#and he fully posted this on facebook

[likeabxrdinflight]

I miss being like sixteen and emotionally unintelligent to the point it was acceptable to be jealous of your crush's partner in extremely petty and unimportant ways, or to be unreasonably mad at said crush for not liking you back. because in your thirties that is neither cute nor socially acceptable.

[cerealmonster15]

i dont think i ever felt more annoyed at commercials than when those mean girls walmart ads were playing a few months ago or whenever that was

[britneyshakespeare]

around 6 o'clock (east coast u.s. standard time) some guy from fucking australia, with no mutual friends obviously, friend- and message-requested me on facebook saying he hoped i didn't mind the add, but "you came up in my recommended and are the cutest ginger i've ever seen." and it like literally gave me chills because holy hellllll, how the FUCK did this guy find my profile? i have no public posts; i hardly ever comment on public posts; i don't post in large, active groups; etc etc etc etc so it creeped the FUCK out of me. sometimes fb puts ppl w no mutual friends in my "people you may know" but, creepily enough, they often are people i... know, if not have some sort of mutual connection with? like they might be old classmates or friends of friends creating new profiles (so no mutual friends yet), etc. and this is true for ppl who also don't have info on their profile saying they live in/near my hometown, went to my school at some point, etc. like THAT is very creepy how meta somehow knows that. but this guy from australia i am absolutely sure i have no connection to whatsoever. WHY WOULD I???? i have no connection to australia at all other than a couple of mutuals i have on here.

so anyway i took a screenshot of the message and showed it to my friends cuz i was freaking out about it and needed to get that off my chest and one friend was like "why dont you block him" (me reading that 4 hours later) and im like you know what i didnt think it was necessary but not a bad idea. and i go to check the message request and the message was unsent, and he also deleted the friend request. lmaooooo. maybe his girlfriend found his phone

[cheriecore]

[peregrine-rnendicant]

if i had a nickel for every time i found out someone i went to hs with is now a relatively famous youtuber, i would have 2 nickels. which isnt a lot but its weird that it happened twice

[elegantartisanperson]

Hi hello friend!

As it is almost the Spooky Season (yes i know its September), do you have any halloween or all hallow's eve traditions from your area? How do you celebrate?

hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!! hellooooo!!!!!!! hiiii!! I mean yeah, it is only ALMOST the Spooky Season, but I've already started looking for halloween decorations I could get myself lol. I love halloween and the Spooky Season so much!!

I come from a very religious and conservative area and to add to that Halloween is not popular in Poland in my expierence. The only time I’ve heard about trick or treating was like 2 years ago when my aunt was complaining about trick or treaters.

There’s a christian holiday called „all saints day” (Wszystkich Świętych” in polish) on the first of november and I’m pretty sure it’s the more popular holiday here. Basically it’s about visiting your dead relatives graves and lighting the candles on them. Never really celebrated halloween, despite liking it. I'd like to watch friday the 13th this week, since I've never watched it was friday the 13th yesterday. I've also thought about trying to watch at least one horror movie every week this Spooky Season and do a marathon on the weekend closest to halloween. I love scary movies.

If you want to hear a "silly" story regarding halloween, last year during RE lesson the priest told us he saw on FACEBOOK how halloween actually means "Hell's win" and how it's terrible, satanist and anti christian etc.

I’ve tried explaining that it means hallow’s eve and how it’s just a fun thing for people to do, especially for children. But he was not having it, interrupted me mid sentence, started talking louder and louder as I was finishing my sentence (in a monotone voice, I was not being loud in the slightest lol) and he went on about how it's satanist, Eviiiiil and sinister and anti - christian for children to dress up as fictional characters and eat candy until a few people in the back googled it and told him I was right on the meaning and he slowly stopped. Yeah dude, if you talk just slightly louder whatever u r saying might just about become true, that’s how truth’s determined, you were this close🤏. You should try interrupting people and ignoring what they say more often🙄

[probablyasocialecologist]

Fifteen government departments have been monitoring the social media activity of potential critics and compiling “secret files” in order to block them from speaking at public events, the Observer can reveal. Under the guidelines issued in each department, including the departments of health, culture, media and sport, and environment, food and rural affairs, officials are advised to check experts’ Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and LinkedIn accounts. They are also told to conduct Google searches on those individuals, using specific terms such as “criticism of government or prime minister”. The guidelines are designed to prevent anyone who has criticised the government in the previous three to five years from speaking at government-organised conferences and other events.

[...]

These hidden checks are unlawful, running contrary to data protection laws and potentially breaching equality and human rights legislation. Dan Kaszeta, a chemical weapons expert, was disinvited in April from giving a keynote speech at a UK defence conference after officials found social media posts criticising Tory ministers and government immigration policy. He told the Observer this weekend that he knows of 12 others who have uncovered evidence of similar government blacklisting, most of whom are frightened of speaking out. But he said far more will be unaware they ever failed secret vetting. He said: “The full extent of this is shocking and probably not fully known. I was lucky enough to be given clearcut, obvious evidence. It’s truly awful.”

[ramennoodlezzzao3]

outsiders modern AU head cannons

The gang would absolutely FORBID Ponyboy or Johnny to take an Uber or lift, they said they had to call one of them if they didn’t have a way home. It’s “Dangerous” to get into an Uber because it’s a stranger (I have a finished, unpublished one-shot about Ponyboy in this situation if yall want me to post it 🤭)

Darry refuses to get messenger or Facebook. He uses Life360 and the built in phone app to message Sodapop and Pony. He eventually got messenger so he could be apart of the group chat.

Ponyboy has several secret social media accounts. He posts on them and has quite the following, but has practically blocked every member of the gang so they can’t watch him.

Darry watches the news all the time unless someone changes it

Dally can’t count how many times he’s broken his phone

Two-Bit orders DoorDash just so he can get beers delivered. He also has to buy any soda of pony’s he drank

(Not really a modern HC but it’s a HC) Ponyboy actually HATES Pepsi, but he drinks it because people often buy it for him without asking what he wants. His favorite soda is actually Dr. Pepper, specifically the cherry flavored

Ponyboy used vapes instead of cigarettes to try and quit smoking. Steve was the one who found out and literally destroyed all of his vapes so that pone didn’t get sick

Sodapop uses instagram a LOT. He doesn’t have a huge following, less than pony has on TikTok, maybe around 5K followers? But he notices the pictures he posts with pony get LOTS of likes and views and he always gets so confused as to why

Johnny knows virtually every single TikTok dance known to man

Johnny and Ponyboy watch horror movies together (Johnny knows way to much about murder and scares everyone)

Ponyboy has a soft boy style while everyone else is literally leather jackets and jeans. He literally is the color in the gang

Two-Bit talks in TikTok language and that’s it. He will say stuff like “Chat” and “Cap” and Ponyboy is the only one who fully understands what he is even saying

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

This makes me incredibly angry.

[ID: Screenshots of a Facebook post from user Advocatus Peregrini, which reads:

I was conversing with a fully-grown adult a few days ago, born and educated in the USA, who let this little gem drop:

"Well, it's like Shakespeare said, "Love conquers all!""

I pointed out that Shakespeare never said that, Virgil did, (Eclogues X) and Chaucer after him (Canterbury Tales.)

She said, "Oh I'm sure Shakespeare said that. In Romeo and Juliet!"

I sighed. I've been in that play several times, in different roles, and even directed it. That text does not occur in it.

But the real grind-my-teeth moment here was that if Romeo and Juliet can be said to have a message, it is most certainly not "Love conquers all," seeing as the lovers die by their own hands with a trail of their friends and relations' corpses in their wake.

Neither this fact, nor the fact that I knew the play, nor my explanation that Virgil and Chaucer used the phrase long before Shakespeare's birth dented her determination that "Love conquers all" came from Shakespeare.

"You don't know ALL the versions!" she protested.

All the versions?

Alternative Bard?

With every instinct screaming at me to let the matter drop, warning me that some horror that will not soon be absent from my nightmares waited around the next corner of this conversation. I pressed on.

It was a decision I was soon to regret.

I asked when she had first read "Romeo and Juliet." She said she had only read it once, when she was in Junior High. In the version she was taught, Romeo and Juliet survive, are reconciled with their parents, and are married in the church with their friends Mercutio and Tybalt arm in arm in the wedding party.

"Help me into some house, Benvolio, or I shall faint."

It turned out that her school had their own "version" of Romeo and Juliet, with an "uplifting" ending. This was printed and distributed by a religious education publisher. And it was the only version of the story that she had ever read. Of course she had HEARD other people say that the story was a tragedy, but she just assumed they were wrong.

And she did not see why MY version of Shakespeare should be considered better than HER Shakespeare, which, after all, had a much more wholesome ending.

I explained, in vain, that "my" version is definitive because Shakespeare actually wrote it (quiet, you Oxfordians. Don't make me stop this car) and the message of the play - that when adult stubbornness meets youthful impulsiveness tragedy ensues - is lost in the ersatz, happy-clappy ending.

She said the ending that had been Frankensteined onto Shakespeare's play by the "Christian Education" publisher was better than the original ending, "if the ending is as sad as you say it is."

At this point, I concluded that this was a person who deserved to go through the rest of her life "...safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive!" I bid her adieu.

After the conversation, I wondered, darkly, if that was to be the fate of Shakespeare, and all other literature if the happy-clappy people get their way - as harmless and "uplifiting" as a cheerleader's chant.

I wondered what these bowdlerizers would do with "Hamlet?" or worse, "Titus Andronicus" or "MacB-" Nothing wholesome, I'm sure. Oh, that's right, what they can't appropriate, they ban. Or burn.

In trying to protect children, we leave them undefended from "...the slings and arrows" that life will no doubt throw their way. Shakespeare raises the issues of tragedy - the fatal flaw, the last turning, the role of fate, as well or better than any author before or since. He is a gentle tutor, much to be preferred over that stern and dangerous teacher, Experientia Inopinatum.

But, as ever, it really isn't about the children. It's about the adults, and their desire to avoid answering difficult questions from agile young minds, who know no fear and swarm like eager flies around questions that have been boggling our best minds for millenia. To answer the questions that literature raises, you have to have thought deeply about them yourself. And that is something that few dare to do.]  end id

[sea-salted-wolverine]

I went to Hawaii. I went diving. It's the end of surf season and not quite dive season but this was a last minute family trip so its not as if I planned this. My standards for "decent dive conditions" are "water deep enough to get my head under that won't immediately kill me". So I was diving.

I found a phone at the bottom of the ocean, just below a surf break. Its pink. Its a iPhone. It's in a case. The case flooded, but Apple is a bitch who won't let anyone fix their precious hardware so the entire motherboard is sealed in resin. It's fully waterproof.

The phone takes a charge. My husband and I fly home, with the phone. The phone powers on. Estimated time at the bottom based on condition of the case : at least a month or 2.

My apple user husbandpulls emergency contact info off the phone. Number is disconnected. Commence the Facebook stalk. We find the guy. He hasn't posted in years. Good for him but frustrating. We find his sister from his page, who hasn't posted since last year. But on her page, she has a link to the health clinic she runs. The clinic has a phone number.

We leave one of the weirder voice-mails that clinic has ever received and prepare to wait 2 to 10 business days for a reply. We get a call back within the hour. She's on the wrong island but shes fairly certain we've found the right guy. She passes on our info to her brother and an hour or so later we get a call from him.

It's his wife's phone. She dropped it off a stand up paddle board while taking pictures of nephew learning to surf. There was also a loyalty card punchcard thing to an ice cream shop in the case, which we did find, but it was a wet paper pulp so it got tossed with the flooded case. Evidently she was more concerned with getting that back that the phone, which she had already replaced, since she had dropped it a full 5 months ago.

So anyway, we got a shipping address and we're mailing a miraculously not bricked phone from Alaska back to Hawaii. This is a new personal record for recovery diving.

[kedreeva]

Two days ago, I saw a woman I would have sworn was a friend of mine from high school, except the man with her wasn't recognizable. She turned where I could see her fully, and I realized it wasn't her after all. Same hair, wearing glasses, same body shape. We were good friends, once, and it was nice to believe it could be her, for a moment.

This morning, she made a post on facebook about feeling lonely around the holidays, and I reached out to say I think of her sometimes still. I see her in other people, sometimes.

Tonight, she replied that a few days ago, she told her son about me, a friend she had. A girl who loved dragons, she said. He loves dragons, too.

I still love them. They have more feathers than I expected, but I love them still. I was so many things, when I was a teenager, but I think that was the best of them- the girl who loved dragons. She was the artist. She still is an artist. We've both come a long way, but I don't think we got that far apart.

She asked if I wanted to catch up. Hopefully I'll see her soon.

[thelightsandtheroses]

one: florida!!!!

Call It What You Want | Frankie Morales x OFC

Summary: Daisy never expected to move to Florida but recovering from burnout in the sunshine state seems a good enough plan. Years after the death of her estranged half-brother, Tom, she finds herself agreeing to move in with Frankie Morales, Tom’s former army colleague and friend. Falling for her roommate, who is definitely keeping secrets about your brother’s death, may not be the best way to ensure a fresh start, or is it actually what they both needed all along? Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog MDNI, mentions of previous canon death and grief, references to corporate burnout Word Count: 3.7k Notes: Please note I am not from Florida, or even the US, so there’s a degree of creative license here, What I know about firefighting probably comes from 9-1-1, other firefighter shows, or google so please don’t think this is gong to be an accurate depiction of the Florida FD for Frankie. It’s fic, babes, let’s let me be a little self-indulgent. This is a rewrite of my first fic which felt too fast, too angsty and not the story I wanted to tell for a concept I really loved. It’s seen some considerable changes since then while retaining several themes, but I am so excited to share this and particularly this version of Frankie who has been rotting my brain for months and months 🔥 🔥🫠

Series Masterlist | Next. | A03

Palm trees, beaches and viral memes. That’s what I’ve always associated with Florida. It never struck me as a potential place I would make my home. I thought I might vacation there one day perhaps; some time in a distant future when I had a real grown-up life and family and we would go to the theme parks, buy overpriced merchandise and fried food and take cheesy photos before flying or driving home.

It’s funny how things work out though, isn’t it?

I pull into the apartment block with trepidation.

This is the fourteenth apartment I’ve viewed this week. Fourteen. I thought the market back in Chicago was bad but this is a whole new hellscape, or maybe it was easier because I knew more people back then. College roommates turn into post-college roommates and your circle is fully formed. It means you have people when you need to find a new place, there’s a whisper network, friends of friends.

I don’t have that anymore.

I want it though. I miss it.

I think I miss it.

The advert says that this listing is for a single room and the apartment is occupied by a group of young professional women. It’s the best option I’ve come across yet in my browsing of online postings which has taken me through several levels of Dante’s inferno. Facebook is just one above Craigslist in the hierarchy of the internet hellscapes I’ve seen recently.  One guy asked for my shoe size and asked if I routinely wore high heels before I could view the apartment. Safe to say, that one went off the list extremely quickly. It was a shame though - that listing had a double room and balcony, but I think I can see why it’s been listed for over sixty days now.

I haven’t had a roommate since college and this whole process has been a soul-crushing exercise on my already fragile self esteem. I don’t think I can take much more of this.

I take a deep breath. I’ve got this. I will find a room so I can move out of Molly’s and do something, anything with my life. Anything that’s not just existing in this strange purgatory I’ve found myself in. I’m potentially placing too much importance on the apartment here, but it’s a symbol, an omen.

It’s a fresh start. A signal to the universe that I’m here, that I’m doing something.

I feel like everything else I’m hoping and dreaming of can’t even start unless I have an apartment, and I can’t afford my own apartment and start a business so I need to find a roommate.

Maybe this is finally the one.

“It was so bad, Benny,” I say, taking a glug of lukewarm beer. “It was like being in high school over again, but worse. Infinitely worse!”

“Worse?” Benny tilts his head as he asks the question, something that only heightens my association between him and golden retrievers.

“Yes, because I’m not sixteen with a promise it’ll get better when I ‘find my people’ in college. This sucks. What was I thinking? Clearly I wasn’t. Maybe I should have stayed …” I trail off awkwardly.

“You were thinking that Florida is the perfect place to start over, which it is, Daisy,” he replies confidently.

Benny and his brother, Will, have played a considerable part in my move here. They served with my half-brother Tom.

Tom died more than five years ago - I don’t really know much about how it happened, Tom and I weren’t particularly close. There was an age difference, I sometimes felt he didn’t want me as a sister. I was only a reminder of his own parents’ relationship breakdown after all. I wish I could say we had that sibling bond but we didn’t. It’s clear to me his real siblings were the men in his team - he was their brother.

After his death though, Will kept in touch with me. I wondered if he thought he needed to fill a gap from Tom, if there was a sense of responsibility there. Tom never called me though except for birthdays and Christmas. I haven’t told Will that though.

It’s been nice feeling like I have a big brother. The irony isn’t lost on me that I feel this the most once my actual big brother is dead.

Will encouraged me to move down here, as did Molly, Tom’s ex-wife. They said I needed a fresh start and maybe they’re right.

I can’t remember the last time I felt like me. I’m not even sure what that feels like now, who I’m supposed to be and who I am really.

Florida seems a good place for reinvention though, for something new. I’m closer to the beach, to weekends spent with my toes scrunched in the sand as I sip coffee and read books. Days spent with Benny and Will

“Hey Benny,” A voice calls as I hear the front door open.

“We’re in here.“

“You remember Frankie, right?” Benny asks casually. “Tom woulda called him Catfish?”

“Uh, sure.” I don’t but I won’t admit to that. I remember the name vaguely, but that’s all. Tom wasn’t big on the details of his life with me.

“You probably saw him at the wake last,” Benny adds.

Even if it hadn’t been four years ago since I last saw him, all I can remember of Tom’s funeral is a procession of strangers and the continual vibration of my work phone as I stood in a strange graveyard. That whole day was a stark reminder of the distance between us, that my own blood was a ghost to me even when he was alive. It bought me Molly, Tess and Will though.

Frankie walks in. He’s a little older than Benny but younger than Tom was. He’s all dark eyes and curls peeking out through a battered baseball cap; softly tanned skin and that smile … that smile is something. If he could bottle that up and sell it, I’m pretty sure he’d find a captive market.

“Frankie, you remember Daisy, right? She’s moved here,” Benny says. “She’s starting a coffee van.”

“Uh - yeah.” Frankie has no clue who I am, but his efforts to conceal that are admirable. “Now you mention it, Will might have said something about that. You’re uh, staying with Molly for now, right? You were in Boston before?” I nod, wondering what Will has exactly said to Frankie about my move. “A coffee van?”

“Eventually,” I add nervously, “It’s a whole process. So, I’m actually just temping for now while I get things sorted.” I have no idea why I’ve told him that, why I still want to introduce myself based on my career, on my outward accomplishments. I’m almost surprised I haven't tried to find an old business card in my pocket or referred him to my LinkedIn profile where it neatly lists all my employable skills and experience.

 Daisy is highly skilled in project management, board engagement, data analysis  and most of all completely falling apart all of the time, but she makes a mean slide deck. Plus, guess what, she’s open to work!

“Oh, right, cool.”

“Frankie works for the fire department. He’s a firefighter pilot now,” Benny says. “Out here making me look bad.”

“Aw, I keep telling you don’t need my job to do that, Benny.”

Benny laughs heartily and throws a cushion at Frankie who catches it with ease and a raised eyebrow.

“Well, that’s definitely cooler than paperwork and admin.”

“Not really,” Frankie says, “I mean, it’s not really cool if you know what I mean.”

“Oh,” you say with a groan, “that might be the most dad joke I’ve heard.”

“It’s a classic though,” he replies lightly. “You got a soda, Benny?”

“Fridge. Wait, I just had a brilliant idea,” Benny suddenly interjects with a grin. “I mean, I’m a genius.”

“Oh yeah?” Frankie asks, one eyebrow quirking up. “About soda?”

“No, no, no. You need a roommate, right?”

“Yes?” Frankie replies slowly with the seasoned reluctance of someone who knows exactly what Benny’s brilliant ideas usually result in.

“Daze needs a room, you need a solid roommate, voila!” Benny makes a complicated hand gesture and smiles widely.

It seems too simple, too obvious but despite the terrible apartment earlier, my heart races as I wonder what if Benny’s onto something.

“Benny, I’m sure Daisy would -”

“How soon is it available?” I ask.

“Uh, immediately. My last roommate moved in with his boyfriend, which is great for him, but I’ve been struggling to find anyone suitable for it since then.”

“Suitable?” Immediately flashbacks of the weird Craigslist ads come back to me, please don’t say Frankie is going to say something odd. “What do you mean, suitable?” I really hope Frankie isn’t actually the weird shoe size guy from Craigslist.

“I have a kid who stays with me regularly. I need someone I can trust, someone safe to be around him, and someone who’s not going to be a …”

“Frankie wanted to mandate a background check,” Benny interrupts, before raising his hands at Frankie’s expression. “I said I got it! Perhaps, if you interrogated people less though ….”

“I’m not gonna apologise for prioritising my kid.”

“So, do I need a background check to apply then?”

“Nah,” Benny says, “you’re Tom’s sister, right Frankie?”

There’s a comforting weight to his words. The conviction in his voice, the simple answer that takes it for granted that maybe I’m not one of them, but I’m adjacent at least. It feels unfamiliar. I’ve never been Tom’s sister, not to Tom at least.

I feel as though I’m wearing someone else’s skin, another identity, and it’s alien but comforting. It’s an identity I never knew I could wear. One I never even knew was an option.

“You’re actually considering this then?” Frankie asks, eyebrows raised.

“Well, yeah. Benny’s heard all about my nightmare of an apartment hunt so far… unless, I mean. If you don’t want to then that’s fine.”

“Alright Tom’s sister,” Frankie begins with a soft smile.

“Daisy.”

“Daisy. “I’ll send you the info. let me know whether you’re still interested then. No pressure.” His voice is honey smooth, low and there’s something else.

His eyes.

They’re kind. Soulful even.

“I’m interested,” I say without thinking. “I’m definitely interested.”

Of course life isn’t as simple as just being interested in the apartment and one magically falling into my hands. Frankie texts me the information which is sadly towards the top end of my truly pitiful budget but includes a double room, furnishings and the apartment has a balcony which in itself is a big reason enough to say yes. I instantly conjure up a romantic image of me sipping from a steaming mug of coffee in the mornings, watching the sunrise.

It’s farcical. I hate the sunrise, or at least being up at that time. I’m not a morning person at the best of times. 

Frankie says there’s a beach view from the balcony though … if you squint, lean one arm and twist at a very precise angle. It’s something he has advised he doesn’t recommend without exceptional health insurance though so that’s definitely off the table for now. He mentioned it’s close enough that the landlord said it was a coastal view but it’s clearly not really.

Texting him feels so easy - there’s a lightness to the conversation, even as we talk about something as serious as becoming roommates. It’s why I’ve agreed to this - the next step and the one that is now filling me with dread.

The coffee shop we decided to meet at is halfway between his place and Molly’s. I haven’t been here before but I mentally take notes of the roast, of the general ambience. The brownies look amazing - the perfect combination of a fudgy middles and the solid crackly top that immediately calls to me.

It’s a neutral space though, one where we can finally make a decision of am I becoming Frankie’s roommate or not.

I think I want to.

I really can’t take another week of Craigslist -especially after watching that true crime documentary last night.

I twist the empty sugar packet into a knot, only looking up as the doorbell chimes. I see Frankie immediately.

He’s wearing a baseball cap, dark hair curling out from underneath and the Florida FD hoodie he’s wearing looks particularly well worn, comfortable. I can almost imagine how it smells.

No. No. This is a roommate negotiation.

“Hey,” Frankie says as I stand up to greet him. I immediately panic - is this a hug situation, that feels too familiar, but a handshake feels like an awkward callback to my corporate days. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.

“Oh, you already ordered?” Frankie asks.

“Yeah, sorry, I got here a bit early. Overestimated the traffic. I haven’t been here long.” Frankie looks at my almost empty mug of coffee, cocking one eyebrow.

“No worries. Do you mind if I grab a drink though? Want another?”

“Oh no, I’m good, thanks.”

“Okay.”

He walks over to the counter and I sit down and watch him carefully. This is a test really, an opportunity to try and work out his personality further. Does he talk to the barista? Is he cold or insufferable? Is he rude? These are all qualities I should be able quickly establish in just a few moments. Mum always taught me to notice these things on a date, to tease out those basics in the early days. Not that it’s foolproof. Not always at least.

Frankie seems. pleasant though, laughing with the barista but there’s almost a shyness about him. I don’t get it. From how Benny described him - a pilot, a firefighter pilot no less, I would have expected him to be as extroverted as Benny.

Frankie’s a surprise though. There’s a quietness to him, a slow and careful evaluation in each glance, in how he takes in the cafe around us as he sits opposite me. He’s assessing everything too and it occurs to me that as much as I’ve set this meeting up to work out if I can live with him, he’s doing the exact same thing.

The people pleaser in me instantly calls to attention, ready to perform and be perfect, be liked. To succeed. Automatically I straighten my posture, try and remember my very best table manners. I prepare to perform.

“What’s your poison?” I ask, which is a phrase I never use and an immediate sign I need to shift out of performance mode.

“Just an Americano.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t approve?”

“no, I guess it’s fine. I mean, I would personally recommend a pour-over and filter coffee than a watered down espresso. Something like a V60 or a -”

“I see what Benny meant about the coffee truck.”

“I’m not judging!”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, only judging a tiny bit. Mostly I’m rambling. I’m just - I’ve never got the watered down espresso thing.”

“It’s got two extra shots in if that helps,” he confides with a smirk, “I was on shift yesterday.”

“Oh, we could have arranged this for later -”

“It’s fine. The shift wasn’t too bad, even got a few hours sleep!” Frankie empties sugar into his coffee and smiles up at me.

“How did you end up in the FD then? I don’t – I don’t remember it from before.”

Frankie pauses, twisting the empty sugar packet in his hands. The silence holds just long enough I worry I need to change the conversation before he speaks. “A couple of years ago I needed a change. It’s been good, much better than commercial helicopter flights for rich people.”

“Making a difference?”

“Trying to.” A ghost passes over his eyes. I immediately realise the link - Tom. His death. Was that the trigger for Frankie joining the fire department?

“Anyway, the apartment -” Frankie starts, reaching for his phone, “I took some new photos this morning.”

His wallpaper is him with a small boy. His son. I take in the wide toothy smile on his photo, the bright shine in his eyes and the same features I can see in Frankie, accompanied by a head full of brown curls.

“Felix,” Frankie says, a soft smile on his face.

“He looks like you.”

“Poor kid.”

“No, I mean - uh, how old is he?”

“Four and a half. He stays with me on alternate weekends, if I’m off shift, and sometimes in the week if his mom’s working late or something. A lot of it depends on my work patterns but that’s the general rule of thumb.” He wrings his hands together and I wonder what the story is there.

I have limited experience with children to say the least.

I’ve reached that point where half of my friends are parents, sharing photo after photo on their social media and speaking a whole new language. In contrast, the rest of my friends appear still mentally stuck in their early twenties party mindset. I’ve never been sure where I fit in with that; I’m definitely not a huge partier, but that sort of responsibility and commitment has filled me with anxiety. Maybe it’s my choice in friendships, in love.

I try not to think about it too much, the friendships left to dust over, the dates I was too scared to go on. I threw myself into my work instead because it felt safer somehow. I defined myself by my career and made that the only metric that matter.  I poured all of myself into the corporate world for all those years and it turns out I was naive. So naive. I actually thought they cared about me.

It’s hilarious in hindsight. Now I’m in Florida without even a leaving card to commend the efforts I put in. I’m a barely remembered spectre in the place I once thought I was indispensable in. A shameful secret swept under the rug. A never repeated name.

I can’t go back to that world again.

“Are you okay?” Frankie asks, concern creasing his brow. Great, five minutes into talking about becoming roommates and he already clearly thinks I’m disturbed.

“I’m fine, sorry, must have drifted away for a second.”

“Happens to us all,” he says lightly. “So, is that a problem?” Frankie folds his arms and I get the clear sense that he’s annoyed, that I’ve missed an important cue somewhere.

“Is what a problem?” I ask.

“Felix staying at the apartment, because sorry but it’s a non-negotiable”

“No, not at all. No, I just … I drifted away, like I said.”

“Right.”

Great, this is the first apartment that feels reasonable, and Frankie seems like a nice person and I’m wrecking it. Somehow at best, I’m managing to come across as scatty and someone who doesn’t listen, and a child hater at worst.

I need to get out of Molly’s. I need to make Florida work for me.

“I do that sometimes,” I say quietly, “It doesn’t mean I’m not listening, or anything. It’s just … it’s just something that happens. I don’t have a problem at all with Felix or …. it’s your home, Frankie.”

He pauses. “If you take the room, it’s yours too though.”

“And I get why you’re being careful about who takes the room because of that. Look, I can’t promise I won’t secretly judge your coffee choices, or leave coffee grounds everywhere, or watch really terrible TV from time to time, but I …”

“You don’t have to explain. I get it.”

“You do?”

“I do.” Frankie smiles. “So, you’re still interested in the room then? You really wanna do this? I thought Benny might be putting you up to this and I won’t be offended if you don’t want to live with some random guy.”

“Benny keeps reminding me you’re not though, are you?”

Frankie shrugs and looks away, something flashing over his eyes briefly that feels a little haunted.

Since moving back to Florida, I’ve realised that, at least for Benny and Will, Tom’s death is still an open wound even now. It makes me feel worse sometimes because Will was so kind to me after the funeral, so keen to ensure I knew they’d be there if I needed them, that I could rely on them in Tom’s absence and I didn’t know how to say I’d never been able to rely on Tom. My brother spent his life a half-stranger to me and I feel like a fraud pretending we were real siblings.  In five and a half years, the Millers and my brother’s ex-wife have been more of a family to me than Tom ever was.

“It’s okay,” Frankie says, “I’m sure you’ve got far better roommate options.”

“I actually really don’t. One guy asked for foot pics, and these women kind of judged me because I wasn’t corporate enough anymore, so I don’t have a wealth of better options.”

Frankie frowns slightly.

“It’s a brutal market. And your place looks… nice and you seem like you wouldn’t ask for -”

“Some guy really asked for that?”

“I blocked him, it’s fine. It’s the internet, Frankie.”

“Sometimes I fucking hate that thing.”

“Yeah, but I like being able to shop in my pyjamas.”

Frankie laughs. “Okay, fair point. So, Daisy, do you want the room? ‘Cause if you do, it’s yours.”

My heart races. The room is mine? It’s not just that I’ll be escaping from feeling like a perennial thorn in Molly’s life, but it’s a beginning. Finally I have the chance to make something here, to be Daisy 2.0 and leave the corporate burnt out husk of my old self in the rearview mirror.

“You don’t have some weird neighbour who plays the bagpipes at 3am?”

“No, I don’t have one of those. It’s a normal building.”

“Good, just wanted to check. Okay then, yeah, I think I do. Want the room that is.”

“Great. I’ll get the agreement emailed over to you and we’ll go from there.”

“This is going to be good”

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

I think this might be the handshake part.

Tag List

If you would like to be added to to my overall taglist please let me know - I am no longer creating individual fic taglists though. As a reminder this blog is 18+ - minors do not interact and I block blank/ageless blogs. Tag lists are a bit funky at the moment, so I recommend following me or my fic account @thelightsandtheroses-fics (you can enable notifications for that account) if you want to ensure you're up to date

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

[lavendermoonlitskies]

When I say I feel betrayed over this whole situation, I don’t mean by Neil. I don’t believe in the whole parasocial relationship thing, and I know damn well that he’s just some random man halfway across the earth, whom I have no reason not to believe he’d do something so despicable. I feel betrayed because I let my guard down. I let myself forget that men in positions of power have always been prone to behaving this way, and I got myself all immersed in something he had a major part in creating.

I’ve said this before but I haven’t been this excited about a piece of media in a very long time, and I don’t know that I’ll ever let myself do this again. I get obsessed with things, when I decide I really like something it takes up like 90% of my inner thoughts. I normally try to tone it down, not become annoying to the people around me when I find that it’s hard not to talk about something that really lights me up, but this time I tried reminding myself that I deserve to fully embrace the things that make me happy. So I did. I joined Ao3, I started reading and writing fics, I logged back on to my 10 year old Tumblr account and rebranded it to my new hyperfixation, I even joined a number of discord servers and Facebook groups. It really hurts to have all that so tainted overnight.

I’m sorry if you followed me for Good Omens related content and now I’ve only been posting about this the last couple days, maybe that will change some day but right now I don’t know. I’m trying not to spam.

[rotten-pomegranate]

Hiii thanks you very much for answering my ask🥹❤️

But can please I get one where they never find reader🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Yandere Adult trio and trouble trio when reader escapes and they never find her

First one here

Yes bbg

This is a bit short

Warnings: killing, yandere

𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧𖥧

Feitan

Feitan is offended and pissed that you have the audacity to try and escape him

He’s gonna look for you for years and even after he stops looking he’s still gonna check from time to time if you’ve become brave enough to make a Facebook page or a snapchat account

Even if he knows you aren’t with them he’s gonna kill all the family and friends he didn’t already torture to death trying to find you

Phinks

Like in the last one phinks is heart broken, why was he not enough for you, he fed you, clothed you, made sure you had a comfortable place to sleep every night

He’s gonna low key go crazy the more time passes that he can’t find you and he might ask the troupe for help and if he still can’t find you and they all fail at finding you he’ll be forced to stop because of his mental health

He’s still gonna have some major heartache though, oh some random person that has the same hair colour as you asks him for help? They are getting punched so hard they won’t be recognizable, he sees the nail polish you used to wear in the store? He’s buying it all just so he can throw it away when he’s done smashing them all

Shalnark

Shalnark isn’t very good at showing his emotions but he is sad, not because you got away because he’s doubting himself and his abilities to kidnap someone

He’s buying pad locks and camera and motion detectors for weed before he starts looking for you, that’s probably good for you because it gives you time to get away

When he starts looking he doesn’t think it will take long but you actually did a good job at disappearing and he’s slowing getting more frustrated

He’ll try less but he’ll never stop looking for you so make sure to always cover your tracks well

Chrollo

Chrollos not that worried, he starts tracking you right away and because of that he probably gets close a few times which slowly starts to piss him off

When he can no longer find anything about you he involves shalnark to help and when he can’t find anything he’s having a whole troupe meeting about it

He’s never gonna fully stop looking and he’s never gonna get over the loss of you, he might try and replace you but it isn’t help so he’ll kill the innocent person in your place

Illumi

Illumi is gonna go bat shit crazy when he finds out you escaped, the whole house is gonna know the whole town below his house is gonna feel his bloodlust

He’s gonna have every family member, every dog, every maid and butler out looking for you so you gotta be speedy

Your best Bet is honestly going to another country if you can do that without leaving any footprints

He’s gonna replace you because his family says he has to but whoever comes after you doesn’t mean anything to him like you did

Hisoka

Hisoka is the calmest, he figured he’d find you in like a week because of his skills and hunter license but after a couple months pass he’s starts getting annoyed

He’s pushes other stuff aside at this point to fully focus on looking for you but when it hits the one year mark he pushes it to the back of his mind again

He still makes en effort from time to time but not as often, he is sad you left you where his favourite toy and he didn’t even get a chance to break you

©rotten-pomegranate- All rights reserved, don’t steal, translate, copy, plagiarize, claim my work as your own or post it on other platforms.

[mariacallous]

For Sander van der Linden, misinformation is personal.

As a child in the Netherlands, the University of Cambridge social psychologist discovered that almost all of his mother’s family had been executed by the Nazis during the Second World War. He became absorbed by the question of how so many people came to support the ideas of someone like Adolf Hitler, and how they might be taught to resist such influence.

While studying psychology at graduate school in the mid-2010s, van der Linden came across the work of American researcher William McGuire. In the 1960s, stories of brainwashed prisoners-of-war during the Korean War had captured the zeitgeist, and McGuire developed a theory of how such indoctrination might be prevented. He wondered whether exposing soldiers to a weaker form of propaganda might have equipped them to fight off a full attack once they’d been captured. In the same way that army drills prepared them for combat, a pre-exposure to an attack on their beliefs could have prepared them against mind control. It would work, McGuire argued, as a cognitive immunizing agent against propaganda—a vaccine against brainwashing.

Traditional vaccines protect us by feeding us a weaker dose of pathogen, enabling our bodies’ immune defenses to take note of its appearance so we’re better equipped to fight the real thing when we encounter it. A psychological vaccine works much the same way: Give the brain a weakened hit of a misinformation-shaped virus, and the next time it encounters it in fully-fledged form, its “mental antibodies” remember it and can launch a defense.

Van der Linden wanted to build on McGuire’s theories and test the idea of psychological inoculation in the real world. His first study looked at how to combat climate change misinformation. At the time, a bogus petition was circulating on Facebook claiming there wasn’t enough scientific evidence to conclude that global warming was human-made, and boasting the signatures of 30,000 American scientists (on closer inspection, fake signatories included Geri Halliwell and the cast of M*A*S*H). Van der Linden and his team took a group of participants and warned them that there were politically motivated actors trying to deceive them—the phony petition in this case. Then they gave them a detailed takedown of the claims of the petition; they pointed out, for example, Geri Halliwell’s appearance on the list. When the participants were later exposed to the petition, van der Linden and his group found that people knew not to believe it.

The approach hinges on the idea that by the time we’ve been exposed to misinformation, it’s too late for debunking and fact-checking to have any meaningful effect, so you have to prepare people in advance—what van der Linden calls “prebunking.” An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

When he published the findings in 2016, van der Linden hadn’t anticipated that his work would be landing in the era of Donald Trump’s election, fake news, and post-truth; attention on his research from the media and governments exploded. Everyone wanted to know, how do you scale this up?

Van der Linden worked with game developers to create an online choose-your-own-adventure game called Bad News, where players can try their hand at writing and spreading misinformation. Much like a broadly protective vaccine, if you show people the tactics used to spread fake news, it fortifies their inbuilt bullshit detectors.

But social media companies were still hesitant to get on board; correcting misinformation and being the arbiters of truth is not part of their core business model. Then people in China started getting sick with a mysterious flulike illness.

The coronavirus pandemic propelled the threat of misinformation to dizzying new heights. Van der Linden began working with the British government and bodies like the World Health Organization and the United Nations to create a more streamlined version of the game specifically revolving around Covid, which they called GoViral! They created more versions, including one for the 2020 US presidential election, and another to prevent extremist recruitment in the Middle East. Slowly, Silicon Valley came around.

A collaboration with Google has resulted in a campaign on YouTube in which the platform plays clips in the ad section before the video starts, warning viewers about misinformation tropes like scapegoating and false dichotomies and drawing examples from Family Guy and Star Wars. A study with 20,000 participants found that people who viewed the ads were better able to spot manipulation tactics; the feature is now being rolled out to hundreds of millions of people in Europe.

Van der Linden understands that working with social media companies, who have historically been reluctant to censor disinformation, is a double-edged sword. But, at the same time, they’re the de facto guardians of the online flow of information, he says, “and so if we’re going to scale the solution, we need their cooperation.” (A downside is that they often work in unpredictable ways. Elon Musk fired the entire team who was working on pre-bunking at Twitter when he became CEO, for instance.)

This year, van der Linden wrote a book on his research, titled Foolproof: Why We Fall for Misinformation and How to Build Immunity. Ultimately, he hopes this isn’t a tool that stays under the thumb of third-party companies; his dream is for people to inoculate one another. It could go like this: You see a false narrative gaining traction on social media, you then warn your parents or your neighbor about it, and they’ll be pre-bunked when they encounter it. “This should be a tool that’s for the people, by the people,” van der Linden says.

[22ndnervousbreakdown]

Which social media would Sherlock Holmes characters have, according to a discussion I had with my friends in the middle of a night a couple days ago. This is ACD Holmes I think but leaning onto Soviet movies somewhat.

(And yes I'm aware telegram isn't popular outside of russian-speaking internet but just let it be part of the joke i guess)

Holmes: a lot of fake accounts on every website ever, but the only place that he actually posts on for himself is his telegram channel about tobacco varieties that has almost no followers. When Watson learned that Holmes has telegram, he was pissed because he thought Holmes is there to buy drugs.

Watson: he's a really popular ao3 writer. Also has a tumblr blog and an insta where he posts pictures of food, pictures of Holmes and sometimes his drawings (which he photographs with a lot of random stuff in the background for "aesthetics"). He also created a number of "official" Sherlock Holmes accounts without telling Holmes and makes all the posts there himself.

Mrs Hudson: facebook, where she posts recipes, household advices and stuff like that, and occasionally grumbles about Holmes and Watson. Also whenever they do something that really pisses her off, she would list the flat for rent, but always take it down shortly.

Moriarty: tumblr where he mostly posts about maths and a personal website to advertise as a private math tutor. Also a private telegram channel that Holmes somehow managed to follow from a fake acc.

Lestrade: EVERY social media ever. Most notably, twitter, where he always gets in fights (especially with Holmes's fake accs). He also set up an official Scotland Yard tiktok where he just makes really bad edits of policemen just walking somewhere with some music and lots of filters on.

Irene Adler: Instagram. Also onlyfans where she posts really rarely and she's always fully clothed, but she still has like thousands on thousands of followers there.

Mycroft: an official twitter that he hired someone to manage. Also facebook.

Mary Morstan: She doesn't actually exist, it's just one of Holmes's fake Instagram accs where he posted pictures of "Watson's wedding" to escape rumours.

Sir Henry Baskerville: onlyfans with only one subscriber whose username is infusoria666. Everyone but sir Henry himself knows it's Dr. Mortimer. Also Dr. Mortimer tried to set up a travel blog for him but ended up having to post there by himself.

Dr. Mortimer: tumblr blog full of skulls and also a youtube channel. He's also one of the few people who follow Holmes's tobacco telegram, and probably its biggest fan. When they met, he mentioned his youtube channel a lot, hoping that Holmes will ask for a link, but he just ignored even the most obvious hints.

Also:

Baker Street irregulars all have tiktok. They force Watson to watch skibidi toilets.

Lestrade writes with a lot of errors and uses emojis excessively.

Moriarty writes immaculately with all the capital letters and punctuation and periods in the end of every sentence. Holmes does the same but with no capital letters.

Holmes followed Irene Adler from one of his female fake accs. She in turn followed his tobacco channel from a male acc, and commented under one of his posts recommending him to follow a blog on autism.

Once Watson posted a photo of his lunch on his insta and after that a photo of Holmes with a caption "desert :)" and refused to delete it.

Holmes made a youtube channel about beekeeping when he retired.