imagine,” he said. “It’s a paralytic - says here she died from suffocation. Her respiratory system was paralysed after her muscles seized, also paralysed.”

She shuddered, taking the sheet of paper when he offered it to her. It wasn’t long before she had to pass it back, insanely disturbed.

“You sure know how to pick a belter of a case,” she mumbled. “Next time, take George with you.”

He only smiled, more reassuring than anything else, and reached over, squeezing her hand. Sparks coursed through her veins at the touch, and she looked up at him, melting at the way he looked at her. 

“We’ll be okay,” he promised. “We have each other.”

A smile curved her lips, and she squeezed his hand back. “Always.”

03. the storm

The chains were heavy in her hands, cold enough that the skin of her fingers and palms were beginning to hurt. The house itself was not cold quite yet, but iron had that effect.

Lockwood stared down at his thermometer before nodding. (y/n), gratefully, began laying down the chains in a circle, closing the ends in on each other. Lockwood set a lantern down in the centre but didn’t turn it on just yet.

“Eight degrees,” he said. “You ready?”

She pursed her lips, nodding. 

“No sympathising with visitors this time,” he added, and while there was a smile curling his lips, she could feel the seriousness in his statement. She did have a history of it.

The house’s living room was large enough to fit two three-seater sofas, as well as a dining table tucked under the back window with six chairs. The walls were a dingy shade of beige. A large patterned rug, red as blood, covered a good portion of the dark wood floor. With a thumping heart, she knelt down and lifted up a small corner of the rug.

She took a deep breath, willing her heart to slow its beating. Nothing good would come from being in a panic. The slight tremor in her hands ceased. She was a well-versed agent, this was nothing! She had helped solve the mystery of Combe Carey Hall. She had solved dozens upon dozens of cases. One more murder was nothing.

But, as she pressed her hand flat against part of the floor, stained slightly darker than the rest, it became clear that she was wrong.

Time seemed to swell around her, spinning and spinning until she was crouched in a brighter version of the house. A version without the big rug and the dining table beneath the window. The walls were a beautiful shade of duck-egg blue. Photos hung in simple white frames, plants were dotted around the room in pots shaped like cats and hedgehogs and dinosaurs.

Music played softly, a song (y/n) recognised as one her mother used to listen to while she still lived at home. Someone was humming along.

A woman swept into view, one she recognised from the newspapers that did not do her beauty justice.

Fearne Watson’s auburn hair was swept over her shoulder in loose waves, glowing like fire in the sunlight. She had blue eyes that were ever-smiling, and her freckled cheeks were rosy. She was no older than twenty-five.

Another voice could be heard, feminine and soft. She was singing along to the song while Fearne mimicked the instruments. (y/n)’s parents had often done the same.

The second woman came into view, and (y/n) couldn’t help but smile. Her sister, Dahlia, brushed over, gently taking Fearne’s hands in hers. They spun for a few moments, dancing along to the song. When it ended, they laughed and laughed, sipping from delicate teacups.

“Mm! What kind of tea is this?” Fearne asked, smiling. “Tastes very floral. It’s not jasmine, is it?”

Dahlia smiled, too, watching her sister with soft eyes. “Something like that.”

A terrible feeling began to settle in (y/n)’s bones. The thoughts building in the back of her mind began to come to fruition, and as she watched, she could feel her blood running cold. There was a terrible, nauseous lump in her throat. The police had thought nobody had been home with Fearne.

Fearne’s hand brushed her throat lightly. There was a faint sheen on her brow. “Did you add parsley to this? It’s got a bit of a weird taste.”

Her sister merely shook her head. She had not drank any of her tea.

“Dal, this - this doesn’t taste right.”

Dahlia tilted her head just so slightly. She did not seem concerned. “Oh?”

It was then that it began. The drawn-out death.

Fearne’s skin took on a pale tint, coated in a layer of sweat. The teacup dropped from her hand, smashing on the hardwood floor. Dahlia swept it up, disposing of it in the bin beside the sofa. She watched her sister closely, bright eyes narrowed as Fearne’s limbs took on a rigid look. She slumped on the sofa, panic flaring in her eyes.

She was struggling to speak, lips coated in her own saliva. She managed one word. “Why?”

Dahlia did not respond to her question. “Hemlock tastes very similar to parsley,” she murmured, standing as her sister began shaking, trying to suck in as much air as she could. “It was a shame things ended like this.”

The question, Why? hung in the air, unanswered. But the glaring look in Dahlia’s eyes revealed truer feelings than she had expressed in interviews. She resented her sister. Wholly and irrevocably. Why exactly she hated her was left a mystery hidden by a cruel smile.

(y/n) was torn from the vision as Fearne’s face began to turn purple, her lungs failing. She was saved from the horror of watching her die.

Lockwood was crouched in front of her when the present world began to melt back around her, his copper-and-caramel eyes taking the place of the sofa Fearne’s body had slumped upon.

His hands were on her face, warm and calloused. “You okay?” he asked gently. “Need any water?”

She shook her head, goosebumps rising across the skin of her arms. “It was her sister.”

“What?” Lockwood frowned, hands slipping from her cheeks to rest on the skin between her shoulders and neck. His touch made her shiver. “The newspapers -”

“They got it wrong,” she said. There was a bitter taste in her mouth. “She - she put hemlock in their tea. She murdered her own sister. She lied to the journalists. I can’t even begin to understand -”

Her voice fell flat. In some space in the back of her mind, she was vaguely aware of Lockwood speaking, trying to draw her attention back to him, but all she could focus on were the whispers. The glow.

A few feet behind Lockwood, there was a faint shimmer in the air, akin to how heat shimmered above pavements in summer. But this was all wrong. This was the dead end of winter. This was inside a house, where that kind of heat didn’t appear anywhere but the oven. This shimmer was glowing.

At first, it was no more than that - a shimmer - but the features soon developed. Long auburn hair. Freckled cheeks. Down-turned eyes and a wide nose bridge. 

“Fearne…”

Lockwood’s hands were on her face again, trying to get her to look at him. “What? (y/n), talk to me.”

Dahlia, said the apparition with such spite that (y/n) could taste it. Bitter and pungent and poisonous. Dahlia.

She sounded out the name as if speaking to a child and teaching them syllables. Her very voice, strained of air and yet still, somehow, melodic, had her frozen on the spot.

“Fearne,” she uttered again. She could not move.

Perhaps had she not felt such sympathy for their visitor's circumstance, she would not have found herself ghost-locked. Perhaps she would have been standing already, rapier in one hand and a salt bomb in the other, prepared to hold her off whilst Lockwood found her source. Or, no, really it would be the other way around - Lockwood would never let her fight a ghost on her own, his pride and needless urge to protect were a killer. So maybe she would have been searching for that source by now. Maybe she would have found it already.

But it felt as though her joints had locked up, preventing her from moving at all. Her eyes could focus only on the shape of Fearne Watson’s ghost and not Lockwood, who she would much rather have been looking at.

He seemed to realise then what was happening, standing as he spun around to face the ghost. His rapier was drawn in mere seconds, angled towards her purple, glowing face. Her teeth were bared in some gruesome excuse of a smile that creased her tear-stained cheeks.

“(y/n).” His voice was steely as he looked ahead at the ghost, hiding any of the fear she wasn’t entirely sure he ever felt so as to not empower the ghost. “I need you to find the source. Snap out of it.”

She couldn’t, not when Fearne’s voice whispered in her ears so painfully, so full of betrayal. Her sister’s name over and over and over again, tear-filled and sickening. All (y/n) wanted to do was wrap her arms around Fearne and promise her that things would be okay, that she would take her story back to the news with the revelation of her killer. Even if it was just her word against the world’s, supported by no evidence but her Talent, she would do it.

Then, Lockwood threw a salt bomb at Fearne’s face, dissolving her spectral form for a moment.

He turned back to (y/n), eyes uncharacteristically wild. “(y/n), go!”

And she did. She was on her feet again, heart thumping in her chest as Lockwood turned to follow the moving glow of Fearne Watson, slashing at her with his rapier whenever she came too close.

(y/n) grappled for anything that could be a source, feeling them in her hands for any signs. Ice cold. Traces of memories that she would be able to see or hear. Most were fruitless, just ghastly-looking vases and pretentious photo frames. What on earth would be the source if somebody else was living here now?

A thought came to the forefront of her mind, driving her back to the blood-red rug. She folded the corner over itself again and again until she reached somewhere near the middle, cringing at the wailing noises that came from the visitor. Salt exploded in the air, tangling in her hair and melting on her lips. With the miasma she had misunderstood as fear and sympathy, it was a horrible taste.

The dark floor was stained darker in one spot, splotchy and strangely shaped, exactly where the teacup had fallen in the vision. Fearne howled when (y/n)’s fingers brushed it.

“Hurry!” Lockwood called, twisting his rapier in ways far too complicated for (y/n) to ever attempt. “I know what you’re thinking!”

And he likely did. She was unsure as to why Lockwood expected any different from her - to not feel even the slightest bit bad for these ghosts. Some had died so brutally, so heartbreakingly, that sometimes she doubted if he truly had a heart, despite the way she so often saw him looking at her. 

This poor woman had been killed by her sister for nothing more than existing. She had died horribly, unable to move or breathe as her sister watched her struggle, ignoring the hemlock tea stain on the floor beneath her feet. She had remained at the site of her murder for years, with no escape from the memories of her death.

How could she not feel bad? How could she not wish for something more for ghosts like Fearne, more than a fight and another violent end, surrounded by the flames of the Fittes Furnaces?

The wailing disappeared for a moment, and all she could hear was Lockwood panting behind her. And the whispers. The whispers from the floorboard.

“Have you found the source?” he asked, his voice cool. She wasn’t sure when the last time he had used that tone on her was.

His answer was a resounding yes.

Fearne’s glowing apparition appeared in front of (y/n)’s face, her haunting smile and glassy eyes like a hand around her heart.

Dahlia, she murmured. A tear slipped down her purple cheek as one of her hands slowly reached upwards, towards (y/n)’s cheek. Her other hand neared the site of the source, from which she had just appeared. Dahlia.

(y/n) didn’t notice how cold her hand felt until the chill was gone, replaced by the weight of a silver net. All noise felt as though it had been sucked out of the room, replaced by a heavy silence.

Then came the angry breathing Lockwood so often resorted to when he could not bear to speak to George or Lucy when they had particularly annoyed him. But never had he done it because of (y/n). Never.

She turned her head, slipping her hand out from beneath the net, and met Lockwood’s gaze. His brows were drawn close over his shadowed eyes, lips curved downwards as his shoulders rose and fell with each deep, steadying breath he tried to take.

“We get rid of ghosts,” he said, voice tight. “We aren’t paid to sympathise with them.”

(y/n) stood slowly. “They deserve more than this.”

“They are ghosts.” His words were clipped now. “They deserve nothing.”

“She didn’t deserve to die.”

“And neither do we!”

He had raised his voice just so slightly, but, even still, it took her by shock. He slipped his rapier into his belt, pocketing his salt bombs, and stared angrily at her in a way he never had before.

“I let you off the first time something like this happened,” he said, “because you were new. I wanted to see how you worked, see how you processed these things. The second time, well, that was different - the ghost had no intention of doing anything but sitting sadly in a corner. The fifth time? Well, I suppose that, along with every other time you’ve pulled this, was because of my feelings for you. But you’ve put both of us at risk today, again. I won’t have it.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “What? So you want me to go around with no feelings whatsoever and just get rid of all of these ghosts?”

He threw his arms into the air, exasperated. “Yes! That’s what I pay you to do!”

“Well, I won’t do it.” (y/n) bit the inside of her cheek. “Without the emotion, I wouldn’t be able to find the sources the way I do. I’m not going to be some emotionless paramount of an agent like you. And if you don’t want me to work that way, then I won’t. I'd rather leave than do that.”

“Then go.”

The words hung in the air, and (y/n) found herself immediately regretting hers. But Lockwood's certainty in his, they had her dead-set. If he was so blasé about her threat of leaving Lockwood and Co after all they had been through, all she had felt for him, then she would go.

She didn’t want to work in any way but hers. She had perfected her technique, used it on every case to support her findings. Sure, she sympathised with many of the ghosts; how could she not, when many were late children or murdered women or family members taken too soon? Telling her not to work that way, to not use the pain felt by the victims to help her bring them peace, was like trying to cut a piece out of her body. She’d kick and scream and stop it at any cost.

With a breath that constricted her chest, she clenched her fists. Pain flared up through her right hand and, when she looked down, she had to blink a few times to make sure she wasn’t making up the blue tinge her skin had taken on.

Lockwood seemed to notice it at that very moment, eyes widening as he stepped forward. His voice softened as he said, “(y/n), let me see -”

Taking a step back, she clutched her hand to her chest. “No.”

She said it with more force than she has ever used with him. It shocked her almost as much as it did him. 

With her good hand shaking, she turned and strode out of the living room into the kitchen, where their kits were stashed.

DEPRAC’s main goal was to protect and provide for the agents that fought off visitors across the whole of Britain, and they had recently managed to get legislation approved for agents to carry adrenaline shots with them to cases. Far too many agents, most of them being barely teenagers, had died waiting for ambulances to provide the shots after being ghost-touched, especially when working in remote areas. DEPRAC wanted to reduce fatalities as much as possible.

So she reached into Lockwood’s bag - legislation had only been approved with the compromise that supervisors or business owners carried adrenaline shots with them, rather than allowing other agents to have possession of them - and pulled out the box containing the shot.

Lockwood was at her side in a second, reaching over to help her out, seeing her struggle with only one hand, but she turned away from him. She hoped he hadn’t seen the tears clouding her eyes before she had moved.

“(y/n),” he murmured.

“Don’t,” she said. “Just don’t.”

And, so, she stabbed the needle into her arm, administering the adrenaline despite the rules surrounding even that part of the legislation. She did not want to feel his hands on her skin. Not anymore.

☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎

(y/n) sat curled up on her chair, newspaper laid out before her. 

Her last case with Lockwood and Co had made it into the news, page eight, much to Lockwood’s likely chagrin. That was a guess, though. She supposed she wouldn’t know anymore.

Light flooded in through her window, illuminating the walls of her childhood home. She had not wanted to return, but what choice had she had? Getting a flat in London was almost impossible.

Her parents had taken her back with open arms, happy to have their little girl back, but they fell into old habits quickly. It seemed that the years she had spent living in 35 Portland Row had left them to store some passive aggressive comments ready for her return. Everything she did elicited some kind of comment.

She flicked through the newspaper, filling in crosswords and drawing devil horns on the heads of the Fittes agents that had made it into the paper.

Page eight, though she hated it, held her attention. After the effects of ghost-touch began to fade away, Lockwood had called the police and DEPRAC regarding the case, informing both of their findings. Though no evidence had been found to prove their claim, paragons of each big agency with the talent of Touch were brought in the DEPRAC van. Every single one confirmed her story.

The police disappeared shortly after, alerting higher ups and figuring out a strategy. Dahlia Watson still lived in London.

The floorboard was pried from the house, wrapped tightly in a silver net and taken by a DEPRAC officer en route to the Fittes Furnaces. She didn't miss the way Lockwood looked over at her at the announcement of the source's destination.

Journalists appeared shortly after, shouting their questions and writing down every move (y/n) and Lockwood made in their frustrating notepads as if their silence was condemnation. DEPRAC officers managed to shoo them off, but not before they snapped pictures of the two walking out of the house.

Lockwood looked as he always did, with that charming smile that, despite (y/n)’s anger, had a horrible flutter arising in her stomach, His long jacket blew back just so in the breeze, and his hair brushed his forehead softly. (y/n), on the other hand, looked far sterner than she had ever seen herself, her hand still a faint shade of blue, her eyes wan. Anybody who had seen their pictures in the news before that point likely knew that that was the end of their business together at Lockwood and Co. They were stood about two feet apart.

She should have left it there, left her remorse and fury mixing terribly in her chest, but she didn’t.

Her eyes caught onto the final sentence, and she felt rather sick. “I give full credit of the discovery to my partner, (y/n) (l/n), (pictured left). This case, and Fearne Watson's murder, would not have been solved without her. Always.”

Former partner, she thought with a lump in her throat. And, well, always did not seem so true anymore.

She tore the page from the paper, ignoring the bewildered look on her mother’s face. With bleary eyes, she crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the fire.

Perhaps always was only for fairytales.

[rebelandrichgirl]

Lützerath

I thought about not writing this to save my nerves but in this corner of the internet we ramble on about THE REBELLION 24 hours a day and German police in full riot gear wear white helmets that makes them look scaringly like stormtroopers, so I feel like this belongs here.

The village of Lützerath in Germany close to the German/Dutch/Belgian border is supposed to make way for brown coal open cast mining.

It’s the company RWE (Rheinisch-Westfälisches-Elektrizitätswerk) who wants to do this. The legal basis for this is that you get the permit to resettle whole towns and villages if it’s necessary to reach natural resources and brown coal is considered to be that.

The RWE needs the brown coal to burn it in their power plants, however it’s a long standing decision that Germany wants to fade out the use of coal for electricity anyway since there are alternatives and using coal (especially brown coal) actually needs to be highly subsidised to be cost-effective. Aside from the obvious CO2-problem.

The RWE just wants to use the last years where they are even allowed to do this to make as much money as possible before they have to close down anyway.

The original inhabitants of Lützerath have already been resettled. The village is currently occupied by climate activists. Their eviction seems to be starting soon.

I grew up kind of in the region and was there during Christmas. I have actually thought about going there, but I have obligatory stuff at uni, missing that would basically lead to me losing a year… So well… Reality check of my finances… I went back to my university… (Yes, I do feel the need to justify why I’m not there…)

I don’t think there is a realistic chance that they actually will succeed against the massive police forces that will get there. It’s just a question of how long it takes, how violent it gets and how much PUBLICITY it will create…

There is a lot you can do even if you don’t want to freeze your ass off and get dragged away by the police in the end.

Take a look at https://www.alle-doerfer-bleiben.de/ and at Instagram https://www.instagram.com/luetzibleibt/

When I looked for English information about this, I discovered that there is hardly anything. Except for the English language sections on the links above.

The only thing in foreign press I found was the “Photos of the week” of CNN, which actually has one picture from Lützrath and a two sentence caption.

If you happen to have an uncle or something who’s working for a newspaper or news channel somewhere… Wouldn’t this be a cool story…?

If you happen to live in North-Rhine-Westphalia ask your friends and family which company they get their electricity from. Many people in the region actually do have contracts with RWE. Make them change their electricity provider.

And no, they are not cheaper than other companies! Coal is fucking ineffective these days! Even money isn’t a reason anymore to stick to that company!

And yes, I know, compared to the struggle in Iran and a lot of other stuff going on on this world, this might seem like a joke, but this just hits close to home for me.

And in the end it's part of the fight against climate change which will decide whether or not we will be able to still live on this planet on the long run, so maybe it's not a joke after all...

Thanks for reading!

[akos-sakka-hell]

I went to a pride event so have a couple headcanons based on my experience here

Honestly I'm not even sure who is the most likely to go to pride but hey, bestie and I debated, have the results.

All the following groups went separately, without knowing others would go. And yet, they all found each other somehow at some point.

Tachimukai shyly came out to Tsunami as [insert your hc here], asked if he was okay going to pride with him, and Tsunami accepted immediately, despite not being queer by any means (or didn't discover himself yet). Tsunami had a blast here, he had absolutely no idea what was going on, and ended up asking many people what their flags meant. He remembered none of them.

Rika begged Touko to come with her and after a while, she accepted. Touko prepared the best outfit she had, had her aroace beanie ready and all, and the moment the two got together, it just went "Oh so you're aroace?" "Well, yeah, but what are you then?" "Me? Oh I'm straight! I don't really have anything queer in me haha" "Then why are you here??" "The vibes are great"

Fudou didn't plan on going, since that kind of event isn't for him. But he saw people from afar climbing on the roofs of bus stops and decided it was his time to shine.

Oumihara's coach brought everybody in the team for no particular reason. As Rika said, the vibes are great.

The guys from Tobitaka's gang were planning on going, and Tobitaka sensed something would go wrong, so he decided to go with them.

Fuyuka came out to her dad as aroace and he just went "... Do you want to go to the pride event of next week?". She didn't even know there was one. Kudou knew because he had this nagging feeling at least 50% of the Inazuma Japan team was not straight.

Once they were here, whenever someone from the Inazuma Japan team did something stupid, somehow it was always when Kudou was around, close enough to see them and scold them.

Genda insisted to go with Sakuma, who grumbled before accepting (he didn't need much convincing actually). And then Sakuma spotted Fudou on the roof of the bus stop. "What the fuck are you doing on a bus stop?" "I'm just chilling, the view is nice" "Alright I refuse to believe you went alone. Where's Kidou?" "What makes you think I went with Kidou??" "…" "…" "… He's by the tree in the shade since he thinks the weather is too hot."

Hitomiko wasn't planning on going. She was just on her way to get groceries and somehow got dragged into this.

Fubuki wanted to go, but not alone, hence why he asked Someoka to come with him. Someoka reluctantly accepted because it was Fubuki, but kinda hoped he would not come across anyone he knew.

And somehow, the entirety of the B4 squad got reunited at some point.

Aphrodi of course went there, with the most extravagant outfit he could think of. Nagumo and Suzuno were of course dragged there as well.

Hibiki didn't go by himself, he just waited for the parade to come around his place and then decided to put a flag by the window.

It was at this moment Hibiki spotted Fudou on the roof of the bus stop. Hibiki stared at him, he stared back, and Fudou reluctantly got off the roof.

The only communication they all had during the event was by sending pics in groupchats of whatever group they spotted with the caption "Look who at pride"

[halojalex]

Lets hear that essay

oh man i kind of wasn’t expecting to get any replies to this LMAO bUt here we go. strap urselves in this is gonna be a long one

i won’t share the whole document i wrote bc it’s really long and i go off on a lot of tangents but here’s the general idea

for starters, i believe g&c is absolutely about jalex. we already know it's about a gay couple, so with this in mind, alex telling jack that it's about him is enough to at least consider what that means. granted, i know many believe that he was joking, but i've always thought his tone and general demeanour seemed far too sincere for him to be joking; we've seen how alex acts when he jokes around with jack, and this was different.

furthermore, it's also worth pointing out that jack and alex specifically wrote this one song on their own in a cabin (?) away from everyone else; i know this may not seem important on its own, but it's always worth keeping in mind. ie why would two friends go off to write a song about a queer relationship on their own?

adding onto this, there was that interview with kerrang where alex talked about wake up sunshine as a whole and how it’s about discovering yourself and coming to terms with who you are (i’m paraphrasing but that’s the general idea), so to have a song about a gay couple on an album that’s all about alex discovering who he is seems to me like he wrote it from personal experience.

secondly, i feel like it's important to note that, while jack and alex have always been closer than the average friendship, always bordering on acting like a couple, this closeness was especially apparent during the time that alex was separated from lisa and was living with/near jack. people have commented before on how 'dependent' they were on each other back then, so it's clear that the bond between them was especially strong at that time. of course, i'm sure many will say that it could've been bc alex needed jack's support/bc he was living close by so spent more time with him/whatever, however i feel like there's more to it than that, given all the other reasons. i think they were more than friends.

i'd also like to bring people's attention to one particular incident - that photo of them spooning on a beach. frankly, i've always been a little surprised that so many people have skipped over this without blinking, bc that photo to me has always seemed so intimate and domestic, i find it really hard to believe that many friends would casually sit like that.

and of course how can i forget to mention alex's bday post for jack in 2021? that caption haunts me. "what's there to say that isn't already tremendously obvious? you're a bright light in this weird world my dude. love you times a million" how does that not scream a bday post for a partner? "love you times a million"??? bye they ruin me. all of it just seems so,,, romantic?? idk but i feel like if my closest friend wrote something like that about me i'd find it just a little too much. but maybe that's just me. but also i've seen/heard people say that that caption sounded a lot like something they would write/have written for their partner so,,,,,,, make of that what you will.

ofc honourable mention of the time they went to a gay bar together and karaoke. i realise it’s only from word of mouth that we know that it was a gay bar, but it seems a well-enough-known fact that i feel like i should include it.

i’m sure there’s more i could say, it’s just hard to keep track of everything, especially without making this ten pages long. but another thing i believe is that jack has always had feelings for alex, long before they ever got together. granted, that on its own doesn’t necessarily mean that he and alex dated, however it’s important to note. one thing that sticks out to me with regard to this is how andie once made a post commenting on how jack never looked at her the way he looked at alex. this is interesting to me bc it just seemed like she was implying that she was competing with alex in a way. maybe it’s just me, but i can’t really see that post any other way than that tbh. i mean why else would she have said it? if jack didn’t have feelings for alex, then why would it matter how he looked at him?

furthermore the fact that jack wasn’t alex’s best man at his wedding fr keeps me up at night (i mean not literally but u get the idea). like everyone knows how close they are, alex has literally called jack his “best friend in the whole world” (brb while i cry over that), so why wouldn’t he choose jack, his closest friend, to be his best man at his wedding? i always feel like he did that intentionally to spare jack’s feelings. as if he’s always known that jack has feelings for him, and as such he knew he couldn’t put jack through that, as presumably the best man would have had to give a speech etc. just something else i think about a lot.

anyway, all of this was probably very confused, i hope it makes sense as i have a tendency to waffle sksjsksj but yeah, this is my general idea! lmk if anything doesn’t make sense djskdjsk

[smute]

As someone who has covered misinformation through dozens of major news events, I know that people flock to social media during a crisis for many reasons. Maybe it’s because the mainstream news doesn’t feel fast or immediate enough, or because the crisis has put them or someone close to them in harm’s way and they need help. Perhaps they want to see and share and say something that captures the reality of an important moment in time because they don’t know what else to do when the world is on fire. Misinformation and manipulation often spread for the same reasons, slipping into the feeds of those who believe it can’t hurt to share a startling video or gruesome photograph or call for aid, even if they’re not sure of the reliability of the source.

When war goes online, the churn of good and bad information is supercharged by the stakes. While state-sponsored information wars existed well before the invention of the internet, social media has enabled all kinds of propaganda and dangerous falsehoods to rapidly reach millions. During the Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022, for example, livestreamers and scammers reposted old videos to TikTok, claiming they showed the latest from the front lines, in order to get views and trick people into donating to fake fundraisers.

Journalists have had a difficult time following up on video-fueled updates about the situation in Gaza circulating on social media because it is extremely dangerous to be reporting in the region right now. Many news outlets have reporters working from Israel to cover the conflict. Correspondents on the ground in Gaza are trying to keep themselves and their families alive during the Israeli bombing campaign in retaliation for the Hamas attack.

[...]

[The SIFT method] is meant to be a quick series of checks that anyone can do in order to decide how much of your attention to give what you’re seeing and whether you feel comfortable sharing a post with others.

The SIFT method breaks down to four steps: “Stop, Investigate the source, Find better coverage, and Trace claims, quotes, and media to the original context.” That “Stop” step can do a lot of work during a major, violent conflict like the Israel-Hamas war. People get engagement on questionable or untrue posts during breaking news by tugging on your emotions and beliefs.

So if a video, photograph, or post about the war seems to confirm everything you’ve ever believed about a topic or makes you immediately furious or hopeful or upset, stop yourself from instantly sharing it.

Then, investigate the source. This can be done pretty quickly. Click on the account sharing the thing you saw and glance at their information and previous posts. You’re not launching a full-scale investigation here. You’re just trying to get a sense of who has ended up in your feed. Next, find better coverage. That means you open up a bunch of tabs. Is this being reported anywhere else by trustworthy news sources? Has this claim been fact-checked? And finally, trace the source. Open up the news article and run a search for a phrase in the quote you’re about to share. See if you can find that image attributed elsewhere, and make sure the captions describe the same thing.

[...]

Online falsehoods need attention and amplification to work. You might not have a big account with a ton of followers, but every reshare matters, both to the circle of people who see your posts online and to the engagement numbers for the original post. Interacting with something on social media — whether a cautious share “in case” it’s true or a repost to point out that something definitely isn’t — signals to the site’s algorithms that you’re interested in that content. In other words, outrage shares are still shares, even if you’re talking about a bad analysis, an unsourced photograph, or an outright lie.

[ajscico]

3, 14, 21 for fic asks! :D

3 favorite line/scene you wrote this year. This scene is part of an unpublished fic that I will finish at some point, dang it. But I’m really proud of this one.

“So, do you have something specific to charge me with or are you just blanketing it under war crimes?”

“You think you’re absolved of your actions against this people just because Her Majesty waved it all away? You think your soul is clean of the atrocities just at a proclamation from a princess too naive to be ruling.” His Zelda was many things, but he wouldn’t have put naive on the list. But he reasoned that most people outside their little battalion didn’t know about Sheik.

“So what? You have me. Why haven't you had me hung and carried out your vengeance already?”

The councilman scoffed.

“You’re going to wish it had been as quick as a hanging, you arrogant bastard.”

“You’re going to wish you’d made it quick.” Warriors shot back. “My fellow heroes are going to…” Now the councilman was laughing and it was just out of place enough to stop Warriors mid-rant.

“Those men you promenaded into town with? They’re dead, Boy.” No, that wasn’t right. The councilman’s laugh turned cold and cruel at his instant denial.

14 a fic you didn’t expect to write— honestly I should just have a poorly edited version of the one meme with the caption “I don’t control which plot bunnies turn into killer (plot)rabbits.” Both my ‘wrote this instead of sleeping’ short fics this year could be on here. (Song of Healing Angst Version and Shortly After) but out of the two that legit kept me up until I’d finished them, I’d have to say Shortly After. All of Kikker’s stuff is amazing but the sudden intensity of needing to write a follow up was a lovely surprise when I finished it and dumped it in the ask box and had to freaking log in to work cuz I was very very close to being late to work.

21 most memorable comment/review— is it dumb that I get the giggles when the response includes some vehement, colorful words I don’t use? Cuz those are fun. (With all the love to @majorproblems77 )

Otherwise, I (kind of vainly) enjoy getting a “this is canon now”

[hoghtastic]

I think the nun costume stories are from different days.

I have no idea if this counts as off topic but I wish the one fan account that went offline a year ago was still active during a time like this. The one with the funny content. Often a lil cheeky. I think she/he left because of Mexico and the politicians. She/he didn't pander to Alex like others. No fan account was like hers or his? I really have to say there are great fan accounts, whether they like his gf or not, but I think there are also really bad ones that are borderline cheap. One of them is particularly inferior to the others. 

At first I was confused because I thought the funny account was back under a new name, but at some point I realized that the content was just much worse. Maybe she just wanted to copy the other account's style? The original account never sexualized Alex as much. Then I knew OK, it had to be someone else. I was a little disappointed not gonna lie. I was a bit shocked at how much information I got when I briefly asked what others thought about the account I’m referring to. 

Supposedly it was already a topic on the old blog. She's into private information about Alex and sticks with people who can give her private videos. I heard that she gets really excited when Alex's parents or others see her stories, supposedly she thinks that Alex watches all of her stories with a fake account. About that I wasn’t as surprised, you notice very strongly that she desperately desires acknowledgment and likes from Alex and his gf for her comments and captions but masks it as support. She likes his family’s comments under Alex gf’s comments and tries to involve in everything Alex. But her captions and comments for Alex are borderline obsessed. You could think Alex is a god and not a human being when you see her comments. But again, many of her comments are aimed at her hoping or thinking that he and others of his people see her stories. 

She is the type of fan account that likes to allude to hate towards his gf in her captions in order to portray herself as a true fan. She also gets attached to better fan accounts, actually a really REALLY good fan account that has good content, seems to be close to her. It's crazy how extreme some fans see Alex. He’s only human. Seriously, I would also like to watch private videos but this kind of worship is delusional.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts, anon. 😊 I believe that, as long as there will be celebrities, there will always be the extreme fans who put them on a pedestal, to whom they can do no wrong. However, it's important to understand that they're only human, like the rest of us, who happen to have made some career choices which gave them more exposition. However, they still have their flaws and are far from perfect. And this is why I disagree with the "censorship culture" I've seen on some Alex fanpages, especially since he started dating Johanne, where people were called out and deemed "not true supporters" if they dared criticize him and/or her. Not everything they do is bad, obviously, but they're not perfect either, and if people would like to comment on it, as long as they keep being respectful, they should be allowed to do so.

About the private videos, I believe they're private for a reason. Most of the time, they belong to people who are not public figures, and therefore such content should never be downloaded nor shared among fanpages. If not illegal, it's at the very least morally wrong. And even if people don't straightforwardly share it, just "hinting" at having them and/or knowing private info, to make themselves look more important or "better fanpages" is just childish and a desperate need for attention, in my opinion. (It reminds me of those irritating kids in elementary school, "Ooh I know this and that, but I won't tell you! Haha! 😜". Like, either share it (knowing it's stolen, private content and therefore you shouldn't be doing it) or just shut up and keep it to yourself. 😆)

[burnwater13]

The Majordomo advises Boba Fett and the Mandalorian that he can negotiate with the Pykes on their behalf. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 7, In the Name of Honor. Caption reads: I'm fairly certain we would be granted passage off world with, at worst, some theatrical, symbolic, groveling gestures and an exchange of funds. - The Mayor's Majordomo.

Grogu understood that the Majordomo’s job required that he try to negotiate a peaceful resolution to the complex problems that found their way to the Daimyo’s doorstep or even the burned out bar the Daimyo was hanging out in.  But offering to give the Pykes credits so they could flee…, well, that did not actually sound like a diplomatic solution. That sounded like being a coward. 

He didn’t know about Twi’leks. Maybe as a people they valued different things than Mandalorians. Like running away and living to runaway another day. Grogu could see the wisdom in that. He’d certainly done that more than once. 

Sure, most Jedi didn’t just run away but sometimes they did. If the odds were overwhelming. If they couldn’t stop the problem by staying. If they were really, really afraid. Those were all considered acceptable reasons for an appropriate retreat. The Jedi weren’t wasteful, after all. 

At least they weren’t supposed to be wasteful. A few of them seemed to have a real problem with keeping track of simple necessities like light sabers and cloaks. Others seemed to go through a large number of ships. Then there were the people who needed two of everything. You’d think that if you were lucky enough to find one kyber crystal you would just make that one lightsaber and be happy about it, but no.  

Not to mention how many Jedi Temples there had been. Sure, they had solved that problem by getting down to one temple on Coruscant. It hadn’t been easy and in the end it had proved to be a kind of big mistake. Grogu recalled from one ‘History of the Jedi’ lesson that temples had been sprinkled around galaxy much in the same way you could find a ‘Quick Caf’ on almost any planet located on the Hydian Way or the Perlimian Trade Route. That was a lot of temples.

At the time he had wondered what had happened that they had all ended up on Coruscant. It seemed like that old Jedi’s tale about putting all your kyber crystals in a single camtono. Too much of a good thing becomes unstable and just the wrong sort of jolt causes a runaway chain reaction and ‘BlIP!’ your camtono has been reduced to its component elements and Master Drallig is making you clean up the mess. On that basis, it had only been a matter of time before the Temple on Coruscant went blip. 

But again, how did it get that way? Were temples too hard to run? Did they require too much stuff? Were all the Jedi doing their own thing? Grogu laughed out loud at the thought of that. Just imagine, a series of Jedi Temples where the younglings were taught to play music to harness the Force or dance, or paint, or grow plants or critters! Every youngling would have followed their interests. 

Of course everyone of them would have had to cover the basics as well. That stopped Grogu from giggling. He imagined dozens of Jedi just like Master Drallig. Stern. Determined. Focused on just two things: lightsaber battle techniques and physical fitness. Uff. One had been bad enough. More than one? That would have been reason enough to start a consolidation process, which on it’s own would have demanded a lot of attention and planning. 

Maybe that’s why they had settled on Coruscant. Just one place to focus their attention on. Close to the seat of power. Younglings would have been brought to the Core instead of temples being maintained all over the galaxy. And if something didn’t work out where you were, you could always retreat to Coruscant, gather fresh reinforcements, and head back to the problem area. 

Maybe that’s what Majordomo had really intended. Not that they run away. That they only appear to runaway. Lull the Pykes into a false sense of security and then come roaring back with… hmmm. What would they come roaring back with? The rancor? They didn’t have access to another Krayt dragon which would have gone a long way to help. Grogu was the only Jedi within anything like a reasonable distance, given that Luke and Ahsoka were busy with other stuff and Ossus was closer to Lothal than Tatooine. The New Republic was unlikely to take an interest in the problems on Tatooine. They hadn’t really cared that much about what happened on Nevarro. 

He suppose that was the problem with running away. You had to have somewhere to go. If you didn’t… well, you’d likely find yourself in the same sort of mess you just left. It would just be somewhere else where you knew fewer people and less about what sort of support you might find. It was risky. Dangerous. Reckless even. He’d never thought the Majordomo was reckless. But then the Majordomo had never dealt with Mandalorians before. They’d just do the opposite of whatever you said. If you said, ‘Come on, run away!’, they were sure to dig in their heels and refuse to budge. 

Hmmm. Maybe he had known that… because Daimyo Fett and his dad just dug their heels in after he offered to negotiate an orderly retreat on their behalf. Maybe the Majordomo actually really liked Mos Espa and Tatooine and wanted to see it free from corruption and syndicates? Or they had all just gotten really lucky? One of those things was true and Grogu was pretty sure it didn’t matter which one it was. The outcome had been that same and that’s what mattered. 

The Majordomo pitching a way out of their current problem in Mos Espa to Din Djarin and Boba Fett. From The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 7, In the Name of Honor. Caption reads: with, at worst, some theatrical, symbolic, groveling gestures.

[ghostinacardboardbox-oldblog]

Me rattling the bars of my Cage (the fact that I’m a native English speaker) and begging Disney to put closed captioning on Soy Luna

[aellynera]

Hi love! Can you do a Oscar Isaac x reader where they do the buzzfeed video reading thirst tweets and he gets jealous of the tweets? Thank you so much, I love your page. ❤️

Hello lovely Nonnie! I’m sorry this took so long, but I finally got super inspired to finish it. It’s not Oscar Isaac per se (I don’t do RPF) but I thought about it a bit and I was like...but I will do a Llewyn AU. So that’s what I did, and here it is, and I hope you and whoever else reads it, enjoys it! (note: most of the tweets came from various Thirst Tweet videos on YouTube, but there are a couple I just made up.)

I Want Llewyn Davis to Blank Me in the Blank (Llewyn Davis x F!Reader, Modern AU)

Word Count: 1300(ish)

Warnings: Some language, sexual references but nothing graphic or explicit just suggestive, floof.

- Llewyn isn’t sure what a BuzzFeed is, and to be honest, he’s not even sure what the hell a thirst tweet is. 

- You’re always teasing him that, if the world suddenly loses all technology tomorrow and the internet and social media disappear, he’ll be the only one who will still be able to function, and he’ll probably be a lot happier.

- You’re not wrong.

- He hates social media. Doesn’t understand what the point is really, why so many people are obsessed with it. Yeah, he technically has official accounts on all the major platforms, mainly because you insisted and set them up. They’re just placeholders and he never uses them.

- The only reason he’s even here to do this media gig is because you asked, all wide puppy-dog eyes and gnawed-on bottom lip, and he knows that you know he can’t say no to that.

- Not that he ever really wants to say no to you, but sometimes...

- Now he’s almost one hundred percent certain he regrets it.

- You’ve tried explaining the concept to him, probably like twenty-some times, and you’re trying again now, but as you lead him into the studio it pretty much goes in one ear and out the other.

- People don’t know you’re together, so he’s annoyed by that on top of everything else, because he can’t call you any of the usual pet names that roll off his tongue like melted butter.

- No angel. No baby. No sweetheart. It fucking sucks.

- "It’s not a serious thing, Llewyn. Just...fake it till you make it. Make jokes about it, it’ll be fine,” you tell him.

- You sit side by side at a little table, a couple feet apart, and a production assistant put a little metal bucket in front of each of you.

- Llewyn gives you a weird look. You just shake your head and smile this cute little smile that he does his level best to ignore because, well, you’re in public and nobody knows.

- Then the tweets come out of the buckets.

- Things I requite in a man: five nine, pisces, grammy nominated, llewyn davis. That’s all i ever need.

- Why is Llewyn Davis so attractive? He’s like 30 years older than me and I’m a lesbian but he still gets me hot and bothered.

- I cannot believe Llewyn Davis invented being sexy.

- Llewyn Davis got thicc lips and thicc hips

- I want Llewyn Davis to be my daddy but not in the fatherly kind of way.

- There’s a lot more, but honestly, they all sort of blend together.

- He manages to laugh them off and make some clever comments but he shoots you a look that’s part confusion, part disdain, and really annoyed. You just shrug.

- But then the tweets start coming out of your bucket, and Llewyn’s brain instantly regains its laser-focus.

- First, because everyone calls you by your online handle, which drives the nail further into Llewyn’s coffin because of his inability to actually call you cute names night now.

- Secondly, who do these assholes think they are, talking about his girl like this?

- Hello? Maker? Can we talk about how you put the heavens in AngelEyes’s eyes, because it’s starting to cause some serious problems over here. Kthx.

- I want to lick cherry-flavored jello off AngelEyes fingers, why does life have to be so unfair?

- Sit on my face and suffocate me, AngelEyes.

- AngelEyes’s boobs are a gift from whatever deity you choose to believe in, and if you’re an atheist, well, then more tits for me.

- I’m pretty sure AngelEyes could get all my children out of me, and I’m willing to take that challenge.

- Llewyn’s kind of tuned out, trying not to pay any attention to all the dirty things the world wants to do to you, but his head finally snaps up and his arm does too and his little metal bucket goes crashing to the floor.

- You (and everyone else in the studio) just stare at him.

- “Could I...” he clears his throat, “could I speak to you, for just a minute? Like, out in the hall?”

- “Okay?” you say slowly, but stand up and head towards the door, with him right behind you.

- The door barely has a change to swing shut behind you before Llewyn is on you, frantically pressing his lips to yours in a soul-sucking kiss.

- “Llewyn, what are you doing?” you hiss when you finally break away for air.

- It took quite a few minutes before you absolutely needed that break and you’re fairly certain people are going to come looking for you any second because you have to be taking a lot longer to “talk” than Llewyn implied.

- “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to sit there and pretend all those tweets are okay”

- He’s pressing you against the wall and you can’t help the slightly impish smile that comes to your face. “I have a pretty good idea.”

- Llewyn glares through narrowed eyes. “This isn’t funny, AngelEyes.”

- “I was listening to all the ones people said about you too. Don’t get so worked up, Llewyn, it’s all in good fun.”

- Llewyn snorts.

- “Baby, are you...jealous?” You raise a brow at him.

- “I have half a mind to just take you up against this wall, right now.”

- “You’re jealous.”

- His mouth is suddenly a breath away from yours again, and he murmurs, “I just want people to know that you’re mine. And to know that I’m yours. And to never read a single thirst tweet ever again in my entire life,” before his desperate lips are back on yours.

- This time, he pulls out of the kiss first and you rest your head on his shoulder and try to catch your breath again.

- He’s checking something on his phone - replying to a text from his manager Snap or his sister, maybe, you’re only vaguely aware that he’s actually on his phone at all.

- But then you feel your own phone vibrate in your pocket.

- You pull it out and immediately almost drop it.

- “Llewyn. You...you didn’t.”

- Llewyn looks at you with a completely innocent face. He slides his phone back in his pocket and hooks a thumb towards the door. “I don’t know what you mean, sweetheart. Come on, we should probably get back in there before they send a search party.”

- You barely have time to process the notification that Llewyn Davis (@ folksingerwithacatofficial) has made his first tweet! Check it out! and even less time to actually read it before Llewyn disappears through the door and you have to follow.

- But it there was a picture - you didn’t even know Llewyn knew how to do that. And if he had an extra minute, he’d be inordinately proud of himself.

- It’s from a friend’s rooftop party a couple weeks ago. You’re behind him with your arms around his shoulders, kissing his cheek, and he has his eyes closed and a happy, content little smile on his face.

- There’s no way anyone’s going to look at it and be like, ‘oh they’re just friends.’ But the caption definitely clears it up.

- Never been happier than I am w/AngelEyes by my side. Aren’t enough words to say how much I love you, baby. Maybe I’ll just write you a song or ten.

- You head back into the studio, about to shove your phone back in your pocket, your face burning hotter than the sun, but it vibrates again and you see the corners of Llewyn lips turn up, even though he’s pointedly not looking at you.

- There’s another tweet.

- Now go get some water y’all and stop talking about my girlfriend’s tits. At least give her ass the credit it deserves too.

- Llewyn pretends not to notice when, five minutes later, everyone’s phones and laptops and tablets start blowing up with notifications and reactions. He just pulls you into his lap and kisses you softly on the cheek.

Everything Taglist: @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @be-the-spark-flyboy @damerondjarin @deeandbobbymcgee @huxdameron @iflostreturntobudcooper @itspdameronthings @jitterbugs927 @leto-duke @littlebopper96 @reysflyboy @rosemarysbaby13 @spider-starry @veuliee @waatermelon-sugaar @woakiees @writefightandflightclub @yourbucky084

Llewyn Taglist: @santiagogarcia

>>join my taglist here<<

[akookminsupporter]

Once again tkkrs are creating something out of nothing. It never fails. We got a nice TK selca, which we now know was taken  in the bathroom of a restaurant and now tkkrs are saying it was a private and romantic date. Since Hobi asked where the photo was taken, tkkrs are assuming he wasn't there, but if he didn't ever go to the bathroom while they were having dinner there, he would have no clue what the room looks like. Also, these photos would have been taken over 2 months ago, which means it's perfectly reasonable to believe he wouldn't remember this place/decor. I mean, how many times have the boys taken photos and captioned it "when was this" or "where was this". And even if Hobi wasn't there, it doesn't  mean the other boys weren't. We literally just had an account of Jungkook, Jimin, Tae, Yoongi, and Hobi (or Jin?) going out to dinner together. Not all the members were there and not all of them needed to be.

Then, when people tell them that people would most likely recognize if those two were by themselves on a "date",  tkkrs are now saying that TK rented the place out to have privacy for their romantic date. Of course that's ridiculous because I assume if Jungkook and Tae wanted their "date" to be secretive/private, Jungkook wouldn't upload pictures to his Instagram account with over 22 million followers, some of which would recognize the decor of that restaurant. Also, if this was meant to be a "romantic" and memorable night, why on earth would these boys continue wearing the same clothes from the schedule that day. Clothes, in which they were heavily photographed in early that morning during a diplomatic event, meaning easily recognizable and not so personal. It also doesn't help that the person who confirmed Tae and Jungkook were at the restaurant said BTS visited and not V and Jungkook from BTS visited.

Speaking of the diplomatic event, tkkrs seem to forget this was a diplomatic trip. The boys didn't get those passports and travel to the US for the first time in two years to go on a "date". Not only would that be insanely unprofessional, but just uncharacteristic of them. Notice how we didn't get any fan pictures, spottings, or accounts of the boys hanging out in New York and when they were done with their schedules, they left. This was not a trip of personal enjoyment, it was business. Compare that trip to the trip in LA, where we had multiple fan sightings, pictures and the boys posting about their adventures, and you will see a clear difference.

And even if the Tae and Jungkook went out alone to dinner, we need to get past the idea that two members hanging out alone means that the interaction was romantic in nature. Tkkrs would love to say this was romantic, but when they're presented with all the times Jikook have gone out alone together off schedlue, including dinner, lunch, the movies, ice skating, tokyo, and even out with each others' friends, they say they're just friends or that's it's fanservice. When Vhope have gone on two different museum outings alone together in the last two months, tkkrs refuse to say they were dates (they even attacked armies for calling them dates) and insist they're just brothers. When Vmin were seen alone at a cafe together, they were regarded as just friends. As everyone can tell, the boys are close and they are friends. Sometimes they go out together. During the LA trip, Hobi, Jimin, and Jungkook were seen at dinner together as were Jin, Namjoon, and Jungkook another night and no, they're not in a polygamous relationship, at least to our knowledge. But I guess If one dinner is proof of a relationship and if selcas are too, then BTS might as well be in one big polygamous relationship with each other, since they have all done these things with each other.

I hesitated since I received this ask to post it. These are the kind of asks that I feel kill the neurons in my brain. And I don't say that because you anon, but because of the things you say, tkkrs say. Plus I imagine writing all that stuff took you some time.

The mental gymnastics that group do are terrifying. But it's scarier when those mental gymnastics manage to make more than one person doubt.

Please stop overanalyzing everything that those 7 men but especially the maknae line does. It's exhausting and it will change absolutely nothing.

[erwinsvow]

𝐚𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

note: part two to the college headcanons! part one can be found here! i had a lot of fun writing these and i hope everyone enjoys them :) teacher/student dynamic warning for zeke and hange's, and i guess bullying for annie's :/

𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝

the very definition of kind-hearted frat boy who doesn’t fit the stereotype he’s been assigned at all

starts off with accounting before realizing he hates math, moves into business management and marketing

the linkedin profile is absolutely popping, 500+ connections and details about every club and organization he’s ever been a part of

the friend that helps everyone find internships and fixes their resumes while offering helpful advice and not being condescending… anyways so that’s how you meet porco

he works at the career center 100% and does various coaching/prep help, and you, pieck’s friend, are in desperate need of an internship

so you’re complaining to your friend as usual, when she tells you to stop by the building and ask for a “pock”

so you do just that, walking in and asking for “pock” and porco is a little stunned by this pretty stranger calling him by a nickname reserved for his close friends, and even then he just barely tolerates it

but he doesn’t want to correct you, especially since you’re being so sweet and he can tell you need some help

so a meeting at the career center slowly turns into facetime calls to review applications and last-minute edits, stopping by your dorm to help you fill out paperwork and walking together to mail it out

i have a feeling porco doesn’t wanna be too forward, and he thinks he’s being very aloof and casual, when he really just seems oblivious

and you cannot tell for the life of you if he likes you or he’s just being friendly since you’re close with pieck

finally after you land the internship and won't have your normal excuse to spend time with him, you get the guts you've been searching for

you tell him about the position later in the day, stopping by the center for hopefully the last time

"by the way, my number's on my resume if you're ever gonna ask me out."

leaves pocky-boy flustered and red and scrambling to ask you out, and you have been happily dating since

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

oh boy

conny is a very typical college kid in the sense that he will sleep through every 8 am class he has, blow off class to go wait in line for the nacho bar, and has adopted the mantra ‘c’s get degrees’

but he is an extremely lovable education major with a focus in history

rarely seen without his shadow sasha, but now that she started dating niccolo, she thinks that conny could use a relationship too, and that it might do him some good to be with a funny, down-to-earth person

thus begins the most grueling two weeks for every girl on campus, as sasha hunts down girls that she thinks would be a good match for her best friend

this includes airdropping a photo of conny to the lecture hall with the caption “would you date this man? serious inquiries only”

creates a fake tinder complete with a google form to narrow down the options

however, none of this is necessary because sasha bumps into you in the smoothie line and causes your triple berry blend to go flying

she helps you clean up and idle conversation leads to you talking about dates and so forth

“well, i’d love to set you up with my best friend? how do you feel about a blind date?”

yes, conny met you, the love of his life, on a blind date set up by sasha with a stranger

it’s one of those funny stories that people don’t believe when you tell them, because how ridiculous is that, but you both think it’s perfect since you get along so well and it made all the waiting worth it

bonus: double dates with sasha and niccolo! fondue night at their apartment, going to the arcade and having to lug up sasha and her food baby while niccolo parks the car, just overall a grand time :)

𝐳𝐞𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

zeke yeager, ph.d. started his new job at university with one rule in mind: absolutely no illicit affairs

he also coaches the club baseball team, because why not get involved on your campus

he really believes that he’s gonna stick with it too, despite the overwhelming number of students who come to his office hours with questions that his less handsome teaching assistants could answer

but no, he doesn’t want to earn a reputation as that professor, and so he heads into the new semester with absolutely no lingering thoughts of an exciting little dalliance to get him through the monotonous days

he knows his huge lecture classes would always come with a few pretty students, but it’s the smaller, upper-level psych class he’s teaching when he meets you for the first time

zeke has you all figured out, or so he thinks. sitting in the front row, raising your hand for questions he wasn’t expecting anyone to actually have an answer to, neatly handwritten notes in a color-coded notebook. he wouldn’t peg you for the type to jump and take the risk by starting a relationship with a professor.

but he soon realizes that he didn’t have you as figured out as he thought he did.

you avoid the gaggle of freshmen during office hours by scheduling meetings instead, sometimes right before class, coming to him with two cups of coffee and a wide smile that actually had him fooled into thinking you were here for academic reasons

this facade quickly fades though, because after a semester of interactions with you and getting more and more comfortable with each other, to the point where coffee orders are memorized and it’s zeke rather than professor yeager, you’ve had just about enough

he knows he’s fucked when you come visit him at practice for the baseball team, bringing him a drink and engaging in conversation while the players watch their coach flirt with you

he’s especially fucked when he realizes he’s looking forward to practice just because there’s a chance you’ll stop by on your way to your next class

you submit your final paper early, nearly a week before it’s due and of course the first in the class to do so, and waltz into his office the next day with another steaming cup of his favorite drink

“you submitted your paper pretty early, you know.”

“i know. i also know that it means i’m not your student anymore, so if you were going to make a move, now’s the time.”

no, he definitely had underestimated how much he knew about you.

𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐚 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

mikasa is a forensic sciences major and is still debating on the minor- she’s torn between criminal justice or history like armin.

she loves her major classes, but she just wants something else interesting to look forward to as well, so armin suggests sitting in on a couple classes early in the semester and getting a taste for it.

so you don’t really think twice when she claims the empty seat next to you on the first day of classes, smiling politely and paying attention to the professor. you do notice, however, that she’s not writing anything down or looking at the syllabus, leading you to strike a conversation on why that is.

she explains herself and then before you even know it, the lecture ends and you spent the last forty minutes talking to mikasa about anything and everything.

she’s sitting in on another class tomorrow, and absent mindedly invites you to come along, to which you agree all too quickly, because why wouldn’t you

numbers are exchanged, times are fixed, and mikasa leaves wondering why she’s so excited at the idea of sitting with you in class again.

you two hate the history class she had chosen, with the professor droning on and on and you being focused entirely on the conversation you’re having with mikasa

until the professor kicks the two of you out for not shutting up, that is

you’re both laughing hysterically once you reach the hallway

“i’m gonna have to discourage you from doing that history minor if that’s what all the classes are like.”

“well, i have to do criminal justice so we can have that class together, anyways.”

𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭

true to form, annie goes into one of the most difficult majors: cheg. definitely flies through intro courses with straight As and minimal effort, but that’s also mostly because all she and bertholdt do is study

reiner tries his hardest to get her to go to a party every once in a while, but usually to no avail because she always has an exam to study for

you’re a tutor, and honestly, you’d say you were pretty good at your job. you can answer questions and explain reasonings fairly well to confused students. but when annie comes to your office hours with some complicated problems and she’s asking for explanations that you just don’t have, you literally feel your face burn with heat for the entirety of the time she’s there

long story short, your first encounter is embarrassing, to say the least. you’re stumbling over words as you try to look through your old notes and piece together an answer for annie, who you cannot even look in the eyes.

anyways, she leaves eventually and you want a hole to open in the ground and swallow you up, but at least she won’t be back next week, right?

wrong.

miss leonhart doesn’t know how to express her feelings any better than you, so her way of flirting is spending time with you in the tutor center as you fail to answer her questions time and time again

you want to scream at her to stop coming because she and you both know you’re not helping either of you with this

but also you really don’t want her to stop coming because you don’t have any other ways to see her outside of class

both of you reach your wit’s end on the same day, her coming to you with the absolute easiest problems she could find in the textbook, and you with every intention of asking her out to dinner

she opens her book, and you reach and close it quickly

“unless this is the only way you know how to flirt, something has to change now.”

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐞

dr. zoë teaches, just, way too many classes

we’re talking multiple chemistry labs and upper-level research courses as well

you’re just a ph.d. student doing rotations as per usual, and you’ve heard the comments from students senior to you about dr. zoë, who makes every student in rotation say hange instead of the formal way you’re used to

you’ve heard everything from crazy to genius and everything in between

what you weren’t expecting was… so good looking, and young? and comforting? and talking about all the things that you didn’t have the guts to bring up with other people, like how you always feel a little left out in the field and that you think no one cares about your research interests that much—a lot of stuff that you find yourself pouring out to hange on your very first day in the lab

you’re wondering why it’s so easy to talk to them, and why none of the other rotations ever felt this comfortable

and then you realize you’re spilling your guts to someone who probably doesn’t even care, and has way more to deal with on their plate than a ph.d. student with imposter syndrome

so you’re apologizing right after you’ve finished, when you’re met with the warmest look and a reassuring hand on your shoulder

it’s so easy to fall after that, with weekly meetings and regular check-ins, and you know it’s wrong to have this strange crush on your superior, but hange really feels like the one person you can count on here

you hide the crush in favor of getting the mentorship you desperately think you need, but it’s not long until you’re onto the next rotation and the next lab’s work is even closer to the stuff you love

you hate the way you feel, that you’re not gonna have any reason to keep in touch and you never even got to explain how you feel about them—and that you didn’t even get to experience hange’s energy because she was always listening and helping you out

it’s not until you get a text the night before your first day in the new lab from hange, filled with reassuring words and asking for a coffee date later in the week to talk about how it goes, that you realize just how well hange understood you

𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

last but not least, miss pieck is double majoring in french and public health

absolutely obsessed with her majors and loves the subjects, but works herself to death to keep up with it all

you don’t even realize that the pretty, studious girl you’re seeing in the library all the time is the same girl you spot with some of your friends from class

pieck is as oblivious as they come. you invite her on study dates after you two are introduced by reiner, invite her to get coffee after a particularly late night of studying, pretty much start spending most of your days together

you can’t help but be disappointed that pieck doesn’t see you in that way, because you’ve slowly been falling head over heels, but you accept that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, and you still love the friendship you two have

it takes a while for things to click for pieck, but they do right as the semester eases up

once exams are over, you two decide to go to these famous parties porco and reiner never stop talking about

it’s not the usual scene you’re comfortable with, but what’s wrong with letting loose a little, especially after midterms? no harm in having fun, right?

wrong again! you definitely get plastered way too quickly, and eventually pieck takes you to a room to settle down

drunk confessions of love aren’t usually the way to go, but you can’t help but reveal everything you’ve been feeling for the last few months when pieck is taking care of you in your current state

you definitely wake up hungover and ignorant to last night’s shenanigans, but you’re in your dorm, with a bottle of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand, phone plugged in and shoes off

pieck comes back with breakfast, coffee and your favorite pastries, and checks up on you

“so.. about last night..”

“i’m so sorry, did i throw up on you?”

“no, but you did say you were in love with me. was that just a drunk thing, or is it a sober thing too? because i think i’m in love with you too.”

[apixrl]

DRIVER'S LICENSE.

katsuki bakugou x fem! reader

WARNING(S): angst. cheating. swearing because it's bakugou.

word count: 4.5k

song: drivers license // olivia rodrigo (i wonder why...)

note(s): so i captioned this *at the time of writing* 'hello and welcome to i've had the worst two weeks ever so i wrote a katsuki oneshot to cope' and it's probably one of my most personal pieces of writing tbh

"-come Tuesday and we'll potentially see an end to this heavy downpour of rain. Temperatures will be on the rise to around-"

The talk on the radio cut short at the jab of your finger, heaving a great sigh which faded into the muffled pitter-patter of rain from outside. The streets had been showered with heavy downpours for the last week or so, no sign of sun or a still and restful day. Notwithstanding the miserable outdoors, the windscreen wipers on your car never ceased in their duty to grant you a clear view of the road ahead. And whilst you were grateful for their devotion, it didn't feel clear in the slightest. In fact, the road had never felt so blurry.

Shivering against the cold night chill and tucking your knees cosily to your chest, you eyed the raindrops on the windows. They raced against one another before they dripped down to your car's body, their glossy presence obvious thanks to the many hues of street lamps that surrounded them. You could have watched them for hours, being honest. Something about the droplets of water battling it out quite enticing. Anything to take you away from the cruel reality you were living in.

Your heart ached and yearned. But to no avail, the one you ached and yearned for didn't love you back.

Not anymore, at least.

Just the mere thought provoked a pulsating pang to resonate throughout your entire body. A pang filled with grief and sadness. Anger and hurt. You missed his sun-kissed face on the sunny mornings. You missed his eyes and how they gazed at you from across the room. You missed the smiles and laughter he would only show for you and you alone. The sense of glee and euphoria that came with that honour. Yet all of it was gone and there was no way you could get it back.

The memories of what had been triggered more waterworks. Hot, salty tears dug at the corners of your eyes and trickled down your face. Your motionless car concealed your cries and sobs. Every thrash against the wheel as you questioned to nobody in particular what went wrong and why. How you didn't see the signs sooner. What you could have done better. When he stopped loving you. If he ever planned to stop loving you. Whether it would have hurt more if you found out sooner.

All these questions with nothing to answer them.

Katsuki Bakugou had always fascinated you. From the very moment you met. You accompanied your friend on a double date, and he was the guy who she matched for you. Whilst he originally acted as though a blind date was the last place he wanted to be, underneath the aggression you could tell there was something much more genuine and true.

And your assumptions were correct. Truth be told, Katsuki Bakugou was one of the most genuine and truest people you had met (at the time). Once it was just the two of you, he allowed his true colours to unveil. Through the smallest of kind gestures that still haunted your mind to this day. Then upon confrontation, as you bid each other goodbye at your back door, his denial resulted in a flirtatious contest which then proceeded to an intimate night that changed your life forever. From there your mind was set.

He was the one.

Emphasis on was.

So blinded with a fairy tale love you grew so accustomed to, you never saw it coming. Never in your two-year relationship - that had so much strength and commitment built on top of it, never did you think that Katsuki Bakugou would throw it all out of the window like it was nothing. Disregard your loyalty and adoration for a drunken one night stand that slowly became an occasional hookup. Which soon became a mandatory pastime once a fortnight. Then twice. Maybe more than that. You wouldn't put it past him with what you knew now.

He kept it from you for nearly six months. Six months. The only reason you discovered his lies and deception was because you were let off early one night from work. You worked a night shift, see. Your last job had fallen to shambles, and it was temporary whilst you searched for a new one. And whilst that did take a toll on your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou, mostly finding time for intimacy since his working hours were during the day, none of that gave him any right to go and do what he did.

That wasn't one of the only reasons, you knew that for sure. There were other motives for his lack of loyalty. But you were never told. After you froze at the sight of another woman under his hold and stormed straight back to your car to flee. After he chased you down the flights of stairs in nothing but baggy pants into the streets of a twilight Musutafu. After you screamed into the darkness and belted your fists against his chest. Fists that were driven with rage and hurt and every emotion that burned like the hottest of fires and froze like the coldest of ice. He never even told you. He never made an effort to address it. Nor had he attempted to call or even try to visit your Mom's house - where you stayed as you searched for a permanent place to live. Just because you retreated for your car and cried that it was over, he never tried. But that didn't mean you weren't allowed an explanation. An apology. Something to give you a form of closure and a reason to move on. But you never did.

That wasn't even what hurt the most, either.

As silly as it was, the thing that hurt you the most was the very car you sat in.

EIGHT MONTHS AGO . . .

The red glow of traffic lights hit Katsuki's vermilion irises as he stared dead ahead at the long line of vehicles, the ash-blond heaving a sigh into the air. His finger tapped impatiently against the steering wheel he gripped with one hand, the spare rested casually against your upper thigh affectionately.

"I can't believe we have to sit through this torture just to go to some damn party," Katsuki grumbled, taking a glance over at you. His brows furrowed when he met you peacefully slouched down, nose dug into your phone as you presumably played some sort of game to pass the time. Like you had no care in the world for your predicament.

"It's your best friend's birthday, love," You mused back, Katsuki surprised you even listened based on your focused expression directed towards your phone. "It's not like we can just miss it,"

"Yeah, but we could have missed all this pain by taking the train instead of driving across town during rush hour,"

"Trains are icky, the seats would have ruined your suit and my dress," You pointed out, looking at the blond over your screen, sending him a sweet smile. He cocked a brow, a smirk creeping its way onto his lips as a scoff of a laugh broke out between them.

"Right, and laying down like a sloth is gonna help keep your dress uncreased?" He returned, amused at your realisation. At his comment, you sat up faintly and pouted your lip.

"Driving means more time to play Gravity Pops, and so does traffic,"

"Seriously? That's the game you're playing? You're such a dumbass,"

"Yes! I'm in the top 11% globally! I need to get to number one!" Was your protest, your arms flailing ahead of you briefly for dramatic emphasis. Katsuki clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, though the small smile plastered over his lips betrayed his initial reaction. Unable to deny your determination, he spoke with confidence and almost a sense of pride.

"Number one, hm? Clearly rubbing off on you aren't I?"

"In a way, yes,"

"That's my girl," Katsuki remarked, earning a giggle from you that was uplifting to hear. It was there your attention went back to your phone, but Katsuki wasn't done. "So, speaking of cars, Y/N," Hearing his chosen tone - which sounded suggestive, you eyed him closely. Hesitant to reply as you had a sense of what he planned to say.

"...Yes?"

"Have you thought any more about getting your driver's license yet?"

Called it.

"...No,"

"What?" Katsuki began, tilting his head. He was surprised that he felt surprised. You had said those words in regards to this topic countless times. Still, he persisted. "Is that a no meaning you haven't or no meaning that you don't want to?"

"Both?" You half-guessed, sheepishly grinning at the look you were sent. "Look, cars scare me okay? And so do roads. And people. My nerves wouldn't be able to handle it! I can barely communicate with people face to face, so me being on the road is a recipe for disaster!"

"I know but -," Katsuki exhaled sharply, understanding your reasoning. You had voiced these concerns when confiding to Katsuki about your fears of the road. Something built and corrupted from social media as well as phobias and fears in general, it was a battle you had yet to overcome. You wanted to drive but was terrified of messing up or causing chaos on the road. Potentially inflicting harm to someone and yourself. You still weren't sure what triggered it all, but over the years it had manifested into something quite irrational, to say the least. Katsuki had been supportive of it and whilst he truly would love to always act as your personal taxi - you couldn't hide from it forever. It wasn't his job to keep you in your comfort zone. That, and he couldn't always be there for you that way. What if he was miles away and you had somewhere urgent to go like the hospital? "It's not as scary as you think. I know it's hard to believe that but seriously. The freedom you get from driving is amazing,"

"I'll think about it a little longer, okay?" You said with hesitancy, looking at Katsuki for a sign of confirmation. He nodded in defeat, knowing you probably needed more time and felt put on the spot. So he averted his eyes back to the road to check if the traffic had moved at all. It had not.

"Okay," Katsuki said. "But I can't be your taxi service forever,"

"But I like you being my taxi service," You jokingly said, a little sadness in your tone. "Your road rage is funny and I like watching you get out of the car and walk to my door after pulling up in my driveway,"

"What do you mean?" Katsuki asked, catching the twitch of a smile on your face upon saying those words. It struck his interest in what you could mean.

"You know, like when you say you're coming to pick me up?" You explained. "You pull up at my driveway and I don't know... simple things like that just remind me of how much I love you. It's dumb really, but it's important to me,"

"Really?" Katsuki questioned in disbelief. How something so small and meaningless could mean so much was puzzling. He couldn't understand why it was so special to you. But that didn't invalidate it in any shape or form. So he pushed that aside, replacing his wonder with gratitude. He returned to your bashful and flustered features, feeling a smile grow on his face.

"Yeah," You said, shrugging to downplay your words. "I love you. Stuff like that means a lot to me,"

"I love you too, even though you're a dumbass," Katsuki said, humbled by what you had said. The two of you shared a gentle exchange, your hand grabbing hold of Katsuki's as you gave it a squeeze. He squeezed back, and silence ensued. Had he realised such a thing sooner, then Katsuki would have pulled up in your driveway much more than he had been doing. But at that a thought struck his mind, victoriously smirking as he had an idea on how to potentially sway your worries. Or begin swaying it. Something was better than nothing, after all. "But what if I wanted you to pull up in my driveway one day?" His words caused you to look over at him in curiosity, hearing the seriousness in the question. It caught you off guard momentarily, having to contemplate as you gradually concluded that he had a point.

"Well one day, maybe I will," You vaguely replied and sat up a little bit. The hand holding yours pulled back and lifted to land on your shoulder, gripping reassuringly tight.

"I hope you do, I'd like to get in on this driveway action," He joked and smirked, faith riddled in his expression. You giggled ever so slightly, tempted to lean forward and peck Katsuki on the lips in thanks, but never a thing was to happen as the alerting red light from outside switched to warm amber.

"Ah!" Katsuki yelled in triumph, his attention leaving you swiftly as he got back into the driver's seat. Giving you no opportunity to respond to him and overall ruining the moment. "Took fucking long enough!"

The light turned green, and he set the car in motion, leaving you with your thoughts and the words he had uttered that day as the traffic stood still.

All your efforts, all your time devoted to getting over your fear of driving and the road as a whole... all of it was pointless. You did it for him. You promised him you would overcome your fears and better yourself. He built that motivation up brick by brick until you could grab hold and seize control. He wasted all that time to get you to reach such a stepping stone only to abandon it once it was through.

Just so you could pull up in his driveway, just like he requested. And what did you get in return when you finally did? A stab in the back and the loss of your other half.

You wiped your eyes via the sleeve of your hoodie, dampening the cuffs. Sniffling and exhaling a shaky breath, your gaze landed on nothing in particular. Yet somewhere within your clouded mind, you found interest. As that was where your gaze remained for a certain amount of time. You weren't sure how long exactly. It could have felt like an hour and only been five minutes. Or it could have felt like five minutes and was actually an entire hour. Either way, the clock ticked on and didn't wait for you to stop.

It was a good thing you had pushed your fears down and rose above them. It just pained you that you didn't even do it for yourself. Without Katsuki Bakugou, you never had any intentions of doing so. As a matter of fact, you had set out to take the train or bus for the rest of your life. Hell, you were going to use a bike and scooter if you got desperate. Had he even acknowledged how much work you put in just to get where you were? Was all that effort part of the reason why he decided to cheat? There was absolutely no telling. Absolutely no telling at all.

You wondered what he was doing now. Was he laid in bed resting peacefully? Out with his friends for a boy's night only? Maybe cooking his favourite curry? Possibly on a late-night jog despite the harsh weather? It never stopped him other times.

Did he ever think about you? Regret what he did and the actions he took? Had he ever considered apologising? Would he ever apologise? What if he was celebrating the fact you were no longer in his life? Had there ever been any love there for you in the start? Did he ever actually want you to get your driver's license because he believed in you? Or was it so he could get rid of you with much more ease? Make his departure less severe and less selfish? A way to justify his choices because it's not like you were hopelessly left to suffer everyday life now that you had a means of transport. Was he really that cruel?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sharp jingle of your phone, the device lighting up as it sat in the passenger seat to your left. It took two or three rings for you to glance over at it, E/C eyes sore and drained from crying out. You squinted them to read the caller, seeing the name 'Work' fade in and out on the brightly lit screen. For a second or two you argued back and forth on whether to even bother picking up. Something about reaching across for your phone requiring a magnitude of energy you no longer possessed. Having spent it all on your cries of agony and the deprivation of your old life as a whole.

However, you had ignored your work in the last couple of weeks too many times now. So many times that pulling the same stunt again would probably risk you losing your job. It's not like your work was interested in why you felt such overwhelming pain... all they cared about was you turning up to do what you were hired to.

So using a forceful hand, you leaned over to pick it up. You fumbled to grip your phone and accepted the call with a dainty tap of your thumb. Then you blinked away your tears and subtly sniffed, pressing your phone to your ear to address the caller.

"Hello?" You practically croaked, quick to clear your throat and push any signs of upset down. It was presumably dry from how much you'd cried in the last two hours.

"L/N! Hey! Glad you finally picked up!" Unlike the droll and unvarying tones of your boss, the person on the other end was much more lively and greeting. So much so you could only assume it was none other than your work colleague, Etsuko. Probably the only person you genuinely liked where you worked, and the only person who made the time pass by faster. "I was worried you were gonna leave me on answer phone again,"

"Hm, what? Oh right. Yeah. Sorry about that. Haven't been feeling too great," You lied, even though it wasn't a complete fib. You hadn't been feeling great at all. You had never felt so rock bottom. It all just originated from your mind over anything else. But when did work care about that?

"Sounds like it, I hope you've been okay!" Still cheery as ever, Etsuko followed up with a laugh to fill the silence you created by not saying anything. "Is everything well? It's nothing serious, is it?"

"No. It's not. Just some dumb cold I caught," You excused. "I'm better now, though," Slouching down in your seat, you decided to ask the question that had been roaming your mind the last minute or so. "So why are you calling?"

"Oh, right!" Etsuko said. "Mr Kobashigawa was just wondering when you planned on coming back - for schedule reasons and to get people to fill in for your shifts,"

"I er...," Not entirely sure how to answer, you stuttered as your words cowered away in your attempt to speak. "I don't -,"

"It's okay, he doesn't need an answer yet," Etsuko reassured. "Maybe in the next day or two, though? He wasn't really specific, being honest,"

You sighed at the guilt brewing in your stomach. You weren't even sick for crying out loud! Why were you lying just so you could wallow in your own sadness?! Like that was going to change anything! Sitting around and crying wasn't going to give you what you wanted. You weren't getting him back. Katsuki Bakugou wasn't yours anymore. He made that clear by cheating. By making minimal effort to give you an explanation. By causing you so much pain with little care or concern. Why couldn't you get it through your thick skull that your feelings didn't matter anymore?! That they were being wasted on a lost cause. A lost relationship!

"Well I mean -," You started, running a hand through your hair as you tread carefully on your words. "I could come in tonight? Has Mr Kobashigawa got someone to fill for me yet?"

"Um... no? I don't think so?" Etsuko answered, uncertainty in her voice. "Let me go check. Be right back!" And with that, the line fell dead. The call didn't end, just Etsuko placing the phone down to get an answer for you. Leaving you all by your lonesome once more.

Reflecting, you could see the logic in your thoughts. The best course of action would be to hold your head up high and live life the way it was before. When you were happy. Just... excluding the factors that actually made you happy. Which was him. Wouldn't that be healthier than crying all the time?

Yes, it would. But was it what you wanted? Not really.

"L/N!" The voice in your ear startled you to the point you nearly dropped your phone, panicking through a gasp as you fiddled to grab hold of it again.

"Wa-! Careful you nearly scared me half to death!"

"Oops, sorry!" Etsuko giggled softy, sounding as perky as ever. "I'm just excited to tell you that nobody's filling in your shift! You can still come in for ten-thirty!"

"I-I can?" You asked. After an upbeat 'yeah!' filtered through your ears, you considered your options. Remaining in the serene, quiet confines of your car with only the downfall of rain to accompany you sounded like utter bliss, given how you felt. But you felt an internal kick up the backside which told you - no... demanded you to just get over this moping attitude of yours and look on the bright side. To get over the lack of closure and simply... move on.

Yeah... if he found out you were an utter train wreck thanks to the damage he inflicted; Katsuki Bakugou would probably revel in it. He had a history of gaining pleasure from other's misfortunes... or it was rumoured he did (during his younger years, anyway). You had never wanted to believe it but you couldn't find a reason to refute it anymore. After all you had been through, it seemed to fit his character and personality more than ever. So with that fact apparent, you held a firm forefront and searched for a determined tone, and made your answer to your friend.

"You betcha I'm coming in! I'll see you in half an hour!"

Too enthusiastic? Probably. Still, it was better than acting pessimistic and hopeless. No matter, however, because that was exactly the attitude Etsuko had been hoping for.

"Alrighty!" She exclaimed, smile audible in her voice from the other end. "I can't wait to get our dynamic duo going again! I've missed you!"

"Yeah, me too, 'Suko," You hummed in agreement.

"Great! Catch ya later my partner in crime,"

"Heh. You too, dumbass," You found a reason to smile from her childish behaviour, though your choice of wording seemed to hit a nerve. It did more than that, it practically reverted all that confidence and progress you had made in the last ten minutes of being on the phone. All from one innocent word that escaped your lips.

Dumbass.

That's what he used to call you.

The phone call had ended without you even noticing, your phone still pressed to your ear as a small buzz sounded into it. You stared dead ahead, flashes of all the times he had said that word to you running through your memory. It was his form of a pet name. Some might see it as a little degrading on the surface, but you never minded. Once you learned the deeper meaning of the name, it became something equivalent to the likes of 'Sunshine' or 'Angel'. If anything, you ended up preferring it to those sorts of nicknames. Hence why Katsuki Bakugou had called you it on so many occasions.

No. Stop it. You can't let something like that bother you. Not after the efforts you just went to. Stop. Shaking yourself out of it, you returned to reality and permitted your phone to drop onto your lap. Your hand once holding it gripped onto your steering wheel, the other following shortly behind to do the same.

"I love you too, even if you're a dumbass,"

That rung in your head one final time, tormenting and mocking your present. The things you'd be willing to do to hear him say that to you one last time...

"No," You firmly shook your head, banging it lightly against the headrest to return yourself to reality. An attempt to knock those words to the back of your mind where you could lock them in a securely tight safe for the rest of eternity. "Just... just don't think about it. Easy. Just focus on what you're doing now," You reached for your keys which sat in the ignition, taking hold and turning them ever so slightly. Your car stirred to life, engine rumbling and the dials lighting up in a form of warm greeting. "You're going to work. No more feeling sorry for yourself,"

No more feeling sorry for yourself.

Your eyes set themselves on the road ahead. The vacant, dark and solitary road that didn't wait for you to make your decision. Life moved on after all, so if you were going to do anything - it was to catch up and take the winning lead.

So despite your circumstances; your inner desires and wishes and begs for what you wanted back but to no avail would ever get, you pulled out of your parking space (which had long exceeded the time limit, thankfully nobody was around to see) that drowned in pitiful rains of the night, and began to make your way down the street. In search of a place better than the one you were trapped in.

An endless road that wasn't all that clear, you were going to tackle it. Not for anyone else, unlike the last time you met difficulty and hardships. No, no, no. This time it was for your sake. All the mental energy to recover and become a better version of yourself, in the endgame it was all for you. You could push past all the deceit and lies you had been told and you could push past your normality which was him. Katsuki Bakugou. The man that hurt you as nobody had ever done before. You could create new normality without him.

A thought of forever he created and destroyed, resorted to driving alone past his street, never to be thought of again.