#but i’m less sure of what kind of law i want to practice

[wyvernne]

hope everything is going well!! I just came off spring break too .. I miss doing nothing already. as someone who has a friend who just finished law school, you can do it!! believe in you :)

thank you 😭 one of my brothers is a lawyer so i’ve definitely been harassing him for reassurance. i just keep reminding myself that there’s only two years left after this.

#it’s just so UGHH #at least i enjoy it #more or less lol #but i’m less sure of what kind of law i want to practice #i want to do pro bono but it’s probably not going to be possible as a full time career #just financially #but i plan to do it at some point in my career #i haven’t been hit by that ‘this isn’t for me’ bomb like some people have #but it is reassuring that every lawyer i’ve talked to did not enjoy law school lol #the most successful ones i know told me they cried all the time #i feel like it’s a test of emotional resilience as much as it is knowledge #i’m actually a painful introvert and it’s taken years for me to get over it #but as a result i constantly feel like i’m bluffing when i network and do interviews lol #also my OCD does not help my fears of screwing things up but #🥲

[reiderwriter]

Hii! Could you write a Spencer x fem reader, she's extremely confident & forward and Spencer gets all flustered, shy and overwhelmed at how forward she is with flirting with him and complimenting him (even tho he loves it), thank you:-)

A/N: This was such a cute request, thanks for sending it in! I love shy and oblivious Spencer he's so silly and cute ㅠㅠ

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Spencer Reid is a genius. But if he hasn't noticed you've been flirting with his for a week straight, he must be an idiot. Non-BAU!Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol intake. Kissing. Slightly suggestive ending.

Here's my masterlist, requests are open! 🎉

Working with the FBI as a consultant on a case was practically a dream come true for you, but what was even more dreamy was the man you got to work with whilst consulting. You’d arrived bright and early, really eager to help with the case you’d been called in for. On the phone, Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner had asked for your help decoding some documents that the team thought had something to do with the Literature you were teaching as part of your course at a local university.

In all honesty, you were a massive fan of detective novels, an early love for Agatha Christie and the Golden Age of mystery making you entertain an idea in law enforcement before you decided that really wasn’t for you, so you were eager to help out in anyway you could fathom.

“One of our Special Agents, Doctor Reid, has decoded most of it, but he says there are some key areas he may be missing and he wants to pick your brains, to see if you can help him come up with something,” he said, guiding you into a small sideroom.

Having previously heard that Doctor Spencer Reid had achieved no less than three PhDs and three additional Bachelor's Degrees in varying subjects, you weren’t quite sure to expect when walking into the room. You certainly weren’t expecting one of the prettiest men you’d ever seen in your life to be sat reading through a pretty thick tome at an incredible speed.

“Reid, this is Professor Y/L/N, she’s here to help you decode the cypher. Professor, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.” Hotchner introduced you, but as soon as you picked your jaw up off the floor, you instantly stepped forward.

“Please, call me Y/N. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you… Spencer was it?” You smile and stick out your hand. You notice the flush on the man's face and your grin grows even wider as he hesitates to take your hand.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really shake hands, the number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.” He stutters through the words, almost struggling to get them out, but you don’t falter for a second.

“Kiss me then,” you say smirking up at him and you realise that the other agent had since left the room, leaving you alone with the object of your affections. Ignoring your response, but face tinged such a bright shade of red that you knew he was effected by it, he dives into the facts of the case.

“We think that he’s using some kind of cypher based on some books you’ve been researching recently at the University, which means we think he could possibly be a student of yours. I read through your PhD thesis this morning, and there are certain commonalities that suggest you could be the key to solving some of our unknowns.”

“You read my thesis? What did you think of it?” you ask, moving to sit in the chair directly next to him, scooting it a little bit closer than was polite.

“I don’t have a degree in Literature of the Renaissance Period, so I’m not sure how much value my opinion really holds in this scenario,” he looks at you and you’re pleasantly surprised at how genuine he’s being.

“Well, you’ve seen mine, can I see yours?” you allow the cogs in his brain to keep turning for a few seconds then continue. “I’m sure with three PhDs to your name, you’ve probably got a few research papers floating about, right?”

“Oh….” he blushes again, turning his eyes away from you and doing his best not to make eye contact. “I’m sure I could send them to you after we’ve completed this case if you think they would allow you a deeper insight into any of my fields of study.” He coughs a little to hide the way his voice pitched up as he spoke and kept his eyes trained on the book in his hands.

This consulting role was going to be the most fun you’d had in weeks.

–X–

A week later, you found yourself sat at a bar, surrounded by the members of the BAU team celebrating another case closed, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to fully partake in their merryments exactly. You’d assumed, after an entire week of flirting very openly with Reid, that when he’d asked you to the bar that evening to celebrate wrapping up the case, he’d meant just the two of you. Alas, you had discovered over the week that not only was he the most adorable man you’d ever met, he was also the most oblivious. Impressive for a man with an IQ of 187.

You couldn’t complain too much. Your help on the case had meant the rescue of two young girls, two of your students in undergrad courses nonetheless, so you’d at least made a difference. You had nothing against the rest of the team either, having become fast friends with Garcia, and enjoying your twenty minutes of small ltalk in the morning at the coffee station with Prentiss, Morgan and JJ as well. Hell, you even loved Rossi, who gave off the fun Uncle vibe that you found rounded out the team well. But you couldn’t curb your disappointment still, so you distanced yourself from the table a bit and removed yourself to the bar to grab yourself a new drink. You stayed there for a few minutes to nurse it.

“Hello, beautiful,” the man sat at the barstool next to you leered down at you, “you looking for some company in the bottom of that glass tonight?” He winked at you and your skin crawled. It wasn’t just his creepy smile, and the disgusting way he dragged his eyes over your body, it was that he was also very likely older than your own father. Some people were into that, but you certainly weren’t

“Not today, thanks,” you said, hoping that would be enough to get him to leave you in peace, but of course it wasn’t.

“Hot piece of ass like you, you need a real man to take care of you.” He pushed his hand out and for a split second you were convinced he was going to make an attempt to smack your ass. Before he was able to make contact, and, perhaps more importantly, before you could be arrested for aggravated assault, a hand was wrapping around your hip and pulling you away from the man, your back colliding with a firm chest behind you.

“Y/N, Special Agent Hotchner is about to leave and he wanted to thank you for coming to consult for us. The FBI is always really grateful for conscientious citizens like you willing to help us keep the streets safe.” Spencer turned you around and said, emphasising words to make it clear what his job was, speaking loudly enough that you knew the words were only for the creep behind you who’d thought to lay a hand on you.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said as the man downed the rest of his drink and made to leave the bar, obviously embarrassed and threatened by Spencer’s arrival. He made to loosen his grip on you as the man left, but you through your arms around his neck, not letting him leave. If this was your last opportunity to make him realise what you wanted, you absolutely weren’t going to let it get away from you.

“I wanted to thank you for this week as well, Spencer. Hotch said it was you that recommended me for the consulting role.” He blushed and stood there a little awkwardly, but made no move to leave, his hands unmoving from your hips. It reminded you of your middle school prom, in all honesty.

“Oh that’s no big deal. It worked out pretty well in the end, though, right, with your students and everything.” You nodded and thanked him again, but you were still pretty reluctant to see him walk away, back to the table filled with his closest friends and colleagues.

“So, are you looking forward to going back home? I’m sure your boyfriend or husband or whatever will be really glad to see you again.” He mumbled and you felt your heart stop for a second.

“Spencer, I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a husband, or any kind of partner for that matter. I’m sorry if I made you think I do,” you saw his eyes widen in panic a little, and you relaxed a bit yourself as he started to talk again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed that someone as pretty as you couldn’t be single.” He stuttered every single word out, and you didn’t quite register his words for a second.

“You think I’m pretty?” you ask looking up at him and he gapes down at you, realising this conversation is just him shooting himself in the foot over and over again.

“Shit… what I mean is…Y/N you have to know you’re gorgeous, right?” It was your turn to blush then, feeling the sincerity in his words.

“You know, I thought you were asking me out on a date tonight.” You tell him, watching his entire face crumple again in distress.

“But I told you we were going out to celebrate finishing the case!” He spoke in his defence.

“Spencer, what were your exact words?”

“Y/N, do you want to grab a drink tonight? It would be nice to celebrate now that the case is closed and- oh. OH.” The realisation dawned on his face, and you enjoyed the little look of devastation that played out there as his blush deepened.

“It’s fine, Spencer, really. If you’re not interested in me, you’re not interested, I get it.” You sighed, finally moving to let him go, resigned to your fate now.

“Wait, Y/N, that’s not what I meant!” He grabbed you by the hand gently, not quite as close as you were the moment before but still standing notably close. You realised you probably had an audience for this.

“I didn’t realise that you’d want to go on a date with me, you’re so beautiful and smart, I just never thought you’d be interested.” Your brain almost exploded with that, and you had to make a conscious effort to not have your jaw drop to the floor, but apparently the man wasn’t finished. “I just assumed you had a flirty personality, and like, really look at you and then look at me-” you absolutely had to cut him off before he said anything else, so you did.

Crashing your lips up into his was the most sensible thing you’d done since stepping into the bar that evening. He was statuesque at first, unmoving while your lips pressed against him, but he warmed up to it and began kissing you back with equal fervor. You moved the hands that were holding yours to your waist, then moved your own hands up to tangle in his hair, playing with a few curls at the base of his neck.

After a few minutes, you finally pulled away to see a dumbstruck expression on his face.

“Oh. Oh, I see now,” was all he could get out, unable to form more words as he panted into the space between you,

“Yeah? That’s good. I’ve been flirting with you all week, so it’s nice of you to finally notice.” You giggle up at him slowly, and he tightens his grip on your waist.

“What should….what should I do now?” He asked, obviously a little bit unsure of himself, and happy to let you take the lead.

“Well, you can either take me back to your place now, or you could start with asking me out on that date?” He looked like he was seriously weighing up his options for a minute, before he looked you in the eye again.

“Can I do both?”

--X--

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @bluecandycake @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @daddy-dotcom @zaapsite @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @kat453 @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @alyssaxstan @ghostheartbeat @beguiling3lavender @Casss2111 @zatannas-wand @rebloggiest-reblogger @kspencer34

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #requested

[literaila]

what was readers (atf) reaction to finding out tsumiki being cursed and put in coma? probably felt like she’s failed at protecting her children after years of balancing their lives and safety. hopefully sobbed in gojos arms 😭

“satoru,” you croak out.

your voice is nothing but a mere whisper. it’s a drop of water in the ocean, a footstep on the expanse of the world.

you’ve never felt so small. you’ve never felt like your actions mean nothing more. never more helpless, than this.

“hey,” satoru says, and you know that he can tell that there’s something wrong. “what’s going on?”

“can you come home?”

“yeah, yeah of course i can, baby. i’ll call ijichi to pick me back up. what’s happening?”

“satoru,” you say, again, because there’s almost nothing left.

“hey. hey. we’ll fix it, whatever it is. talk to me.”

“tsumiki’s in the hospital.”

your hands clench around the steering wheel. there might be an ethical discussion to be had about the danger of driving with tears in your eyes, talking on the phone.

but you could give less than a damn about safety, right now. right now—it just doesn’t matter.

there’s a pause.

you can hear satoru breathing.

“what?”

“megumi—“ you wipe your eyes, speeding up. the law can be damned too. “megumi said that she wouldn’t get out of bed this morning—that he couldn’t wake her up. and so he called me and then i—“ you stop, gasping for air that’s practically unreachable. “i told him to—“ but you break off again, because your throat is burning.

“what hospital?”

“i don’t—i can’t remember the name.”

“okay.”

“i’ll—i’ll send it to you. when i get there. im on my way now.”

“are you driving?”

“yeah.”

“okay, baby. send it to me when you can.”

your eyes well up once again. “did you finish your mission?”

“no. i’d just gotten here. it’s probably better that way, ijichi isn’t far. i’ll be there soon as i can, okay?”

“okay. i—i’m sorry.”

“why are you sorry?”

you can’t hold back a gasp, a sob, any iteration of failure that might fit. “satoru,” you say, wishing so badly that he was right there with you. “i should’ve stayed home. megumi shouldn’t have found her, he shouldn’t have—“

“you think this is you fault?”

“i just—i shouldn’t have left them alone. what if—“

“no.” satoru is almost whining, but not quite. “megumi isn’t six anymore, sweetheart. he’s fourteen. he’s alone all of the time. how were you supposed to know—“

“i’m their mom. i’m supposed to protect them from stuff like this.”

“you can’t control when something bad happens.”

“i can’t—she’s—“

“we’re going to figure it out. tsumiki’s strong—she’s probably the strongest of all of us. she’ll be fine.”

“you don’t know that.”

“i do.”

“why’d this have to happen to her? to our little—“ you stop, feeling that digging in the pit of your soul. that tiny little chant—failure, failure, failure.

“i don’t know,” satoru whispers. “i’m sorry.”

“why are you sorry?”

“i don’t know,” he whispers again.

“is ijichi there yet?”

“almost.”

“okay.”

“hey,” he says, again, in some kind of secret language. “it’s going to be fine.”

“okay.”

“are you still driving, baby?”

“i’m almost there. one, two minutes.”

“want me to stay on the phone?”

“yes.”

“okay. i’m right here. i’m almost there,” and he says it over and over.

hoping that maybe it’ll come true.

though, you’re not quite sure that satoru will ever get there fast enough.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #a typical family #satoru gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo satoru x you

[benedictscanvas]

bluebells - remus lupin x reader

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

word count: 0.8k

a/n: i just keep thinking of teeny tiny remus concepts and i have to write them every time. thought it would be fun to do another in the recent universe (1, 2 & 3) from sirius' perspective. this is quite unedited, but i'll have a check on it tomorrow. enjoy sunflowers <3

---

“Do you have a secret admirer you haven’t told us about?” Sirius asks, as innocently as he can.

The question has Remus sitting up a little straighter on the stool in your kitchen, just as he intended. Remus may never have spoken to him about his feelings for you, by some miracle, but they were plain as day to anyone with a brain cell between their ears. Sirius was fairly sure you were equally enamoured - but you were harder to read than his precious Moony.

“What are you on about now?” you laughed, able to shrug off the question easily. Sirius sidled up to the tiny vase of flowers that sat on the granite countertop, filled with imperfect bluebells that didn’t look shop-bought.

“Only the very pretty bouquet in your kitchen that someone has clearly picked for you,” he practically purrs, “And don’t try to convince me you picked them yourself, doll, because I know for a fact you haven’t been walking in the woods.”

That only makes you laugh harder, and Sirius knows he’s got you. He’s hoping you’re about to praise whoever picked you those flowers and Remus will get sufficiently jealous to snog you senseless or something. Sirius hasn’t figured out his full match-making plan yet, admittedly.

“Obviously, I didn’t pick them,” you agree, glancing with obvious shyness towards Remus, who already has telltale pink cheeks, “Remus is the one doing all the woodland walking in this group. He is sometimes kind enough to fill my teeny tiny vase for me.”

And Sirius just gapes at you. Then at Remus. He can’t help it, because whatever he was trying to achieve, it is utter madness that Remus himself could be the one to pick you flowers and still neither of you could move past a more than friendly friendship. 

Remus is glaring at him now, because he’s clearly been gaping so long that he’s made the whole atmosphere awkward. You turn your attention back to making cups of tea, but Sirius sees the way you fluster. He’s made it weird. He was trying to make it a bit weird, yes, but not like this.

“Sorry, I had to take a second there,” he said, through a half chuckle, “Just struggling with the idea that Moony is bringing you flowers and he’s never once thought to bring some for me?”

Sirius is just charming enough to get away with it. Remus softens, his glare now holding far less scorn and you throw him a smile over your shoulder as you get the milk out of the fridge.

“He likes me better,” you argue playfully, sticking your tongue out at him. Just like that, all awkwardness is gone and replaced by the almost flirting thing the two of you do that drives Sirius mad - he wants to tell you both to give your heads a wobble.

“I can give you the leftovers if you like, Pads,” Remus chimes in, “But I’m afraid the finest flowers are already reserved.”

And Sirius watches Remus smile at you like you’re the sun and moon and all the stars combined, and it melts his heart a little. Who is he to rush you? You grin back at Remus like there’s a secret to be shared.

But of course, Sirius must keep up the facade and so he grunts in annoyance.

“I see how it is. Fifty years of friendship and look where it gets me,” he grumbles, “Pretty sure picking flowers is objectively wrong, too.”

“Drama queen,” you say through a cough, then adopt an instant wide-eyed innocent look when Sirius rounds his glare on you.

“Fifty years? We’re in our twenties Sirius.”

“Friendship like ours defies the laws of nature, honey,” Sirius smirks, and Remus’ nose wrinkles.

“And if you pick flowers in moderation, it can actually benefit their conservation,” you say, placing the three cups of tea on the table and waving Remus over from the island stool to sit with you and Sirius, “So drink your tea and stop whinging, Sirius.”

He gasps in mock offence and then pretends to burn his tongue on the tea, just to see you and Remus roll your eyes at him together. When Remus sits down, he thanks you for the tea under his breath and you smile your brightest at him, squeezing his elbow as you hurry away to get the biscuit tin.

Sirius takes another look at Remus’ lovestruck face even though all you did was touch his elbow. He’s not sure whether it’s cute or slightly sickening, but he glances at the pretty shitty bluebell bouquet on the table again and decides that if the two of you are happy as you are, he won’t try to interfere again.

(it lasts all of thirty seconds, because the two of you gang up on him about biscuit choice as soon as you sit down with the tin, and Sirius immediately decides it’ll be worth it to fluster the two of you, if only for his own amusement)

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #remus x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #marauders x reader

[thosehallowedhalls]

Confrontation

Book: Crimes of Passion (pre-canon)

Characters: Emma Rose (F!MC), Michael Masako (M!OC)

Rating: Teen

Word count: ~1200

Summary: Emma is finally ready for therapy. But is she also ready for what it entails?

A/N: Submission for @choicesmonthlychallenge, prompt: I don't know who I am anymore. @choicesficwriterscreations

Dr. Michael J. Masako came highly recommended. He’s also more or less affordable, which a 20-year-old broke college student needs to take into consideration. Especially if she wants to attend that performance of A Doll's House next week.

Emma fidgets in her seat in the waiting room, drumming her fingers on her thighs. Immediately, she hates herself for it. If there’s one thing she doesn’t do, it’s show her nerves for all to see. Surreptitiously, she looks around. No one is paying her the least attention.

The receptionist looks up from the computer screen. “Emma Rose? Dr. Masako will see you now.”

She walks to his office on shaking legs, wishing she had stopped for coffee on the way, so she’d at least have something to occupy her hands. A good-looking man who appears to be in his fifties opens the door for her.

“Emma, come in.” He shakes her hand, then gestures to the chair on the other side of his desk. “Please, sit.”

She likes his smile. It’s professional but warm. She still doesn’t know if she can go through with this, but she’s put a little more at ease.

“What brings you here, Emma?”

“Er… that is…” She clears her throat. “I’m not sure.”

That’s a lie, of course. Emma wouldn’t even have considered therapy unless she was sure. But how do you tell a stranger I don’t think I know how to feel anymore?

“All right. Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself, then?”

“I’m a pre-law student at NYU.”

“That’s a very good school.”

“I guess.”

“Do you know what kind of law you want to practice?”

“Oh, I don’t want to go into law. I’m going to be a cop.”

If Dr. Masako is surprised, he doesn’t show it. He clicks his pen and taps it on his palm. “I see. What made you choose pre-law, then?”

“I figured it made sense. You know, can’t defend the law unless you know the law, that sort of thing.”

“Sound logic. Your parents must be very proud.”

“Oh. Um…”

He waits her out, and damn it, she needs to learn interrogation techniques from this guy. “My father is dead,” she says at last.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shrugs.

“And your mother?”

“I doubt she’d care. She walked out on us when I was six. I haven’t seen her since.”

“How old were you when your father died?”

“Thirteen.” She takes a deep breath and decides the hell with it. “He was murdered. Right in front of me. He died holding my hand.”

She didn’t mean to say this last part aloud. But every time she thinks about that day, it’s in snippets. The stale air in the tunnel. The stickiness of her thighs after sitting under the sweltering sun. The taste of a corn dog still coating her throat. The clammy feel of her dad’s hand in hers.

She lowers a mental shutter against the thought. Block it. Kill it.

Something she learned early on is to block out the images, to push them aside as soon as they begin to creep out. At the end of the day, if she wants to make it through the day with her sanity intact, it’s important. Necessary.

Impossible.

“That’s a lot for anyone to deal with, let alone a thirteen-year-old.”

“Yeah, well. I survived.” Unspoken is he didn’t.

“That doesn’t mean it hasn’t left a wound.”

She gives him an unimpressed look. “A wound? Slicing your finger when you’re chopping onions leaves a wound.”

“A wound can be deep and life-changing, Emma. I’m not diminishing the gravity of what you've experienced.” He clicks his pen again in what she’s coming to realize is a signature move. “What scars would you say your father’s murder has left in you?”

“Other than the obvious?” She probably should have held the sarcasm at bay, but what kind of question is that?

Dr. Masako isn’t the least bit ruffled. “What’s obvious to you may not be so to others, but yes. Other than the obvious.”

She takes a deep breath. This is why she’s here, isn’t it? To learn how to cope with the scars from her father’s death. She just didn’t expect to be thrown in at the deep end so fast, is all. “I…” Her throat closes up.

“We can talk about something else,” he says, matter-of-factly. “If you’re not ready to talk about this, we can shelve it for now.” He smiles. “Most people stand to benefit from therapy in more than one area of their lives. I’m sure you aren’t an exception.”

She smiles, grateful. “No, I can do it. It’s just…”

“Take your time.”

“My dad didn’t want to go, you know. To that baseball game. He’d had a tough week at work, and he just wanted to watch a football game at home and drink a beer. But I wanted to go.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Perhaps not, but that doesn’t change the fact that he wouldn’t even have been there if it wasn’t for me. I… I haven’t been able to stomach watching a game since he died.”

“That’s understandable.”

“It feels wrong, though. Baseball was something my dad and I had in common. I don’t think he’d be happy with me that I just stopped watching it.”

“Do you think about that a lot? What would make your father happy?”

She fidgets. “Kind of. Sometimes. Yes.”

“You seem uncomfortable. Do you think you shouldn’t?”

“I think… I think I no longer know whether I do what I do because I want to or because of him. I don’t know who I am anymore.” She stops herself. “God, that’s such a cliché. What does that even mean? Of course I know who I am. A girl with one too many flower names who spends more of her paycheck than she should on theater tickets and shoes.”

“That’s a good start. But you still said that you don’t know who you are. Part of you means that.” He clicks his pen again, and God, she’s starting to hate the sound. “It seems to me, Emma, that you spend a lot of time on what you should be feeling and very little on what you actually feel.”

“What, you’re telling me to go around whining?”

“I’m telling you to let yourself feel what you feel. If you don’t give yourself the space to do so, all the emotions you’ve been burying are going to come up eventually. Most likely at an inconvenient time.”

She tastes the sticky aftertaste of fear on her tongue. “I can’t.”

“You survived a deeply traumatic event when you were just a child, but you’ve never really let yourself cope with it. In order to move on, you must do so.”

“I don’t know how to cope with it. That’s why I’m here.”

“Then you’ll learn.”

“How the hell do I do that?”

He clicks the pen. She’s tempted to snap it in half. “The first step, Emma? Stop running away.”

#emma rose #detective rose #oc: michael masako #crimes of passion

[atmilliways]

Wrong On The Money (20)

part 20 of ?? | 514 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

Eddie is still trying to scrape his jaw off the floor of the RV when Robin pokes her head in.

20.

Eddie is still trying to scrape his jaw off the floor of the RV when Robin pokes her head in. (The least of it all is that he can check off that one resolution about Dustin that he’d noted in triplicate.)

“Steve told me to check on you,” she offers, cautious and suspicious in a way that suggests she has no idea why. (At least there’s that.)

“Ain’t he a peach,” Eddie mutters. (He kind of is. That’s the problem.)

“Yeah. So. . . .” Robin inches her way up the stairs. “What’s up, kittypup?”

He snorts, and hops up to sit on the kitchenette table properly. “Oh, you know. Just riding the waves of some pretty damn earth shattering revelations about Steeeeve Harrington.”

Robin doesn’t even attempt to hide her smirk and ventures a little further inside the RV. “Been there. He has a lot more layers than you’d think after being around for his King Steve era.”

“Right?” Eddie sighs. “Rich parents, popular, chicks love him—not a douche?” He shakes his head, waves his hands as though clearing his own words from the air. “No way, man. No way. That flies in the face of all the laws in the universe.”

Also his own personal Munson doctrine, but he’s already torn that to shreds on his own time and doesn’t like to think about it.

The thing is, the more he gets to know Robin, the more certain he is that she would rip him to pieces if she knew what he’s done. Which sucks, because he also has a growing suspicion there’s more than one reason she wouldn’t care that Steve was at a gay bar, and . . . he just didn’t know that there were other queers in Hawkins. He would have loved to know that, to feel a little bit less like a freak burrowing into even the outcast fringes of society. If he’d run into Steve inside the club, already drunk, he would’ve happily danced with him and saved the double-take for the morning.

“I should go,” he says abruptly, hopping down from the table. “See if Dustin wants to practice with our new gear and shit.”

“Sure,” Robin agrees with a shrug, turning and leading the way back out. “And hey—as a fellow newbie to this group, I’m here if you do need to freak about all this shit, okay? If it’s in there, definitely best to get it out of your system sooner rather than later.”

It’s not what she’s talking about, but Eddie almost wants to say something. He’s not sure what, but something. Ask her if she’s a friend of Dorothy, maybe. It lodges in his throat like a stone, though, and when he swallows it settles heavy in his stomach.

If he’s learned anything about himself recently, it’s that he’s no hero outside of D&D. He sees danger, and he turns heel to run.

So he says, “No, I’m good,” and trots off to find Dustin, trying to ignore the feeling of Robin’s eyes on his back as though she can see and judge all his secrets.

#steddie blackmail fic #steddie #steddie fic #stranger things fic #eddie munson #robin buckley

[sotwk]

I didn’t realise that you answered so soon! You are thanking me?! I am thanking YOU, my friend for your fast reply and beautiful writings.

Yep my crying was definitely the good kind and much needed, I’ve to say. I’m an emotional type of gal (also a wreck). Toddlers are such treasures and your little boys sound so sweet too, I hope your husband is feeling better and that the weekend was great for you all. 

“He's just that shy, slightly awkward and nerdy guy who might get overlooked for being quiet, but he's actually a hottie who's unaware of his own sex-appeal.”

This, like, this is so true and I couldn’t have said better. Thranduil needed those 3/4hundred years cooking, it did him good for his temperament. 

We have brothers! YES! 

First age is definitely tragic, those boys needed more time for sure, they deserved to see their little sister happy, luckily the two youngest had each other for a time and yes I want to know more about the cousin I just know he is just as wonderful as the Thranduilions. Can’t wait! 

I definitely overlooked the references to the cousin in the other ffs, and as soon as I have a few minutes I’m going to go get another look. 

Also I'm very curious about Glorfindel and his family, his granddaughter (great-granddaughter? don't remember atm sorry) is a great oc already.

With love, 

Anon who asked about Celebrian

I am thanking YOU, my friend for your fast reply and beautiful writings.

I wish I could tattoo this in my brain for the down days when I feel like my writing is nothing more than "silly nonsense" or "a waste of time". Your encouragement and eagerness to discuss my AU with me is a treasure beyond price and I am so grateful to be one of the writers you have chosen to spend your precious time on.

I admit one of the main reasons I have so far mostly danced around going into detail about First Age ancestors (Maglor, Círdan, Glorfindel, etc.), is because I have low confidence in my knowledge of the Silmarillion (I read it once, years ago, and so my recollection of all those details is not exactly solid), and I am intimidated by the expertise of Silm fans. Those I am mutuals with are sweethearts, but I have run into some less kind ones, unfortunately, so I'm a little gun-shy.

Anyway! Here is what I can offer/clarify for you regarding Glorfindel in the SotWK AU:

SotWK AU Headcanons: About Glorfindel

Glorfindel is the son of a Vanya father and of Findis, daughter of Finwë and Indis. This makes him not any mere "kinsman" of Turgon, but his most devoted cousin.

Glorfindel secretly loved Elemírë (oc), the twin sister of Elenwë, who had followed her sister and brother-in-law across the Helcaraxë.

But the Exile made their love story a turbulent one, and they did not confess their shared feelings until the Long Peace, although when they did, they married soon after.

During that peace they had one child, a son called Ingwil (oc).

Ingwil became the grandfather of Itarildë (oc), who would become the wife of Crown Prince Mirion and daughter-in-law of Thranduil. Thus you can see that Itarildë (the Quenya name of Idril) was in fact named after her grandfather's favorite cousin.

I mentioned this in a previous post, but in my Fili x OC fic, "The Only Gold", Anariel, Thranduil's granddaughter, is called "my kin" by Elrond: "This is her home, Master Gloin," Elrond responded sharply. "Where you are the visitors. We practice great tolerance in Imladris to make allowances for cultural differences. But I will not abide the harassment of anyone, least of all my kin."

This also means Glorfindel provided the Vanyar ancestry that resides in Crown Prince Aranion (Thranduil's grandson and heir), so that in the Fourth Age, Eryn Lasgalen is ruled by an elvenking with the blood of all three clans of High Elves.

There you go! Perhaps someday I will write a story about First Age Glorfindel and the OC wife I created for him. It's a wonderful romance sitting in my head! But my to-write list is super long as is, so I can make no guarantees.

I feel like I can fancast just about any character in Middle-earth, EXCEPT Glorfindel! (Maybe because I already used Henry Cavill for Mirion, haha.) If anyone has any good suggestions, I'd be happy to hear them!

Tagging just a few friends I know who have a particular fondness for Glorfindel: @modernmythic @aduialel @wareagleofthemountain @g-m-kaye

#sotwk answers #anon asks #i have the best anons #anon kindness #sotwk headcanons #sotwk ocs #sotwk fanfiction #glorfindel #thranduil #silmarillion #lotr #the hobbit #tolkien #anariel #aranion #itarilde

[dailyadventureprompts]

I don’t know if this is valid as it’s not an adventure request, but DMs were closed so it wasn’t possible to check in advance.

What is your position on campaigns/adventures that are very direct parallels to colonialism? Somewhat broad question but I’m curious where you stand on the subject, especially since opposing ‘foreign explorers use violence to extract wealth from less developed peoples’ is about as mainstream as D&D gets.

ALT

ALT

Heavy Topics: Colonialism

I find this question so interesting because for a long long time d&d was a game that was (at least tangentially) very pro-colonialism what with the scientific racism built into the lore about how the lesser monstrous races should be culled, curtailed, or corrected. People thinking that Anticolonialism is a hallmark of the game means that somewhere along the way there’s been some kind of seachange, either in the playerbase or the greater culture and it’s happened over the course of my fairly short d&d playing lifespan.

I’m going to go into lots of detail on this below the cut, but TLDR: While D&D has never specifically endorsed colonialism, the game used to have  driving factors that were direct holdovers from the imperialist tradition:  a dynamic of inherent superiority for those peoples deemed “good” Just like in our own history, these drives were seen as heroic but seem to have rapidly fallen out of fashion leaving an uncomfortable gap at the heart of the hobby.

As for adventures that involve colonialism, they’re fine, just do your research and make sure you’re not glorifying or tacitly endorsing genocide. A lot of great stories can be told against the backdrop of mass exploitation, just be extra cautious if you’re going to try and directly reference/evoke something that happened in our own world.

First, Lets talk about supremacy:  In the earliest days of d&d, the world was divided into two sides, law and chaos, with law taking on everything that could be considered good and nurturing, and chaos taking on all that was wicked and destructive.  It was this meme, but literal:

ALT

I don’t think I need to tell anyone this, but that sort of ideology is the worldview of an oppressor, one who thinks their own nation/religion/ethnicity is right and chosen and all others are inferior. It’s also the same sort of cartoonish black/white morality you see in today’s fundamentalists: my enemies can’t just be wrong, they have to be doing the most evil things I can imagine ranging from being authoritarians to practicing human sacrifice and being in league with the literal devil.   That’s why the argument “(depiction of monster fantasy race X)  isn’t racist, (X) are literally embodied evil and thus its ok to kill them” should never hold any water because it’s the exact same narrative that’s been trotted out over and over to justify IRL genocides on various scales.

The old monster manuals used to go out of their way to talk about how various species of monstrous humanoids ( which is totally not a synonym for “lesser races btw) spoil their environment just from living within it, that they make nothing of real value, no art no tools, and what weapons they have are either crude constructs or stolen from their betters. The obvious connection here is that the players should feel no qualms about walking into their lands and putting them to the sword so that “real” people can make use of those lands, or at least to stop their encroachment on the party’s own territory.  And here we get to the root of the issue: in trying to create a world in which it is ALWAYS right for our heroes to slaughter their way through hundreds of enemies, the evolving mythology of d&d over nearly 50 years adopted the exact same talking points used by the villains of our world whenever they felt like they had slaughter their way through hundreds of other human beings to get what they wanted. As one of those people who others would slaughter in the pursuit of a “pure” world, I have a big problem with that.

Surprisingly, grey morality leads to way less implicit hate crimes: If two cultures are going to war it’s not because one side is evil and the other is good, It’s because  that’s what people in a resource-scarce environments have always done, especially when they were desperate or their leaders saw a chance to acquire more power.  I can look at the reign of one history’s greatest warlords: Genghis Khan and say “I think him executing whole cities and making pyramids out of their skulls was an atrocity”  without thinking the people of the Mongolian steppe have and always will be servants of the dark lord Baphomet, demon prince of slaughter. If we abandon the justifications built into the game to make killing always a good thing, what we end up with is a diverse gaggle of fantasy species that can be played off against one another when building a setting.   Sure, some of these groups may HATE eachother and even commit unforgivable acts against one another, but by removing the lore based condemnations of one group we end up creating a world where that hate and those unforgivable acts aren’t implicitly justified.

Art

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #adventure #5e homebrew #homebrew adventure #heavy topics #racism #colonization #writing #writing advice #DM advice #dm tips #dm tip

[liminalmemories21]

WIP Wednesday

There are days when I look at sentence I write and think, yup that sure is a sentence there.  is it good?  Is it bad?  Is it functional?  Who can say.

And, I know it’ll pass in a couple of days and I’ll remember how to write/remember how to think usefully about how I write, because it always does.  But in the middle of it, it never feels quite certain that it will. (also, I am aware that this is 100% hormonal, but that doesn’t always help)

All of which to say, this bit may or may not end up in the final story.

"You were an art thief?" His mother says faintly dubiously, like she's not entirely sure that her husband and son aren't playing an elaborate practical joke on her.

"Yes."  He can hear his mother's confusion in the quality of her silence, and TK must be able to sense it too, because he says, "High end art.  I wasn't stealing from anyone who couldn't afford it."  He pauses, "I made a lot of rules for myself to justify it, to make it more than just something I was doing because I could, and I was good at it, and because I was addicted to the adrenaline rush."

And, addicted isn't a word TK uses lightly, and Carlos ponders what it means that TK has used now, and in this context. "What kind of rules?" his mother asks, which isn't the question he'd expected her to ask, and he thinks it surprises TK too because he falters slightly.

TK glances around, "Take that painting for example."  He nods at the landscape on the living room wall, that has been there as long Carlos can remember, and he thinks might be of the ranch.  "At auction you could probably get fifteen, twenty grand for it, maybe as much as twenty-five if you weren't in a hurry to sell it and you could wait for the right buyer."

His mother looks surprised, "Really?"

TK nods and gives it a more evaluating look.  "It's what, mid-1800s?  Nice lines, good colors.  If you took it to a professional restorer to have them clean it the colors would pop more.  Where'd you get it?"

"My bisabuela painted it."

TK blinks, and then laughs, "Okay, for the record, I did not know that.  I was not trying to suck up."  His mother tucks a smile into the corner of her mouth.  "Noted."

TK gestures at the painting again.  "But my point was, I wouldn't steal that, not just because I'm not risking jail for $20K, or because your husband is law enforcement and I'm not actually that stupid, but because you love it, and every time you look at it it makes you happy."

He can hear his mother's frown, "That was your rule?"

TK shrugs, "More or less.  Art wants to be looked at.  It wants to be loved.  I stole from people who bought things because they were expensive, or because they were status symbols.  They didn't mean anything to them, they didn't," he grimaces, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but they didn't spark joy."  His mother laughs softly, and TK laughs with her.  "They bought them to have a thing, not because they wanted that specific thing."

His mother sounds thoughtful, "And you find that offensive?"

TK considers that seriously, "I think I do.  Art means a lot to me, it always has, and the idea that people treat it as nothing more than a poker chip to up the ante is," he waves a hand, searching for a word, "obscene."  

#wip #sequel to knave of hearts #tarlos #911 lone star

[chicken-fifi]

Braids - Changbin (Stray Kids) Imagine

Requested by anon: I have a really interesting and fun request for skz changbin. Could you do something where his s/o is bonding and spending time with his family and they mention that they know how to braid hair, and they want them to prove it so they end up braiding his sister’s hair. (You can add onto it if you want) (From the vlogs she seems like such a cool person to hang out with) 🙌🏻(Gender neutral reader please) 💗💓

Word Count: 962 words

Changbin slowly pulled to stop as he pulled into the small driveway of his childhood home. You saw the curtain move ever so slightly just as the car was shut off.

“You’ve met my parents before,” he said, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips, gently kissing it. “And they loved you. Why are you this nervous?”

“Your sister wasn’t here when I met them,” you reminded him. “This is the first time I’m meeting her and I don’t want to give the wrong first impression. I know how much she means to you and the last thing I want is for there to be a rift between you two because she doesn’t like me.”

“She’ll love you. Just as much as I love you.” Not letting you say anything else, he opened the door and quickly ran around the front of the car to open yours, “I also have to make sure my mom knows I’m treating you right. She’ll murder me on the spot if I’m not.”

The small comment eased your nerves slightly as the two of you made your way to the front door not having to wait a second before the door opened and his mother pulled you into a strong embrace completely ignoring her son’s existence. 

“Has this son of mine been you well?” she inquired, pulling away slightly.

“As well as I can expect,” you replied. “I still have to do the cooking since he’ll burn down the building if I even let him near the stove.”

Changbin elbowed you with a smile on his face, relieved that you lost some of your nerves. The two of you entered the home, his father greeting you both warmly before whisking Changbin away needing his help moving something in another room. You went to follow his mom into the kitchen offering to help with whatever she needed only for her to refuse and shoo you away into the family room.

“What kind of future mother-in-law would I be if I had you work when you’re supposed to be visiting and enjoying someone else cooking for you - without burning the house down, might I add - for a change?” she recited quickly, almost as if she had practiced the sentence the night before knowing this exact situation would happen.

With heat spreading across your cheeks at her ease at calling herself your ‘future mother-in-law,’ you roamed back into the living trying your best to go unnoticed by the figure sitting on the couch closest to the window - Changbin’s sister. She looked exactly as you had envisioned her whenever your boyfriend described her to you while telling you about the many things they’d done as children. It had to be comical how slowly you moved to take a seat on the couch, as if you were Drax trying to blend in with your surroundings. As soon as you were seated you looked at anything and everything that wasn’t in her direction. It was awkward as crap. You willed Changbin to finish whatever it was he was helping his dad with as quickly as possible, wanting him to come and help with the awkwardness before you were sure to make a less than pleasant impression on the woman sitting on the couch who was now looking at you.

“He talks a lot about you,” she said. “I don’t think he’s ever talked about anyone he’s dated to me as much as he does about you.”

You gulped slowly turning to face her, “H-he talks a lot about you too. Well the younger you. I mean-”

She laughed lightly, “I’m not going to bite your head off. You sound like a genuinely good person and you make my baby brother happy so that makes me happy….gosh that’s gross.”

You smiled lightly, taking in her appearance. Your eyes zoned in on the funky braid she had going on in her hair, “Your braid-”

“Yeah,” she sighed out. “I can braid other people’s hair no problem, but when it comes to braiding mine I’m a hot mess. I used to braid Changbin’s hair all the time when we were little, he would get so mad but he never stopped me from doing it.”

“That sounds like him,” you laughed out loud. “Do you want me to fix that for you real quick/”

She nodded leaving the couch and sitting on the floor in front of you, letting you undo the braid she’d done and starting a new, much cleaner one. As you worked the two of you talked amongst yourselves about many things, the conversation coming much easier and smoother than before. So much so that neither of you noticed when Changbin walked into the living room and went to stand by the doorway that led to the kitchen. As he leaned on the wall, a smile graced his lips as he remembered just how nervous you’d been to meet his sister. He had no doubt in his mind that she would like you. Heck, everytime he spoke to her she would ask about you, wanting to know more about the mystery person - to her at least - that he was dating and clearly in love with.

“She’s been wanting to meet (y/n) for a while now,” his mother said as she snuck up behind him. “She refused to leave today without meeting them wanting to see if you were all talk.”

“I think she just wants to tell them about all of the embarrassing things I did because she convinced me it was okay.”

His mother laughed remembering one of those moments, “(y/n)’s such a good person. Take good care of them and don’t let them go.”

“I have absolutely no intention of losing them Ma. Trust me.”

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #stray kids #stray kids masterlist #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids changbin #stray kids seo changbin #changbin #seo changbin #changbin imagines #changbin scenarios #seo changbin imagines #seo changbin scenarios

[transpoettryinghisbest]

(Guess who just watched Turnabout Gold Medal and got hopelessly obsessed with a certain ship!! Trigger warnings are in the tags.)

The courtroom empties and I’m the last to leave. I stumble out into the empty hallway. I’m not sure where to go or what to do with myself now. I wonder what happened to Vice Chairman Nivantess. Ex-Vice Chairman. I suppose he’ll be put where all of the criminals go. He always told me not to worry myself with it, as it wasn't anything to do with me. Whatever happens to criminals after they face judgement isn’t my concern.

I’ve known Nivantess my whole life. He was a close business partner with my father and he practically raised me. He taught me everything I know, from small distinctions between law definitions, to the big things - the legal and moral building blocks that this country and I rely on. He’s always taught me right from wrong. How to behave. What to say. What to believe.

It all feels like a lie now.

I don’t know who I am anymore.

“Alright, Chairman?”

I jolt in surprise. There, coffee mug in hand, is Mr Godot. The prosecutor and head of the Judicial Olympics. I instinctively want to tell him everything that’s running through my mind. But all I can manage is:

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? You look like your mind’s been stirred up more than milk in coffee.”

“Oh.”

He glances down, then recoils. “Crowmack, you're bleeding.”

“I am?”

My right hand is indeed dripping blood from a cut on my palm. I hadn’t noticed until now.

“Come with me,” Mr Godot says.

He takes my upper arm and guides me in a particular direction. I follow.

“Where are we going?”

“To the medics. To get you patched up.”

“Okay.”

Once we get there, the medical office is empty, but Mr Godot sits me down anyway. He takes off my glove, which has been slashed and ruined, to reveal a cut running across the top of my palm. It's stinging slightly. Mr Godot finds some bandages and gently starts wrapping it around my hand.

“Is it too tight? Am I hurting you?”

“No.”

I didn't feel anything when it first happened. I think I was in some kind of shock, but the shock is wearing off now. I can feel the sensation of Nivantess’ cane against my chest, pushing me to the ground. I still hear his voice ringing in my ears. Feel his chin against my knuckles.

“You want to talk about what happened?” Mr Godot asks.

“I…”

I do and I don’t. I have so many rushing thoughts that I can’t get anything coherent out.

“It’s alright, take your time.”

“I don’t know,” I finally settle on.

I’m used to having decisions made for me, even little ones. It used to be a relief, less to worry about, but I know now that it was a small part of something more sinister. An attempt to change me. To silence me.

“I’m here if you ever want to talk,” Mr Godot says.

“It’s…hard to talk sometimes.”

“That’s okay.”

He finishes bandaging me and just sits quietly, sipping his coffee. He’s not staring at me, demanding I speak up. He’s not rushing to talk for me or talk over me. He’s very comfortable with silence, it seems. I feel the pressure ease a little.

“I didn't mean to punch him,” I say, eventually. “I didn't think. I just did it.”

“We all do things without thinking about them sometimes.”

“I shouldn't have done it.”

I don't want to be someone who solves problems with violence. Someone who can't control his fists. I don't want to lose sight of the morality and purpose of my actions.

“Do you regret it?” Mr Godot asks.

“I…”

All I remember is the rage. I went through so much fear and confusion that day. When I finally came face to face with my mentor, the man who betrayed me, I tried to speak some sense into him. Tell him that he'd gone too far. But my voice froze up. Like it is now. Like it always does.

He pointed the knife at me.

And something just overcame me.

“I don't know,” I say. “Do you think I should? Regret it?”

“I think it was cool.” He takes a sip. “But it's up to you.”

I think about the moment I saw that blade pointed in my face. I didn't know it at the time, but everything he'd done had lead up to this moment. Vice-Chairman Nivantess always vying for my father's position, always falling second best, but still pulling strings behind closed doors, claiming it was for the greater good. When I was born, he saw me as someone to shape for his own benefit. Someone to use for my authority. Someone he could dispose of at any time.

He meant everything to me. He was like a father and a teacher to me. But I meant nothing to him.

“It's been a crazy couple days for you, huh,” Mr Godot says.

“I don't…know what to do with myself. I…I can't stop…” I rub my forehead, as if trying to calm all of my racing thoughts.

“It's all good. Whatever you want to do now is your choice.”

I don't know if he means long term or just today. I don't know what I mean. I don't know what I want. I don't know how I feel. Am I angry at Nivantess? Am I angry at myself? Do I hate myself?

I think I'm too tired to be angry. Not physically tired, but emotionally. I'm scared. For the state of this country now. And for me. I have no family. I have no one.

And I miss my father.

I wonder what he'd think if he could see me now. He raised a strong leader, not a snivelling child. But he was betrayed by Nivantess too. And he'll never know that. Nivantess called him foolish and incompetent. Just like me. Just like my whole family and the legacy that ends with me. It's a heavy burden and for years it was unknowingly stolen from me. But now it's finally mine, I feel a duty to uphold it.

I just hope I'm strong enough to do so. I still feel so weak. Just a lonely child crying for his father.

“It's alright, Kitten.” Mr Godot gently strokes my upper back.

“K-kitten?”

“Yeah. Cos you're small and cute but you have claws. You can fight back, I've seen it.”

I lean into him and he strokes my hair. For a moment, I forget about my responsibility. I forget about Mr Godot's job and his impressive, elaborate schemes. I forget about everything and just focus on this moment.

This feels nice.

“I just want to make my father proud,” I whimper, eventually.

“I think you already have.”

“I…I have?”

“You know what injustice is and you stand against it. Even before you knew of Nivantess' schemes, when he tried to do something that didn't feel right, you fixed it.” He chuckles. “And you sure know how to make a point when you want to. I raise my mug to you, kid.”

“Thank you. I…I appreciate all of your help.”

He wipes the tears from my eyes very gently. “I couldn't have done it without you.”

He finishes what's in his mug and sets it down beside him.

“So, Chairman Crowmack. What do you say to a little coffee date?”

“Coffee date?”

“Just a chance to…” He lifts my chin up. “…get to know each other a little bit.”

“O-okay.”

He tuts, shaking his head.

“Okay is not an answer, Chairman. If you wish to, you have to give me a yes. And if you don't, a no. And whichever you choose, make sure it's your choice.”

Mr Godot makes me feel nervous. But everything makes me feel nervous. He makes me feel…a different kind of nervous. I don't dislike it. It makes me feel compelled to…be close to him.

“My answer is yes.”

He grins. “Alright. Then. Let's Olympic.”

#ace attorney #ace attorney stage play #turnabout gold medal #jack crowmack #prosecutor godot #aa godot #tw blood #tw knife #tw abuse mention #crowdot #tw food mention #selective mutism #selective mute #ace attorney godot #fanfiction #ace attorney fanfiction

[rosallora]

S3E4 Passing Through Gethsemane

I predicted this was a chess game before it was a chess game and personally I am very proud of myself.

Kosh is komin’ home! Welcome home Kosh.

Also the monks live here now! They’re giving out little figurines and people LOVE little figurines. I hope the monks make a biergarden and shit if they’re going to live here. And do like, Cool Monk Things (tm) instead of just being BORING monks.

Kosh’s suit is sounding better! That’s good, and also consistent with what I was thinking in the moments that we saw him before.

Lyta is back! She went to Vorlon space... FOR REAL. And the Vorlon Homeworld FOR REAL FOR REAL! Lyta is like a special little attache for Kosh now! The way she talks about him, it’s kind of like Kosh is like her supernatural werewolf boyfriend and honestly I love that for her. She’s living her best life.

The Monks are smart businessmen! This black rose that the monk found feels like a threat to me. Or... it’s TUXEDO MASK!

Death walks among you

Rather threatening message! Too bad it’s gone now!

I love that Londo tried to threaten Lyta with the psi corps, and Lyta was like “I will rip your fucking brains out”. KILL LYTA! KILL!

Learning about the Minbari way of religious philosophy is super intriguing. And I appreciate that Delenn doesn’t just stop at giving, but wants to learn about the human practices and religions in turn. And the Garden of Gesthemane is an interesting story, and a really moving one, honestly. The strength to stay. I’d like to think that the monks (esp Brother Edward!) and the Minbari have weekly meetings about faith.

Brother Edward went through death of personality! That’s my theory. That’s why he’s seeing this stuff, why he’s doing all this. The black rose was his calling card. He was a truly unhinged person!!! I’m glad that he is talking to Brother Theo.. but I’m worried about what’s going to happen to Edward. He seems like he’s been enjoying his new monk life, but... oh man. Oh man.

Note: ALL BUT CONFIRMED by Brother Theo. Oh... this is bad.

The slight changes in character and the ACTING on this guy... this is really awesome. He’s KILLING it in this role. And he’s doing a wonderful job portraying the inner turmoil and grief and panic that he must be feeling.

I’m wondering how the Garden will come back in this regard. The sins were forgotten... but the soul remembers.... that’s so interesting... you can’t pay penance, perhaps, for what you don’t know. For what you forget. The idea that this is not enough justice... it’s so intense. And that SHOT... with Edward CRYING.... that’s such an amazing image. And I want the best for him. I want him to be okay. And I don’t want him to die.

I really hope that we can come out of this with a better SENSE of justice. This is all very... over the top punitive. Sick and twisted. Bringing Lyta in as a kind of brute force crowbar is NOT good either. I don’t like that going around the law is being shown as a “good” thing.

He DID have the courage to stay at the garden. That’s... an interesting wrap-around. I really don’t want him to die, though. I want him to live through this. I want him to be able to recover, and grow, and be a better person. I don’t want him to simply die. Maybe this will inspire something in Garibaldi (and perhaps Sheridan?) though. I want them to be... less punitive. Less militaristic.

Forgiveness is a HARD THING, sure. But something to strive for, always.

The prison to monk pipeline..........

#That title took forever to type #S3 #Babylon 5 #Rosa Watches Babylon 5

[togaki-kun]

15 Questions!

thank you to @justsomeoneunordinary for tagging me!

Were you named after anyone?

yes. it’s weird though because i don’t know the actress’s actual name. she was a chinese actress that my mom liked at the time, and when she heard her english name, she liked it so much that she gave me the same name.

When was the last time you cried?

i’ve been watching a lot of dr. mike on youtube recently, and he did a video on the k-drama hospital playlist, which i re-watched yesterday. the scene that made me cry (yet again) was the one where they’re doing chest compressions on a little girl and the mom of the girl sobs, “please, just (stay with me) a little longer.”

Do you have kids?

no

Do you use sarcasm?

weirdly, i’ve started using sarcasm less now than i used to. not sure why. i should get back into it

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

…height? maybe? it depends on what’s most eye-catching, so it’s a case-by-case basis

What’s your eye color?

brown. my mom used to try to convince me it was black, but i can say with full confidence it is brown

Scary movies or happy endings?

good god, give me that happy ending. unless you want me waking up in a cold sweat at 3am every night for a week after watching the scary movie, give me the goddamn happy ending, and please, let it be anything but a thriller or horror

Any special talents?

i’m really good at diving for receives in volleyball. i’m also quick at getting to feints in tennis, even though i am the slowest person you will ever meet

Where were you born?

presumably, on earth.

What are your hobbies?

practicing piano, plucking my ukulele, buying books i will never read, drawing stick people on post-it notes and crumpling them up, singing to karaoke at full volume in the shower when i know full well it annoys my little brother, reading fanfic, watching youtube

Have any pets?

no, but i claim aunty rights to my sister-in-law’s two cats, who live in the same house as me

What sports do/have you played?

i did volleyball for many years until band kind of took over my life. i did basketball in elementary. played a bit of tennis with my older brother in summertime. i was in the ping-pong and badminton clubs in high school. does marching band count? most people don’t think it’s intensive enough to be considered a sport, but have you ever marched at 180 bpm in 90+ degree weather down a 4-lane wide main street?

How tall are you?

168 cm. my mom is very proud of my height.

Favorite subject in school?

music theory, band, western music history, history. as you might be able to tell, i was a music nerd. not so much anymore

Dream Job?

a job that pays well, has good benefits, and good people. something i enjoy, but doesn’t have to be a passion or love, just something i like well enough to keep me interested

alright, now i’m passing the baton over to @yuuuzuuubalm @hargrieve @ftld42 @hinaniao @coziimae and anybody else who would like to play!!

#togaki answers #tag relay

[omgkawaiipinkhime]

I’m still thinking about the abortion ban thing here and I need to ramble about it somewhere and my mom doesn’t want to hear it anymore so:

I can’t carry a pregnancy to term, or at least not a healthy one. If I were to get pregnant, I would need to abort it for my health (which I realize no one cares about) and the fetus’s health (which prolifers supposedly care about). I have a lot of health problems, I’m on a lot of medications that all cause birth defects and increase the possibility of miscarriage. No one knows what will happen if you are on all these medications at the same time while pregnant, only separately and that’s already bad enough. I can’t go off of them if I want to maintain my health and not die. I don’t know if I’d be forced to go off them or if I’d be punished for taking my medications as directed by my doctors if I were to miscarry. These medications are also all passed into breast milk so I wouldn’t be able to breastfeed because my milk would be toxic. There’s a fucking formula shortage. If I were to give birth, the newborn would go through withdrawals from the medications I’m on. Those are torture for me, a grown woman, if I just miss one dose of any of my medications. I can’t imagine what kind of torture it would be to a newborn to suddenly go cold turkey on all of the medications I’m on.

Going off the medications would be just as bad. It would also increase the risk of miscarriage (stress can cause miscarriage) and increase my risk of postpartum psychosis. Not to mention it could fucking kill me. Even ignoring the medication side effects, I have multiple health problems I can pass on to any offspring I have and I am not willing to knowingly inflict the torture I have endured on another human being. Especially since I do not ever want to be pregnant in the first place!!!

I’m doing literally everything in my power to avoid pregnancy, abortion would be my absolute last resort. I don’t even have any contact with men. I don’t date, I’m not looking to date, I don’t even have male friends. I’m on birth control. And still, all that doesn’t reduce my chance of pregnancy to zero because I can still be assaulted and my birth control can still fail. Even getting my tubes tied won’t completely reduce my chance to zero. There is absolutely nothing I can do to get rid of the vulnerabilities my body has simply because I was born into this body. Sure, I could get my ovaries and/or uterus removed, but that’s a really extreme procedure that has several severe health consequences. Not to mention that I shouldn’t have to practically gut myself just to maintain my bodily autonomy!!!! I shouldn’t even have to consider getting my tubes tied. It should be as simple as “just close your legs” but what dumbfucks don’t understand is that it’s not that simple in a world where men use their bodies like weapons!! Also that phrase is vulgar and disgusting regardless!!!

I wouldn’t even be able to access abortion with all my health problems because it wouldn’t be considered good enough. If lawmakers don’t even think ectopic pregnancies are a good enough reason to abort then my “little” problems won’t be good enough either. My life doesn’t legally matter because of a hypothetical fetus. I have less worth than a corpse. I am less human than a fetus that doesn’t even currently exist.

The fact that pro-forced birthers can’t understand that they are in the wrong is vile. These politicians shouldn’t have power, this shouldn’t be a debate. Abortion is a human right, end of discussion. These laws will kill people. They will kill women and girls. And the “prolifers” will not give a shit because the stuff they are advocating for has never been about “life”. It’s about control.

#abortion is healthcare #abortion is a human right #it’s about the economy too #and oppressing women and girls #hime.txt #like things weren’t good with roe v. wade protections #it’s about to get infinitely worse #and all creeps online can do is call women whores for not wanting to die #And call women baby killers for not wanting to die #it’s not even a baby that’s a fetus #we all know that prolifers don’t actually care about babies or children #if they did they’d be advocating for more affordable formula a better cps system etc #children are tortured to death by abusive parents but it’s crickets from the prolifers #I’ve seen some unfortunate shit #we treat children like trash or products to be bought and sold but NO ONE is interested in treating actual born children better #I have seen too much evil shit from people esp recently #I’m angry sad tired and scared #I want to get a gun but I don’t think my dad would be too supportive of that… despite being progun….

[marta-bee]

I recently bought Susan Dimmock’s “Classic Readings and Cases in the Philosophy of Law,” and today read the first chapter/selection on natural law. Is it natural to liveblog a textbook? Let’s just say it’s a good thing I’m past caring about normality, more or less.

(Also posted to El Jay, but I heard some of you like philosophy, so I thought I’d share this here as well.)

I had a half-day off and wasn't meeting up with the Kid until later, so I read the first chapter of my legal philosophy textbook this afternoon. It was a mini-essay on natural law along with a series of selections from Aquinas. Which is such an odd place to start in a lot of ways because it's so based in a whole other political system than our current one. I mean, I focused so much on medieval philosophy and know quite a lot about him though more other areas than the social/political philosophy this was pulling from. And it had a nice nostalgia factor for me. Still, it felt like starting your study of astrophysics by reading a treatise by Ptolemy.

I did find the way the intro-essay framed natural law to be really interesting, though. Basically it says that law is something not dependent on human minds creating it, and it's in our power to discover it. That's a very medieval way of defining "real," or close to it. Not real in the sense of being physical but the kind of thing that would still be true whether or not anyone created a theory or law based on it. It's the kind of thing we can get right or wrong, and we can't just make any law we want. The bits of Aquinas excerpted were a bit vague on the specifics, which is probably good --as I recall Aquinas's politics can get really mired in his metaphysics of authority and where power originates from really quickly, probably way too complicated for present purposes-- but it's definitely based in what's in the common interest. If an emperor (or a democratic society) makes a law demanding people give half their salary to cater to the uber-rich's comfort, while people lie starving in the street that could have been helped with that money, we'd all probably recognize that as an unjust law. Aquinas would go further and say it's no law at all, because it's not geared toward the natural purpose of law, which is justice and what's good for everyone, not just those making the laws.

It's an interesting idea but seems like it would be way too easy to abuse. There's too much danger in allowing people to decide individually that a certain law doesn't apply to them so they're under no obligation to obey it, and I think a society needs a way to collectively say, part of being a part of our group means working within certain rules, even if you disagree, and that if you don't like the law you need to work to change it not just disregard it. Aquinas himself doesn't actually allow for that, but if we're not all in agreement about what the common good actually is, I'm not sure how we keep moderns with our individualistic sympathies from pushing too far in that direction. I was also concerned it didn't give enough credence to individual rights in the face of what's good for the whole society.

I do like the fact it's tied to morality. My starting question was why we should make things illegal or legal if it's not because they're good or right. This side-steps all that by saying, that's exactly what the law's about. It's about identifying what's good and forcing people who weren't already going to act that way to do that. But then it ties us into that whole ethical project I'm sure a lot of people would like to avoid. Even if "good" is real and we can discover it, do I really trust my fellow citizens to all do the work of finding that out? How often do we agree what's in the common good, really?

Which is probably the biggest problem for me here. It's not that natural law is wrong, it's that it's not what we're trying to do in modern democracies when we make laws. In practice, I mean. Because natural law is about having an actual intelligence identifying what's good and making pronouncements based on that. There's an intellect at the heart of it; or perhaps a few intellects who are reasoning together. But democracy isn't about what some small group identified as right, it's about what ideas were popular enough to get the most votes, with no guarantees that voters are well-informed or acting on good motives. And it's about what lawmakers happen to be in a politically powerful position- all fairly random, unreasoned elements. And even with court cases, even at high level like the Supreme Court, they're less arguing about whether a certain law is just, and whether it contradicts some other law or precedent. The rightness of the law seems like such a small part of it. Maybe with international law where there are less adapted frameworks and more reasoning together based off rights, there's more room for this kind of effort. But at a national level, it just doesn't seem like the political process makes space for what natural law needs.

I will say this, though: I wanted to know more. Natural law was intriguing, and I liked the idea that not everything a person in power decrees as law has the force of law, even as that idea scared me. I'd like to read someone more modern explaining how natural law fits into a democracy. And for a short introduction, "tell me more" is high praise indeed, at least coming from me.

I do suspect my own political leanings are more in line with a kind of social contract we've all agreed to work with, rather than set of moral principles some philosopher-king has the right to identify and impose on the rest of us. Maybe there are certain things we have no right to agree to live under, that it's irrational to accept a social contract built around not having the right to do them anymore. Which makes me seem vaguely Kantian; something I never thought I'd say.

Ah, well. It will be interesting to see where the next chapters lead.

#political philosophy #legal philosophy #philosophy #aquinas #natural law #marta blathers #there is this natural incongruity between democracy and legal philosophies tied to actually getting at some sort of universal wisdom #and i for one would love to see someone try to square those systems with each other

[ungrateful-cyborg]

the babies : I-5 - III-13- IV-14 ; the Dads : IV-15 -III-3 - II-11- I7 ; The Waifus : III-9, II-10 ; The WOL : I-4 , III-14 ; The Cats : IV-8 ; II-15

What would their lives be like if they had never met?

Lian would still work on the docks, I'd imagine. So a more boring life, but one in which he also wouldn't be in as much trouble and wouldn't have to deal with the really of the adventurer's life.

A'idan would have asked someone else to come instead, but how it'd go would entirely depend on the that person. I'm not really sure he would have ended in less troubles, but I think he wouldn't feel as well supported as he feels right now. And also wouldn't know what being in love feels like like since Lian is his first love.

How do they make up after an argument? Who is the first one to apologize?

They're both simple guys who say what they mean and mean what they say. Their communication skills could be better but overall they understand each other well enough that miscommunication has little chance to end up in big and messy arguments.

And so far in FFXIV they never had any, big, small, messy or clean.

But I'd say that the first to apologize who probably be the first who put his thoughts in order (and, true to themselves, A'idan would be straightforward and Lian would half-compain while apologizing).

It'd be really emotional for both of them, however.

(Also asked by @anpansblog! TY)

Who is the one who always says "I don't know" when the other asks where they want to eat? 

Lian.

But he’d say “as you wish” rather than “I don’t know”.

A’idan is more the kind to respond with the very first (realistic) option that makes him hungry, and, if indecisive, the first thing he likes that he happens to see.

Who would drive, and who would give directions?

Skaar would drive and X’yan’d give the direction. Perhaps not 100% of the time but I feel like this would be their dynamic.

Who uses the cheesy pick-up lines, or does corny gestures? Who whispers inappropriate things in the other's ear in public?

I’m gonna answer these two together because...

Both of them. Depends on who feels in the mood and how inconvenient it is in the moment XD They’re little shits in their forties and totally unapologetic about it.

How do their friends and family feel about them as a couple?

At first they didn’t know, though to be fair before Skaar proposed in the middle of a mission, they were just friends with benefits.

Then the wedding happened and both Skaar’s parents and X’yan’s clan leader were like “Must you really marry the son/protégé of my rival?” (neither of them had shared their in-law names before and thus nobody had realized it before the big day. Both husbands found it funny in retrospect, though.)

They’re mostly over it now, especially since neither X’yan nor Skaar are in the pirate business anymore. So overall I’d say that both family and friends see their marriage positively, though the family gatherings are definitely lively.

What reminds them of each other? 

For Yersinia:

The weird grass from the Golmorre Jungle that Inge made them try once and that’s how they ended up getting married.

Books and papers lying around in a complete mess, because that’s often what happens when they want to get access to the bed and are a bit too hm... busy for carefulness.

The smells of alchemy, since Inge’s room double as a lab (it’s a “bedroom” only because it’s got a bed often hidden under a pile a books and parchments).

Alchemy and books and adventure in general, in fact, since most of her gifts for her wife are practical gifts related to one of those.

For Inge:

Pretty much the same, but also archeological stuff and ancient artefacts, especially if they’re related to Mhach since it’s Yersinia’s expertise. She often sends her trinkets and promising historical objects she finds on her travels.

What are their parallels, whether in their personalities or their histories?

They’re both active and driven women who don’t let the world, not even their loved ones, get in the way of what they want to achieve. Both of them have cut contact with their family to do what they wanted to do: but where Yersinia changed her name despite it not being a custom of her people, Inge didn’t when she should have.

While there’s a part of ambition in their choices, they also just both love mysteries and science and that really cemented their relationship past the initial attraction.

(They’re both sexy nerds that, at first, you wouldn’t think are nerds. But they are.)

Who kills the bugs in the house?

Probably Cathan. Not because Wolfe is afraid of insects (I mean, he graduated in Sharlayan studying botany. That would be unfortunate) but because, unless it’s a kind of insect dangerous for the structural integrity of his house, he knows they have their use and would rather put them outside or leave them be.

What is their most common argument about? 

"My name is Wolfe, not Wolfy.”

But it’s turning into a running joke between them at that point, much to Wolfe’s dismay.

Nah I would say almost everything because they’re idiots and while Wolfe is too honest and too direct, Cathan has mastered the art of somewhat saying the truth while looking like he’s lying. Something that riles up Wolfe, and Cathan takes too much pleasure getting on his nerves.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Yes and no.

They started catching feelings in Heavensward, during the road trip. Neither of them did anything about it. They had other priorities, and it seemed obvious to both that they needed to end their mission first before even thinking about it. They didn’t even discuss it, just entirely ignored their crush.

Then Haurchefant died, then Ysaile died, then Estinien was possessed and eventually, finally, they saved him and the war was over.

Estinien visited her before leaving, but too much had happened. She was grieving and he needed time to figure out what he wanted from life now. They agreed to just remain friends and give it time, cuddled for a few hours and he was off.

She knew were to find him, though. He wrote to her and she kept his location’s secret so well that nobody even thought to ask her about it. Not even Krile and Tataru before they went after him.

They didn’t meet though. Not even when he helped in Gyr Abania, though she suspected it was him. Not even after he saved her in the Ghimlyt Dark, and at first she was a bit disappointed he didn’t stay long enough to see her awake, but she knew why he did it. It still wasn’t the time, and he didn’t want to stand in her way and influence her decision.

Their next meeting actually happened more or less like in MSQ. They pretended they hadn’t had any news of each other, but they talked privately after the meeting. And decided, once again, that it wasn’t time yet. Not with an apocalypse on the horizon. Both are protective and they feared it’d influence their choices.

It lasted until the “You’re alone, good.” scene in Sharlayan. Estinien didn’t jump into the night through the window, not until the early morning at least. They spend the night together, and then went back to pretending they hadn’t in the morning.

When she almost died at the end of MSQ though, he refused to leave her side. And gil changed hands among the Scions, albeit far from their eyes XD

So they both tried to resist their feelings and at the same time not really. Just prioritized other things without being in denial about how they felt.

Who is more protective? Who would get into a fight to defend the other? Who tends to the other's wounds?

I’d say pretty equals in these matters.

Part of why they got along so well and so fast is because they’re both extremely intense when family is concerned. She understood why he was so consumed by revenge, despite not having lost her father herself. But while she didn’t lose him, she did pretty terrible things just out of fear her father would be killed. Just to keep him safe.

So yeah, they’d both fight for each other and tend to the other’s wounds, and I feel like now they’re finally together, they’ll start fighting more and more in tandem.

Thanks for the ask, Mioup!

#The More You Know #answered; A'idan #answered; Skaar #answered; Inge #answered; Wolfe #MSQ spoilers #answered; Aïcha #WoL verse