#and see how they solve it in their own websites way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

qqueenofhades · 5 months

Note

Hello! This is kind of a weird ask, I'm sorry to bother you, but seeing as you're a very intelligent studied historian that I deeply respect, I was hoping you could offer some advice? Or like, things i could read? Lately, i feel like my critical thinking skills are emaciated and its scaring the shit out of me. I feel very slow and like I'm constantly missing important info in relation to news/history/social activism stuff. Thats so vague, sorry, but like any tips on how i can do better?

Aha, thank you. There was recently a good critical-thinking infograph on my dash, so obviously I thought I remembered who reblogged it and checked their blog, it wasn't them, thought it was someone else, checked their blog, it also wasn't them, and now I can't find it to link to. Alas. But I will try to sum up its main points and add a few of my own. I'm glad you're taking the initiative to work on this for yourself, and I will add that while it can seem difficult and overwhelming to sort through the mass of information, especially often-false, deliberately misleading, or otherwise bad information, there are a few tips to help you make some headway, and it's a skill that like any other skill, gets easier with practice. So yes.

The first and most general rule of thumb I would advise is the same thing that IT/computer people tell you about scam emails. If something is written in a way that induces urgency, panic, the feeling that you need to do something RIGHT NOW, or other guilt-tripping or anxiety-inducing language, it is -- to say the least -- questionable. This goes double if it's from anonymous unsourced accounts on social media, is topically or thematically related to a major crisis, or anything else. The intent is to create a panic response in you that overrides your critical faculties, your desire to do some basic Googling or double-checking or independent verification of its claims, and makes you think that you have to SHARE IT WITH EVERYONE NOW or you are personally and morally a bad person. Unfortunately, the world is complicated, issues and responses are complicated, and anyone insisting that there is Only One Solution and it's conveniently the one they're peddling should not be trusted. We used to laugh at parents and grandparents for naively forwarding or responding to obviously scam emails, but now young people are doing the exact same thing by blasting people with completely sourceless social media tweets, clips, and other manipulative BS that is intended to appeal to an emotional gut rather than an intellectual response. When you panic or feel negative emotions (anger, fear, grief, etc) you're more likely to act on something or share questionable information without thinking.

Likewise, you do have basic Internet literacy tools at your disposal. You can just throw a few keywords into Google or Wikipedia and see what comes up. Is any major news organization reporting on this? Is it obviously verifiable as a fake (see the disaster pictures of sharks swimming on highways that get shared after every hurricane)? Can you right-click, perform a reverse image search, and see if this is, for example, a picture from an unrelated war ten years ago instead of an up-to-date image of the current conflict? Especially with the ongoing Israel/Palestine imbroglio, we have people sharing propaganda (particularly Hamas propaganda) BY THE BUCKETLOAD and masquerading it as legitimate news organizations (tip: Quds News Network is literally the Hamas channel). This includes other scuzzy dirtbag-left websites like Grayzone and The Intercept, which often have implicit or explicit links to Russian-funded disinformation campaigns and other demoralizing or disrupting fake news that is deliberately designed to turn young left-leaning Westerners against the Democrats and other liberal political parties, which enables the electoral victory of the fascist far-right and feeds Putin's geopolitical and military aims. Likewise, half of our problems would be solved if tankies weren't so eager to gulp down and propagate anything "anti-Western" and thus amplify the Russian disinformation machine in a way even the Russians themselves sometimes struggle to do, but yeah. That relates to both Russia/Ukraine and Israel/Palestine.

Basically: TikTok, Twitter/X, Tumblr itself, and other platforms are absolutely RIFE with misinformation, and this is due partly to ownership (the Chinese government and Elon Fucking Musk have literally no goddamn reason whatsoever to build an unbiased algorithm, and have been repeatedly proven to be boosting bullshit that supports their particular worldviews) and partly due to the way in which the young Western left has paralyzed itself into hypocritical moral absolutes and pseudo-revolutionary ideology (which is only against the West itself and doesn't think that the rest of the world has agency to act or think for itself outside the West's influence, They Are Very Smart and Anti-Colonialist!) A lot of "information" in left-leaning social media spaces is therefore tainted by this perspective and often relies on flat-out, brazen, easily disprovable lies (like the popular Twitter account insisting that Biden could literally just overturn the Supreme Court if he really wanted to). Not all misinformation is that easy to spot, but with a severe lack of political, historical, civic, or social education (since it's become so polarized and school districts generally steer away from it or teach the watered-down version for fear of being attacked by Moms for Liberty or similar), it is quickly and easily passed along by people wanting trite and simplistic solutions for complex problems or who think the extent of social justice is posting the Right Opinions on social media.

As I said above, everything in the world is complicated and has multiple factors, different influences, possible solutions, involved actors, and external and internal causes. For the most part, if you're encountering anything that insists there's only one shiningly righteous answer (which conveniently is the one All Good and Moral People support!) and the other side is utterly and even demonically in the wrong, that is something that immediately needs a closer look and healthy skepticism. How was this situation created? Who has an interest in either maintaining the status quo, discouraging any change, or insisting that there's only one way to engage with/think about this issue? Who is being harmed and who is being helped by this rhetoric, including and especially when you yourself are encouraged to immediately spread it without criticism or cross-checking? Does it rely on obvious lies, ideological misinformation, or something designed to make you feel the aforementioned negative emotions? Is it independently corroborated? Where is it sourced from? When you put the author's name into Google, what comes up?

Also, I think it's important to add that as a result, it's simply not possible to distill complicated information into a few bite-sized and easily digestible social media chunks. If something is difficult to understand, that means you probably need to spend more time reading about it and encountering diverse perspectives, and that is research and work that has to take place primarily not on social media. You can ask for help and resources (such as you're doing right now, which I think is great!), but you can't use it as your chief or only source of information. You can and should obviously be aware of the limitations and biases of traditional media, but often that has turned into the conspiracy-theory "they never report on what's REALLY GOING ON, the only information you can trust is random anonymous social media accounts managed by God knows who." Traditional media, for better or worse, does have certain evidentiary standards, photographing, sourcing, and verifying requirements, and other ways to confirm that what they're writing about actually has some correspondence with reality. Yes, you need to be skeptical, but you can also trust that some of the initial legwork of verification has been done for you, and you can then move to more nuanced review, such as wording, presentation of perspective, who they're interviewing, any journalistic assumptions, any organizational shortcomings, etc.

Once again: there is a shit-ton of stuff out there, it is hard to instinctively know or understand how to engage with it, and it's okay if you don't automatically "get" everything you read. That's where the principle of actually taking the time to be informed comes in, and why you have to firmly divorce yourself from the notion that being socially aware or informed means just instantly posting or sharing on social media about the crisis of the week, especially if you didn't know anything about it beforehand and are just relying on the Leftist Groupthink to tell you how you should be reacting. Because things are complicated and dangerous, they take more effort to unpick than just instantly sharing a meme or random Twitter video or whatever. If you do in fact want to talk about these things constructively, and not just because you feel like you're peer-pressured into doing so and performing the Correct Opinions, then you will in fact need to spend non-social-media time and effort in learning about them.

If you're at a university, there are often subject catalogues, reference librarians, and other built-in tools that are there for you to use and which you SHOULD use (that's your tuition money, after all). That can help you identify trustworthy information sources and research best practices, and as you do that more often, it will help you have more of a feel for things when you encounter them in the wild. It's not easy at first, but once you get the hang of it, it becomes more so, and will make you more confident in your own judgments, beliefs, and values. That way when you encounter something that you KNOW is wrong, you won't be automatically pressured to share it just to fit in, because you will be able to tell yourself what the problems are.

Good luck!

#coffeeandcoyotes #ask #school stuff #critical thinking

300 notes · View notes

plutowrites · 3 months

Text

𝘼𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣'𝙨 𝘾𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙨 𝙉𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙨 𝙔𝙤𝙪! (reworked)

important: I rewrote this fic (favorite Levi piece i’ve ever written) because I’ve been planning to do so for ages. I remember writing the original version in one night, and it was the most fun I’ve had writing a fic. I wanted to rewrite it because I knew it could be improved significantly, and in my humble opinion, this version is indeed a million times better! Just like the first time, I had so much fun working on this and making changes to improve the flow, fix typos, and include some extra fluff here and there. If you’ve read this before, I hope you can give it another try! mwahhh ♡

➸pairings: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

➸synopsis: the one where levi gets you as an assistant against his will and it turns out he needed you more than his company ever did

➸genre: enemies-ish (levi is just levi and y/n doesn’t get him yet) to friends to lovers, pining, modern au, fluff

➸contains: lots of sarcasm (Levi), profanity (again, Levi), mentions of food and eating. if there’s anything i missed pls let me know! Also completely sfw btw (as it usually is)

➸wordcount: 5.7k (updated word count)

➸(original) note: ok so I totally forgot Levi’s bday takes place on christmas so just ignore that fact, thank you :) i really hope you guys enjoy this one, i really enjoyed writing it. like a lot. as in this is my favourite piece i’ve ever written ♡

“Prior work experience?” Mr.Ackerman asks, his dark eyes scanning over you like you’re a puzzle he can’t be bothered to solve.

As the question hangs in the air, you find yourself shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. The impulse to talk with your hands, a habit when you’re feeling nervous, fights for release. You can sense mr. stone-face in front of you might not appreciate such animated conversation, or a one-person mime show so you resist the urge. “Well, let’s see,” you start, trying to recall your job history. “I was a sales associate at a retail store, a freelance writer for a few local magazines and websites, a long-term babysitter for three very naughty yet wonderful french children, oh and I briefly worked as a waitress— that was when I was eighteen but—”

The man interrupts you with a dry click of his tongue, his patience clearly wearing thin. “I mean, do you have any experience in this line of work?”

His question catches you off guard, prompting a frown. Isn’t he aware that every job has its messes? You’ve been part of the cleanup crew more times than you can count, and not to mention when you were a babysitter, you had to constantly tidy up after school aged children and the mess that always seems to follow them wherever they go. Whose fault is it that he’s not impressed by your eclectic job history?

Mr. Ackerman pinches the bridge of his nose, cutting through your thoughts, and exhales, “Can you f—cking clean?”

“Of course I can clean,” You snap back, your own patience fraying. “You hired me for this position, right? Besides, I’ve already passed the interview so why this interrogation now?”

Ugh. You were not expecting to get grilled at 8:30 in the morning today. Is this what the onboarding process at Mr. Ackerman’s Cleaning Services looks like?

He looks past you, probably wishing he could swap you with the agreeable plant behind you. “I didn’t hire you, Erwin did,” he clarifies, like that’s supposed to mean something to you. You watch him take a sip from his mug. The way he’s holding the cup intrigues you with his long, slender fingers barely clasping its rim yet he manages it with an effortless grace.

You remembered Erwin during your interview, the handsome blond man with broad shoulders and thick eyebrows. He was the one who asked the majority of the questions while his counterpart remained oddly quiet. Mr. Ackerman did, however, chime in near the end to pester you about how often you washed your hands. You fold your arms across your chest, defensively, “Had no idea you were against the idea of me.”

You remember when you got the position; a quick phone call with Erwin approximately 30 minutes after your interview, where he tells you that you had in fact gotten the job. You felt impressed with yourself. You knew it was the shorter, dark haired man that ran the business, and considering how indifferently he was behaving during the interview, you were already looking at new postings online when your phone rang. Getting the job was like passing a test you thought you had completely bombed.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was against hiring at all; I don’t need an assistant.” His tone is dismissive, yet his physical state—a sling on his right arm and a fracture boot on his left foot—tells a story of necessity, not choice. You want to teasingly ask how the other guy looks but you bite your tongue instead.

Maybe he’ll share what happened to him over time but for now, you won’t pester him about it. Based on this interaction alone, you know asking him such a personal question is not the best route to go. Mr. Sunshine seems like the type of no-nonsense, stick-in-the-mud that doesn’t appreciate a little conversation to make the day’s work go by faster. Unluckily for him though, you were the opposite of that.

“Mr. Ackerman,” you call out his name uneasily, feeling a mix of dread and embarrassment. Your boss had left you alone to retrieve something and in that time he was gone, you had already made a huge mistake. As Levi comes back into the kitchen, you notice his focus is on trying to put on thick, black sterile gloves instead of your blunder.

“Just Levi,” he corrects you without turning to face you. You grow more nervous.

“Okay, Levi…” You draw out his name, hoping it might soften the blow. “Um, where might one find a mop?”

His turn is cinematic, a perfect pivot of disbelief as his eyes land on the ocean of sticky raspberry lemonade—and you, the unfortunate island at its center. The same lemonade the kind owner of the house you were cleaning left out for you two to drink. The jug, now empty and rolling to a stop at his boot, seems to mock you both. He can’t seem to peel his eyes away from it.

“I was gone for five f—cking seconds.” The utter shock in his voice, evident.

“I didn’t peg you as a lemonade type of guy. I can make you some more if you’re that sad about it,” you awkwardly quip, trying to ease the tension in the room and failing, pathetically.

Levi’s response is flat, “You were supposed to help clean up messes, not create—or become them.”

Ouch.

By the end of the shift, Levi ended up doing most of the work which thoroughly impressed you. You’re certain that if he wasn’t limited by his fractured bones, he would cut his cleaning time by, at the very least, half. Still, he completed all the tasks before the client was back and with time to spare at that. Your role, it seemed, was relegated to fetching and carrying— you were simply a mobile extension of his toolkit. Disinfectants, buckets, and other cleaning materials pass from the van to his waiting hand, and your efforts were aimed at being useful, or at least not a speed bump in his way.

Anything Levi could do with one hand and one leg, he’d do it and everything else, he’d at least try. You felt more like a liability than an employee but that only made you more determined to be better next time, you wanted to prove to him that you could actually do your job and be good at it.

You are good at things.

You just needed to mess up a few times first.

Here’s what you know so far about your boss: He’s mastered the art of drinking tea while driving, never spilling a drop, even one-handed. His social circle is super tight-knit, featuring exactly two friends—one being Erwin Smith, who you’ve met already, and the other is Hange, who, from your top-notch eavesdropping skills, seems to bear the brunt of Levi’s scolding.

And lastly, you’ve learned that Levi’s vocabulary is dripping with colorful language.

“That’s not clean,” comes his voice from behind you, prompting an eye roll before you shove the plate back under the running faucet. A half-hearted swipe with the sponge and a too-forceful toss into the sink’s other side result in a loud clash. “Dirty and probably f—cking broken now, too,” Levi comments, sounding bored.

“Sorry,” you mutter. This marks the first time today he’s felt the need to correct you—a personal victory. You’ve been improving, receiving fewer icy critiques with each passing day. Maybe Levi’s just run out of energy for constant corrections, or perhaps he’s grown accustomed to your unique… flair. Either way, you’re grateful for the silence.

“You’re done, brat. Go home.”

“Don’t you need help with the counters?”

“I got it.”

You nod at this, turning off the water and drying your hands on the apron’s front-pocket towel, relief washing over you as the day wraps up. You can’t help but wonder what Levi does after hours—probably waits for you to leave so he can meticulously re-clean everything. But, you figure, if he really doubted your skills that much, he wouldn’t bother waiting for your exit to do it.

“Good job today.”

Levi’s words catch you off-guard, nearly causing you to gasp. The Levi Ackerman, offering praise? Have you smelled too many cleaning solutions? Are you imagining things?

He doesn’t see your shocked expression, your mouth hanging open in surprise. You quickly stifle a smile.

Maybe, working with Levi Ackerman won’t be the nightmare you had anticipated.

It was uncommon for the Ackerman company to have a client that requested cleaning services for any place other than their home but on some rare instances, the business would get one that would request Levi for a much larger setting.

Today, you two were cleaning hotel rooms.

“I take it this isn’t your first rodeo,” you comment, noting how Levi, despite being down to just two operational limbs, zips through tasks with astonishing speed. Your job is to vacuum the ugly, vomit green carpet, while Levi single-handedly makes the queen beds look pristine—a feat that seems Herculean.

He signals you over, instructing you to strip the beds so he can check for bedbugs. “I’ve cleaned here before, yes,” he says with a frown, urging you to lift the mattress higher. “No, higher. Y/n. Higher. Are you making fun of my height?”

“No!” you protest, but the smirk on your face betrays you. You could swear you see the corners of Levi’s mouth twitch in response. This is the first time you’ve ever seen your boss smile.

Kenny Ackerman, Levi’s uncle, is the polar opposite—always grinning and brimming with charm. His visits, armed with homemade lunches for Levi and flirty comments for you, are a welcome break from the norm. Levi, one time catching you staring at the lunch Kenny brought in a brown paper bag, admits his uncle started bringing food over when he first got hurt.

“Is Ken really your uncle, or more like a family friend uncle?“ You inquire as you both move to the next suite, settling into a comfortable work rhythm. Levi seems unfazed by your curiosity, which you’ve piqued frequently over the past few weeks.

He ignores your question but raises an eyebrow at you, “Ken?”

You press on, asking if Kenny might be a close friend of his dad’s, given their dissimilar appearances. Levi’s reaction to the mention of his father is a clear signal to change the subject.

"Fluff the pillow on your side, brat,” he instructs next.

You’re not sure what constitutes fluffing but you attempt to do so anyway by gently pressing down on the soft pillow. You can feel the heat of Levi’s glare torching you but when you look up at him, he looks sort of amused. “What palace were you raised in?”

“Huh?”

“Let me rephrase that then—do you not know what fluffing a pillow is?”

“I just did it!”

“No. What you did was give that pillow a shitty massage. Give it to me.” After you hand it to him, Levi aggressively demonstrates what he wants you to do but it looks awkward because he’s doing it with one arm. “F— ck,” he curses under his breath. “Maybe I should hire an assistant for this shit.”

You can’t help but smile, recognizing this interaction for what it is—Levi’s way of opening up. These past weeks have shown you that his gruff exterior hides a form of friendly banter, warming you from the inside out whenever you get to experience it.

You’ve actually begun to look forward to Levi’s humour.

Odd.

You have got to stop staring and you know this. It’s just whenever he’s preoccupied with something and his concentration is laser focused, you can’t keep your eyes off him. You’ve convinced yourself that this was the safest way you could be semi-creepy and so far, it’s proven to be effective.

Right now, he’s on a very urgent and pressing phone call, at least that’s what it looks like to you. Just the mere thought of Levi taking notice of you gawking at him from above through a crack in the curtains is enough to send you spiralling. And yet here you are…still…

“Y/n, you’re staring.”

Shit.

Thankfully, it’s Erwin who catches you, not Levi. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you scramble for an excuse. “No, I w-wasn’t. I was j-just—”

Erwin’s laughter cuts you off, deep and rich. “It’s fine. I stare at him all the time. The difference is he doesn’t cuss you out the way he does me.”

Your heart skips a beat. “What do you mean? You think he’s noticed me staring?” You sneak another glance at Levi, who’s now expressing his disdain for the caller, blissfully unaware of your current predicament.

“Most definitely. And his silence on the matter is telling,” Erwin says with a reassuring smile. But his words leave you more curious than comforted. What does Levi’s silence mean? He continues, “It’s his birthday tomorrow since I know he wouldn’t dare tell you. Do what you wish with that information.”

As if he had a special sixth sense that alerted him that he is the topic of discussion upstairs, Levi waltzes into his office and squints with suspicion at the two of you huddled in a hush-hush conversation. “Oi, eyebrows. Don’t you have a vulnerable citizen to harass for their vote somewhere?”

Erwin shakes his head as he laughs. Looking at you, he says, “Don’t listen to him. I’m not a dirty politician.”

“You’re definitely dirty, get off my chair.”

One thing you wonder about when you see these two in action is how they ever became friends. They aren’t exactly drowning in similarities or mutual interests but you couldn’t deny that there is a deep-rooted respect that goes further than what you’re able to decipher. You do know that Erwin owns the entire building and he lets Levi rent office space and storage rooms here but you question which came first: the business relationship or the friendship?

“Before I head out,” Erwin turns to face you, “I can count on your vote, right? For the upcoming election?” He asks, raised eyebrows and all. The surrounding air is filled with his scent. His woodsy cologne is thick but pleasant—it suits him.

Before you’re able to answer, Levi cuts you off, “My office is not a breeding ground for your pathetic campaign efforts.”

“My building.”

“F—ck off.”

You smile at their banter— their exchange is a familiar dance, one you’ve grown accustomed to observing. But your thoughts are elsewhere, pondering Levi’s upcoming birthday. You’re grateful Erwin mentioned it; he’s right, Levi would never share that information himself.

You find yourself wanting to do something for him— maybe get him a gift? What started off as a hostile, awkward work relationship has blossomed into a real friendship and you would never let a friend’s birthday go by without doing a little something special for them.

Levi also is a great boss, who deserves a birthday treat.

Perhaps there’s more to your admiration than you’re willing to admit quite yet.

Arriving at Levi’s office early in the morning, you’re greeted by the sight of him on his laptop, deeply engrossed in his work, his fingers flying across his keyboard. The morning light catches in his dark hair— the sun rays highlighting his intense gray-blue eyes. You can’t help but be captivated as he brushes his hair back with a weary hand. You lose your mind when he does that; he’s blissfully unaware of how mind-blowingly attractive he is.

You linger in the doorway awkwardly, feeling suddenly out of place, reminiscent of a child caught in a mischievous act. When Levi finally notices you, his sigh fills the room. “It’s your day off.”

Taking his acknowledgment as an invitation, you step inside, cheerfully reminding him, “It’s your birthdaaaay,” your voice in a tune.

Almost immediately he retorts,“Exactly why I gave you a day off. A treat for me.”

You ignore him. “I wanted to take you out for breakfast.”

“I don’t pay you that much,” he scoffs, still tapping away on his keyboard.

He’s wrong, Levi pays you more than you’ve ever been paid in your life, even more than when you were working at that super pretentious magazine that bragged about how well they treated their employees. Turns out their idea of spoiling their staff was a pizza party every third Sunday of the month. It was pitiful. Levi Ackerman believes in a living wage. Levi Ackerman is a good man.

“Sit down, will you? You’re stressing me out just standing there,” he says, his eyes softening at you for a moment, allowing you a glimpse of his gentler side.

With a sheepish grin, you pull up a chair, the noise seeming to amplify in the quiet office. You quickly apologize for the disruption, settling into the seat across from him.

“We can grab something to eat once I’m done with a few things. Is that okay with you, princess?”

“Anything for you, birthday boy,” you respond warmly, beaming at him.

He veils his amusement with a face of semi-disgust, “Vile.

“You know, when someone says they want to take you out for breakfast, there’s usually a time limit involved.” It’s now 12:03 pm, and your patience, though thinly stretched, hasn’t snapped—yet. Levi’s gaze softens, a hint of guilt flickering in his eyes. Rushing to lighten the mood, you add, “I’m kidding. I’m more of a brunch person, anyway.”

“And what about my preferences?” His voice, gentle and distant, pulls at something inside you.

“Of course, it’s your birthday,” you remind yourself aloud, tapping your fingers against the edge of his desk. “So, what do you like, Levi?”

The pause before he answers is loaded, his look implying you ought to know his preferences by heart. “I like silence when I work,” he finally says.

Right. You nod and mime locking your lips, leaning dramatically back in your chair, only to find yourself fighting off sleep shortly after.

“Time to wake up, princess. I have a task of royal importance for you,” Levi’s low, velvety command has you instantly alert. “You’re going to answer all my texts. They’re birthday wishes; just read them out and reply.”

Grinning at the trust he’s placing in you, you take his phone and start sifting through the messages. “Wow, didn’t peg you for Mr. Popular,” you tease. Levi rolls his eyes and then urges you to continue, unfazed.

Your eyes widen as you encounter messages from unexpected senders. “Uhm, I see some local celebrities in here. Wanna explain, Levi?"

“Just friends. And mind your business,” he grumbles.

Reading a message from Hange aloud, you watch his reaction closely. “Happy birthday, shortstack. I promise I’m not planning anything extravagant for you but just so we’re on the same page, define extravagant winky face,” you echo their playful tone.

“You’re smiling,” you point out, unable to resist.

“Hange’s full of it. Skip that one,” he dismisses, though his brief grin tells another story.

As the day stretches into evening, with work piling up and plans going awry, you can’t help feeling a mix of disappointment and defeat. Was this the universe’s way of suggesting you rethink your interest in Levi?

“I’m sorry,” Levi finally breaks the silence, noting the time—6:17 pm. Your attempt to brush off the day’s letdown with a smile doesn’t fool him.

“I’m sorry you had to spend your birthday in an office,” you shrug.

“It’s not about my birthday, I just hate making you wait,” he says, sincerity lacing his words.

You try to wave it off, “Water under the bridge.”

He surprises you then, “Can I take you out to dinner?”

“It’s your birthday,” you protest, the absurdity of the situation not lost on you.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he quips, his signature dose of sarcasm in his voice.

“The whole point of me coming here was to take you out Levi!”

He sighs while standing up. Reaching for his coat, which had spent the day forgotten over his chair, he juts his chin towards the door. “Fine. So take me out then.”

You had pegged Levi for the type to frequent pretentious, overpriced restaurants — the kind that serves a single asparagus spear drizzled with truffle oil and charges a fortune. So, when he mentioned knowing a place for dinner just a couple of streets over, you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. Despite dressing decently for Levi’s birthday, you weren’t in anything particularly fancy. And Levi, always impeccably dressed as if he were campaigning for office alongside Erwin, would surely fit in anywhere he chose. You remind yourself to relax; after all, it’s just dinner.

“I hope you like Indian food,” Levi says as you reach the destination. He holds the door open for you, the gentleman that he is at heart. You didn’t just like Indian food; you adored it, savored it every chance you got.

“Yeah, I don’t mind it,” you shrug casually, trying to mask your excitement.

Once seated by a friendly teenage waitress, you take in the ambiance of the restaurant. It’s a cozy, bustling hole-in-the-wall, filled with lively conversation and vibrant energy. It’s loud enough to make you reconsider Levi’s alleged preference for silence. If he can enjoy his time in a place like this, he can surely handle your occasional chattiness at work.

“This is a cute little place,” you admit, taking in the bright decor and the charming, unlit lanterns on each table.

“Family-owned too,” Levi grunts, passing you a menu.

You beam at him, “I like that.”

After ambitiously ordering nearly everything on the menu, eager to sample the array of dishes, you start bombarding Levi with questions. “Have any siblings?”

“No, and you’ve already asked me that before. Running out of questions?” he teases.

“Pets?”

“No.”

“Are you in a relationship?”

He chokes on his water, fixing you with a stern look. “Y/n.”

“What? You know I’m nosy. You should be prepared by now,” you lean in, undeterred by his reaction, “Have you ever been in a relationship?”

“Yes.”

“Are you in one right now?”

A beat passes. “No."

His hesitation sparks your curiosity further. "But you hesitated. Why did you hesitate, Levi?”

“Holy shit—” He’s cut off as the waitress returns, skillfully balancing the array of dishes you’d ordered. You offer her an apologetic smile, silently vowing to tip generously for the trouble.

As the tantalizing aromas of the dishes fill the air, you resist the urge to dive in immediately, mindful of the impression you want to leave on Levi. However, his encouragement, “Eat. You’re not fooling anyone,” paired with your enthusiasm for the rogan josh placed directly in front of you, quickly shatters any pretense of sophistication.

“Shut the hell up,” you gasp between bites, your initial reservations forgotten in favor of savouring the delicious food.

“Oi, slow down. You’ll choke,” Levi warns, amusement lacing his voice.

“This is so good, Levi,” you manage to say, your expression one of pure delight.

He chuckles to himself, looking away as he does so. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him laugh like that. You study his face, wishing you could capture this moment in a recording so you won’t ever forget it. It’s fine, you think to yourself. You just have to memorize the sound of his laugh and live off of it forever.

Eventually Levi says, “Why don’t you try this one too,” he pushes the plate of lamb biryani over to you, patiently waiting for you to take some.

This has to be your love language—sharing food.

You’re so happy you never want to leave this table, or Levi. Mostly, Levi. And this biryani.

“Do you like your job?” His question startles you. It came out of nowhere.

You swallow your food. “I do.”

Cocking your head to the side, you watch as he struggles to find the right words to use to form his questions. His eyes lock with yours and this time they stay there. “I’m not too…overbearing?” he asks, gently. Almost shyly.

“You’re the perfect amount.”

“Are you happy?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Levi Ackerman, owner of Ackerman’s cleaning services?”

“That’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do.”

“I’m happy working. I’m actually happiest working with you,” you admit, heat rising to your cheeks. Levi doesn’t say anything but you read something on his face. Relief? Maybe.

Eventually you realize it was Levi looking pleased with your answer.

“Cleaning is an honorable job,” you say after Kenny has left. He had made some stupid joke about Levi’s work despite how popular and very needed his services are.

“Y/n, quit it. Seriously. I don’t give a shit.”

“No, I know. I do, I just…” You take a deep breath in and turn to face him. He’s wearing his usual scowl on his face—the curve of his mouth slightly turned downward and his nose is scrunched up the tiniest bit. You could just about kiss that wrinkle between his eyebrows away if he’d let you. Smiling, you finish, “I just wanted you to know.”

“I enjoy spending time with you.”

You feel your stomach perform its now-famous acrobatics, seemingly attempting to tie itself in knots. Laughing nervously, you manage to say, “That’s good because we do spend a lot of time together. It would be awkward if you didn’t like me, right?”

Levi exhales deeply, a sign you’ve missed the mark. “You’re not getting it. With other people, I’m always on edge, wondering if I’m being friendly, engaging, or polite enough. Constantly checking if my permanent resting scowl has scared someone off again. It’s exhausting. People drain me, but the ones who don’t… I prefer to keep them close.”

“So, you’re saying you want me around indefinitely?” you push, hope coloring your tone.

“I’m saying thank you. You—” he stops himself when he catches you hanging onto every last word coming out of his mouth, waiting for the rest. He rolls his eyes a little bit which makes you smile even harder.

“Yeah?” You pester him, not willing to let the moment pass.

“Nothing.”

“Say it.”

“F—ck off.”

Undeterred, you flutter your eyelashes in a playful, last-ditch effort. “Please? I’d really love to hear what you were about to say.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he relents. “You make it okay to be myself.”

You laugh, “Levi, I don’t think you’re aware of how okay you are.”

He smiles the tiniest bit, “Charming.”

“No, you know what I mean. You’re obviously more than okay!”

“Mhm,” he murmurs, beginning to walk away but not without leaving his hand lingering in the air behind him—a silent invitation to grab onto it. If there’s anything you look out for, it’s the opportunity to touch Levi and in this case, to hold his perfect hand in yours. You follow him as he leads you back to that restaurant he first took you to.

“Have you guys kissed yet?” Hange leans towards you, excitedly waiting for your response. You catch Levi’s eyes on you from across the room but lately, they seem to always be on you. He’s pretending to be engaged in a way too animated conversation with Erwin and his politician buddies. Poor guy.

“Please, we’re not even a thing yet,” you snort, waving away the ridiculousness of the question.

“Okay, well, does Levi know that you’re not a thing? Because he already bought matching stuff for you at his condo.”

“What? really?”

Hange lists the items: cat mugs, slippers, and even matching gloves.

“He’d have a fit if he knew you spilled this top secret info,” you say, feeling a mix of excitement and disbelief.

Hange waves off the potential threat to their well-being with a scoff. “Oh, he’d definitely kill me. But it was too juicy not to share,” they wink, leaving you grinning from ear to ear.

You were finally at Levi’s impeccably clean and tidy place and you have to stop yourself from looking around for all the things Hange mentioned earlier. You’re sitting in the living room, on his comfortable green couch while Levi is making you a cup of tea in the kitchen. You wonder if he hid the matching mugs in the back of his cabinet. When will he think it’s an appropriate time to show them?

Or.

What if they weren’t even for you—what if there was someone else in his life he’s willing to be all matchy-matchy, cutesy-cutesy with?

Levi eventually comes out with two non-matching mugs; one for you and one for him. You feel a little disappointed when you see them but you swallow it down. “I should’ve been the one making the drinks. I’m not the one who’s injured.”

“Please, you watch me mop floors and wipe windows on one foot without ever offering to help. I even catch you smirking sometimes.”

You bite back a grin. “Hey!” You shout. He’s not entirely wrong but you know he would never let you intervene with his little tasks like mopping the floor or wiping down windows— they were therapeutic acts to him. What kind of monster would take that away from a man? Exactly.

“I hope you’re not completely traumatized by that gathering. I needed you there, I wouldn’t have been able to survive it without you.”

“I’m glad to be your knight in shining armor tonight,” you tease, taking the cup of tea from him and turning your body towards his. “Does Erwin usually host stuff like that?”

Levi sends you a look. “Always. And of course I had to choose a f—cking politician to be friends with.”

You chuckle, “Between Erwin, Hange, and me, you’re good to never have another social interaction for the rest of your life.”

He laughs out through his nose, similarly to how a dragon would breathe fiery flames out its nostrils. “I must be some extrovert magnet.”

“You are! Even with that permanent scowl on your face.” Your beautiful, beautiful face, you want to add. “Levi Ackerman, you are a prize. The prize.”

His eye-roll is theatrical, but you catch a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“Are we a thing?” you ask gently, after some time.

“A thing?” He repeats after you, quietly.

“Like, you know,” you bite your lip. This could potentially be a dumpster fire of a conversation. Awkward and embarrassing depending on how he responds. “—like a couple.”

He sets down his cup on the coffee table, probably sensing the seriousness of the moment, and you do the same. “We can be.”

Oh okay, not the worst possible answer there is.

“Do you like me?”

He looks as if you just stabbed him, or more like you stabbed his mother in front of him and he had to watch in horror. “I’m going to be honest, y/n, i’m kind of f— cking devastated you’re asking me this.”

“I can’t ask?”

“No, it’s just… Shit.” His eyes dart frantically between you and the floor, a clear sign of the turmoil within. It’s evident he’s wrestling with a multitude of thoughts, and all you yearn for is a glimpse into even just one of them. After a tense few seconds, he straightens up and meets your gaze directly, a pained expression etched across his features. “I’m upset at the fact that you’re walking around not knowing that I like you— and the fact that you even have to ask? That there’s any doubt about my feelings for you?” He pauses, taking a deep breath before he adds, “I’m sorry. Yes, I like you. I’m upset at myself that I didn’t make myself very clear about how I feel about you before. I’m sorry.”

You can feel your eyes beginning to burn and you don’t even know why you’re about to cry. You just wanted Levi to like you, so, so much.

The realization that you’re panicking both internally and visibly prompts you to stand, aiming for a quick escape. "This is good. Okay. So, I’ll see you at work tomorrow morning?”

Levi chuckles at your abruptness, “Yes, you will, but could you maybe not try to flee the scene?”

“I have to go,” you insist, though your feet betray you and show no intention of moving.

“F—cking hell. You planning an escape route?” Levi raises his eyebrows.

“I’m not escaping…” you confess, surprising even yourself.

“Then sit,” he commands gently, softening it with a, “Please?”

“I’m so nervous. Stop making me nervous.” You blurt out but decide to sit down anyway. The way he’s staring at you like you’re bonkers out of your mind right now is enough to make you burst into laughter. You snort against the back of your hand. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“Can’t make you nervous, can’t look at you. Is there anything I can do? Should I turn around and face the wall?” He mocks you, lovingly. His tone doesn’t say it but his eyes do. Everything he does to you is with love. No wonder you’ve fallen head over heels for him.

“You do realize you’re my boss, right?” you giggle, a sound so foreign to you. “I haven’t giggled like this since middle school. What’s happening to me?”

Levi beams at you, “Great, just what I needed, a subordinate with a crush. Now I have to navigate office politics, power imbalances, get HR involved…”

He pulls you onto his lap.

Your arms wrap tightly around Levi’s chest from behind him, as you rest your chin in the nook of his neck. He’s writing an email to someone, as he usually is during this time of the day.

Jokingly you ask, “When are you going to promote me, huh?”

“I did promote you,” you can hear the smile in his voice. He stops his typing to bring your hands to his mouth. He peppers them with a thousand pecks.

“Employee to girlfriend does not count”

“Shit,” he mock curses, then grins at his screen which you catch in its’ reflection.

“I have another question,” you announce, sensing an opportunity to delve into one of the many mysteries surrounding your lover.

“You always do,” he shoots back without missing a beat, fingers resuming their dance across the keyboard.

“Very funny.” You roll your eyes before pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his neck, savouring the coolness of his skin. “But seriously, honey. You never did tell me how you managed to break your arm and leg.”

written 2021, reworked 2024

#levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman fanfiction #aot x reader #aot imagines #attack on titan fanfiction #levi x you

105 notes · View notes

dagwolf · 1 year

Text

Recent viral images of Southwest agents getting yelled at and crying have resurfaced a valuable lesson about the nature of our economic system that’s worth examining this holiday season: the deliberate, built-in ways corporate “customer service” is set up to not only shield those on the top of the ladder—executives, vice presidents, large shareholders—but pit low-wage workers against each other in an inherently antagonistic relationship marked by powerlessness and frustration. It’s a dynamic we discussed in “Episode 118: The Snitch Economy—How Rating Apps and Tipping Pit Working People Against Each Other,” of the Citations Needed podcast I co-host, but I feel ought to be expanded on in light of recent events. Watching video after video, reading tweet after tweet, describing frustrated stranded holiday travelers yelling at Southwest Airlines workers, and hearing, in turn, accounts of airline workers and airport staff breaking down crying, is a good opportunity to talk about how none of this is natural or inevitable. It is a choice, both in corporate policy and government regulation.

There are three main ways capital pits workers against each other in the relationship we call “customer service”:

1. Snitch economy. As discussed in Citations Needed Ep. 118, we are provided with more and more apps, websites, and customer surveys to effectively do the job of managing for management—free of charge, of course. Under the auspices of “empowering” the consumer, we are told to spy on our low-wage servants and gauge the quality of their servitude with stars, tips, and reviews. Uber, DoorDash, Fiver, Grubhub—a new “gig economy” has emerged that not only misclassifies workers as freelancers to pay them less, but hands over the reins of management to the consumer directly. This necessarily increases the antagonism between working-class consumers and the workers they are snitching on.

2. Automation. Increasingly, even getting to the bottom rung employee to yell at is difficult. Under the thin pretense of Covid, increased labor power has exploded the use of automated technology that creates a frustrating maze to get a simple problem solved or task accomplished. Don’t go to the register, instead download the app and order. Scan the QR code, don’t wait on hold, go to our website and engage a series of automated prompts and maybe you can solve your problem. More and more consumers are being pushed away from humans onto automated systems we are told will “save us time,” but instead exist solely to save the corporation labor costs. So, by the time the average consumer does finally work their way to seeing a human, they are annoyed, frustrated, and angry at this faceless entity and more willing to take it out on someone making $13 an hour.

One recent visit to Houston’s George H.W. Bush airport portended our obnoxious “automated” future. To cut down on unionized airport labor, all the restaurants use QR codes and require you to order food and drinks for yourself. Per usual, it’s sold as an exciting new technology that’s somehow good for consumers, but really the basic technology is 30 years old. It’s just a screen—the same ones restaurants have had for decades. The only thing that’s changed is the social conditioning of having you do all your own ordering and menu navigation. The waiter hasn’t been replaced by an iPad, they’ve been replaced by you. Invariably, it’s clunky and annoying and reduces the union jobs that airport construction is said to provide to justify soliciting public dollars. The only winner is a faceless corporation with a Delaware LLC and its shareholders living in a few counties in Connecticut and Texas.

Automation not only annoys and adds labor burdens to the customer, there is also evidence that it is a significant contributor to income inequality. A November 2022 study published in the journal Econometrica looked at the significantly widening income gap between lesser and more educated workers over the past 40 years. It found that “automation accounts for more than half of that increase,” as summarized by MIT News. “This single one variable … explains 50 to 70 percent of the changes or variation between group inequality from 1980 to about 2016,” said MIT economist Daron Acemoglu, co-author of the study. Whether or not, under a different economic system, automation could be a force for good is a debate for another day. But what is clear is that, while both consumers and workers are harmed by this trend, there is a significant want of solidarity between them.

3. Deliberate understaffing. This is a major culprit in this week’s Southwest Airlines meltdown. In parallel with the increased use of forced automation, cost-cutting corporations, facing increased labor power, are gutting staffing to its bare bones and hoping their corporate competitors doing the same will lead to a shift in consumer’s willingness to put up with substandard service and conditions, and overall bullshit. “We apologize for the wait,” the automated phone prompt tells us. Of course a machine cannot be contrite, so the effect is both surreal and grating: You’re not fucking sorry, you don’t exist. You're a recording. But now, who am I yelling at?

...

556 notes · View notes

luvvixu · 1 year

Text

dazai x reader (she/her)

🏡🧵 home sweet home pt. 1

series

genre: fluff, domestic au

synopsis: what does it look like to have a normal daily life at dazai's household? just you coming home to your little family after a long and exhaustion work. this is the life you and dazai had been dreaming of.

warning: mentioned of breastfeeding, pranking, anxiety

word count: 1.5k

a/n: i got inspired to write a story when i saw a website that said this song is the most therapeutic breastfeeding song. and it came to happened that dazai was the last anime character i saw that day.

so i was like, hmm...what would it be like to have a family with my suicidal maniac crush? so yeah, here it is.

oh yeah, one last note, i kinda made him self-explanatory character on this one???

song - invisible string by taylor swift

a long day just ended for you as a sigh escaped from your lips. you are on your way home to your little family after doing some shift at the agency.

while waiting for the traffic jam to untangle, you open your phone and reveal the wallpaper that never fails to make you smile whenever you see it.

a picture of your new born baby and your husband, dazai osamu.

the statement never lies, your lips crescent a smile at the sight of your little family. you also decided to call your husband who's on his day off and being a male wife for today.

within a few rings, dazai picked up the phone. the sound of your baby's laughter first rang through the phone, making your smile widen.

"hello, my love~ are you on your way home?" your husband's honeyed voice said through the phone.

your shoulder loses its tense from the fatigue just by hearing the sound of him. "yeah. i'm sorry if i didn't arrive on time, there's a small emergency happened. but atsushi-kun and i have already settled it down before it gets worse."

"of course, my wife is good at solving problems." dazai complimented you. he always knows what is best for you.

"anyways, how's things going there?"

"ooh, wait. hey emi-chan! say hi to mama." you hear a baby noise as your husband shifts his phone onto someone.

"emi-chan~" you cooed, and your five month old baby let out a cute babble just by hearing your voice. it makes you laugh and almost die on your spot due to her overflowing cuteness.

"did you miss mama?" your back rested on the seat as your vehicle started to move. luckily, you had a phone holder in front so you won't have to hold it while driving at the same time.

"yes." dazai said in his baby voice, imitating your daughter.

you let out a giggle. "mama misses you too, emi-chan. when i get home, i will kiss your chubby cheeks and watch cartoons together!"

"yah! what about me?" your another baby—i mean dazai interrupted you. a picture of him pouting already depicted on your mind.

"hmm? are you saying something, emi?" you playfully said. the noises coming from osamu intensify. he was complaining, pouting, and whining at you like a big baby. your big baby.

"ahem! sweetheart, emi-chan just asked me if you miss your husband too?" sensing that you did not plan to respond to him as your husband, he changes his tone into a deeper one, like an incognito voice.

"who's there with you, emi?! did you let someone enter the house?" you continued to play dumb until you finally pulled up to your house where your two babies are in.

dazai was whining on the phone and he seemed to want to fight his daughter just because he didn't receive any attention from you.

ignoring him, you purposely muted the call and lowered the volume as you carefully tip-toed inside the house.

"mommy is such a tease, isn't she?" and there you saw your own family. emi was sitting on her father's lap while chewing her pacifier, and dazai was on the floor, still pouting as he talks to his child who's clearly unaware.

"i'm getting jealous of you now, emi-chan." he jokingly said, booping her nose and then proceeded to bite her chubby cheeks carefully. you forced yourself to swallow the laugh in your throat.

"y/n has been unresponsive for a while, did she end the call?" dazai checked his phone when he realized you had been really quiet. the call was still on, so he sought for you.

"darling? are you still there?"

no answer.

"y/n? hello? sweetie, can you hear me?"

still no answer.

suddenly, his pout turns into a deep frown. you could clearly see that he's becoming worried now to the point that he put emi back to the cradle.

he squatted down to meet his daughter's gaze. dazai holds her little hands to give it some pecks. "emi, my cute little baby…stay here and do not do anything, alright? nothing's wrong so no need to worry. papa will keep you and mama safe."

your heart melted at the scene. no matter how worried he is, dazai wouldn't let himself show his fear in front of his daughter who cannot even understand anything, yet.

you knew you didn't make the wrong choice of starting a family with him.

"papa is just going to call mama." he continued. when you saw him about to pick up his call, you immediately ended the call.

you watch his face become more concerned when the call ends without even saying a goodbye to him.

dazai started to bite his nails, a secret habit of his whenever he feels anxious. without any second wasted, he called your number. the sound of your ringtone made him almost dashed to your hidden spot.

"y/n! my god, you're here!" dazai pulled you into a tight hug as soon as he saw you.

you let out an awkward chuckle. "hi?"

"jesus! don't do it again, please. i thought something happened to you!" dazai buried his face into the crook of your neck. you suddenly feel guilty when you sense his shaky breath.

he is really worried.

a hand if yours traveled into his head to give his fluffy brown hair a soft brush to give him comfort. "i'm sorry, baby. i didn't mean to get you worried. i just want to surprise you."

"it's alright—"

"waaahhhhhh!"

both of your heads immediately turned to the direction where the sound came from, emi was crying. you and osamu's parental instincts kicked in as you literally ran towards her.

you carefully picked her up and cooed. "shh~ mama's here, mama's here. aw, why is my baby emi crying?" you land a kiss on her cheeks that was covered with tears.

dazai gently guided you to sit on the couch. he grabbed a tissue and wiped the tears that emi had shed. "don't cry, emi-chan. we're here now." he mumbled softly.

you checked her diaper, it's not full. you tried to make her laugh, but still emi continues to wail loudly.

a sigh escaped from your lips. you gently rocked her and turned your head to your husband who worriedly gazed at his crying daughter.

"when was the last time she drank milk?" dazai ponders for a moment. his eyes widened when he realized.

"that's right! emi just woke up when you called me. she naps for like two and half hours. no wonder she cries because she's hungry." he explains.

"go and make her baby formula." you instructed him because you are busy soothing your child.

dazai chucked hesitantly. "the thing is, it ran out. emi drank the last baby formula earlier. so, i guess we're going to do the traditional way of feeding her."

"♪ and isn't it just so pretty to think ♪" dazai sang a song you two discovered while randomly streaming on spotify.

"♪ all along there was some ♪" he said to you that this song reminded him of the time when the two of you first met.

"♪ invisible string ♪" singing the invisible string has become his hobby whenever he is watching you putting emi to sleep. the song serves as the lullaby that made her fall asleep.

"♪ tying you to me~? ♪" your husband dedicated this song to you. not only it became your couple's love song, wedding song, and now your daughter's lullaby.

overall, this is a sweet moment. but it doesn't…

you tried not to lash out of dazai when he was right there beside you, watching how you breastfeed your daughter. his hands were fixed on emi's tiny ones, caging it playfully and made her squirm. which causes her to latches on your sore breast a bit harder than the usual sucking.

"osamu, for god's sake…let her feed in peace! and why are you even watching me feed her?" you caresses her head gently, making sure that she would not freak out at your little yell.

your husband rolled his eyes. "why not? i've also experienced that before…being fed by you—so, no need to be so shy about me witnessing it." this man had an audacity to make a dirty foreshadow in front of your daughter.

a pillow flew on his straight into his face. "osamu! i swear, get out for a moment." you tried to calm yourself. but dazai doesn't care and continued to play with emi, resting his head on your shoulder.

meanwhile, your little princess was in no mood to play with her daddy. emi got irritated because she couldn't move her hands, dazai has them. so, she let out a squirm and then a whine.

acting hurriedly, you rock her while giving your biggest death glare on your husband.

"welp…" dazai took the cue as he sheepishly go out of the room, finally giving you and emi some private time together.

"daddy is such a crackhead, isn't he?" you talked to your daughter who just looked at you with her big beautiful eyes while sucking your breast. you couldn't help but to squeal at your daughter.

"and you're such a cutie, emi-emi!"

©luvvixu2023

#dazai x reader #dazai fluff #dazai osamu #bsd #bsd dazai #domestic dazai #bungou stray dogs #fanfiction #anime #fluff #fanfic #luvvixu

248 notes · View notes

working-dreamer · 1 year

Text

I have seen the new Layton trailer and I have thoughts!

It’s interesting that they made a point to say that in this American town Layton is just an anonymous gentlemen while Luke has been solving mysteries and growing his reputation as a detective. Makes me wonder how that will affect their dynamic. On one hand I think Layton would be happy to see Luke has thrived on his own but I also think Layton will feel sad that he missed out on watching Luke grow up.

Will Layton feel oddly out of sorts because he’s so used to being well known? Or will he revel in the anonymity that this town brings? Will Layton wonder why Luke invited him since he seems to already have a handle on solving mysteries?

The website character portrait has new things to say about the characters. On Luke’s side it says he has become a detective. On Layton’s side… it says he has been acting on his own. Does this mean that Layton hasn’t done much of anything since the ending of Unwound Future? I mean it definitely makes sense because the ending of Unwound Future could naturally have left him depressed- what if that’s partly why Luke invited him to come solve a mystery in America? What if Luke just wanted see how Layton is holding up and to be there for him if needed? It probably won’t be that dark but that would be an interesting story right? Oh my heart!

I don’t think this game retcons Kat’s story. This game takes place one year after Unwound Future. Kat’s adventure takes place years after. I have yet to see the whole anime so I don’t know if Layton says he hasn’t seen Luke since Unwound Future but if so that might be the only detail that’s changed.

Can we have a cameo from Phoenix Wright? Come on, that’d be perfect!

Those sketches thooooo!!! Flora has grown up too!! Or maybe it’s Luke’s future wife?? Either way I’m excited!

On one hand it’s kinda funny that the ending card featured bullets and two bullet holes because ‘haha of course they would include guns in America’ but on the other hand…. They included guns. Real guns. Real bullets. IF LAYTON OR LUKE GETS SHOT I’M GONNA GO FERAL!

Overall I am so excited for what the future holds! Game looks good! Big excite!

249 notes · View notes

omegalomania · 1 year

Text

okay, couple things i haven't seen people comment on yet! bolded emphasis is mine and is not present in the original text.

Buzzed off of the alpenglow.

so "alpenglow" is a specific phenomenon when the setting sun lights up the horizon in deep rose hues and soft shadows. as you can see on the article images, this can often result in pink and purple visuals.

You never think you’d look back and be nostalgic for right now - For car rides that never seemed to end, the way the world used to look in 90s newscasts, or cloroxing your groceries before you bring them in from the garage…. To all the animals you see in the clouds and the faces you memorized in the tile of the shower in your childhood home- the pareidolla-n prince.

themes of nostalgia vs. reality are definitely present in all the teasing they've done for this album thus far. "field of dreams" addresses it directly. "dark city" is about memories of a place that never existed (the beach was never real). the bit in "reality bites" about the pink seashell addresses how we assign meaning to things that ultimately don't mean very much at all.

all of that also ties into the overall idea of searching out codes and meaning in things that might not have anything of the sort. more on that later.

Placing items in my cart and continuing shopping- but emotionally. You start to wonder if you have more good road being you than ahead. Shake it off. [...] Still trying to get free of everything we’re supposed to be.

this doesn't have any special meaning or context i just like the message. maybe just being your own silly weird self is worth more than looking ahead. when they made you they broke the mold. don't let expectation pigeonhole you in. just makes me fond!

Sometimes I feel like detective working a bad beat for too many years, chasing old leads- not ready to quit but unable to solve the case- just hoping I get more than a gold watch on my retirement day

[...]

PS (thanks for always sticking around. Thanks for working the beat. Spoiler alert: we got more than a gold watch coming for you next year).

this is the part that gets to me. this is an explicit comparison between US and the detective. sometimes pete feels like the detective...but at the postscript, the comparison is made explicit. we're the detectives, to him. we've been chasing leads - websites, postcards, whatever scraps we can find. we've been working the bad beat, and all the while they've been cooking up something special for us, and now that's about to pay off.

i will say for my part...i don't think there's any secret code here. the weird formatting, the punctuation, the inconsistent capitalization - aside from the wink-wink nudging at us ("pareidolia" refers to the inclination to look for patterns where none exist) - frankly, this is just how pete types! a lot of his old blogs and livejournals were peppered with grammar errors and misspelled words, because that's just how he wrote them out. and it takes me back some...there's that nostalgia again. how about that?

#fall out boy #fob #fob8 #*making poasts #its wild how with a couple paragraphs of writing pete can make me feel all warm and cozy against a blizzard #just got that way with words you know

243 notes · View notes

sixzeroes · 1 year

Text

walk with you.

summary | lee jeno has had you as his best friend for as long as he can remember. every step of the way, you were there, stuck to his side like glue. jeno always believed you’d be his best friend forever, so why is he starting to view you in a different, non-platonic light?

characters | lee jeno x reader(f).

genres | fluff, romance, slice of life, best-friends-to-lovers, childhood friends au, high school au, non-idol au.

warnings | profanity, johnny is jeno’s cousin, johnny is all-knowing and wise, mentions of alcohol consumption, jeno decides to avoid reader :((, unrequited feelings (but they’re actually requited and jeno’s just dumb), kissing at the end!!

word count | 5.6k

37.5MHz | walk with you by nct dream ⋆ beautiful by baekhyun ⋆ tiki-taka by crush ft. dpr live.

gonna be brutally honest idek what tf i was writing half the time so i rly hope the flow of this made sense!! 🥹🥹 but like f2l is lowkey difficult to write i’m never gonna do that again,, ep.02 of my candy! miniseries, but it can be read on its own!

“HEY SIRI, HOW DO I KNOW IF I LIKE SOMEONE?”

“Here’s what I found.”

5 Ways to Tell If You Like Someone

Here Are Seven Methods to Figure Out Your Feelings!

Take This Buzzfeed Quiz to See If You Like Them

Lee Jeno, a simple high school boy, clicks on the first link. The website opens immediately and the title stares at him in a fancy font. He scrolls, skipping the summary to get to the important part.

1. Does your heartbeat accelerate around them?

Jeno thinks back to a few hours ago, when he was walking you home after school. His heartbeat was a little off, speeding up whenever you flashed him a smile.

2. Do you think about them often?

Jeno ponders. He’s always thinking about you—you’re his best friend, after all. But does he think about you often in the romantic context? Hm, he’s not too sure.

3. Do you miss them when you’re not together?

Jeno nibbles on his lower lip. There have been many instances where he wished he didn’t move away and just had to walk up two flights of stairs to where you lived.

4. Do they make you feel good?

Jeno tilts his head. What does that mean? You definitely make him happy and bring joy to his everyday life, but does that qualify as ‘feel good’?

“Jeno! Come have dinner!”

The boy sighs, tossing his phone onto his bed. He scratches his head as he exits his bedroom, reevaluating his feelings based on the questions he just read. Jeno is eighty-seven percent sure the questions perfectly describe his situation when he’s around you. The remaining thirteen percent? He’s just misreading his own platonic feelings.

No, Jeno doubts he’s misreading anything. He’s just…unsure, considering this is the first time he’s ever liked a friend, much less his best friend of all people. He’s unsure if these feelings are even permissible. Can he like his best friend? Is that okay? Jeno’s seen plenty of friends-to-lovers in K-Dramas, and there’s always this hesitance in ‘ruining’ their friendship. What if the things Jeno feels will ultimately cause a rift between you and him? What will he do then? Die? He probably would, because Jeno finds it impossible to picture a future without you. (Some may say this is pure friendship. Donghyuck, the number one Jeno and Y/N shipper, says otherwise.)

This is a tough equation—it’s one of those questions where he’s solved a majority of the maths but needs some guidance on narrowing down the final answer to either three decimal places or two. Jeno is the struggling student, and his teacher?

“Bro, what’s taking you so long?”

Of course, who else other than Johnny Suh, his cousin and self-proclaimed ladies’ man from America?

Jeno shuffles out of his room, meeting Johnny in the hallway. “Can I ask you a question?”

The older man cocks a brow, lips shifting into an amused smile. “Shoot away.”

“Later, after dinner. Let’s go out for ice cream.”

“In this cold weather?”

“Or soju, if you’re okay with drinking alone.”

Johnny Suh’s character is full of surprises, to say the least. To begin, the Korean-American had bought two bottles of champagne back at the airport in Chicago as ‘housewarming gifts’ (“Wait, Jeno isn’t legal? That’s okay, I first drank when I was sixteen.”). Next, he went missing for a week straight (busy spending his nights at Gangnam and Itaewon), only remembering to send an i’m okay! be home this weekend :) text after Jeno’s mother threatened to report him missing. Then, he returned to Jeno’s place with a bunch of snacks from the nearby GS25, offering it as an apology for sending the household into chaos for the past week. Lastly, Johnny introduced a new outlook in Jeno’s life.

Or, well, he’s about to, considering his position in Jeno’s makeshift maths class scenario.

Johnny takes a swig of soju, releasing a satisfied hum after gulping the contents down. In contrast, Jeno nibbles on his ice cream bar, a little nervous to pop the question. He debates on how to word it but eventually gives up, deciding it’s better to be straightforward than to beat around the bush. “Is it…okay to like a friend?”

There’s a moment of silence. Jeno realises how ridiculous his question is. Johnny swirls his soju bottle. “Do you like someone, Jeno?”

“I—What—You can’t answer my question with a question!”

“Oh, I see,” says Johnny, a playful glint in his eyes. “This is about that friend of yours, right? That girl you’re always walking home even though she lives like thirty minutes away? What was her name again? Yonam? Yerna? Ah—Y/N?”

Jeno’s eyes widen and his cheeks grow red. “No! She’s just a friend. We’re just…friends.”

“Sure, sure,” goes Johnny, dismissing Jeno’s weak claims with a fling of his wrist. “Let me tell you something, Jeno. Girls and guys? We can never be ‘just friends.’ It doesn’t work like that, you know.”

“But…” the younger falters. “Don’t you have a lot of friends that are girls, Johnny? I’ve seen your Instagram stories.”

Johnny sips his drink. “That’s different. We’re different. You, my good boy, are a high school kiddo with raging hormones. I am willing to bet my entire life that you like Yona.”

“Y/N,” Jeno corrects him. “How can I be sure that I like her?”

“You can’t, unless you face her with those feelings.” the Korean-American turns to him with a stern face. He presses a finger against Jeno’s chest. “You can hide your feelings from your crush but don’t hide them from yourself. Bask in the fact that you like her while sitting in her presence. Observe yourself. Think about the situation. Are you sure you like her, yes or no?” Johnny finishes the rest of his soju. “Your answer doesn’t lie with me, Jeno. It’s within you.”

Jeno’s heart skips at Johnny’s words, overwhelmed with inspiration. “You’re…pretty poetic, Johnny.”

The latter smugly smiles. “My roommate’s a literature major. He’s kinda rubbing off on me.”

The rest of the evening passes by in a blur, with Johnny drinking four more bottles of alcohol inside the brightly lit convenience store. Jeno drags his feet back to the family apartment with Johnny in tow, the older man’s weight significantly slowing him down. When he arrives, his mother forcefully wakes the Korean-American up and scolds him for drinking so much on a weekday. In response, Johnny hugs her with an intoxicated laugh and falls asleep on the couch. During the entire ordeal, all Jeno can think of are Johnny’s wise words.

It’s within you.

Johnny’s right. In Jeno’s makeshift maths class scenario, the student is Jeno, but so is the teacher. He is the key to the equation he’s struggling to solve.

Tomorrow. When Jeno sees you tomorrow, he’s going to face his feelings and categorise it accordingly.

Wednesday mornings have never been this frightening.

In fact, Jeno has never feared anything as much as facing his feelings while you’re sitting right beside him during the regular route to school. Not much has changed since Tuesday morning: he got on the same subway at the same station with (relatively) the same people for another similar day. Except, he’s ninety-nine percent sure he likes you.

Okay, so maybe a bit has changed since Tuesday morning: he got on the same subway at the same station with (relatively) the same people for another similar day but with newfound emotions.

Johnny told him to ‘bask in his feelings’ and ‘observe himself.’

Jeno is doing everything but that.

He’s a nervous wreck, to sum it up. Every time the subway slows to a stop and your shoulder brushes against his, he feels as if his heart is going to swallow him whole. Whenever you bring up a meme, he absentmindedly laughs as three-fourths of his focus is poured into acting normal. There is little to no eye contact; obviously, Jeno finds the advertisements far more interesting than your pretty face.

Or maybe, he is basking in his feelings and observing himself. The realisation hits him as an elderly woman sits in the empty seat across from him. Jeno is anxious around you. He’s conscious of the way he acts, smells, talks, walks—whatever. You’ve known him his entire life and have seen him at his worst (i.e., his emo middle school era), and yet, Jeno finds the mere idea of you seeing his bedhead horrifying. Such self-awareness is a blessing and a curse.

“Jeno?” you chirp, poking the boy’s side. He reacts with a hum. “You’re awfully quiet today.”

He gulps, trying his best to maintain a cool facade. “I’m just tired,” he answers with a tight voice. “Stayed up late tending to my drunk cousin.” It’s not a complete lie—Johnny was intoxicated last night.

You brush a stray strand of hair out of his face. “Johnny? He’s your American cousin, right?”

Jeno tries to stay calm at your gesture but his ears are heating up. “Mhm. He’s…wild.”

The conversation dies down immediately. Jeno is jittery, his leg bouncing up and down, eyes darting from one passenger to another. He’s too preoccupied to notice your concerned gaze; too busy presenting himself as normal as possible without realising how abnormal he truly appears.

For the remaining minutes, you don’t say anything, choosing to scroll through your social media feed instead. During the short walk to school, again, no words leave your mouth. Jeno glimpses your quiet figure. Silence is strange on you, but he doesn’t try to tug a sound out of you.

This is the first time the two of you have ever been enveloped in such a sheer layer of awkwardness. Never has there been an instance where it was suffocating to be in the other’s presence—never, until Jeno’s heart decided to think on its own and develop feelings for you.

There.

He’s said it.

Lee Jeno likes you, one hundred percent confirmed during the subway ride to school.

One foot has been in the puddle for the past few weeks, testing the depth below the surface. He tested, and tested, and tested, until he slipped inside, drenching himself in the water.

Jeno wasn’t sure of his feelings. At one point, he figured this more-than-platonic affection for you was just a hoax (don’t ask him why, he doesn’t know either). All he did was sit next to you, just like any other day, with slightly different feelings. And all of a sudden, he fell, and oh, did he fall hard.

He’s drowning even though the puddle wasn’t that deep.

Or maybe, it’s always been that deep. Jeno just failed to realise it before.

“Jeno. You’re scaring Jisu with that glare of yours.”

Huang Renjun is standing diagonal to Jeno’s desk with a small carton of banana milk in his hand. The said boy glances over at his classmate, Choi Jisu, who’s clearly intimidated from his hardened stare. He loosens his expression instantly, averting his gaze back to his friend. “What time is it?”

“Eleven,” says Lee Donghyuck, popping out from behind Renjun. “What’s up with you today? You’ve been staring off into space for the entire morning.”

Na Jaemin, sitting beside him, nods in agreement. “Yeah. Are you sick or something?”

Renjun snorts. “He’s probably lovesick as always.”

Normally, when any of the three boys joke about you and Jeno’s friendship like that, Jeno would always grow defensive and borderline shout, “She’s just a friend!” But today, he sits with his lips pursed, unable to refute the claim. Renjun, Donghyuck, and Jaemin simultaneously drop their jaws.

“No way,” whispers Donghyuck, his eyes wide. “No fucking way.”

“Jeno, you…” Renjun trails off in shock.

Jaemin slaps his shoulder. “You actually like Y/N?”

If a tomato were a person, it would be Jeno. His ears burn and he avoids looking any of them in the eyes, choosing to bury his red face into his arms. He can hear the boys cheering, creating chaos over his recently established feelings. Someone—probably Donghyuck—pats his head, proud of his accomplishment.

“When did you realise?” Donghyuck asks, prodding Jeno’s ear. “You were always so disgusted whenever we called you two lovebirds. Why the sudden change of heart?”

Jeno shrugs, still facing the surface of his desk. “It just happened.”

Renjun finishes his banana milk. “You asked Siri, didn’t you?”

The lovestruck boy whips his head up, bewildered at the correct statement. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.”

A groan tumbles from Jeno’s lips as he shrinks into his seat. “I’m so screwed. How am I supposed to face Y/N now? I can’t let her know about my feelings. It’ll ruin our friendship.”

“Why do you think that?” Donghyuck says with a sly tone. He observes Jeno’s actions with a playful glint in his eyes. “You never know, she might like you back.”

Renjun chuckles at the not-so-subtle hint while Jaemin simply nods again.

Jeno frowns, sceptically eyeing each of them. “She doesn’t. She recently broke up with Soobin from Class 3-4, so there’s no way she’d develop feelings for me in the span of a month.”

“To be fair,” goes Renjun, “Y/N and Soobin only dated for two weeks. That’s nothing compared to the years you’ve spent together.”

“I agree,” hums Donghyuck, now fiddling with his pencil. “Who cares if her ex-boyfriend is a good-looking guy? You’re okay-looking, so I think you have a shot.”

Jeno rolls his eyes at Donghyuck’s impish grin. “Thanks, Hyuck. You light up my world.”

Jaemin taps the pads of his fingers against his chair. “Why don’t you distance yourself for a bit? Organise your thoughts on whether you’d like to attempt at something or just fold your feelings away.”

The bell rings, indicating the next period’s start. Renjun and Donghyuck retreat back to their seats and Jaemin pulls out an English novel. Ms. Son walks in with a cheerful smile, happily greeting the class to which the students respond. She begins by announcing an upcoming English story competition for anyone who may be interested, listing the important details with a sunny voice. Finally, she moves onto the contents of today’s class, asking everyone to bring out their copies of The Outsiders. Jeno nearly misses her instructions, only grabbing the book from his backpack when Renjun lightly kicks his chair. He tries to pay attention this time, considering how challenging English is, but to no avail, fails. Once again, Jeno’s mind becomes clouded with thoughts about you—only this time, the concern surrounds Jaemin’s suggestion.

Organise your thoughts.

Jeno isn’t sure about where to start.

He sighs, flipping through the pages until he lands on the chapter Ms. Son mentioned. As if his current predicament isn’t headache-inducing enough, the English alphabet is seeking to destroy his peace.

Whatever, he thinks to himself, opting to just stare out the window instead. I’ll figure this out later.

jeno: sorry, y/n. johnny wants to hangout after school today jeno: i don’t think i can walk you home

you: that’s okay!! i’ll see you tomorrow morning, jeno :)

Jeno feels a little guilty lying to you, but he needs to stay away from you right now. Whenever he’s near you, he buffers, unable to act like his usual self. Tonight, he’s going to lay in his bed and decide after thinking everything over. Tomorrow, he’s going to act upon his decision.

Jaemin sits across from him, going through a checklist of some sort. Apparently, the student body president managed to receive a green light for a ‘seniors only’ winter event, and Jaemin has been tasked with managing the necessary materials. Jeno knows his friend is displeased, but alas, he is only vice president, and whatever the president says, goes.

“You’re still here?” Jaemin suddenly inquires, looking up from the pages. “Didn’t Y/N’s club end ten minutes ago?”

Jeno exits Genshin Impact on his phone. “I told her I couldn’t walk her home today because of Johnny.”

“You lied.”

“So I can figure out my desires,” Jeno adds in defence. “I’m gonna take your advice and distance myself for a bit.”

The vice president sets his pen down and leans into his chair. “You should at least tell her you want space instead of avoiding her with no words. She’ll get hurt, you know.”

Jeno licks his lips. “I know, but I’m scared she might catch on if I tell her that. It’s no different from outright saying ‘Hey, I like you.’”

“I guess so.”

The duo are enveloped by silence as Jaemin returns to his duties and Jeno opens Genshin Impact again. He’s setting up to continue his previous play when a message from Johnny pops up.

johnny: yo jeno, wanna go out for dinner? i’ll pay

Jeno sits up straight. “Seems like I wasn’t lying after all. Johnny’s asking if I’m free. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jaem.”

“Mhm.”

jeno: gatten sushi??

johnny: DEAL

It’s been approximately one week since that fateful Wednesday morning, and Lee Jeno has been actively avoiding you. No, he did not heed Jaemin’s advice; he’s too scared to confront you like that. Every morning, he’d hit you with the same excuse over text:

jeno: sorry y/n, johnny wants to hangout until he leaves

And you would answer him with:

you: go have fun with your cousin <3

Jeno’s lies are terrible, he knows that. Somehow, the white lie has become so warped that Johnny now (probably) appears to be an obsessive cousin who’s unwilling to stay away except for during school hours. Johnny wants to walk with Jeno to school and hangout with him afterwards. That’s the story the lovesick boy is sprinting with, and although he feels bad for painting such a strange image of his cousin, it’s not like Johnny’s ever going to cross paths with you.

At least, not in the near future.

Jeno leaves for school an hour earlier than usual. He knows you have no club activities before school and you aren’t a morning person. The earliest you will ever wake up is seven a.m., so the chances of accidentally running into you is approximately four percent.

Jeno’s been successful so far. You haven’t come looking for him either, so he assumes you’ve either realised he needs space or are too busy with extracurricular activities to care.

(He really hopes it isn’t the second one.)

Donghyuck stuffs a spoonful of bulgogi and rice into his mouth, a blissful expression on his face. He continues to inhale more of his lunch until he suddenly perks up. “Look, lover boy. It’s Y/N.”

Instinctively, Jeno turns at the mention of you. He catches your figure standing in line for food with Roh Jeongui and Kim Chaewon. Your eyes meet his, and he offers a sheepish wave to which you smile back. Jeno’s nape grows hot.

You’re too pretty when you smile.

He shyly diverts his gaze to his food, scooping up a portion of his lunch to distract himself. Renjun nudges him with a teasing “Ooh,” which Donghyuck snickers at. Jaemin shakes his head but an amused grin graces his lips. Jeno tickles Renjun’s side. “Shut up, Huang.”

“You know, the winter event for seniors will be happening in nine days,” mentions Jaemin, stirring his soup. “Why don’t you take Y/N as your date?”

Donghyuck claps at the idea. “Jaemin, you wonderful, wonderful man. That is one wonderful idea!”

Renjun chimes, “How romantic. Feels like a fairytale.”

Jeno hopes his cheeks aren’t as rosy as he thinks they are. “No way. I’d rather just go with you guys.”

“Who said we’d want to go with you, though?”

He shoots Donghyuck a glare. “Do you even have a date, Hyuck?”

The younger one proudly grins, his chest puffing up. “I do, actually. I have Renjun.”

The said boy sticks his tongue out. “Too bad, I’m going with your sister, my girlfriend.”

“Sorry, Renjun, but it’s seniors only.” Jaemin interrupts. “The student president wants it to be a special memory for the seniors. Also, we have a tight budget that barely covers the school’s third year population. So, a second year student can't attend.”

Renjun pouts, visibly dismayed. In contrast, Donghyuck’s face is shining with glee. “Guess you’re my date, then, Junnie!”

Jeno consumes the rest of his lunch, thoroughly thinking about Jaemin’s proposition (again). He wonders if he can just ask you to go with him to the event as a friend. Would that be weird? He certainly thinks nothing could be as weird as his feelings for his best friend.

The boy sighs, swamped by the confusing reality he’s living in. Whatever he’s doing cannot go on any longer. He needs to stop avoiding you and confront the yearnings of his heart. But there’s no way Jeno could just suddenly go back to acting ‘normal’ around you—even if he decides to bury his feelings to save the friendship, he’s still going to have lingering feelings and, with no doubt, you would ask him to tell you the truth behind his sudden aloofness.

Jeno is going to confess to you.

The bulgogi thinks he should.

It’s dangerous but he’s willing to take the risk, even if it means that the friendship may never be repaired and he may never be close to you again. But that’s okay, because he’d much rather stay truthful with you during the entire friendship instead of continuing a lie that will eventually bite him in the ass.

Jeno decides to set a deadline for himself: on the night of the winter event, he will confess to you.

He steels his grip around the utensils.

Nine days. Lee Jeno is going to confess to you on the ninth day of those nine days. The eight days prior to the ninth, he’s going to prepare himself for every possible outcome that could occur on Friday evening. He steals an egg roll from Renjun’s tray, to which the older one sputters in shock. Nine days. In nine days, Jeno’s friendship with you is going to accelerate into something more or crumble into pieces.

Nine days.

He’s got this.

Jeno does not have this.

Since when did eight days become equivalent to eight seconds? (The math is not mathing.) Jeno stares at the mirror, his reflection blankly blinking back. He’s dressed in a black suit and adorns a green tie for that pop of colour. It’s not exactly his style, but Renjun proposed the four of them match for their first and last high school event. Jeno decided to go green, while Renjun chose yellow, Donghyuck went with blue, and Jaemin used a colour generator to pick a shade (resulting in purple). He’ll probably find it tacky when he looks back in the future, but right now, he’s rather satisfied with the scheme.

Jeno’s mother blow dries his hair, brushing through the strands with her nimble fingers. She sets the drier down and runs a comb down his bangs, smiling at her beautiful son. “When did my cute son become this handsome?”

Jeno groans at the comment, bashful and embarrassed. “Mom,” he whines, “don’t say that.”

“What?” she laughs, finding his reaction entertaining. “It’s true. You were the cutest baby, I can’t believe you’re graduating soon.”

Me neither, Jeno mentally agrees.

“There you go!” she exclaims, clasping her hands. She steps back and lets Jeno examine his appearance.

“Beware of SM,” Johnny jokes from the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. He whistles, “You look great.”

Jeno grins. “Thanks, Johnny.” He thanks his mother for styling his hair and walks out of the bathroom, heading to the doorway. His father sticks a thumbs-up in approval from the dinner table. Jeno drags his coat on, plants his feet into his newly-bought dress shoes, and waves to his parents from the entrance. They tell him to have fun to which he replies, “I’ll try!”

(Because, you know, he’s going to confess tonight and that thought alone has him breaking into a cold sweat every five minutes.)

Johnny’s his chauffeur for tonight. His cousin offered to give Jeno and his friends a ride to the school and back, and although he states it’s out of pure love, the younger surmises that Johnny wants to go for a late night drive around Seoul. The two get into his father’s car; Johnny behind the wheel, Jeno in the passenger’s seat.

By car, the ride to the apartment complex where the rest live isn't that far. They arrive there in no time and soon, the car is filled with three teenage boys—Jaemin is a member of the student council therefore having to arrive before six—and one young adult singing along to Big Bang’s Bang Bang Bang the entire ride to school.

“I’ll come by around ten p.m.,” says Johnny, leaning out the window. The boys nod, give their thanks, and run into the building.

“Jaemin!” Renjun shouts, garnering the attention of their friend.

“You guys are early,” the vice president notes, bumping fists with Donghyuck. “Did Johnny drop you guys off?”

Jeno nods. “He’ll be back around ten to pick us up, but let your mother know you’ll be back by eleven. Johnny said he’ll take us out for McDonald’s after.”

“Nice.”

The four of them head down the hallway toward the gymnasium, where the winter event is set to take place. The large room is decorated in golds, whites, and blues, with streamers and balloons hanging from the walls. A long table of snacks and drinks line the wall adjacent to the entrance and a DJ booth is situated in the centre of the stage. Many students have already arrived, even more filtering in as the clock ticks closer to seven. And when the little hand strikes seven, Jeno sees you walk in.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, awestruck.

You look stunning.

You’re walking with Chaewon and Kim Sunwoo, chatting excitedly over God knows what. He’s too focused on your presence to realise Donghyuck’s snapped a few photos of his dropped jaw and wide eyes.

Have you always been this pretty?

“Jeno, you’re staring.” Renjun teases, poking his cheek. Jeno comes back to his senses, ears furiously blushing. He rips his gaze away and clears his throat. He made a mistake. The boys are never going to let him live this down.

“Let’s check out the food!” chirps Donghyuck as the DJ starts blasting music. Renjun happily follows and Jaemin heaves Jeno along.

Jeno is going to confess to you.

Even if the school is burning to the ground or a sinkhole opens below, Lee Jeno will confess his feelings to you by the end of the event.

But first, he’s going to make the most of tonight with his best friends.

Nine p.m., and Jeno has not crossed paths with you once. There’s a lot more students in his year than he’d thought.

“Jaemin!” he hollers into the other’s ear. “I’m gonna go out for a breather!”

Jaemin is too busy dancing the macarena with Donghyuck.

Jeno squeezes himself past the throng of seniors, repeatedly muttering “excuse me” and “sorry” as he seeks to escape the loud crowd. When he manages to stumble through the exit, he runs into you standing in the hallway with a cookie in your mouth.

“Eh-noh!” you beam, chewing on the dessert.

Butterflies erupt in his stomach. “Y/N,” he utters. “What are you doing out here?”

You finish your cookie. “Got too stuffy in there,” you say while dusting the crumbs off your fingers. “I’m guessing it’s the same for you?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, shuffling closer to you. Under the dim hallway lights, your eyes shine brighter than the stars. “Uh, wanna go for a walk with me?”

You smile. “I’d love to.”

You’re patient, Jeno thinks as the two of you walk to the staircase. He’s been avoiding you for nearly two weeks and yet, you haven’t asked any questions. You don’t pressure him into spilling the beans or confront him about the blatant lies. You understand him, you’re considerate of him, you’ll never make him uncomfortable. Jeno likes that about you. He likes how you and he have opposing qualities that fit like puzzle pieces. He likes how you and he can never run out of topics to converse about. He likes how you and he have a bond that is difficult to severe.

Most of all, Jeno likes the way you smile at him.

Oh, he’s so head over heels in love.

You enter your homeroom, Jeno following suit. Your body moves to the window seat at the very back, glancing outside at the snowing scenery.

“It’s so pretty,” you say, referring to the white night. “I think winter is my favourite season now.”

Jeno hums, leaning against the desk. “I still like springtime more. The cold is too difficult.”

You roll your eyes at his response but he catches your small grin. “Of course, flower boy. I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

Your gaze stays fixated on the falling snow. Jeno finds it hard to look away from you. He drinks in your appearance—from the way your hair flows, to the line of your nose, to the curve of your shoulders. You’re so perfect, carefully crafted by Aphrodite herself. Everything about you is beautiful, more beautiful than anything in the world. If he could, Jeno would build a museum just to display your beauty.

You finally glimpse at him, tilting your head at his stare. He finds himself getting lost in your eyes. “Jeno? You okay?”

It’s time.

Jeno is going to confess to you.

“Y/N, I like you.”

Jeno just confessed to you.

Your eyes widen and lips part in shock. You furrow your eyebrows at first and then loosen them when you realise he’s telling the truth. Even though the only illumination being provided is the moonlight, Jeno doesn’t miss the way roses bloom on your cheeks. You gulp. “You like me?”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

“I—” You lick your lips, playing with the fabric of your dress. “This feels like a dream.”

His heart jumps. “Y/N?”

You refuse to look him in the eyes, opting to stare out the window again—but this time, with a timid expression. “I…I like you too, Lee Jeno.”

Jeno feels like his heart is about to implode. You like him back. You like him back.

“Are you serious?” he breathes, stepping closer to you. You fervently nod, still maintaining eye contact with the snowfall. Jeno laughs in relief. You let out a yelp as he envelops you in a soft hug. “I like you so, so much, Y/N.”

You return his embrace, hands flat against his broad back. “Did you avoid me because you liked me?”

His breath hitches at your correct assumption. “Y—Yeah. Jaemin suggested I distance myself to figure out my feelings before I come clean.”

“I was really upset, you know.” You raise your head and pout.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, stroking your head. “How can I make up for it?”

Your gaze trails from his eyes to his nose to his lips then back to his eyes. You surprise him with your boldness. “If you give me a kiss, I’ll forgive you.”

Jeno doesn’t need to be asked twice. He gently bumps his lips against yours, cupping your face with both of his hands. Your arms wrap them around his waist, drawing him in closer. You taste sweeter than candy.

Jeno wants to be drunk on this euphoric feeling forever.

He’s about to deepen the kiss when you break away, face redder than the setting sun. “Too fast. That was my first kiss.”

“Same.”

You raise a brow in suspicion. “You were a little too good for this to be your first kiss, Jen.”

Jeno laughs at your statement, poking your forehead with his pointer finger. “I researched a bit.” (Undisclosed: “I watched the K-Dramas my mom put on TV.”)

A serene atmosphere settles in the classroom as Jeno and you simply drown in each other’s presence, drinking in the beauty of tonight’s happening. Your hands play with his loose tie and his fingers graze the small sequins sewed to your dress. “Y/N,” he whispers, “will you be my girlfriend?”

You tug at his tie, bringing him closer. “I’d be stupid to say no.” And you kiss him for the second time.

Love? It’s always been the feeling that reminded Jeno of his best friend, but now, it’ll only remind him of his girlfriend.

bonus: the aftermath.

Two days since the friends-to-lovers scenario, and Jeno is walking you home for the first time in nearly three weeks. Not much has changed—the same subway, the same bus, the same pathway. But then again, everything has changed.

For instance, instead of walking side-by-side with a small distance in-between, Jeno’s left hand is intertwined with your right hand, finding warmth in his jacket pocket.

Monday’s have never been better.

“It feels strange to walk with you as a couple now,” you giggle, snuggling into your scarf. “To be frank, I never thought this day would come.”

Jeno frowns. “Why is that?”

You blow out a puff of air. “Because you’re popular with all of the girls at school. You know, Jeon Heejin fancied you for quite a while! I was scared you’d like her.”

He snorts. “I don’t think you have the right to say that when you dated Choi Soobin from Class 3-4.”

“In my defence, I dated him to get over you! Though, I do feel sorry but I don’t think he liked me that much anyway. He’s dating Hwang Yeji now.”

Jeno stops walking, to which you automatically halt, and he leans over to steal a kiss. “I’m glad you never got over me, Y/N. I’m only ever going to walk with you for the rest of my life.”

Lee Jeno needs to stop making your cheeks hurt.

taglist | @matchahyuck @lovehowdream @niinjo @jeonnyread @pckeia @dandelionxgal @huangstape @lemarkjun @mosviqu @neosdaisy @haven-cove

#neowritingsnet #kpop #nct #nct u #nct dream #lee jeno #jeno #jeno x reader #series #au #ff #fanfic #imagine #oneshot #scenario #fluff #romance #slice of life

216 notes · View notes

thebibliosphere · 2 years

Note

Hey Joy! I hope you're doing alright and your spoons have started to recover from your last migraine

if you have extra spoons or just want to open it up to your community, I have questions about erotica and amazon.

Is there any content that amazon nukes that isn't implicitly part of it's TOS or written rules? For examples I guess:

Knots in erotica (were-anything, dragons, etc.) I heard from a friend that they don't allow this so they're trying to work around this by calling it everything but a knot.

How 'steamy' is too steamy? I know for non hetero they gloss over a lot of them but I guess what keywords did you have to avoid to not be shadow banned on their algorithm

I read up a little on what kinds of cover pictures were acceptable and that's just, weird but I guess color blocks and silhouettes are all in right now (It's erotica, why not have somebody in a questionable pose?!?)

And I guess this final question is a little outside what your book series did, but non humanoid love interests (more akin to Shape of Water and other love interests that look less like humans). What does Amazon expect the writers to avoid (aside from writing them in general) and what goods ways are there to put tags, the blurb, etc?!

Thank you Joy, and community, you rock!

So, for the most part, provided you stick to the TOS with Amazon, you're fine. However, the Amazon censors are human and have their own biases you have to contend with. Amazon also recently purged their dark romance category, which was an actual thing, presumably in an attempt to look squeaky clean despite romance and erotica being the backbone upon which KDP is built. Yay, sanitized capitalism...

I'm not aware of 'knotting' being banned, though it probably depends on whether you're writing straight or queer erotica and which human you get on the other end of the screen when it comes to final approval. There's a well-known problem with a homophobic censor on the weekends (Fuck you, Carlos, 🖕) who seemingly tends to knock back LGBTQ+ content on a whim. Hilariously, he knocked back the Fluff version of Hunger Pangs the first time I submitted it for approval. I didn't make any changes to the file and reuploaded it on Monday. Problem solved. (This also happened to Chuck Tingle about a year ago, though I can't seem to find the thread atm.)

When it comes to het-content, you can start the book with dubcon, and likely, nothing will happen. Queer content, you will want to give yourself a longer build-up to avoid getting knocked back. I've heard that censors stop reading after 20% but don't quote me on that. Putting certain content after that mark may be a way to avoid getting certain things picked up. When it comes to the algorithm, don't tag it like fic. Things like Shifter Romance, Monster Romance, and Gay Romance are acceptable (or whatever category you are in), but DO NOT tag it the way you would fic. A list like gay, shifter, knotting, BDSM, kink, tentacles--whatever-- is not how the Amazon algorithm works. Avoid putting trigger/content warnings anywhere inside the book as well. If you want a comprehensive list of content tags for your readers, you'll need to do what I did and have a specific page on your website listed at the front of your book, but you'll also want to keep that page inactive on your website until the book gets approved. These are the hoops we jump through to let our readers make informed choices... Also, don't tag it as queer anywhere. You can't even use 'queer' in reviews on Amazon anymore. 🙃

The reason you're currently seeing the trend of vector art and whatnot is twofold: one, it's cheaper than hiring models or paying for certain licensed content. Secondly, it's to avoid being flagged as erotic because we live in the bad place where everything must be sanitized for advertisers. You'll still see the odd headless hot-abbed torso, but it's safer to have non-explicit content on the cover. If you want a good example of how to code something as erotic without using explicit images, take a look at Katee Robert's covers. They tend to have a symbolic image framed in the middle surrounded by darkness with very vibrant colors--usually an electric purple, red or green.

In terms of content, in theory, as long as you are sticking to the TOS, you're fine. As for tagging, I sort of already answered this with how to tag via website links, but as for how to write blurbs, you're going to want to phrase it as something hintingly vague. For example: After an accident at work, Merissa finds herself plunged into an alternate fantasy dimension ruled over by the merfolk of Atlan'titsia. Captured, she is brought before the mysterious Prince SexyMonster, who claims her for himself. Bound and displayed as an oddity in his court, she is torn between her desire to return home and to learn more about this strange new place where desire rules supreme, and the rules are not at all what she expects... Or something to that effect. Don't ask me. I'm rubbish at blurbs, lmao.

Anyway, it's been a minute since I contended with Amazon's uploads, and some of this may have changed. If it has, I'd be curious to know what has changed. I hope some of that helps, though.

Also, before anyone starts ragging on Amazon for any of this, the TOS are pretty universal across the board. It's just more evident with Amazon because it's often the only place indies can afford to publish.

#long post #amazon publishing

450 notes · View notes

mueritos · 8 months

Note

Hey! Asking about your experience with being punk/punk adjacent and also in academia. How do you handle the two? Punk action and activism is grassroots, which I try to be involved in, but I feel like I’m just speaking big words and writing into an echo-chamber about gender. Like the only good I do is explaining to a group of cis people terminology. What are your experiences on this, if you have any?

Hmm. Yea this was difficult for me to balance too. I'll insert a readmore cuz this got kinda long.

I enjoy academia and research and being able to have more advanced conversations with people, but I was also sick of being in classes or circles of people who I knew would speak "woke" for the sheer fact of looking like good people, but on the down low were incredibly racist, classist, queerphobic, and just down right nasty carceral people. It was difficult trying to sift through who was safe to open up to and who wasn't, because many people were actually liberals in disguise (even if they called themselves leftists or leftist aligned). I also was never shy about being an anarchist/punk, I was the only person who wore my spiked jackets and boots to class, my outfits were loud, but I also began seeing some other queer people I knew wear their own jackets because they were encouraged by me (so that was nice).

I was doing activism on campus while in undergrad alongside the usual academic theory/research stuff, and it turns out that people actually will hate your guts the moment you start pointing out problems. The usual "YOU become the problem the second you point out THE problems", so I faced a lot of social backlash, even from other marginalized people who I had confided in about problems. My advice is that unless you're willing to become one of the most hated people on campus, don't do your activism on campus. It's a surefire way of making enemies, even enemies in people you have never met in your life. There are plenty of local orgs, food banks, and churches with programming that you could be way more productive in than trying to combat institutionalized oppression like that of an academic institution. You can try, believe me because I did, and while I learned a lot about organizing, I also learned when to give up and focus on my community instead of changing systems.

You pointed out that you're getting sick of explaining to cis people. This is definitely something you can stop doing, if you'd like. I stopped giving up my labor to educate other people (within reason) because I was one of the few trans people on campus. But I also have this value that I am not about to let some person walk around with the wrong idea about marginalized communities, so I always speak up when people say incorrect things (this has also caused some yt people to avoid me lol). Of course, you do this with compassion and with the goal of making sure their future interactions with marginalized people go better, but after a certain point, you need to be able to hold your energy for where you want to put it. Put more pressure on your institution or adjacent orgs to have things like safezone training (or bring in queer orgs for trainings/lectures). You can also just tell people some websites to check out instead of answering their questions, because surprise to them, their questions can in fact be solved by a simple search, they just are far too lazy to do that.

I dunno tho. I still struggle with growing so much in terms of punk/anarchist theory and ideas, but i have a serious lacking in actual community organizing. I'm introverted, don't like big noisy crowds, and I am quite socially anxious. Being punk is like my armor in a world that doesn't like me, because I find people fuck with me less when Im in spikes and boots. I find theory and academia so fulfilling for my virgo brain, but I also don't shame myself for not being active in local community. I know there will be a time I will be, but I also know that everyone is helping in the movement in the ways they can. It doesn't matter if that is at the food bank, in protest, on the computer, or by reading theory. All of it is equally important, and some of us aren't going to be good at everything.

I found myself feeling far more productive and alive when I was working with communities I knew would keep me safe. Started surrounding myself with more BIPOC queer people who were also working against carceral thinking, and I found my life to be way more enjoyable. connecting authentically with people who you feel safe with is just as important as organizing or protesting. You can organize or protest, but if you don't have a community to turn to, you'll burn out and won't be able to sustainably stay in the movement. Focus on energies, peoples, and love, connect authentically and have difficult conversations about love and politics and theory. You can be an academic, but still maintain the punk values you love in your daily life. Humans are made of contradicting values and experiences, we shouldn't shame each other for that and instead hold the multiple and contradicting truths in us all.

I can go on and on, but ill leave it at that. feel free to ask anything else in specific tho.

#muertoresponds #punk #ig another tip is connect with professors #many of my proffs were literally communists haha and i was their token anarchist #but many of them will have experience and even places for u to go to #ive been invited to many local organizings or dinners with groups by professors #never was able to go becuz of time and cuz i couldnt drive #but these are people with lived experience and theory on their belt

50 notes · View notes

anonymousfoz · 5 months

Text

HS Journalism: District Blocking Sites (News)

Note: Some things have to be censored to post it here. If you see a lot of dashes, that is why

Morality. Safety. Student engagement in classes. Some legitimate reasons for blocking websites at schools do exist. However, monetary gain for the school district is behind some censorship that affects both students and teachers–despite educational use of the internet.

School districts and public libraries across the nation have been blocking sites for 22 years. According to the American Association of School Librarians, 98% of the nation’s school districts and public libraries filter the online content that is available to minors. But why? And is blocking sites occurring in truly beneficial ways?

Background

To create a safe environment for students while keeping them focused and off inappropriate sites, Congress passed the Children’s Internet Protection Act on Dec. 15, 2000, and it went into effect on April 20, 2001. CIPA requires that public libraries and certain school districts that have students from kindergarten to twelfth grade use internet filters and other measures to protect students from harmful and obscene content in order to obtain certain federal funding.

The Supreme Court has stated that libraries can unblock the filters for adults who request them. The decision was seen as a major defeat for all libraries in the U.S. and for those who had to use the library internet due to no access at home. The ruling also led to concerns about how CIPA would work in schools and the censorship in that setting.

The Debate

The CIPA law sparked debate over censorship in schools, and with the recent rise of book banning in schools, people have returned to this debate. Two sides emerged with various viewpoints on CIPA and blocking sites. One side agrees to the blocking of sites and wants to enforce more restrictions, and another side opposes district blocking sites and has its various solutions to the conflict. Both sides agree that certain sites with sexual content should be blocked, but that is where the agreement stops.

From opposing broad filters and blocking social media sites to wanting realistic barriers that allow children to form their own ideas, even those who oppose blocking sites don’t agree on solutions to what might be considered “inappropriate” content. The opposing side wants to make educational institutions responsible for online content available to students with more responsibility for decisions being left up to the older students.

“Students already know how to get around the firewall by using their phones as hotspots or going to gaming websites that our filter doesn’t catch,” one teacher said.

Students also bypass the firewall by using virtual private networks or VPNs. The gaming sites that filters don’t catch are typically built using Google Sites, Weebly, or even LinkedIn. Games can be found on Scratch that students can access during class. While the district tries to solve these issues, some in this debate demand parents block sites on their children’s personal devices.

This debate is mainly between parents wanting to protect children versus experiences that occur in the classroom with students and teachers dealing with the frustrating situations caused by their school district’s filters.

In the Classroom

While all districts follow CIPA, each district has its policies which can cause interruption in the classroom. A teacher may have a legitimate assignment ruined by a site being blocked.

The survey and poll sent out to all teachers at Nation Ford showed that of 24 teachers, 17 said they had a legitimate site blocked—either their own sites or another site they were using for educational purposes related to course content. Seven teachers had YouTube blocked for class use or assignments. Three teachers had their websites blocked, which held important information for students and parents.

“My own educational website, which I created for my students that I use with instruction was blocked for a year before I finally got access to it at school again,” a teacher said. “I couldn’t send students to the website for enrichment or anything.”

Of course, some blocked websites are needed. One teacher stated that Pinterest was blocked from students who were using it to look at marketing research. Another talked about Adobe Creative Cloud’s AI features being blocked from students, which would have enhanced creativity in the classroom. Most teachers stated they were frustrated with their experience, some mentioning that due to a helpful site with resources being blocked, they were required to work at home.

Despite these experiences, most teachers agreed that some websites needed to be blocked.

“I like the intention, but it causes some unnecessary issues for students and teachers,” one teacher said.

Another teacher said, “I think our system is behind the times. Teachers should be able to approve certain websites for class use on an individual basis.”

The reasoning behind --SD’s blocking of sites is not well understood.

“In some cases, that [blocking sites] is necessary for students’ health and safety,” another teacher said. “I’d be interested to know how the district is deciding these matters, however, because there are times legitimate and educational sites are blocked, which is frustrating.”

The District Policy

The district policy is mentioned in the IJNDB “Use of Technology Resources by Students,” and according to the document, the district is to provide students with access to electronic and technological resources to help them in school. The district has the right to monitor students’ online activities and restrict access to certain websites they deem inappropriate for academic purposes. The --SD system is not perfect, but it is truly impossible to monitor every student and block all the correct sites. The document also states that anyone using the district network, a district-owned device, or holding a district account should not expect privacy given for anything downloaded, transmitted, or received as the district has access to view that information and search account history. The district also notes that they have the right to change their policy at any given time.

--SD’s Chief Communications Officer, ---- Burke, understands the main issue in this debate.

“In general, if a site is blocked and has educational value to a class, the teacher can work with their administration and the IT Department at the District Office to request the site be unblocked,” Burke said. “The district administration will make the determination depending on the site’s content and compliance with policy IJNDB.”

The district has the final say on whether a site will be unblocked based on the content and what they see as educational value to the class. In classes such as Digital Art & Design or Marketing, the district administration could fail to understand the educational value a site could provide. A year is a long time to wait, teachers say.

Possible Solution

Teachers say they can already see students’ screens with such sites as Netop Vision. While this gives the teacher a lot of control over electronic use, it could ensure students stay on task. Teachers say they know what their class needs. This way, the district can continue broad filtering sites while giving teachers control in the classroom.

#high school newspaper #journalism #writing #my writing #child internet protection act #blocking sites #cipa #School districts blocking websites

22 notes · View notes