#filed under: rhetorical questions

[masonsystem]

how come ao3 wont let ppl advertise their commissions/ask for donations on their site on the basis of preventing legal issues w copyright, while they do the same thing (raising money on a site hosting millions of works that dubiously infringes copyright?)

#the real kicker is that a portion of the money is set aside for legality funds #which theoretically would be used to defend ppl who may ever get in trouble for linking comms/donations on their site #rhetorical question btw but also not rly #i get they can file it under non-profit whatever #but wont grace the same treatment towards their own userbase... mmhm

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Tell me how you hate me now (Miguel O’Hara x fem! Scientist! Reader) Drabble

Hiiii, so I know I said I’d focus on my main series and I am! But I just had to whip this up after my comment thread from my last post. In my head I imagine this being with Miguel from the game Edge of Time but it can be any Miguel variant. Not proofread, enjoy!

Cursing, workplace enemies to lovers, the girls are arguing 🤭, make out session, slight NSFW (just some ass squeezing) but no smut.

Word count: 750

Masterlist

—

“O’Hara! Hey O’Hara!” You called out to the figure that sat alone in the lab room. Your irrational only building when you didn’t get a response, not even a glance in your direction. Your pace quicken, white lab coat flaring out behind you as you close the gap between you and the other scientist. Angrily dropping a Manila folder onto his desk, the force of which made a few of his own papers fly a few inches off his desk. Finally making him look up at you with huff and a scowl.

You two have been working together for the last twelve years at Alchemax, and never had you two gotten alone. Always fighting about projects, butting heads about deadlines, everything about and between you both always ended with fighting and arguing.

“Do you know what this is?” The question was rhetorical, a manicured finger pointing at the file that had the name of your last project proposal printed on top. Your angry gaze on his face never wavering as you watch his tired eyes lazily drop to the folder, before looking up at you once more rather boredly.

“Your last project proposal?” He deadpanned.

“Yes, my last project proposal.” You scoffed, “The one that got rejected because you decided to bad mouth it to Stone.” You glared at him, feeling your blood pressure rising higher than it already was as you stood up straight and crossed your arms over your chest. Your eyes immediately connected with his brown ones as he turned his swivel chair to face you properly, arms coping your mannerisms as you both had a miniature stare down before he finally spoke.

“You're acting like this thing-“ he abruptly stood up, making you instinctively take a step back. Grabbing the proposal and using the back of his other hand to lightly hit the folder before dropping it back onto his desk. The pages spilling out from the hazardous manner, making your blood boil. “wasn't already garbage-“

“Garbage?!”

“Garbage.”

You had to close your eyes and take in a deep breath to stop yourself from lunging at the large man, wanting to tear him a new one. Once you were able to calm yourself down enough you looked back up at him. Despite his towering size over you, you didn’t find him all that intimidating.

“You’re just saying that because you wanted him to pick your project over mine-and don’t say I’m making shit up because you always do it, that’s how you got your project chosen last time!”

“Oh please, god forbid I don’t want to work under you for the next six months. It’s too chaotic! Just thinking about it gives me a migraine…” As if for dramatic effect, a hand goes up and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Oh yeah, because you’re so pleasant to be working for.” You rolled your eyes, sarcasm dripping from your mouth like venom from a snake’s. “If an intern so much as breathes the wrong way, you lose it.” You're too busy ranting to notice he was making his way towards you. “And don’t even get me started on how you micromanage everything-“

You were cut off by the sudden warmth of lips on yours, eyes wide as you blinked yourself back into the current moment. You had to be dreaming right? Why else would Miguel be kissing you. You didn’t even get to fully process the action before you felt his large hand slip to the small of your back, gently guiding you to make sure you didn’t trip over your own feet as he pushed you up against the wall.

Yeah you weren’t dreaming.

He licks your bottom lip in a silent plea to let him in, you couldn’t help but to melt into the kiss. Once the initial shock finally wore off, your body began to feel hot all over. Eyes flickering shut as your hands landed on his chest, running up to lock around his neck, no doubt leaving wrinkles in their wake. His hand came down to give your ass a firm squeeze, making you involuntarily moan at the movement.

You felt like you could drown in him, he pulled away for air before you got the chance too.

“Been wanting to kiss that pretty mouth shut for a long time.” He admitted between heavy breaths, “tell me how you hate me now with my tongue down your throat.” He taunted playfully, before closing the gap between your lips once more.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #miguel fanfic #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara drabble #spiderman 2099 drabble

[virescent-v]

Except Me?

A/N: Happy Saturday morning!! ;) Back with another smutty Emily x fem!reader fic. Enjoy :P Warnings: Honestly, if you've read my stuff before, same apply lol. Word Count: 2080

“Is everybody around here getting laid except me?” 

“Well, I’m not,” Rossi had said. 

You just stood there frozen. 

Because while the statement itself was rhetorical, you definitely weren’t thinking that way.

But now you were thinking about getting laid. 

With a certain unit chief. 

So that everyone around here was getting laid. 

Of course, Emily had no idea that you’ve been harboring a crush on her since your arrival to the BAU over three months ago. You’d heard of the infamous Emily Prentiss and the legendary things her team did. You worked your ass off to get your spot on the team and, while you didn’t want to fuck it up, you certainly wanted to fuck. 

You avoided eye contact with everyone that was standing there, not wanting the profilers to catch a glimpse of the rising heat on your cheeks. You quietly excused yourself and made a beeline for the bathrooms. 

“What’s gotten into her?” Rossi asked. 

Emily and JJ shared a look; JJ’s slightly more concerned, while Emily’s was one of curiosity. 

“I don’t know. Maybe she didn’t feel comfortable with all of the talk about getting laid?” JJ asked, twirling the ring on her finger. 

Emily’s head cocked a little to the side, considering. You hadn’t seemed like the prudish type, but she really didn’t know you too well, seeing as you’d only been here a few months and she was your boss. She made a mental note to check in on you in a little bit, seeing as she had never seen you run off from a conversation before. 

The conversation had lulled and everyone had moved their separate ways, Emily heading straight for her office. After a bit of time, she glanced up from her desk, gazed out into the bullpen. She could see you from her office, especially since you were the only one currently around, the only one at your desk. You had some files open on your desk, but you weren’t working on any of them. You were fidgeting; your knee was bouncing like you were anxious and you were playing with the pen you were supposed to be writing with. Emily had never seen you so distracted before. 

Making a quick decision, she stood up, walked to her office door. “Hey,” she said, grabbing your attention immediately, breaking the silence surrounding you. “My office, now, please.” 

You looked at her, an almost panicked look on your face. Interesting, Emily thought. 

You made your way into her office. “Shut the door behind you,” Emily said. 

You could feel your heart rate increase. Like you had just been called into the principal’s office. You made your way across the room, sitting yourself in the chair across from her desk. You were fidgeting even more with the cuffs on your blazer, trying your hardest to not make eye contact with Emily. You knew that she had no idea what was going on and if you could just control yourself a little bit more, you probably wouldn’t even be in here with your boss obviously profiling you. 

You could feel Emily’s eyes watching you, tracking your every movement. While the BAU tried very hard to not profile each other, you knew that with your behavior you were likely being observed. 

Emily let you sit and stew for a few moments, watching you. She had never seen you act so…anxious. And while she knew that part of that was from being called into her office, there was obviously something else going on. “What’s going on?” 

Your eyes shot up to hers. She looked so beautiful. Concerned, but curious. You could see yourself slipping under their spell, like you should just say what was going on. But you held yourself back. “Nothing. Just, uh…just feeling a little, um, anxious today, I guess.” Even your voice was shaky. You could hardly keep eye contact with her while talking. You knew all of Emily’s profiler alarms were going off. You just hoped she didn’t ask too many more questions. 

“You were fine this morning until our conversation in the hallway. Is your anxiousness right now about that?” She asked. 

Your eyes darted toward the right. “No,” you said unconvincingly, your voice managing to crack on the single syllable. You almost scoffed at yourself. You needed to get it together before Emily caught on even more than she already had. 

Emily’s head tilted, watching you now with narrow eyes. “Try answering that again, but a bit more convincingly,” she teased. 

You glanced up under your eyelashes at Emily, trying to figure out what was going on. She sounded like she was just teasing you, not having figured out what was really going on with you yet. 

“I could tell that our conversation made you uncomfortable. You all but ran off to the bathroom. I’m sorry if it was too much,” Emily stated, her hands folded neatly in front of her, resting on her thighs. Her well toned, strong thighs that you just wanted wrapped around your head. 

Shit, I’ve got to stop or she’s going to be able to read me like an open book, you thought. You cleared your throat, feeling another wave of heat rush to your cheeks. 

Emily smirked to herself. She had watched your eyes linger on her hands, drift around her thighs, before registering what you were doing, snapping yourself back to reality. Interesting, she thought. 

Emily decided to see if her suspicions were right - if you were harboring something for her, even if it was just lustful thoughts. 

She got up from her chair and basically stalked around her desk, stopping in front of you with her hands on her hips. You refused to meet her eyes, keeping them on her shoes in front of you, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 

Emily didn’t say anything, just watching you squirm in front of her for a few minutes. 

When she didn’t speak, you pulled your face up, your gaze immediately connecting with Emily’s. 

“Did it make you feel some type of way when I said I wasn’t getting laid?” She asked. 

You almost choked on air, coughing slightly to recover. “Wh-what?” You couldn’t believe she would just ask straight out like that and now you were worried she was catching on. 

Emily tilted her head, her eyes scanning your face. “How did you feel earlier when I said I wasn’t getting fucked?” 

Your breath stuttered, an immediate flush taking over your face and upper chest. 

Emily had to hold back the smirk that was threatening to take over as she watched your eyes dilate almost to the point of black. She leaned forward placing both of her hands on the arms of the chair you were sitting in, her face so close to yours that it felt like you were about to go cross-eyed. This close, you could smell her earthy perfume, feel her breath against your lips. 

You had to hold yourself back from launching forward and capturing her lips with yours. 

“Do you want to be the one to change that?” Emily asked, her hand coming up to your face, her thumb tracing over your lower lip. “Do you want to be the one to finally make me cum on fingers that aren’t my own?” 

“Christ, Emily-” you started. 

“Yes or no, pretty girl.” 

You took her thumb into your mouth, your tongue tracing around it once, twice, before letting it pop out. “Fuck yes.” 

Emily finally let the smirk cross her features. “Then on your knees, angel. I want to cum all over that pretty little face of yours.” 

You’ve never gotten out of a chair so fast in your life, the sound of your knees hitting the floor almost echoing in the small office. You reached up to Emily’s waistband, eager to undo her pants to finally get a taste for what you’ve been thinking about for months. 

But Emily’s hands smacked yours away. “Uh huh, where are your manners?” 

Sitting back on your knees, you glanced up at Emily from under your lashes, giving her your best pout. “Please, ma’am, can I taste your pussy?” 

Emily wanted to roll her eyes at your little display, but she found herself getting turned on by how eager you were to please her. “Take your shirt and bra off first. I want to see more of you.” 

You didn’t hesitate. It didn’t even cross your mind that you were at work, in Emily’s office, that she was your boss. All you could think about was getting to be the one to make her cum. 

You whipped your shirt off, throwing it across the room, your bra following after. You watched as Emily licked her lips as she started to undo her own pants, pulling her panties down too. “You’re so beautiful, angel. Once I cum enough to statiate me, I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.” 

Your eyes tracked her panties going down her legs, the ones you couldn’t stop staring at earlier. As they got kicked to the side, your gaze traveled back up her delicious legs and zeroed in on her already wet cunt. You let out a little whimper at the moisture you saw waiting for you. “Please, Em, can I?” You asked, never taking your eyes off of the prize in front of you. 

Emily’s hand found its way into your hair, holding it back off of your face. “Make me cum, pretty girl.” 

You moaned indecently at the first tangy taste of her on your tongue, your eyes rolling back into your head. Your hands gripped her thighs, keeping them apart as your mouth went to work. You took your time exploring her, getting to know what kind of movements she liked, what made her hips twitch, what made her grip in your hair get a little tighter, slowly building her up. 

By the time your tongue focused on Emily’s swollen, throbbing clit, you could hear her panting above you, her hips gyrating to a beat that pushed her closer to the edge. 

You alternated between tight, little circles around her clit and broad strokes up and down that made Emily’s breath stutter in her chest. You could tell that she was trying her best to hold back the noises she so desperately wanted to make. You hoped to hear them soon. 

“I’m so close,” Emily breathed out. “Make me cum, make me cum,” she whispered, both hands finding their way into your hair, guiding your face to her clit. “Put your fingers in me now.” 

You knew better than to test her patience; you could almost taste how close she was. You wasted no time, easily sliding two of your fingers into her dripping core. 

Moaning into her cunt at how warm and wet she was, you started a brutal pace, curling your fingers so with each thrust they hit against her sweet spot. Within a few plunges of your fingers, you could feel Emily’s thighs begin to shake, her inner walls tightening down as if trying to keep you inside. 

“Ungh, fu-fuck, I’m gon-gonna cum,” Emily whimpered. 

With one final thrust in, you focused on pushing against her g-spot in a pulsating motion, your tongue flicking fast and hard against her clit. You moaned against her, the added vibrations sending her over the edge. 

One of Emily’s hands gripped tighter in your hair while the other clamped over her own mouth to muffle her moans. You continued to fuck her through her orgasm, making sure she got the most pleasure. 

As she finally came down fully, you slowly removed your fingers and mouth, not wanting to make her too sensitive. 

You slipped your fingers into your own mouth, your tongue wrapping around them and sucking them clean, appreciating the taste of her. 

“Fuck,” Emily said, looking down at you. “You busy after work?” 

You threw your head back a little chuckling. “Whaddya know, my schedule just opened up.” 

Emily smiled, helping you up from your position on the floor. Her hand started caressing your hip, slowly making their way up your chest, circling each nipple before wrapping her hand around your throat. “Good, I have plans for you that involve you cumming all over my cock. Sound good?” 

You whimpered before hungrily nodding your head. 

Emily’s eyes darkened, a devious smirk replacing her earlier easy smile. “I’ll see you at seven at my place, pretty girl. Don’t be late.” 

“Yes, ma’am.”  

#virescent v fanfic #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss x reader #no use of y/n #fem reader #emily prentiss x you #idk i could probably make a pt 2 if people wanted to see what happens after work #if theres errors ignore them ive been up all night lmfao

[starlightsalvatore]

ripper / damon salvatore x reader

this was inspired by this blog post !!! idk if this is really what you wanted but this is where the spirit moved me lol - I hope everyone enjoys! as always lmk what you think!

ripper / damon salvatore x reader

summary: Stefan flipped his switch and you and Damon have been trying your hardest to bring him home... but Stefan has other ideas.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: typical tvdu stuff (blood, fear, pain, etc)

“Goodnight, Linda! I’ll see you next week,” you called out as you pushed the door to the boutique open, letting it shut behind you as you crossed the street to find your car. Your mind was swimming with unanswered questions, things in Mystic Falls had been topsy-turvy since Stefan flipped his switch and skipped town with Klaus. You and Damon had been hunting down every lead while keeping it from Elena, encouraging her to move on while the two of you ignored your own hypocrisy as you refused to do the same. On top of every dead end or trip down south to cover up the carnage Stefan left in his wake there was something brewing just beneath the surface with Damon the two of you were refusing to acknowledge. It wasn’t the time, there was too much on your plates but it didn’t stop the tension that seeped into every late night you spent with him poring over files Sheriff Forbes had given you.

You unlocked your car as it came into view, listening to the chirps echo down the empty street but stopped in your tracks when a figure appeared before you, “Stefan?” you asked, hope filling your voice but it faded just as soon as it had appeared when you looked into his eyes… so cold and dark, unlike the ones you’d come to know. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you.”

“I know,” he answered, “I’m here to tell you to stop.”

“Come on, Stefan… let us help you, I can help you,” you pleaded and he just chuckled darkly. He was someone you used to trust implicitly, he’d saved you from sudden death time and time again, taken you in and given you a home when Klaus had killed your parents to prove a point but this was not the Stefan you knew. 

“You can help me, sweetheart,” he said, fingers trailing along your collarbone and you felt sick to your stomach at his touch. “God, have I been dying to know what you taste like,” he muttered mostly to himself. You thought about running, but it was pointless… you thought about screaming for help, but he’d just kill whoever showed up… Damon. Damon was at the grill, just a handful of yards away. “So many nights hearing that heartbeat just down the hallway, like a siren call. How stupid was I to resist?” he asked rhetorically and while his attention was focused on the pulsing of your neck you slowly pulled your phone from your back pocket, dialing Damon’s number and praying to whatever god was listening that you didn’t hit the wrong buttons.

“So, what’s the plan, Stefan? Just going to kill me right here in front of the grill?” you asked, voice wavering as you tried to stall him. “Who are you trying to send a message to? Damon? Elena?” He growled in response.

“Maybe the message is for you,” he said, hand closing around your throat. “Did you think I wouldn’t know you’ve been helping him? That it wasn’t you who’s been covering my tracks?” he asked but you couldn’t answer. His hand disappeared and you sucked in a breath only to let out a cry of pain as he gripped your wrist, pulling your phone into view before he pried it out and you felt your bones crack under the pressure as he tossed it aside. “Stupid girl, are you trying to make this easier on me?”

“So this is hard for you?” you asked, clinging onto that as you took a step back and tried to ignore the pain in your wrist. “Good, lean into it. You don’t want to kill me, even with your humanity off you can’t tell me you don’t miss the fun we used to have together… dancing with Lexi to Bon Jovi, crushing Elena and Jeremy at pool…” you trailed off, trying to spark something in him. “Just, come home, Stefan. Let me help you, everything can go back to how it was.”

“Yes, I really do, because the real fun is what I’ve been denying myself all this time.” he sneered and you felt a gush of wind behind you.

“Whoa brother, just take it easy,” you heard Damon say and suddenly you were flipped around with your back pressed against Stefan, his arm a vice grip around your waist as his other hand held onto your throat. 

“You really should have stopped looking for me,” Stefan growled as you squirmed in his grasp, pain radiating through your arm as you struggled for air. “I don’t want to be found.”

“Yet you came all this way to Mystic Falls, to the middle of the town square. That doesn’t scream don’t find me,” Damon pointed out, taking a step closer but he stopped in his tracks when you let out a cry as the grip around you tightened. Damon could hear your heart thudding against your ribcage, quick and uneven as your eyes pleaded with him to do something. 

“Had to deliver a message,” Stefan responded. “But now that I’m here, she is a lot of fun, isn’t she, brother? Always was so brave, even in the face of death,” he chuckled as he brushed your hair from your neck. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it,” he taunted. 

“Just let her go, we can talk this out… come to an understanding,” Damon said, slowly taking another step. He’d never felt so helpless, like control was slipping through his fingers like sand.

“Oh, I’m not in the mood for talking,” he replied and you felt his lips kiss along your carotid artery and you stiffened in his grasp before thrashing against him. “So responsive,” he chuckled and anger flared in Damon’s chest at the sight. “Come on, Damon… all this time you’ve been pushing me to have more fun, now you want to stop me?”

“You want real fun? You’re not going to find it here in Mystic Falls,” he said, gesturing to the empty town around him. “Let’s go on a good old fashioned brotherly road trip, find some girls that actually enjoy being fed on,” he said, and you didn’t miss the desperation in his voice as you tried to calm your breathing and focus on anything other than the ache throbbing in your wrist. Stefan wasn’t swayed and you let out a pained cry as his fangs sunk into your neck, opening you up as he drank you in and you struggled in his arms.

“Stefan- don’t,” you choked out, fighting against him. Your words came out strained as blood poured from your neck and you felt tears slipping down your cheeks. “Elena will… she’ll never forgive you.”

“She’s right, brother. Just let her go, we can make this all go away,” Damon pleaded and he knew you didn’t have much time before he ripped your head off. You were already starting to go limp in his arms and Damon’s eyes were apologetic as he looked at you but you didn’t have enough time to process what it meant before you were flying through the air and hitting the ground with a thud that winded you. You groaned as you lifted your arms to press against the wound in your neck, each nerve ending protesting with a fiery jolt of pain as you tried to control the bleeding.

You couldn’t see anything, couldn’t move… all you could hear was a crack in the distance as your eyes fluttered closed before you felt your body being tugged upright. “Come on, drink…” Damon said, shaking you softly and when you didn’t respond he shook you harder. “You don’t get to do this, damn it! Drink,” he said again and your eyes opened as you wrapped your lips around his wrist, letting the sickly sweet liquid slide down your throat. You were alone again, vaguely making out Damon on the phone with somebody before you lost consciousness. 

“Hey, hey, easy, you’re safe now,” you heard as you sat up in bed, startled as your eyes darted around and you saw you were back in your room at the boarding house. Damon was looking down at you intensely as tried to ease you into laying back down but you just shook your head.

“Where is he?” you asked frantically, “please tell me we didn’t lose him.”

“He’s in the cellar,” he answered. You let yourself relax a little at this, knowing the hope you’d been clinging to all summer seemed a little more realistic now. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered and your face twisted in confusion. “This is all my fault.”

“What? Damon, this isn’t your fault,” you tried but he just shook his head.

“He knew the way to get to me was through you, I shouldn’t… he didn’t want to be found, I shouldn’t have pushed,” he said and your eyes softened as you took him in. He looked exhausted and the faint light peeking around your curtains let you know he must have been waiting a while for you to wake up. 

“He knew I was helping you, this was as much a message for you as it was for me,” you replied. “I’ll be okay.”

“But you’re not right now,” he said and you smiled sadly.

“But I will be,” you reassured, “nobody said bringing a ripper back from the depths of inhumanity would be easy.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated and you just wrapped your arms around him, letting yourself move to straddle his hips to pull him closer into you. “You don’t deserve this, I… I should have protected you better. I can’t lose you,” he muttered into your chest as his arms snaked around your waist and held you tight.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said and he pulled back to look up at you, eyes swimming with emotion. 

“You… you mean too much to me,” he said, fingers brushing your hair behind your ear before cupping your jaw. “I can’t lose you,” he repeated.

“And you won’t,” you promised, eyes sad as you knew this wasn’t really a promise you could keep, but you would try… for him. You let your fingers thread through his hair as you held him close, needing the comfort right now as much as he did. Putting on a brave face was what you were good at, you seemed to face a new evil every week in this town but this was different… This was Stefan, one of your closest friends who used you to prove a point, who made it look so easy to bring you within an inch of your life. You needed Damon as much as he needed you and with someone downstairs locked in a cell who was so important to the both of you, you didn’t have any fight left in you to pretend you didn’t need him.

“I love you,” he muttered against your skin and your heart skipped a beat, wondering if you’d heard him correctly. “I won’t let him hurt you ever again, I’m so sorry.” You shifted, leaning back to look down at him and those intense blue eyes held so much emotion you felt your heart crack wide open.

“Damon-” you started but he cut you off by cupping your face and pulling you down to meet his lips. You responded immediately, letting your lips move in tandem with his before pulling back breathless.

“I love you,” he repeated as you rested your forehead against his. 

“I love you too,” you responded, letting yourself smile genuinely for the first time all summer. “We’re going to get your brother back, okay? We’ll get him back and everything will be okay.”

taglist: @caseysalvatore @minalblood @styxfly (if you’re name is struck through it means I couldn’t tag you - sorry!)

tagging you because you inspired this one! @tmhxll​ 

#damon salvatore #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore x you #damon salvatore x y/n #damon salvatore fluff #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon salvatore fan fiction #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fan fiction #the vampire diaries fanfiction

[wantonlywindswept]

adopted baby Guard Din idea that I am never going to write

because it would involve logistics and quiet moments and idle life which I am very down for reading but cannot for the LIFE of me actually sit down and write

So the war ends, Palps is outed as a Sith and an asshole and dies somehow, and the Senate eventually decides that the clones do count as people and thus are allowed to leave the GAR if they want. Give the bureaucrats another few years and they might even give out backpay and citizenship, so long as you stay in the service--wait what do you mean the entire Guard is resigning. What do you mean they've already left orbit?? WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE ARE NOW MILLIONS OF FILES ON THE HOLONET ABOUT THE SENATE'S SHADY DEALINGS???

Guard, collectively: lol cya suckers

Fox is of course one of the last ones out, and since this was all planned on the down low, everyone's been split into groups so they can take commercial flights, since they're not about to be accused of stealing ships. (They also leave their weapons and their armor behind, in a giant macabre pile in the middle of Corrie HQ. Even their helmets, their faces, they discard: it's time for a rebirth.)

He and Thorn and a few other Corries have a stopover on some tiny station, waiting a week for a delayed transport to arrive, and in the meantime they're approached by some locals who just fled the planet below. Separatist remnants attacked their homes, forcing them to leave everything and everyone behind; can the big strong clones do anything about it?

The Big Strong Clones: Oh shit we finally get to kick some Seppie ass? Sign us the FUCK up.

The eager group does not include Fox, who could not care less about the Separatists and would very much like to finally catch up on his sleep. Unfortunately that means that the group that goes down to the planet is Unsupervised.

(Thorn does not count as supervision. Thorn, bereft of Senate oversight, has finally allowed his Inner Chaos Gremlin to fully emerge. Thorn needs more supervision than the shinies.)

Thorn, three days later, waking Fox from half-hearted sleep by dropping an entire natborn child on him: Hey boss, look what we found! None of the refugees claimed him, so we called dibs. Can we keep him? Fox, staring at the child: ...

Din, staring back: ...

Fox: ...no..?

Din: *sad but understanding big brown eyes*

Fox: Nevermind this is my child now.

Din has gone from two parents to one parent and hundreds of overprotective brothers.

Eventually his group makes it to their destination, Din in tow. I am uncertain of what the destination is but it is a planet that is as far away from Coruscant that the Corries could find. I am tempted for Tatooine not because I like Tatooine (I share Anakin's loathing of sand and deserts) but because Luke's description of Tatooine in ANH was 'if there's a bright center to the universe, this is the planet the furthest from'. 

Corries, hearing that: Fuck it sounds perfect. 

Anyway they make it to Tatooine, there is probably purchasing of some shitty land/buildings that nobody wants out in the wastes bc crime, scum, villainy, etc, but it's not like they have problems taking care of anything that tries to mess with them. 

Where did they get the funds?

Shh don't ask about it.

Stone takes up moisture farming. Thire takes up farming-farming. Thorn shoots gleefully at anything that shows up unannounced within a ten-mile radius. Literally everybody dotes on Din. There are a surprising amount of peaceful days.

Eventually some dumb shiny goes: Hey don't kids need friends? Shouldn't we set up some playdates for him or something?

The shiny is not called dumb for asking the question, but they are called dumb for thinking that the question would only ever be taken rhetorically. Fox disappears for two weeks and then comes back with a black eye and a yowling hissing Boba tucked under one arm, looking stupidly pleased with himself.

(Boba is also pleased to be back with people he knows will keep him safe. Boba will not admit to this under threat of death or dismemberment. Boba is a SERIOUS SCARY ADULT BOUNTY HUNTER.)

Boba also decides he will be Mortal Enemies with Din, which after about ten minutes of meeting him morphs into If Anyone Hurts Din I Will Kill Everyone In This Room And Then Myself because all clones be the same, really.

Din has gained another brother/bestie. (Or potential future boyfriend, whichever floats your boat.)

Somehow they still end up overthrowing the Hutts.

Officially the GAR knew and knows nothing about the Guard leaving Coruscant as soon as the metaphorical paint was dry on their sentient status.

Unofficially Fox's batch harangues him every single day for photos of his new kid(s). They eventually show up unannounced, demanding time with their nephew. (They are shot at by Thorn.)

Din gains five new uncles.

The batch proudly show pics and holos to their battalions. Din gains millions of new uncles.

Fox finally gets a full night's sleep.

#tcw #tcw fanfiction #commander fox #din djarin #coruscant guard #someone else should write that #tho tbh it's mostly written here just in rambling infodump form #btw this is half-inspired bc red is both baby din and fox's color #din is nonverbal for a little while because Trauma #and gets nicknamed 'Kit' #Fox refuses to be pleased about this #Fox is extremely smugly pleased about this

[rysko]

Kings of Spades - Part 1 l Luca Changretta x M!OC

Series Summary: They haven't met in...ideal circumstances. Yes, that's what Juliusz would call getting hit in the head and awakening strapped to a chair, beaten to a pulp, only to see a pompous douchebag of an italian in front of him, speaking something of a "deal." Arriving in Birmingham, Luca Changretta was confident as ever in making sure the Shelbys pay for his families murder. Turns out, things are going to get very complicated. As a bright and cunning lawyer working for the Brummie gang makes him lose something he hasn't lost in a long while...focus.

Warnings: none except your typical Peaky mild violence and swearing

NEXT CHAPTER

A/N: Hiya! This is my first time posting any writing on Tumblr, so bear with me xD Anyways, enjoy this silly self indulgent thing, i'll appreciate any feedback greatly.

Grease, the smell of tobacco, the metallic taste of blood still on his tongue and teeth. Sensations of taste and smell came back all at once when Juliusz slowly regained consciousness. Through half-opened eyelids, he saw blurred figures in front of him, two in the back, one very close. He could work out a general shape and some colours, a tall frame and dark clothing, something that looks like a hand coming towards him. When he feels a few gentle slaps on his cheek Juliusz only groans, still not used to consciousness, he feels the cuts and bruises all over his aching body.

Then, his sense of hearing came back.

"Well, I've tried all I can." A sarcastic and lazy drawl came from the closest figure. "Wake him up, will ya?"

The hard slap echoed through the room, tossing Juliusz's head to the side, his ears ringing and face burning as he cursed loudly. He opened his eyes fully, only to finally see a face attached to the voice from before. Juliusz tried hard to put together who this time wanted to kick his teeth in. Slicked back dark hair, an unusual lack of a cigarette, in its place a toothpick, a truly nice suit, looking at how it's cut, Italian sewn perhaps? His train of thought was halted when the man spoke up.

"There he is!" The stranger exclaimed, almost as if he was seeing a colleague he hadn't seen in a while. "My men roughed you up good, huh?" He grinned, the toothpick now bit down between his teeth. It seemed more of a rhetorical question, really.

Oh, of course. Of-fucking course it's the Italians. Ever since they slipped a black hand in Juliusz's briefcase on Christmas, and as he later found out, to everyone associated closely with the Shelbys, Luca Changretta, and his mob have been waiting to get someone besides John on their trophy wall. No wonder Thomas wanted to get the Shelby lawyer better security. Juliusz foolishly declined, thinking he didn't need a few extra Brummies running around him. God, he thought he was being careful when he stayed late hours working in the Shelby Company Limited office. Just leaving the building, he thought about the black hand he still kept in the briefcase among the many files he worked with, when he heard someone running up and then-...Then he woke up here. Alas, now isn't the time to think how you stepped in shit, now it's time to think how you're going to step out of it. Juliusz said nothing yet, patiently waiting for the Italian to continue.

Changretta circled the chair, looking down at his prisoner.

"Tell me, how come a hired lawyer gets so close to the Shelby inner circle?" Juliusz feels almost studied under his glare, as the Italian finally takes out and throws away his toothpick somewhere in the corner.  The lawyer feels stuck, even more mentally than physically.  How much does Changretta know? What exactly does he want to know? What exactly is Juliusz allowed to disclose to save his skin? Knowing Tommy, it's most probably nothing. A bluff seems like the best approach for now.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir." He begins, trying to sound more confused and frightened, more like a civilian. "I'm just a simple lawyer, I do their dirty work in court, that's all."

This only gets a chuckle out of Changretta, who nods and muses as if he really is considering what Juliusz said.

"You know, my family worked with a bozo like you, a lawyer who wanted to earn some extra cash on the side. Turns out it's easier to just bribe a judge. A lawyer always knows too much, gets into everyone's business, it's too risky in this line of work." He steps in front of Juliusz's chair again and squats down to meet him at eye level. "But you probably know that, because a little birdie told me that you do more than lawyering for these vermin. You must know a whole lot, Mr. Fe...Feh..." His monologue is cut short by linguistic difficulties.

"Ferenz." He cuts the Italian off. His facade of "confused civilian" is left behind. He raises his head and sits up straighter, almost as if he wasn't just beaten and kidnapped, but on a very strange business meeting.

"That's it." Changretta nods, then averts his gaze as if in thought. "Polish, right?" He snaps back, god, now Juliusz does feel like on a business meeting.

"Yes, though I can imagine you knew that already." 

"Eh, lucky guess, my boys thought you were Russian or something. I didn't have your file on hand." He shrugs and Juliusz could swear he saw one Italian give another a clip of money behind their backs. "So, a glasses-wearing Poindexter, suspected commie, and a polack to add. Tommy Shelby sure likes to keep odd company." His shit-eating grin is infuriating, between that and the complete power he had in this conversation, Juliusz felt humiliated, his wit and way with words could always keep up with people like Thomas, but now he feels like every syllable he wants to say is stuck in his throat, piercing and scratching with dryness.

"Ask him about that yourself. I'm of no use to you." He finally let out.

"You should give yourself more credit." Changretta pointed his index finger lazily in Juliusz's direction.

"No no, I give myself enough credit, thank you." He chuckled, then kept on a serious face as he continued. "I mean that I'm of no use to you because I won't tell you anything."

It seems Changretta was anticipating that answer, a heavy silence fell between the two men. Juliusz noticed that Changretta lost the grin from before, replaced with a furrow on his brow and a scowl on his lips. The elegant hotel room they were in felt suffocating, he didn't know if an hour passed, or maybe just a few seconds when the Italian leaned slightly forward.

"You're saying that as if you have a choice." Changretta was looking at an unspecified area on the floor when he spoke instead of looking at Juliusz, then, he finally looked up at him. "We both know you're not dying for them." The slightest of smiles graced the Italian lips, Changretta had him, and was waiting for an answer.

"Fuck you." Juliusz spat. He felt as if his blood was boiling under his skin, there had to be a way to fix this, he needed to speak to Thomas or Polly if he'd ever get the chance to again. God, Changretta's right though, Juliusz likes Thomas, and his family even more, but even if he died for them withholding information, the Italians won't stop until Tommy Shelby has suffered enough.

"Name a price." Changretta halted Juliusz's train of thought yet again.

"What?"

"Name. A. Price. For your..." He repeated. "law services." A lazy hand gesture exaggerated the point Changretta was making.

"What could you give me?" Juliusz leans back in his chair, still trying to regain at least some composure.

"For your help putting Tommy Shelby out of his misery..." He speaks clearer, the lazy New York drawl less noticeable. "...anything you want." Changretta says the words in a half-whisper, almost like a hushed promise.

The lawyer's mind wanders to his wants, and needs, sure, he could wish for an obscene amount of money or power, but he doesn't want any of that. It's too obvious if he wants to play along with Changretta until he finds a plan to get out of this. The best he can do for now, is to ensure at least some people's safety.

Juliusz finally closes his eyes and sighs deeply. "...Arthur Shelby, Michael Gray, and Ada Thorne. Spare them." He says firmly, his eyes could drill a hole through Changretta's as the Italian chuckled at his demand.

"You lot and your connections..." He turns to one of his goons and says something Juliusz can only assume is Italian.

"Well excuse me for having friends." He quips, eyeing the goon who came up to him and with a swift motion cut the ropes holding the lawyer.

"You're about to hand one over to be slaughtered, I wouldn't call you a good friend." he grins smugly at Juliusz.

"Good, because we're not friends." He doesn't look Changretta in the eye, all he does is rub his bloodied wrists in thought.

"For all it's worth, I'm sorry for staining your suit, Mr Julius." The Italian reaches and scrapes away a few dried pieces of blood, rubbing them between his fingers and turning them into a fine powder as a form of fidgeting.

"That's all you're sorry for?"

"It's a nice suit, though..." He muses for a second. "Not as nice as mine." He pulls on his suit to reveal the inside seams, which only makes Juliusz roll his eyes and scoff.

"For a man so well dressed you should know not to squat or kneel with your suit jacket buttoned. It's an Italian cut, the buttons are higher." He looks Luca up and down, seemingly unamused. It's all a distraction, in the end. Juliusz is scared out of his mind, and even more so, that Changretta will see through the teasing facade.

"I can afford a few popped buttons. You will too, after your work for me is done." Despite his dismissing words, Changretta stood up straightening his suit jacket.

"Why do you think you can trust me?" He tries his best to sound confident and stoic.

"I don't. I hope you won't put my trust and patience to the test though, hm?" Changretta studies Juliusz one last time before heading towards his desk.

'What do you need?" If he has to get to Tommy, he should tell him what Luca needs to carry out his plan.

"Go back to life as normal. Be their obedient little lawyer. Stay close to Shelby. I'll be in touch, friend." He grinned, and Juliusz never before wanted to kick someone so much in his life.

Seeing as the two guards now stood beside Juliusz, it was a cue to get out of there. He stood up, tidying himself up as much as possible, just as he wanted to turn around and leave, Changretta's voice stopped him.

"You forgot this, Ferenz." He removed Juliusz's briefcase from under his desk and extended it towards him. When Juliusz grabbed it, Changretta took a firm hold of the lawyer's wounded wrist, making him wince in pain. Luca inserted the black hand card between Ferenz's middle and ring fingers. "You still got eyes on you, remember that." he finally let go, returning his gaze to some papers on his desk. Juliusz swiftly took a few steps back and then turned around, heading out the door, his heartbeat up his throat and stomach sick.

Out the hotel door and onto the streets of London, Juliusz's head is spinning, he runs. Somewhere. Anywhere really. All he thinks of is John, and his corpse laid in the Birmingham morgue, filled with bullets. He thinks of Thomas, and what he'll say, or worse, do when he sees his lawyer the next time. He thinks of Arthur, god, what would he say? After what seems like an eternity, he stops and leans against an alley wall, promptly letting out whatever he had for supper yesterday, clenching his stomach. He falls onto his arse, weak from his wounds, dehydration, exhaustion, and an overload of emotions.

Juliusz leans his head against the brick wall.

Jesus, he needs to speak to Tommy.

#peaky blinders #luca changretta #luca changretta fanfic #luca changretta x oc #peaky blinders fanfic #ao3 #fanfic #Kings of Spades

[alexis-royce]

WIP game, (aka proof that I certainly don't finish everything that I start!)

I was tagged by: @the-dye-stained-socialite

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Please don't get too attached to any of these. Each one is equally likely to languish in draft purgatory or get made into a fully-fledged-whatever-it-is.

Grounds for Termination (Chrome and Prism)

Mostly text below the cut:

No Spoilers (Fallen London)

The third member of the book club had been uncharacteristically quiet. His pencil had been scribbling away for weeks now. Occasionally, Pages would demand to see what the man had been writing, wary of some kind of treacherous spy notation. But each time, his notebook was spun around, revealing a veritable sportsman’s notation of the conversation, complete with tally marks, denoting points. The Jovial Contrarian would flash an expression charitably known as “punchable,” before returning to his note-taking. Great rhetorical zugzwang did not come without effort and study, and if a man wanted to keep his edge, it was frightfully important to find and study such excellent examples.  Cards, at a glance, found themself exceptionally leery of the notation system employed by the contrarian, but before they were ever quite able to question it, some little spark of conversational fluff would waft by, reigniting their squabble with Pages, and more pressing matters would take prescience.

Mastery and the Marvellous (Fallen London)

“Stop that. Why are you rubbing your eye?” “I’m. Rubbing my eye?” She stammered. “I suppose-“ “Hypothetical. I know why you are doing this. Your hand. It vexes you.” “If my hand hurt, why would I rub-“ “Your hand of CARDS, Human.” “That hand’s fine, too-“ The movement was sudden, but there was no harshness in its tone. It stole the cards from The Disgraced Academic’s grip, and spread them out on the table. “Oi!” The Academic reached for them, but Pages shooed her away. “Do you want an afternoon’s amustraction, or do you want victory?”

Hiding an injury / betrayal / lying (Fallen London)

There was a long-running argument as to the exact shade violant most resembled. As a light, it was redder than blood. As a pigment, it was nearly indigo. But everyone who saw it agreed that the effect was much the same as spotting a running rivulet of blood from the stomach of a loved one. It commanded attention, to the distraction of all other things. The Ex-Disgraced Academic’s fingers trembled as they scraped violant eyeshadow from their compact, dragging it across their upper eyelid, and into the creek behind the bridge of their nose. They fanned it out, under their brow, nearly to their temple. It was a daring use of rouge, and frankly scandalous.  But it was exactly the sort of hue that would distract from the blossoming crimson stain oozing from their abdomen.

Dissociation (Deadly Premonition, HUGE spoilers)

First off, Zach could come to the front whenever he wanted, so it wasn’t a problem or anything. The white room was only a room in their dreams. When they were awake, it was more of the feeling of white, then anything else. A pull at the back of his skull, as though gravity shifted at the edge of his brain. But he didn’t have to stay back there or anything. When nobody was talking to them, he liked to strum on their base, or stitch new patches onto their jacket. He liked to get fancy with the stitches, and York was pretty encouraging about it. But the other guys made one crack about embroidery, and it took Zach four months to even pick up a needle again. Sure, he sometimes bumped into things while walking. But Zach was fine. He wasn’t trapped at all.

Experimentation / Muzzle / transformation (Jekyll & Hyde)

Pain hurts worse the more damage it does to you. For Henry John Albert Jekyll, transformation was excruciating. There simply wasn’t a way to reframe it as beneficial. Alchemy followed a process, and one of the first steps was the stripping of vice.  This position wasn’t meant to be anything beyond a simple Nigredo stage. The sloughing and burning of vice. It would have hurt, but it would have been a pain of catharsis. The bitter medicine fed to him in bed by a nurse. A scalding bath. The screaming voice of his father, correcting a shameful behavior. The mortification of flesh. But what was good and noble was being ripped from him. His patience, above all other things. Everything was louder as Hyde, everything was loud and impossible to abide, beer was richer and gin sweeter, the thighs of a woman were soft and the moans of men buttery.

The Outside, Chapter 4 (The Stanley Parable)

He went instead to the encyclopedias, pulled one down from the shelf, and then three more. Volumes 23-26. He opened two of them to random pages and left them open on the ground, then opened the other two, quickly turning pages one at a time. Lots of text, lots of images… THERE.  Two of the volumes were displaying identical page layouts. Two sets of articles on mangroves, not a single difference between the words and images. Volumes 24 and 26 had repeated content.  But when he flipped the books closed, both covers listed “Volume 25.” No…he’d been certain that he’d pulled four differently numbered books off the shelf. He checked the row again, and there, plain as day, was the untouched copy of Volume 26. If Stanley had attempted to relay this fact to another person, they’d likely tell him that he’d made a mistake. The library simply happened to have two copies of Volume 25. It was odd, sure, and bad luck that he’d managed to grab the one book that would trip him up. But those coincidences were more likely than…what? He was dreaming? His senses were handling input incorrectly ? The world around him was a poorly designed fabrication, scrambling to patch itself with limited content and memory allocation? Stanley’s fingers twitched.

Ash and Herbert Comic (Evil Dead, Re-Animator)

Panel 1 Ash, taking his pants off Ash: Hey short stuff I gotta thank you for doin’ me this solid Panel 2 Slumps down in a chair, boxers and hairy legs, kicks his feet up: Ash: I ran outta pharmacies after the S-Mart in Kalamazoo refused me service. Panel 3 Foreground, a syringe flicks bubbles, Ash prattles on in bg, full of a staggeringly self-assured confidence They say it was “because a horde of giggling demons ate the receptionist,” but I know transphobia when I see it.”

Charles Augustus Milverton Adaptation (Sherlock Holmes)

Watson later apologizes. “The very minute which my own blood cooled, I realized that I had committed upon you the same crime of which I had accused you. I was the cold one, not you. And I fear that it was not the young lady’s feelings which I’d been attempting to protect.”

Otto's Mind Design Docs (Psychonauts 2 Spoilers)

Lead Into Gold Roughs (Serialized Killer Spoilers)

Harold “Weird…is this some kind of accountability that isn’t based off fear?” — Maggie: Arrrrrgh Harry’s buzzing around in here telling me what to do.{w} Shut up I don’t take orders from ANYONE! Maggie: GRRAAAAAAHHHH! with vpunch Maggie: huff huff pause Maggie: Hawley, tell me what to do. — Harry "Well, DeLus was ACTUALLY locked in her basement by her father. There wasn't a lock on MY basement door. Show hawley sarcastic Hawley "Yeah, that's completely different." #Harry does not pick up on the sarcasm Harry "I've led a very fortunate and privileged life."

Hojojutsu (Lupin III)

Page 1 Zenigata is walking past a line of recruits, who are saluting. Narration: Inspector Zenigata Koichi is diligent, Zenigata continues to walk by, the word balloons follow him Narration: and hardworking, Zenigata continues to walk past the line of recruits Narration: And Tireless, One of the recruits, under his salute, grins. It’s Lupin. Narration: And A FOOL. Jigen Curse Comic Page Le Salle is a room that dwarfs the Mona Lisa, and how small it is in real life frequently disappoints people. Similarly, the man removing it is dwarfed by the space he fails to magnificently occupy. Rolling up the painting is Jigen Daisuke. Zenigata keeps his gun leveled. Balloon: Jeez, Pops, put that away before you hurt someone! The room is big, and there are only two men in it. Zenigata: Lupin? Come on out, and I’ll swap the gun for cuffs! Jigen, Mona Lisa in hand, brushes back his jacket, reaching for his gun. Jigen: You want me to take care of this? Page Zenigata’s confusion is making him upset. Balloon: Are you nuts? I’m already very mad you capped one guy, don’t push your luck! Under the brim of his hat, Jigen grins. He abandons his draw. Jigen: Whatever you say, Boss. Zenigata finally loses it. Balloon: Hmph, you only call me “Boss” when you’re upset- Zenigata: What the HELL’S goin’ on, here?! His grip is tight on the gun. Zenigata: Where the hell is Lupin? He bellows, in quite the action shot. Zenigata: Because that voice… ...ain’t him! Page Jigen stops for a moment, putting the Mona Lisa into a canvas tube. He slings it over his shoulder. Jigen: Well, that’s rude. Jigen begins to walk away. This conversation is built of linked speech bubbles. It’ll be a little confusing to read, but that’s okay. Zenigata is also confused. Jigen: You’d think he’d be happy to see his reason for living! I know, it’s been what, six months? Six months without a good chase! Must’ve been goin’ stir-crazy. Page The brim of Jigen’s hat tilts up, and a ray of moonlight passes over his face. He’s not doing well. The smile on his face is very Lupin-esque, wide eyed and energetic. But it sits poorly on this gunman. It doesn’t suit him, and with good reason. Jigen: That’s okay! I was itching for a heist, too!

High Protocol (NonPlatonic Forms)

“I can’t believe I shaved for this.” “Shut up, Liam.” Lee found it exceptionally rude that, almost as soon as he’d been able to speak again, he wasn’t allowed to use his voice anymore. “Yes, yes,” Niles worried at the cuffs of his jacket, and straightened his lapels, “an utter shame that the world won’t be graced with your croaky voice. However, the point is for you to be perceived as little as possible. If you draw attention to yourself, it will soundly defeat the point. Lee didn’t think that he was dressed to blend in. The suitjacket was immaculately tailored, and cut from a black-on-black brocade. He’d managed to slick his hair back into place, and he could see his face in his shoes. There was something satisfying about being dressed so elegantly. If you could pull off a look, it made you into a walking piece of art. Neat! But the collar was tight, the layers had already made him begin to sweat, and the shoes pinched at his toes and heels. Lee looked great, but it was a trade-off he wasn’t sure he’d be able to make for long. Niles began to fuss with Lee’s tie, now. Initially, he held tie after tie up to his neck, debating between endless shades of black, wrapping them around his collar in half and full Windsors. As his fingers brushed against Lee’s neck and chest, the sensation was more than enough to distract Lee from the pain in his heels. But the analogue method was too cumbersome for Niles, who quickly reverted to cheating. A snap of his fingers, and a new tie sprang about Lee’s collar. Another snap, another tie. Snap, snap, snap.

Gray Jacket Chapter 20 (Lupin III, and I do actually plan on finishing this one)

It wasn’t unheard of for them to bump into the same opponent once or twice, but over the past couple years, a young swordsman had kept popping up. A genuine, 20th-century samurai, hakama and katana in tow. Lupin had squarely beat him on all fronts, of course. Nobody was ever really any match for his own dazzling brilliance. But the Samurai had survived both encounters, and after a particularly lengthy little job plundering a pair of scrolls the samurai had been ordered to guard, the samurai had tried a new tactic. He’d shown up, barging straight into Lupin’s hideout, shoulders piled high with all his worldly possessions, determined to study, with Lupin as his new master. After all, Lupin had bested the samurai and his master, multiple times over. If he wanted to learn from ‘The Best,’ then it would be Lupin, and nobody else. At that moment, however, ‘The Best’ was plowing straight [OH NO THIS PART IS EXPLICIT], and the samurai’s declaration of intent to dedicate himself to Lupin’s tutelage was drowned out by an overcome moan of [YEAH YOU CAN'T SAY THAT IN CHURCH] and Lupin wasn’t in the habit of making artisan, single-sourced love if he had a looky-loo breathing down his neck. Across the room, Jigen turned the page of his newspaper. “The boss is busy. Come back later.”

Off the Cuff 2 (It's in the title)

"Ahhhhhh, {i}Christ.{/i}" "It’s my ex." "You ever been in one of those relationships that just consumes you from the inside?{w} You really, really know it’s a terrible idea, but that hardly helps.{w} You draw a line super early: clear, definite boundaries." "And then you realize that you’re both insanely fucked up, and neither of you has the same definition for what you’ve defined." "Why do I always find myself in these sorts of scenarios?{w} All I can do is sigh." "Nobody tells you that a 5\’2\" spitfire is going to be utterly irresistible to so many people. Hey, I try to warn them." "Too many folks out there touch-starved, I guess.{w} You pat them on the head once, and they think you’ve got an immortal, irreplaceable bond,{w} and then they drag you away to their laboratory where they just can't stop raising the dead, and you’ve got a whole 'nother issue to deal with." "Oh, well.{w} It do be like that sometimes."

Mecha Pilot Lee AU (NonPlatonic Forms)

The screen illuminated Lee's face. “Huh. That’s weird.” “What’s weird?” If she hadn't been a 15-meter mech, she could’ve been arching an eyebrow, for all her timbre implied. “Diagnostics were checking to see if you’d suffered data loss in the attack, but it’s the opposite. There’s new data in here.” Lee preemptively logged the finding analog-style, pulling out a notebook and copying down the file name.   “Oh, uh. Don’t open that.” She coughed. “That’s private.” Lee smirked. “Julia is not supposed to be saving personal files to your hardware, Channery. It’s a security issue.” “Where else is she supposed to save them? Come on, Lee! The enemy built me with barely any memory as it was! I know that I’m not supposed to be developing a history or memories, but you know better than I that I can’t accurately cross-reference them against any moral codes besides treasuring Julia!” “Oh. So it’s. Uh. Personal?” “Extremely.” Channery glowered. She couldn’t really fire her pulse charges at an ally, but her tone didn’t exactly encourage Lee to test it. “Channery, you know that I’m going to have to double-check this, right? I have to extract this and run it on a limited server. If it’s malicious…” “It’s not malicious! But it is, you know…” she hissed through her not-teeth, “…off-book pilot/apparatus bonding techniques.” “Any events that take place inside a cockpit are subject to government surveillance,” but Lee groaned as he said it. Julia and Channery weren’t the first pair to commit ‘off-book activities,’ and they wouldn’t be the last. It wasn’t even an illegal activity, so long as you were the only pilot assigned to the mech in question. But some pilots looked at the memory reserves in the mech’s hard drive, and figured that, so long as the AI was going to be adding the occasional movie, song or mission footage to its memory banks, there was space in there for their own precious memories of hanky-panky.  Fucking the mech wasn’t illegal. But saving your own unapproved files to the hard drive was.

And last but not least, from the 51k nanowrimo version of Lead Into Gold:

20th of Mid-Autumn, 1905 My one and only, You are quite right. I meant to write you a love letter, but instead, wound myself up in fears and concerns for myself. This next letter must scoop you up into my arms, and submerge us both into the warm comfort of my adoration. I miss you dreadfully; during the days there is my research to keep me company, but it is a cruel friend that runs me ragged and leaves me empty. I’ve grown accustomed to welcoming you to dinner every night, and have been considering hiring a cook, if research continues to go well. It is not fashionable to have servants, as the aristos in other cities do, but the hiring of a weekly maid is quite normal, and has worked well for me. I have kept her from touching the guest room- which is quickly taking place in my mind as ‘Hawley’s Room’- but I cannot say the same for myself. I have slept in there twice already, and worn your sweater while I slept and while I but these hints of you are not the same as your presence and words. You know, as much as I may consider the opinions of others, their presence is extraordinarily draining. I have had three dinners since you left, all of them supposedly university functions, but all also including a number of businessmen. I knew that this was a common occurrence in the chemical and engineering departments; the end goal for most research is to patent and sell to the highest bidder. But as you mentioned, I am quite well off enough that to sell would be quite unethical of me. So it is obnoxious to continually wish for a dinner discussing university business, and to get this other sort of business, instead. Were you here, I wonder what you might have said. And yes, I am sure that that must be an odd thing to hear from me, who is constantly tutting and pooh-poohing you for your lack of manners. But what seems irksome in abundance can be precious in absentia. And your forthrightness is a blast of cool air in these stuffy meetings. The lot of us stuffed-shorts spend hours and hours carefully twisting our words around, into pretty shapes, hoping to avoid offense. But all that that really seems to accomplish is to raise the standard. And thus, words that are not pretty enough become an offense. A missed complement becomes a slight. It is enough to make me long for you to insult me. I am no masochist, but the sense of security one gets by being insulted in good faith? It is endless. To know that one’s faults are perceived, and still accepted, is more flattering than a hundred compliments. That is part of the charm of you, one that is not easily seen by those deluded enough to expect empty flattery. You do not insult out of some desire to exercise power, or to harm the person with whom you speak. You do so out of the simple, innocent desire to speak what is true, or to assist another in correcting a flaw. And thus, when you speak praise, it holds a value to me which is deeply precious. And all the moreso because your opinions and insight are excellent! When we differ in perspective, it is not long before you are able to sway me to your side of the matter, and I feel all the richer for it. I miss them deeply, and remain, Ever Yours, Harry P.S. I am enclosing some additional notes on the new detection device, and I hope that they are of value.

25th of Mid-Autumn, 1905 My Failing Wordsmith, It confuses me to no end, how a man who spins the most poetic words of love in person, cannot manage to do the same on paper. I do not feel submerged in affection yet, you must open the tap further. I apologize, I am in a lackluster mood. I’ve seen neither hair nor hide of the demon, though the readings are exceptionally strong. I end each day in mounting frustration. One of Rakove’s damndable wasps escaped from its carrier the other day, and when I swung at it, the horrible things was impertinent enough to sting me. That was, in effect, the end to my entire day. Unlike you, I do not handle pain well, and the swelling in my arms was enough to command my thoughts, and I took to bed. I tried writing to you, but it was as though the blinding light at sea, searing my eyes, were all concentrated on that one spot on my arm. All I accomplished was to ruin two sheets of paper with curses, and they are illegibly mediocre ones. Professor Rakove did his best to assist, but his research in the matter is still lacking, and the salve which he applied to the sting only made the situation worse. He asked me questions, attempting to ascertain my status, but, delirious with pain, I cannot tell if I was any help. He stayed by my side for the rest of the day and night, and I appreciate his diligence, giving up valuable research time to care for me. I am still weak, and he supposes that I might have been allergic to the sting. I have told him that while I may grumble about it, he is forgiven in my heart, so long as he fixes the latch on his bee carrier. I shall continue to convalesce, but I won’t improve without affection. Yours. I demand it, so that I may remain, Ever Yours, Hawley

#That being said if you'd like to encourage me to make more of any of these #Then go ahead and comment or send an ask #I am committed to NPF and Lead Into Gold and Gentlemens Club at the moment #But enthusiasm and support can steer my brain in the Actually Making Stuff direction #WIPs #Fics #The Stanley Parable #Psychonauts 2 #Deadly Premonition #Exit #NonPlatonic Forms #Scribbles #I know that there's more rattling around but I'm not going looking for them

[megggyeggy]

A Terrifying Tale from the Darkened Pizzeria

Hell Hath No Fury: You’ve Been Misled. Pt. 1

Pt. 2 here

Trigger warning: Mentions of murder, physical assault…William being weird. Mike pretty much is just annoyed at this point.

HYPD, Hurricane Utah. March 12th 1988. 1:35 PM.

Rowan was sitting at her desk as she typed away at her computer, she sighed as she rubbed her forehead in a stressed manner before her captain had started handing out files for the officers and detectives to handle for the day. “John, you’re on meter duty. Vanessa, traffic duty. Sawyer, I need you to go talk to Ms. Gonzalez, she called again- her boyfriend apparently can’t take a hint. Escort him off the property. And…Detective Nosky, I need you to work on a cold case for me. It’s a weird one.” Dan had given out demands, looking through the files before tossing the cold case onto Rowan’s desk. “In 1985 a group of children disappeared at Freddy Fazbears Pizza, 5 kids in total. They never found the bodies, they never found a prime suspect. Our officers searched the place top to bottom, nada. So I need you to question the owner, see if you can find something that makes him tick.” Dan gave Rowan the scoop on the cold case, shrugging his shoulders as if he also knew this was a waste of time..which it was. Rowan sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose before shutting her computer off. “Right..” Rowan muttered under her breath as she stood up.

Vanessa frowned as she looked at Rowan who didn’t seem like she was gonna fight their captain on this. “Sir, isn’t that really just a waste of time? They never found anything…shouldn’t we put our focus on more important things?” Vanessa questioned curiously which Dan looked at Vanessa with narrowed eyes, a vague expression on his face. “Are you saying 5 children who have been missing for 3 years isn’t important?” Their Captain questioned the blonde woman as he pulled his cigarette carton out of his dress pants. He watched Vanessa closely, waiting for an answer. “That wasn’t rhetorical, Officer Monroe.” Dan huffed as he placed the cigarette in his mouth, searching his dress pants for a lighter. “No, sir..of course not, that’s not what I’m saying. But-..” Rowan looked at Vanessa with narrowed eyes, arching her brow. “Look, I get where you’re coming from, but those kids didn’t just disappear into thin air. It’s our job to find them, not to forget about them.” Rowan scolded her fellow officer which made Vanessa frown, a look of guilt weighing on her face.

Rowan let out a heavy sigh as she grabbed her keys to her cruiser before grabbing the file folder, “Lighter in my drawer.” Rowan called over her shoulder to her captain who had thanked her, apparently he lost his own lighter..

Hurricane, Utah. Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. 2:40 PM.

Rowan had pulled into the Freddy’s Pizzeria parking lot, the owners tried to keep the place running..obviously they couldn’t let it go. She took note of how many cars were there, 12, in total. Rowan sighed as she got out of her cruiser and locked the door behind her. She approached the diner with curious eyes. Once she entered the restaurant she took time to look over the employee of the month plaque.. the health and safety plaques, drawings that the children had made were put up onto the wall. Rowan could hear the upbeat music that the animatronics were performing, she made her way further inside as she scanned the area for an employee. She took notice of a man speaking with an employee, how he looked at her with furrowed brows before shooing the employee off. The man approached Rowan with a wide smile, “Hi-..Hello, Officer. How can I help you?” The man awkwardly spoke, which Rowan arched her brow. “Hello, Sir-…” The man grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh please, call me Henry!” Henry had told her to which Rowan’s eyes narrowed, not enjoying the interruption.

“Henry…I am Detective Rowan Nosky..I’m working on a cold case that involves your restaurant. I was wondering if I could look around, I would need access to the whole restaurant. Of course, I need your permission to do a search.” Henry looked nervous as he watched Rowan, tilting his head. “I thought they closed that case? I mean-..they didn’t find anything! I can assure you, Freddy’s is the safest place for children! Our company is not involved-“ Rowan took a deep breath, drowning out the man’s rant about how there was no possible way someone working at their diner was responsible. She heard it all before. Rowan looked at Henry with narrowed eyes, she placed her hands on her hips. “So do I have your permission or not? If not, I will have to come back with a search warrant and that won’t look pretty on your part.” Rowan had warned the man, who sighed in defeat.

“I can’t make any decisions without speaking to my partner.” Henry told the officer, grabbing his walkie talkie from his belt and he pressed the button on the side. “William, can you come to the entrance? We have an issue.” Henry muttered into the walkie, releasing the button which allowed the static to come through. There was an awkward silence between the two, waiting for a response. “Can it wait?” William’s almost annoyed voice came through, which Henry sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose before speaking into the radio. “No. It’s the police.” Henry answered, once again..there was silence. Rowan stood there with her hands on her hips, indistinct police chatter coming over her own radio as she watched Henry with narrowed eyes.

“Doesn’t seem like he takes this too seriously.” Rowan commented on how lazy William seemed to have acted with an ‘issue’. “Oh-..he’s just-..had a day..Y’know-..” Henry laughed nervously before sighing in relief when he saw William walking towards the couple. “Hello! How can we help you?” William greeted with a friendly grin, slapping his hand onto his friend’s shoulder who seemed to be more relaxed now that William was here. “Like I told your partner, I just want to look around. My department is opening the cold case files from 1985, the disappearances. If I have your permission?” Rowan spoke calmly, her thumbs hooked through her utility belt.

William’s eyes softened at the mention of the disappearances, he sighed as he seemed to stare off into space for a moment. “Oh yes..that was…a very sad year…” William mumbled before looking at Rowan as he smiled faintly. His eyes raked over her figure for a moment, William lifted his hand to fix his glasses before humming. “Sure, yeah. Of course, you can have a look! Just uh-…” William looked towards some of the parents who were looking in their direction, “..make it quick, yeah? Don’t want any unwanted attention.” William told Rowan politely, to which she bowed her head. “Thank you, Sir-“ William grinned cheekily at Rowan, “William Afton.” Rowan hummed as she squinted at William, “Mr. Afton.” She stated before walking past the two men.

Rowan had searched around the play area first, nothing. She looked behind the stage curiously, brows pinched together as she sighed in frustration. Rowan pulled out her flashlight as she aimed it underneath the stage, nothing…Rowan breathed out softly as she stood up straight, looking towards the animatronics. The Purple Bunny seemed to be staring right at her, its eyes squinted..she felt chills run up her spine, it wasn’t even moving or dancing anymore..There was an uncomfortable tension between the officer and the animatronic Bunny, before suddenly it started dancing again. The sudden movement caused Rowan to flinch, she stared hard at the Bunny who didn’t spare her a glance. Rowan scoffed as she rolled her eyes, “Stupid.” Rowan muttered under her breath before leaving the stage.

Rowan knew she only had so much time before she would be asked to leave the premise, so she was trying to be quick. Rowan went back to the parts and services room, looking around the room curiously. “Huh..definitely screams horror movie.” Rowan told herself, looking at the animatronic, it’s chest cavity open. The character had an old timey hat on her head, with curls framing her face. Bright red circles on her cheeks. Rowan frowned at the sight of the robot, it was so…unsettling. Rowan made her way towards one of the spare Freddy suit’s as she held her hand out to remove the head. “Officer Nosky! Find anything?” William’s booming voice had made Rowan jump out of her skin, she spun around as she looked at William with wide eyes. “I-..” Rowan glanced over her shoulder at the Freddy suit, glancing back at William who was looking at her with an amused expression. “No-..but I’m not done-“ William sighed out as he looked down at his watch, “It’s almost 4 O’clock. You’ve been here over an hour. If you haven’t found anything, you’re not going to. I apologize but I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, I believe you wore out your welcome.” William spoke politely, an apologetic expression written on his features but it didn’t reach his eyes…in his eyes..there was a certain glint in them. As if begging her not to look into the suit. Rowan frowned as she watched Afton closely, brows furrowed together. “Okay-..” Rowan muttered as she pushed past William and made her way to the front entrance. “Thank you both for your time and cooperation.” Rowan thanked both of the owners with a fake smile on her face, Henry nodded his head with a warm smile on his face while William watched Rowan with an uncertain look on his face, forcing a smile upon his face. “Of course, anytime, officer.”

Rowan’s Home. 12:07 AM. March 13th, 1988.

Rowan tossed back and forth in her bed, a thin layer of sweat covering her body as she squirmed around in bed. Another nightmare. The Freddy suit from the restaurant…it had something inside of it..a child’s arm sticking out of it, motioning for her to step closer. “You almost got it! Just a little closer!” A child’s voice had exclaimed, as she inched closer towards the suit…she held her hands out to reach for the head. “Closer..” The child’s voice had darkened, sounding almost demonic. As she grabbed the empty animatronic suit’s head, lifting it up- the child’s arm had reached out and grabbed her by the hair. “It’s me.” The voice snarled before Rowan had jumped out of her sleep in a cold sweat, panting heavily. Rowan looked around with wide fearful eyes, “What-..” She breathed out shakily, her eyes fluttering as she looked at the time. 12:07 AM. She wasn’t gonna be able to sleep..Not like this. Rowan rubbed her face stressfully as she took a deep breath, “What is going on..” Rowan muttered before freezing, as she came to a realization. She was quick to jump to her feet, “They-..They never found the bodies because they were looking in the wrong places..” Rowan told herself.

Rowan quickly ran to grab her landline, she looked through her phone book for Freddy’s Diner. Once she found a phone number, she quickly dialed the phone number. She waited for an answer but instead the line simply beeped, “Busy..?” Rowan whispered with furrowed brows, she tried to call again but to no avail. Rowan huffed in annoyance, biting her inner cheek as she looked at her shoes in thought. She should go check it out…Rowan ran to grab her rain jacket and her rain boots, she was dressed in her black joggers and a white t-shirt. She wasn’t worried about getting dressed into something respectable since no one would be seeing her. “They’re in the suits.” Rowan muttered, the situation was bittersweet..she most likely cracked the case yet-..the kids were still missing..and dead. Rowan grabbed her car keys and quickly ran outside into the rain, she needed to check in that suit before coming to any conclusions..she couldn’t make assumptions based off of a dream, but she could investigate because of a dream.

Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. 12:30 AM.

Rowan made her way into the restaurant as she held onto her flashlight, the hood of her raincoat up and over her head. She had picked the lock to the front entrance before entering the building. Rowan knew exactly where she was gonna look first, she had to see for herself..was one of the children communicating with her in her dreams? Or was she simply just insane? She was going to find out. Rowan made her way further into the restaurant, holding her flashlight tightly in her grasp as she looked around curiously. “What’re you guys hiding?…” Rowan muttered to herself as she made her way towards the stage, perhaps she would look inside those animatronics first. She grabbed a footstool that was sitting in front of the stage and opened it, placing it in front of the Bonnie the Bunny animatronic. “You first,” Rowan muttered as she prepared herself to look into the suit before an amused voice cut her off guard. She stood on the footstool as she grabbed the head of the Bunny animatronic, freezing when she heard mechanical footsteps. Rowan looked to the corner of the diner, it was dark..but she saw glowing silver eyes looking back at her. The animatronic stepped out into the dim light, it was a yellow bunny…a haunting smile on its face.

“You couldn’t just leave it alone, could you?” The animatronic snarled at her, her brows pinched together in confusion. It could talk? Rowan was quick to step down from the footstool, she went to grab for her gun but..it wasn’t there. She must’ve forgotten it in her car. “Hey, don’t get any closer!” Rowan demanded, fear lacing her voice as she kept her distance. The Yellow Bunny cackled in amusement, “That’s cute…You shouldn’t have come back here. Stupid little girl.” It snarled in response as it continued to step closer to her which caused Rowan to tense as she glared at the animatronic. “Stay back!” Rowan commanded apprehensively, she took a step back but tripped over the footstool, falling onto her back with a pained groan which caused her flashlight to roll across the room. Rowan rolled onto her stomach as she got onto her hands and knees, crawling towards the flickering light of her flashlight. “This is going to be so much fun!” The Yellow Bunny snickered, excitement lacing his tone. Rowan screamed in fear when she felt a hand seize hold of her hair, yanking her back against her chest of the bunny suit. “They won’t find you either,” The Yellow Bunny sneered, he shoved her forward before kicking her across the face as hard as possible.

Rowan’s body rolled a few times after the harsh kick, she could hear ringing in her ears as her vision blurred. “W-..Wha..” Rowan breathed out heavily, trying to get the strength to sit up. She could hear a new voice, a feminine one. “Dad-..Please..if she-..” the voice was muffled as Rowan groaned in pain, reaching out for her flashlight. Rowan’s shaky hand grabbed it as she rolled onto her back with a huff, shining it in the direction of the new voice. “V-..Vanessa..?” Rowan breathed out, brows pinching together in confusion. “She knows you're involved now..really want to lose your job because of some bitch who couldn’t catch a hint?” The man in the Yellow Bunny suit growled at Vanessa who had bowed her head in defeat. “This is your mess, you should’ve kept her away.” The man growled, removing the Yellow Bunny animatronics head. “I’ll take care of it.” William had said with an amused expression as he looked down at Rowan, tilting his head to the side. Rowan’s brows pinched together as she looked up at William, “M-..Mr..Afton?” She groaned out, she could feel a warm liquid trickling out of her nose. “Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon.” William cooed, grabbing Rowan by the hood of her jacket. “You really shouldn’t have come here.” He sighed out as if this was a chore for him. William dragged Rowan to the back rooms, the door closing behind them with an eerie creaking sound.

#fnaf movie #fnaf #mike schmidt #william afton #oc #original female character #smut #mike schimdt smut #william afton smut #William Afton non con #five nights at freddy's #police #night guard #mike schimdt x reader #william afton x reader

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

New data has revealed the staggering pressure LGBTQ+ Americans are under following the wave of homophobic and transphobic legislation that has swept US states.

The Human Rights Campaign (HRC), an LGBTQ+ nonprofit organization, revealed in data analysis published on Wednesday (16 August) that almost 80% of LGBTQ+ adults feel less safe amid the rise in right-wing laws across the US.

For trans and non-binary adults, this number is significantly higher, with more than nine in 10 (94%) feeling unsafe in the US.

Results were pulled from a Community Marketing Insight (CMI) survey as part of its 17th annual LGBTQ+ Community Survey, which HRC co-sponsored.

Questions were based upon the 550 anti-LGBTQ+ bills introduced in more than 40 states across the US since the beginning of 2023, more than 80 of which have been signed into law.

21 states in the country have enacted laws banning gender-affirming care for trans youth under the false pretence that under-18s are being put through surgeries, despite no medical organisation anywhere allowing children to undergo them.

43% of LGBTQ+ adults report that gender-affirming care bans have impacted the physical and/or mental well-being of themselves, their friends and family.

Meanwhile, over 80% of trans and non-binary adults report the same.

“Just two months after HRC declared a national state of emergency for LGBTQ+ people, this survey reveals that the current climate of hostility and fear is only growing worse,” HRC president Kelley Robinson said in a statement.

“Gender-affirming care bans are taking a detrimental toll on the physical and mental health of LGBTQ+ Americans,” she continued.

“Extremist, anti-LGBTQ+ politicians and their allies are waging a dangerous and cruel misinformation campaign that seeks to stigmatise not only gender-affirming care but transgender and non-binary people as well.”

“The rhetoric and misinformation is having a virtually universal impact on LGBTQ+ people, and further plunging us into a state of emergency that’s threatening the health and safety of every LGBTQ+ person.”

FEAR OF SAFETY SIGNIFICANTLY WORSE IN FLORIDA, DATA REVEALS

The report also revealed that LGBTQ+ people in Florida are more likely to feel anxious about their own safety following Governor Ron DeSantis’ anti-LGBTQ+ attacks.

Nearly 80% of trans and non-binary adults living in Florida have said that gender-affirming care bans impact their physical or mental health, while almost 90% have either taken steps or want to take steps to move to a new state or country.

Over 93% have said gender-affirming care bans make them feel less safe in the state.

Equality Florida executive director, Nadine Smith, said in a statement: “The results of this survey make clear that we Floridians will be repairing that damage of anti-LGBTQ+ laws passed in this state for years to come.”

“Conferences are cancelling, talent is fleeing, and the best and brightest are abandoning our universities, while LGBTQ+ people are feeling more unsafe than ever before.”

“These attacks have to stop.”

In April, the Human Rights Campaign issued a warning against LGBTQ+ travelers visiting Florida, telling potential tourists to “reconsider” any plans they may have had.

#us politics #news #pink news #lgbtqia+ #lgbtqia+ representation #lgbtqia+ rights #florida #homophobia #transphobia #Human Rights Campaign #Community Marketing Insight #17th annual LGBTQ+ Community Survey #gender-affirming care #gender-affirming care bans #Kelley Robinson #Equality Florida #Nadine Smith #2023

[mrvlbimbo]

A Series of Nights pt 3

Night three (Steve finds out)

Pt 2

“Ohmygod, we slept together,” she gasped out, scrambling up from her position and grabbing his shoulders excitedly. 

“I think I’d remember that,” he chuckled, not sure what she was getting at. His foul mood was nowhere to be seen that morning, which was a nice change of pace. 

“No dumbass, we slept. Like for the first time in a month I got a decent night's rest,” she explained, shaking his shoulders. Her eyes were lit up with excitement and he couldn’t help but laugh again. 

AKA

partners awkwardly share a bed because its the only way for them to make the nightmares go away, chaos ensues

The following weeks were characterized by success, both in DEA business and outside of work. The three partners had become quick friends and they were able to appreciate the government’s assault on the narcos while sipping down beers and filing meaningless paperwork. 

Things were going well with Murphy and his wife finally getting settled into the new country and Javier and his other partner were practically roommates at this point. The whole ordeal was odd, but it let them to rest so they didn’t dig any deeper. 

Things were going great, until they weren’t. The guy responsible for the government’s involvement was Rodrigo Lara. Everyone knew he couldn’t stay in the country long because the narcos were after him. And as they anticipated, he was killed the day he was set to leave the country. 

It shocked the DEA agents. Not because they were surprised, but it ripped the sense of progress and stability they had felt previously right out from under their feet. 

The nights had been good for the past few weeks. Casually and wordlessly sneaking into each other's beds and waking to find the other gone before morning. But things were different the night after assassination.  

Neither of them had the nerve to cross the perimeter of the door to their own apartment and step out into the world after what had happened. So they both paced the living areas of their respective homes. Hours ticked by and their resolve faded, wanting the company but not knowing what there possibly could be left to say. 

Javier was the first to break, hastily stepping out of his apartment without bothering to put a shirt on or fix his hand tousled hair. He didn’t knock because he didn’t have to, the door swung open as soon as he was in front of it. 

“I can’t sleep,” he commented, leaning on the door frame awkwardly as he waited to be let in. 

“Yeah. I know,” she replied quickly, ushering him inside and leading him to the couch. 

He sat down, acutely aware that her soft touch had not left him. Her hand was now gliding over his arm and shoulder in a comforting wave. “It’s Steve’s fault,” he muttered, referring to the assassination. 

“That doesn’t make it any easier though?” she questioned but it was clearly rhetorical. She knew for a fact that it didn't matter who he blamed, the loss would still eat at his soul. 

He groaned in frustration and leaned into her, letting her arms wrap around his shoulders. “I can’t sleep. I just don’t want to be alone I guess,” 

“Why didn’t you call one of your lady friends?” she asked, it was an invasive question but it was genuine. His reputation for late night meetings with hookers wasn’t a secret by any means. And there was a comfort they could provide that she wasn’t inclined to give away so easily. 

“You’re my friend and you’re a lady so by that logic, I did call one of my lady friends,” he replied, a sly smirk on his face adding to his playful nature. 

She tried to ignore the implication of what he had just said.“So what do you want?” she continued with a sigh, bringing the conversation back to why exactly he showed up at her apartment now of all times. 

“Can we just lay down?” he pleaded, her soft gaze breaking his hesitancy down to nothing at last. 

She laid back onto the couch and offered her open arms to him. He crawled between her legs and rested his head on her stomach, wrapping his arms around her waist. 

She carded a hand through his hair and hummed softly. “Don’t go soft on me, Peña,” she teased, tugging at the roots of his hair to get his attention. 

“Too late,” he grumbled with a weak laugh, nuzzling his head into her shirt with a dopey grin on his face. 

After an unspecified amount of hours of whispered jokes and incoherent mumbling, they both fell asleep for the most part. Javier, being a more sound sleeper, managed not to wake to their disheveled partner barging through the door with a gun.  

“Javi isn’t in his apartment,” Steve spoke breathlessly, as he rushed through the door. 

“Shhh,” she whispered harshly, waving her finger around and motioning to the sound asleep man. 

“Oh,” Steve gasped dumbfounded. His expression said it all. The fear in his eyes instantly resided and was replaced with a look of almost confusion. He knew what he was seeing but he wasn’t sure what any of it meant. His look of confusion quickly morphed into a smirk, raising his brows at the two agents tangled in each other's limbs. 

“Be quiet,” she hissed, eyes widening when the other man stirred. 

His arms around her waist tightened and he tilted his head up and opened his eyes to meet hers. “Morning,” he rasped, pushing himself up so he was hovering over her. 

“Uhm we have company,” she squeaked, pushing him off of her and scrambling to the far edge of the couch. 

“Hi partners. Seems like you two had a good night. I’ll get out of your hair. Sorry,” he drawled apologetically before rushing back out of the apartment as quick as he came. 

“Murphy. Sit your ass down,” Javier yelled after him. 

He reluctantly came back and sat on the chair next to the couch. “Nothing to talk about really. I’m not gonna tell on ya’,” he assured, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. 

“We’re sleeping together,” Javier offered, before leaving the room with a laugh. He reveled in the way his female partner tensed up and whipped her head around to yell at him. 

“No we’re not, don’t tell him that. You’re not funny!” she shouted, having half the mind to chase him down and slap him. But she decided against it since Steve was waiting patiently for an explanation to what he had seen. “I haven’t been able to sleep since I got this assignment, Murphy. I know it’s weird but it works,” she continued.  

“So you’re doing it? It’s really no big deal,” he rambled, wanting to get out of the tense situation as soon as possible. 

“No we’re not doing it,” she snapped, an exasperated sigh leaving her lips as she rubbed a hand over her face. Sure, they would laugh about this later, but right now she was running high on adrenaline. Fear that she would be found out, and her actions would be twisted into something they weren't. For Javier it would be an accomplishment, but for her it would mean disgrace around the office. Even when nothing had happened, she would never be able to escape the rumor. 

“You don’t have to sound so disgusted,” Javier added, appearing from the doorway to the hall. The two of them were silent, waiting for him to speak again since he was the one who interrupted. “I borrowed your toothbrush by the way,” he finished, striding over to the couch to sit back down next to her. He reluctantly left plenty of space due to the current allegations they were facing. 

“I like to keep my bed warm, what can I say,” she joked, trying to offer an explanation but getting caught up and saying something else that sounded like an innuendo. 

Javier laughed at that comment, clapping a hand on Steve’s back and muttering, “Really it’s nothing. I get nightmares and it’s nice to not be alone at night.”

Steve squinted skeptically, looking them both over to discern any signs they were lying. Once he was satisfied he left, still highly confused about the whole thing but more focused on getting on with his day. 

As soon as Steve was out the door the other man took it as his cue to start chuckling. She was having none of his nonsense and decided to launch a throw pillow at him. It hit him square in the face and although it didn’t hurt it certainly caught him off guard. In retaliation he grabbed the same pillow and hit her over the head with it, grinning as she glared up at him. 

“Leave,” she growled, poking him in the chest and putting a good bit of force behind her finger to get the point across. 

He put his hands up in surrender and sauntered out of the apartment. “See you at work,” he said before closing the door. 

She couldn’t help the full faced smile that she gave at his silly antics. That was another thing she brushed off and tried to forget about as she got ready for work.

Pt 4

#javier pena #javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #narcos #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

[queer-muslim-culture-is]

content warnings : discussions of homophobia (especially familial), misogyny, suicidal ideation, islamophobia, mentioned 9/11

https://hrc-prod-requests.s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com/files/assets/resources/HRC-MUSLIM_GUIDE.pdf

a booklet made by the human rights campaign, specifically from their "coming home" series which is about embracing both your queerness and your faith this one features a variety of queer muslim voices and their stories surrounding coming out (or not!), embracing themselves, and finding community as well as resources sprinkled throughout

my favorite excerpt under the cut (tw suicidal ideation)

“We get emails from LGBTQ Muslims who are suicidal because they’re traumatized by the disrespect, the scorn that they hear,” Zonneveld explains. “They ask, ‘How can I continue to exist? How could God create me, just to go through all this pain?’ For the devout Muslims, surrounded by rhetoric that rejects their very essence, the question becomes more than one of self-worth. It becomes, ‘Why do I exist? Should I exist?’” The answer found at Unity Mosques is a resounding “yes.”

#not queer muslim culture #queer muslim #queer #muslim #resources

[actualfactualrat]

Pariah

(1/?)

A short piece that I intend to make into many, from the perspective of a character I've been meaning to flesh out. Pariah is a story that will be told in parts, from the perspective of a Legionnaire in the Dominian Imperium's soldier caste. The magically gifted are famously mistrusted in Dominian society, especially so in the military. Magically gifted Legionnaires are branded "Pariahs" and are ostracized from their peers, in addition to being even more dehumanized than is usual for a Legionnaire, which is already a lot.

It's told from the perspective of V-2716, a specific Pariah in the 237th Expeditionary Legion, who, rather simply, was named "Pariah" by other members of its Legion.

None of these things will mean anything to y'all because they're from my own personal Sci-Fantasy setting, and that's okay, they will eventually, and you can also send Asks to question me about lore, I will happily respond in detail! 🖤🖤

It stared into the distance again. The same dream as before. The one which would not leave it be. A cliff made of glittering black sandstone, surrounded by oceans of sand in the same onyx color, shining under the light of a night sky bursting with unfamiliar stars. No sound was present, not even wind, yet it was deafening. It was a place that felt so perfect, so familiar and safe, but at the same time was unknown. Fear began to rise, an uncertainty.

It looked down at its carapaced arms, the seams between plates glowing with a flickering purple light that twinkled like the uncountable stars above. As it has every time it can remember, as if guided by some instinct, it raises a clawed hand, and the sand below begins to shift. Boiling, rolling, twisting into itself as something unholy below it stirred. Perhaps it was even the world itself, tearing apart at the seams. That same purple light begins to shine from between the sands...

...2716 sits up abruptly, striking its head on the empty bunk above it. It gazed around the reliquary which it called home, scraping the sleep from its eyes and rubbing the tender spot. The room was thoroughly empty, save for an altar to the Queen, a towering, gilded marble statue of Her Eminence's mandibled visage. In addition, a small station and table for 2716's scarce personal belongings.

The only Pariah of the 237th, there were no other residents of the reliquary. It was quiet, lonely except for the occasional visits by inspecting officers or its handler, but that was what it preferred. The life of a Pariah was always a lonely one, few of the rank and file would ever speak to one, it invited bad luck. 2716 was indifferently okay with this fate, true solitude was preferable to solitude by ostracization in company. The door hissed open, and the solitude was broken as 2716 slid itself out of bed and began to don its uniform.

Justice, one of the massive Queenguard, and 2716's handler. Jet black carapace from head to toe, similar in color to the sand from its dream. Where most Legionnaires were slender, with smooth and sloping yellow carapaces- almost graceful- the Queenguard were wide, sharp, and fierce, looking more animal than honored guardian. They had the strength of ten and the training to equal far more. It couldn't help but try to suppress a tinge of fear as she paces idly into the room, conducting a brief inspection.

"Clean. As always, Pariah. Do you clean these quarters by yourself?" She needles it, the question almost rhetorical.

"It has no other option, if you'll forgive it sounding ungrateful." 2716 bows its head in deference, pausing in the process of uniforming.

"I take no offense. It speaks to the order of your mind, Pariah. A good sign, the undisciplined would let it fall to disrepair, and the lazy would only upkeep the area they rest in. I only wanted to see if you'd be honest, or hide your discontent. You'll forgive my testing you?"

Rather than wait for a response, she continues as it finishes uniforming. "I need an honest, dependable Pariah for something. The 237th was the closest Legion ship to me, I must admit I'm surprised you're the only one here, but on paper you have a good track record of reliability. What do the other Legionnaires call you?"

2716 finishes donning its uniform, adjusting the Pariah's red pauldron over its hardsuit before answering. "They call it 'Pariah. It's the only one here, they felt no need to differentiate it."

"Pariah, hm? Straight to the point then. Very well, Pariah, gather your things and follow me. I need to speak with your commanding officer about your reassignment. That would be..?"

"As the Queen wills it, Justice." Pariah bows and quickly sets about gathering its possessions. "It reports directly to the Legion's Antiarn, Sertius. He has dispatched no dedicated officer to take charge of it, he prefers to manage it himself. It recalls the phrase 'A short leash."

"Then I shall follow after you, Pariah. You would know this ship better than I."

Bowing its head, 2716 acquiesces and steps out into the hall, leaving the reliquary. It noted the shifting of armor as the pair of guards outside straightened up when Justice followed.

It began the familiar walk through halls it knew well, though it always felt like it was walking them for the first time. They felt empty, no matter how many Legionnaires populated them. It proceeded with its head bowed and hands folded neatly before it, not fearing a collision. Groups of Legionnaires parted to let 2716 proceed, it felt their anxious glances slide over it as it wove between them.

Conversations stopped dead, some even diverted their path and quickly stepped out of the hall into a room, abandoning their comrades' sides. Any room, it didn't matter if it was just a closet, they'd find something to do. None would look directly at 2716, none would speak to it unless they had to. It didn't blame them, avoidance seemed the safest course of action. Pariahs were a powerful force that could be used to great ends for the Imperium, but magery was a dangerous power, and one difficult to control, especially for a Pariah itself.

Temptation was a gateway, one that could not be closed once opened. Isolation, penitence, and fortitude of mind were key. This was why Pariahs like it were sequestered in reliquaries, kept away from the masses to allow them to retain and build their focus in relative privacy. Such a life often left it wanting for peers, being as it was the only Pariah of the Legion, but it consoled itself with the knowledge that sacrificing oneself for Queen and Empire was among the most important of the Legionnaire's tenets drilled into it since first it could remember. 2716 reminded itself of this often when walking the halls.

It glanced up from the metallic plates that made up the floor, it was here. The door to Antiarn Sertius' office loomed. It had never arrived here unsummoned, but with the will of a Queenguard behind it, all should be well. It knocked twice.

"Enter." Came the voice from within. Puzzled, slightly, but mostly annoyed. An apt summary of all of the Antiarn's interactions involving 2716, it notes to itself. Opening the door, it steps in and watches disapproval in the annoyed flick of Sertius' antennae, the fur covering the officer's carapace bristling.

"V-2716? What do you want? Can't you see I'm-"

His impending lecture was swiftly and unceremoniously cut short as Justice ducked in and strode forwards, leaning over Sertius and placing her hands on his desk.

"I'm borrowing your Pariah here." She states simply, almost daring him to protest. "I need it for a personal mission."

"You- I would be a very poor Antiarn if I let that roam freely and without my supervision. Think of the safety of the Imperium, may Queen reign it eternal." He set in with his usual blustering. Though he wasn't exactly defying her, the direct statement angered the Antiarn, 2716 could tell that he wanted nothing more than to refuse. He hated having his authority challenged.

"Fortunately for you, it won't go unsupervised. It will instead be under my supervision. My constant supervision. Which would be far better than yours. I didn't see you in the reliquary, unless you're better at hiding than I thought. I'd hate to leave empty handed and have to make a report on the state of your reliquary's rather lax security." She almost seemed to be having fun with this, her head cocked ever so slightly in a coy tilt.

For a moment, it thought the Antiarn was about to explode, his hands curled up tightly until carapace scraped audibly against more of the same. Eventually came the dry reply, a bitter note of defeat poisoning his tone as his hand relaxed and fished for a pen. "... I'll do the paperwork. Get it out of my sight."

"A pleasure requisitioning from you, Antiarn. I do so hope to do this again one day." She turned and made way out the door, beckoning to 2716 with a claw. "This way, Pariah. We've a long flight ahead of us and I'd prefer to be underway as soon as possible."

2716 quickly trots along until it matches her pace en route to the hangar, meekly bringing up a question as sudden fear brought pins and needles to the tips of its fingers and antennae. "Is it permitted to speak unprompted for a moment?"

"Always. I won't have you hide things for worry of displeasing me, Pariah. I have no use for one so timid, honesty and bravery is what I require."

"Handling of Pariahs, it's done from afar, is it not? Rarely, in person, but... To take one from the Legion that owns it and go elsewhere? What would require that? This one has never been removed from its Legion."

"All will be answered in time, I can't tell you here." She stops abruptly at the door to the hangar, turning around to study it closer for a brief moment. "I just need to know. Can you do this, or will I have to find another?"

For a moment, it was paralyzed. It wanted to say no. But something gnawed at the back of its mind as it gazed back at Justice. Her onyx carapace reminded it. The place in the dream, that had to be as far away from the interior of a starship's reliquary as one could get. Far from the usual battlefields it saw.

2716 didn't know why this came to mind, or why it was suddenly so tempting an offer to chase, but this was a chance to get outside of the confines of the Legion's fleet. It was tempting, though still terrifying, to have the chance to see those sands firsthand. To witness the light. To understand.

It made up its mind.

"Yes. It can."

#AFRPariah #actualfactualwriting #short story #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing #novel writing #story #stories

[lambourngb]

46. secretly holding hands under the table or 44. public kisses

Thanks for the prompts! I'm trying to write some short, interconnected stories from them.

Malex Fic, Established Relationship, Future Fic

Trying (to make a good impression)

46. secretly holding hands under the table

The sunlight struggled to break through the layers of grime on the ceiling-high window in the foundation level office. Michael could see the fluttering of dust bunnies dancing in and out of the waning fall sunshine beam, set alight by the strong arctic blast of an aging but robust air conditioning vent. The most important office in the government complex, the New Mexico Children, Youth and Family Department, and it was practically in the basement.

He nervously rubbed his fingers over the knee of his pressed pants’ his comfortable broken-in jeans had been exchanged for linen slacks more at home on the frame of a salesman, not a junkyard mechanic. Isobel had tried to force a tie on him, before Alex had intervened with a classic oxford shirt, open at the collar, with a warning that they didn't want to overdo it and come on too strongly. 

This was just the first meeting after they had attended an orientation and had filled out the online application. The first step in obtaining a license to foster a child. It was the entry to everything that mattered to Michael.

Alex reached under the table to find Michael’s drumming fingers and slipped his hand into his.

Almost everything, Michael amended, feeling the calm strength in Alex’s grip ease his butterflies.

“I see you’ve been married for three years.”

Was that a rhetorical question? Should he say something in agreement? What if he said nothing and was thought to be rude? He licked his lips, squeezing Alex’s hand for strength, and answered, “That’s right.”

“And you’ve been living together for three years as well. Same time frame.”

Alex coughed nervously as the caseworker looked up from their file with her eyeglasses slipping down her nose to peer at them curiously. “We knew marriage was the next step almost right away.”

“We’re actually high school sweethearts,” Michael put in, worried that this Ms. Patel thought they were impulsive with the short space in between moving in together and marriage. He wasn’t about to explain Alex’s time in a liminal space pocket/gateway to Oasis built by an alien geneticist, keyed to his species, but that was deadly to humans with any sort of long-term exposure. Although originally, it was a bucket-list, before he died, type of proposal by Alex, they quickly knew that getting married really only mattered if they could be married, and share a life together.

“I see,” Ms. Patel commented, before flipping another page in their application. “You’ve checked the box that indicates you have a criminal record, Mr. Guerin.”

“Um, call me Michael, we’re both Mr. Guerin. Alex took my name when we got married, but I got his house, so it all worked out.” The woman didn’t blink at his joking correction, and just waited. Fuck. Michael straightened in his seat, dropping the smile. “Yes. I understand I didn’t have to disclose that early on, but you’re going to see I had some issues after high school on the federal background check.”

“The background check comes much later, after you’ve completed the thirty-two hours of mandatory training courses.” Her tone was bland, but Michael couldn’t help but hear in her voice that she had her doubts that they were going to make it that far.

“I know, but I wanted to be up front, just it case it’s an issue-”

“I checked with your requirements, Michael’s record is over 8 years old, and it was for misdemeanors, open container of alcohol and like, some gambling on a billiards game, nothing disqualifying to being a foster parent,” Alex put in, defending Michael. 

It was a gesture that should have made Michael feel loved and reassured, but instead the rock in his stomach just got heavier. Alex had checked. After the fight they had had over this, Michael shouldn’t have felt surprised by the fact Alex had felt the need to check the requirements. When the background check was originally raised, his brilliant, government-trained cyber specialist husband had offered to hack into all of the databases that held evidence of his record.

He had argued to Alex that it was too great of a risk to take, committing another crime to cover his past crimes, but all Alex had heard at the time was that Michael hadn’t trusted him to do it without being caught. The dishes that night had been meticulously washed for over an hour after that fight, before they had made up once they had read that there would be background interviews with both listed family and friends, and casual acquaintances. Someone could mention it, and then they would be caught in a lie, along with an active crime. 

Outside of having Isobel follow the investigator on all of their interviews in order to keep the knowledge of Michael’s past out of the report, which she would probably be all-too-happy to do, it was better to be up front and hope the age of the arrests, and the types of crimes would be considered inconsequential. 

“Current or past criminal issues are assessed on a case-by-case basis.”

Michael exhaled roughly, and started to disentangle his hand from Alex’s. That was it then. He had fucked up too much in the past, and ruined his future without even really knowing it. Par for the fucking course. How many times would his past dumb decisions cost him what he wanted the most? The dream of having children with Alex was just that, a dream. Although he still had Alex, he didn’t feel worthy of that either right then. He was well aware of how he had nearly ruined that too-

“However, it is also important to be completely honest with me regarding any past or present issues related to your criminal record. It’s better to be up front with me now, before I find out for myself. So, I appreciate your candor, Mr. Guerin.” Her stern face softened at the sight of his visible relief. “I mean, Michael.”

“So I still have a chance here? To get licensed?”

“Your record, have you ever hurt someone seriously? Felony bodily harm? Have you ever killed someone?”

“Never,” Michael promised, feeling Alex’s grip with his thumb for strength. Scuffling with Wyatt Long at a bar hardly counted. They both knew Michael had lost more fights than he had ever won. The alien menace that Alex’s family had warned against for years, had a weak right hook. Of the two of them, Alex was the killer, thanks to the US Military.

“No sexual assaults?”

“God no!”

Ms. Patel leaned across the table, staring at them both intently, “Have you ever hurt a child?”

“This is also in my background, but I grew up in this foster care system. My experiences were … difficult back then, but they’re also why I’m here, wanting to be a part of it as an adult. I want to give a child a safe home, something I rarely found as a kid. When I say, I would rather die than hurt a child, I’m serious.”

She flipped another page on the application, and nodded, “Then your husband, Alex, is correct. There’s nothing disqualifying in your record, Michael. On the contrary, perhaps you have more qualifications to be a resource parent than he has with his military background. It’s good you’ve been at the same residence for three years. Let’s discuss the next step, attending those resource parent classes I mentioned earlier. There are several sessions, scheduled on the weekends-” 

With that, the interview continued, but the weight Michael had been carrying for weeks regarding his past disappeared. This time, he exhaled in complete relief, meeting Alex’s encouraging gaze with his own watery grin. They were going to do this.

Under the conference table, he squeezed Alex’s hand three quick times in succession. Step one was complete.

#malex fic #established relationship #future fic #very inspired by appletv trying #google and brief research #the trying universe #malex #roswell new mexico

[eretzyisrael]

by Luke Tress

Leading US Jewish groups on Monday said they had filed a lawsuit against a large California school district alleging the school’s board covertly approved anti-Israel curricula, deliberately depriving the Jewish community and others of their legal right to weigh in on the controversial lesson plans.

The lawsuit against Orange County’s Santa Ana Unified School District sought to overturn the curricula, in the latest salvo in a years-long battle over the handling of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, and Jewish American representation, in ethnic studies courses in California schools.

The Anti-Defamation League, the American Jewish Committee, the legal advocacy group the Louis D. Brandeis Center for Human Rights Under Law, and Maryland’s Potomac Law Group filed the lawsuit on Friday, claiming the courses include materials biased against Jews and Israelis that veer into antisemitism.

https://imasdk.googleapis.com/js/core/bridge3.590.0_en.html#goog_1582919429The video player is currently playing an ad.

The lawsuit claims the school district passed the curricula for four high school courses earlier this year without providing proper notification to the public, as required by law. The Brown Act, California’s open meeting law, requires school boards to inform the public about educational agenda and plans so the community can provide input and participate in the decision-making process.

The educators were aware of potential objections from the Jewish community to the content, but avoided engaging with community members, the lawsuit said, citing material obtained from a public records request. The board’s course and curriculum subcommittee notes from October 2022 included the comment, “Address the Jewish Question — do we have to create a response,” and recommended consulting with two outside groups who had previously supported the curricula, but not with Jews.

The “Jewish question” is a term with a long antisemitic history.

Other minority groups were not discussed in the same way. For a course on Native American history, the notes included the comment, “Yes can ask for help from Native American local community, but make sure to vet them.”

The lawsuit also said the board had deliberately removed an educational unit on Arab and Muslim Americans from course materials presented to the public, which the board would have expected to be controversial.

The curricula include “one-sided anti-Israel screeds and propaganda” that say Israel is a racist, settler-colonial state that “stole” land from Palestinians and carries out unprovoked warfare against Palestinians. All but one of the approved classes is currently being taught in the school district, the lawsuit said.

When community members found out about the school board’s decisions and appeared at a board meeting, they were subjected to harassment and intimidation, the lawsuit said, claiming the board failed to adequately protect members of the public at the hearing, in another violation of the Brown Act.

At a general board meeting on May 23, members of the public employed harsh anti-Israel rhetoric that included antisemitic tropes and threatening language. An audience member told a Jewish speaker to “go home, colonizer,” drawing a light-handed request for quiet from the board, but no further action. One Jewish student said she had been followed to her car and harassed after the meeting, and others said they had been called “racists” and “killers.”

In a response to complaints, the board denied any legal violations and said no “cure or correction is necessary,” prompting the plaintiffs to take legal action. The lawsuit stressed that the groups did not take issue with ethnic studies, but sought more balance and public input in their curricula.

The lawsuit led by the Brandeis Center was filed in California’s Superior Court for Orange County. The plaintiffs have asked the court to void the decisions and board approvals by the school district and to compel the school board to abide by the law in the future.

The Santa Ana Unified School District is the second largest in Orange County with around 45,000 students, 5,000 employees, and an $890 million budget, according to the district’s website. The district’s board members did not respond to a request for comment.

The Brandeis Center filed the suit with its local membership arm, Southern Californians for Unbiased Education. Other local groups including the Jewish Federation of Orange County, congregations, rabbis and Hebrew schools also submitted support for the lawsuit. The Jewish Federation of Orange County earlier this year said the courses were “a direct assault on the Jewish community,” with defamatory accusations of ethnic cleansing and colonialism.

The lawsuit follows years of wrangling over ethnic studies courses in California schools, and amid a number of lawsuits aiming to protect Jewish, Zionist and Israeli students on US college campuses. Title VI of the Federal Civil Rights Act of 1964 protects Jewish students at federally funded schools and colleges from discrimination and harassment, including over their connection to Israel.

A California law set to go into effect in the 2025-2026 school year will require high school students to complete a one-semester ethnic studies course. The law prohibits schools from using curricula that include bias against any person or group.

Before the law passed in 2021, the course content was subject to years of debate, and criticism from Jewish groups, which said its early drafts included one-sided criticism of Israel, but no sections on American Jews. Later drafts took some of these concerns into account, but districts are not required to follow the state’s recommended curricula.

#california #anti israel curricula #the jewish question #lawsuit

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Twin Flame - Chapter 26: "Eyes Open"

"Everybody's waiting for you to breakdown. Everybody's watching to see the fallout..."

"Karli!" Sam bellows, you and Bucky following on his heels as you finally make it to the designated coordinates. 

She pokes her head up from the balcony of the seemingly abandoned building. Her head tilts to its side with calculated grin, "I thought I told you to come alone. 

"You called my sister, that's how we're going to play this?" Sam sneers. 

"I would never hurt her," Karli assures him. She looks between you and Sam, now standing side by side, "I just wanted to understand the two of you."

"Well, here's a crazy idea, you ask!" you incredulously remark.

"The Power Broker had it right then. About the two of you," Karli gestures between the two of you. "You're not romantic-"

"Gross," you and Sam simultaneously respond. 

"But you're more than friends," Karli continues. "The Power Broker's file was right about a lot of it, now that I think about it. It's why you're all here. Together."

"Does everyone have files on us? Is that a thing now? Are we allowed to see these files?" you rhetorically ask. 

"End this. Now," Sam demands.

"I don't want to hurt you," Karli offers. "You're just a tool in the regimes I'm looking to destroy. You're not hiding behind a shield. If I were to kill you, it'd be meaningless. I was going to ask you to join me. Or do the world a favor and let me go."

"I will teach you," you blurt. 

Karli's eyes snap over to you, clearly taken aback by your offer. "What?"

"This is not the plan," Sam hisses under his breath. "I repeat, not the plan."

"You haven't been able to figure it all out, right? I'll teach you," you offer once more. You slowly pad to the bottom of the staircase that Karli stands atop of. "I'll teach you, but you can't hurt anyone anymore."

Her eyes narrow at you, cynicism laced in each of her words, "And what's in it for you?"

"No one else gets hurt. This war, it ends. Now."

"Have you always been such a pacifist?" she poses.

"If you don't hurt anymore people, I will go with you. Everything I know, you'll know. I'll be your Prometheus."

Karli's glare softens incrementally, and for a moment you're certain you're getting through to her again. When out of nowhere, Sam's eyes snap to you from the small screen on his wrist, "It's Walker." 

When you look back to the top of the stairs where Karli stood seconds ago, she's gone. Already running to her next location. "You know for a kid, she's really fast."

"I'll send you the location. Go!" Sam sharply instructs, taking off through the open rooftop.

"I'll follow Sam," you call after Bucky. 

"How are gonna-"

But before he can finish his question, you reach out to the brick and mortar pillar in front of your. And with a slight rumble, footholds appear along the bricked pattern. Bucky looks on in complete wonderment as you scale to the top of the awning in no time at all. You reach out for the awning, lurching forward and hauling yourself up along the rooftop. To follow Sam, just like you said. 

With his neck craned up, he watches your skilled movements get you up onto the roof in no time at all. He stares up in awe with an uncharacteristically proud smile on his face, he quietly marvels, "Wow."

You look back down at the ground from the rooftop to see Bucky standing there with an odd look on his face. "What are you doing? Go!"

He jolts, shaking his head, "Oh, right!"

You watch as he takes off before taking off yourself across the rooftops. You follow him, bounding across rooftops as you track the faint white engine marks left by Sam's wings until the moment he nose dives for Karli's next location.

Once you reach the building Sam dove towards, you splay your hand across the large widowed ceiling. Within a second, cracks start forming, all centering around your hand. You turn your head away, squeezing your eyes shut when you hear the glass shatter with a large, fragmented pop. 

You stare down the now gaping hole in the ceiling and with a shrug, you leap down into the building. 

"And superhero landing," you exclaim, only to turn and face an empty room. You grumble to yourself, "And of course, no one was here to see that. Am I really the first one here? I hate being the first one."

"I wouldn't worry about that," a familiar voice rings out from above you. You whirl around to see 5 of Flag Smashers, including Karli, lurch down from their platform. "This is your last chance. Stand down."

"Alright, this doesn't seem very fair," you state, all the Flag Smashers slowly closing in on you. "For you guys, I mean."

"Cocky," Karli comments. "You really are an Avenger."

You stand in the center of the room, allowing the Flag Smashers to circle you. They all remain masked except for Karli. "I am not your enemy, Karli."

"You're either with the cause or against it."

You shake your head, raising your hands to signal your neutrality. "It's not that simple, Karli. You have to know that. You've seen war. There is no glory, There are no winners."

"Yes, there are. Do you know what this place is?" You look around the room to take in your surroundings. Old metal cots line the walls of the room. Tables with scattered papers and old medical supplies are strewn everywhere. "It's an infirmary. Abandoned once your little friends decided that we weren't worth the money to keep alive."

"I'm sorry, Karli."

She lowers her mask with a glower, "I don't want your apologies, they mean nothing to me. Just stay out of our way."

"You see," you wince apologetically. "I've always been sorta bad at the staying out of it thing."

Karli hums apathetically, shrugging her shoulders as she defensively raises her hands. "I figured as much."

Though you've dropped your hands, you refuse to raise them, instead purposefully keeping them tucked at your sides. "I won't fight you, Karli."

A flame emerges in her hand, "Then this should be really easy."

"Guys," you try talking into the comms device Sharon gave the three of you in Madripoor. "Now would be a really great time for you guys to show up."

"What? No backup this time," Karli chuckles.

With no reply or even an indication that the device in your ear was even working, you decide you're on your own for now.

"I already told you that it wasn't much of a fair fight," you quip, a bubble of water slowly pooling in your fingertips. 

You can tell she wants to ask you how you did that. How you knew that moisture in the air was almost always an option instead of always choosing raging flames. She doesn't ask, instead she snorts, "You and your little bubble of water?" 

In your peripheral, you see one of the Flag Smashers prepare themselves to lunge at you. You duck down as they lunge, their extended arms harmlessly passing over you. They smack against the stone pillar just behind you. The water freezes the second the water bubble smacks against the stone, freezing their hand to the one of the stone pillars and rendering them immobile.

"How did you-?"

"I've got plenty more tricks, Karli. Please, just let me help you," you implore, pleading with every once of genuity you can muster. "You are not the villain in this story. Don't let them make you one."

"You had your chance."

Before she can act, John storms in with Sam right behind him. Her eyes snap over your shoulder at the sight of John Walker. She wastes no time before throwing a knife in his direction.

As the knife flies past you, it sharply curves downward, landing with the blade embedding itself into the floor less than a foot away from him.

"This is the part where you say thank you," you snark.

"You okay?" Sam asks you, the three of you still outnumbered by the Flag Smashers. 

"I'm fine," you promise. "But they're really not backing down this time."

"They took Lemar. They threatened Sarah and the boys... " Sam quietly seethes, his eyes scanning over that room. "Hold on, why is that guy that guy frozen to a column?"

"No time for questions, Sam," you quickly reply, watching John lunge for Karli. 

"Where is he? Where's Lemar?" John furiously demands, dodging Karli's first fiery swing at him. 

"Oh look, there's Lemar," you exclaim, pointing to a side door that Lemar bolts in through followed by Bucky. "Bucky too. Anyone else we're missing?"

John immediately releases Karli, focusing his attention on Lemar. He sprints over to Lemar, clearly a little rattled by being kidnapped by the Flag Smashers. "Are you okay? What happened? What'd they do to you?"

"I'm okay," Lemar assures John, wiping dried blood from the corner of his mouth. 

While the other Flag Smashers continue their assault, Karli watches for a moment as the Flag Smasher with the frozen hand delivers one final blow to the column that holds them captive. She sees you overtake one Flag Smasher with ease, pinning them down with bent metal framing that belonged to one of the old infirmary beds. 

Bucky struggles, trying to out maneuver a different Flag Smasher. They were barely outnumbered now. And they couldn't sustain the fight against experience and skillful knowledge.

John, no longer distracted by the Lemar's reappearance, lunges for Karli, but his attack is circumvented by her second in command shoving him away. 

Just as it looks like John's losing his fight, and the tides might now be turning in their favor, you quickly leave the now restrained Flag Smasher to help John.

She knew it wouldn't be long before you took down another one of her friends.

She, now truly concerned about how the odds were stacking against her, looks back to the Flag Smasher fighting Bucky, just in time to see the large beam behind Bucky crack once at the top. Your eyes widen as you see the column begin to fall over Bucky. You sharply gasp, leaving John to fend for himself while you help Bucky.

Karli's face lights up with an idea. She drives her hand in the direction of the pillar opposite from you. A crack runs up from the very top to the bottom.

Bucky looks up to see the large stone hovering less than a foot above him. His eyes, now wide with shock, snap back to your focused, determined expression, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," you grunt, clearly strained under the weight of the marble beam. Just as you're about to let the column still suspended mid-air down, you hear another violent cracking noise from the stone behind you. Before this one can collapse, you take hold of that one too. Before you can drop the beam that almost killed Bucky, yet another beam starts fissuring under the Flag Smasher's assault. It doesn't take long before you realize their strategy: keep your hands full while they overtake Sam and Bucky. You frantically call out to the room, "Are any of these structural?" 

"I don't think so," Bucky grits out, trying to fend off the Flag Smasher that stands in front of him holding uncontrolled flames in both his hands. 

You shrug, letting the one of the now three falling columns to the floor. Just as you let it go, a large piece of the stone archway collapses with it. A loud boom reverberates through the room as the stone smashes against the floor, leaving a giant cratered surface where it landed. "Okay, they're definitely structural."

"Can I get any help here?" Sam shouts, two Flag Smashers slowly ganging up on him.  

"Do you want help or do you want to not get crushed by these stupid columns?"

"You could just say that you're busy, you know that?" Sam rants.

"I'm busy!" you bellow. You stand there, too focused on keeping the columns upright to notice John Walker leave Lemar to finish off the Flag Smasher. He closes in from behind you. You're still only half paying attention to him as his hand wraps around your bicep with a death grip. A wince leaves your mouth, but you know you can't break concentration without the building at least partially coming down on you all. "What the hell are you doing?" 

"You're as much of a threat as Karli Morgenthau," he spits. "I'm not letting you get away either."

"Are you seriously threatening me after I just saved your life like half a second ago?" You try to wrench your arm out of his hold, only for him to squeeze it even harder. You jaggedly hiss, "Seriously, what is your problem?"

"You," John sneers. "You're my problem."

"You really need to get your priorities straight," you sarcastically remark. "Now back off, John. I'm not your enemy here." 

"What? Not going to fight back?" he taunts. "No more threats?"

"You're like weirdly obsessed with me, you know that?"

But that's not what strikes John as odd. It's that you don't do anything. Even as he stands there right in your face.

You don't do anything.

With another clenching of his fist, you forcefully state, still desperately trying to stay focused on keeping the heavy stone pillars from crashing to the floor and the building along with it, "This building's going to come down without me. Back off."

You can see realization light up John's face: you can't fight.

At least, not in the traditional sense. You always tried, but you'd never really had the time to learn. Natasha taught you some basic self defense, but that was all you had in your arsenal.

You also hated it. Hated the idea of putting your hands on someone to incapacitate. You liked to stay away, letting familiar powers course through you. It was more familiar, more comfortable, like an extension of yourself.

And even those, you tried to use only when necessary in a fight. 

"I don't think I will." He checks his shoulder into you, mostly to test his theory. With your focus broken for the second that you're stumbling against John's hard shove, more cracks form into each of the columns, making it even more difficult to keep them upright.

You harshly exhale under the immense strain. "You'd let Karli go, let the Flag Smashers get away for pride?"

"For justice." The moment the words leave John's mouth, he shoves you into the pillar behind you. Your concentration breaks in that moment, and you're not even paying attention to the sounds of stone crashing against the tiled floors that reverberate through the room. You groan, a searing pain radiating through the shoulder that just crashed into the heavy stone. A pained groan leaves your mouth as you double over, clutching your shoulder. He hauls you back up by the same injured shoulder. "You know what I think, I think you're all bark and no bite. I think, deep down, you're still the same scared little girl Nick Fury had to rescue all those years ago."

And then, John reaches out to grip your chin.

And in that moment, it's like you're dropped in a new yet eerily familiar scene. John's right in that sense.

You're reverted back to that person who didn't know the outside world even existed. You're the person held in captivity, never destined to see the light of day, let alone take a freeing breath of fresh air. Standing before you is no longer John Walker, but the same captors told you that you were an evolutionary mistake, a blight of this earth, a monster.

While you told yourself and everyone else that most of those memories were long repressed once you were freed, that's simply not the truth. Not with the way the scene so vividly replays itself in your mind.

You'd curled into yourself, tucked yourself tightly into a ball to protect your most vital organs. You begged them to stop. You told them you'd give anything. Heavy boots dealt blow after blow, you could almost feel your ribcage cracking. 

And for one miraculous moment, it stopped. 

You knew better than to relish in the moment free of pain. But you always did. 

You coughed, blooding dribbling down your chin. Your captor reached up, dragging you up to your feet by your chin.

And with pain and fear mixing in your bloodstream, you stop him in the only way you can think to.

"What the hell-" Sam remarks when one of the stone columns suddenly starts collapsing.

Sam leaps out of the way. The rest of Sam's indignant remark dies on his mouth when he sees John's hand stopped an inch away from your face. John's hand trembles, clearly wanting to defy the way his body is moving of its own accord.

Without anything touching him, it's like he remains frozen as his hands shakily try to reach for you. His feet unnatural drag against the floor away from you. "What are you doing to me?"

"Just stop, okay? Just stop hurting me," you shakily mutter.

"Did you know she could do that?" Bucky murmurs under his breath.

Sam solemnly shakes his head, "No."

Bucky delivers a boot to the chest of the Flag Smasher standing in front of him, now desperate to make his way over to you. 

The building thunders, the entire infrastructure rattling as the last column plummets. You Jolt away from your stupor, the current moment rushing back in. You look around you, Sam still watching you with a shocked expression, John Walker now standing pinned against the pillar he just threw you into, and Lemar trying to protect himself against flames being waved in his face. 

"This building's coming down," you loudly warn the entire room. "We need to get out. Now!"

Before John can recover, a Flag Smasher jumps at him from behind. With a piece of metal framing in the Flag Smashers hand, he presses it against John's throat, with both hands he pulls it as hard as he can, suffocating John.  

"Lemar, don't-" you shout, Lemar immediately jumping in to save John.

But before you can finish your warning, Lemar lunges for the Flag Smasher crushing John's windpipe with a metal pipe. Before Lemar can see it in his peripheral, Karli shoves him from the side and into one of the fallen columns. 

Lemar reaches out to catch himself as he stumbles toward the ground, but his fate is sealed by the fallen column behind him. 

His head smacks against the fallen column with a bone chilling thump.

For a second, it all stops. Like all the air has somehow left the room, there's not even the sound of a single breath. Lemar's head slumps back against the stone, his open eyes now lifeless and his body completely unmoving.

"Lemar," John calls, shoving the Flag Smasher away from him. The Flag Smasher backs away without a fight. John reaches Lemar's lifeless body, desperately shaking him, "Come on, Lemar. You gotta get up."

A quiet gasp escapes Karli's mouth. She stumbles back, a startled, terrified look on her face. She looks to you with wide eyes and a slight tremble of her open mouth. 

For that split second, she doesn't look like the leader of a rebel organization, she just looks like a kid.

You take a small step towards her, reaching your hand out to her with a small, "Karli,"

Your voice breaks her out of her stupor, and she bolts at the sound. She whirls around on her heels, vaulting herself over the banister and onto the next flight of stairs. To the side of you, the ceiling starts crumbling away, concaving on itself. 

You follow her, vaulting yourself over the railing. A well timed burst of air cushions most of the fall, but you're left dodging large chunks of stone that start collapsing ever faster. 

You squint your eyes, trying to see through the puffs of dust and rubble now tainting the air. You look through both exits, one left, one right. And make your best bet. 

You take the left, running out into the street in hopes of finding her;

Crowds of people line the streets. You crane your neck to try and get a glimpse of her signature curly hair, but you see nothing. Not a trace of her. You hiss, "Damn it."

You shake your head, ready to turn back to the building to find Sam and Bucky, only to see the exit you came out of now blocked by mounds of concrete and other rubble. 

Sharp whispers and frantic murmurs line the streets. People begin congregating around the other exit on the other side of the building. 

In the crowd, you see Sam and Bucky both facing whatever is captivating the crowd. "Guys, I lost her."

Neither of them turn around. It's then you notice almost the entire crowd is holding their phones up, all of them pointed in one very specific direction. "Guys?"

You walk around to take a look at what everyone is staring at. And that's when you see it.

John Walker standing with the shield bloodied in his hand. A lifeless Flag Smasher at his feet. Blood pools around John's feet as he scans the crowd. Anger and frustration paint John's expression, nowhere do you see any remorse. 

You sharply gasp, whirling yourself around to look away from the body.

Without any thought, you tuck your face into Bucky's shoulder. Your eyes squeeze shut and your firsts clench as you try to erase the image of the man killed by John Walker.

Bucky raises his hand, cupping the back of your head as though comforting you is second nature. He gently strokes the back of your head and quietly murmurs words of affirmation, "It's okay."

"Shit," Sam exhales, looking up at plumes of dust and rubble still emerge from the building. The new Captain America standing with a murdered body at his feet. It was the very definition of an international incident. In that moment, he knew, the world was watching. "You gotta go."

"What?" Bucky sharply demands. "We have to go after him!"

You reluctantly tear yourself away from Bucky, scanning the street to see recording phones still lining the street. You shake your head, "No, he means me."

Sam pulls the hood of your sweater up and over your head, "Keep your head down. Call Torres. Send me your location and we'll meet you after we find John."

You sigh in defeat, knowing you were out of options, "Okay."

"What the hell aren't you guys telling me?" Bucky asks, his eye frantically flickering between you and Sam.

You squeeze Bucky's hand before you turn to leave, "I'll explain later. Promise. You guys go."

"Be safe."

"I will."

The Twin Flame Chapter List AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

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[eighteenoheight]

The vague stories of Mia Winters

Thought I’d go for a punchy title for this here tirade. Because much like any conversations Ethan tried to have with her, Mia as a character is all half-answered questions.

I’ve seen a lot of fans of the Resident Evil series really dislike Mia. For being a bio-terrorist, what her lies and deceit did to Ethan, never giving a straight answer. There’s so much drama surrounding her but we still haven’t gotten much of an explanation. Shadows of Rose concluded the Winters’ story for now, yet as is now common for Mia, I have a lot of questions. I haven’t been given enough information or backstory to know exactly or even partially what Mia’s deal is. Where does she fall on the morality scale?

The Connections are a gross organisation that, despite being a huge player in the last two games, has been flying under the radar this entire time. As someone working for these bitches, Mia would have absolutely spilled the beans on every last detail to the BSAA, otherwise there’s no way she would have gone unpunished to live in “safety” with Ethan. She clearly knew way more than we do at this point in the series for whatever reasons. Maybe we will find this out at some point, but as it stands now where is the truth?

Another part of why it’s hard to get a read on Mia’s character is we still don’t know what her motivations were, or her level of involvement in The Connections and the creation of Eveline. Did she know Evie’s true purpose? It’s a slightly rhetorical question because she most likely did but Mia girl, you’ve had enough time to tell us what’s going on. Stop keeping secrets ffs. And as for the BSAA keeping quiet about her involvement, she must have given a LOT of details in order for them to not only give her a free pass for bio-terrorism, but also keep Ethan in the dark about how much she truly knew about what was going on. She was a risk to his life, and ultimately paid that price in the end. And because they never let him know, his blood is on their hands. And I want to know for sure, did the BSAA relocate the Winters’ because the connections were after them because they got infected and experienced all that, or because Mia worked for them and needed to be dealt with? Will we ever know the truth? And if my theory is correct that the BSAA were using them as bait for The Connections, would this be revealed in the next game and how would Mia react to this after it cost Ethan his life? Sure she has her responsibility in what happened but, again, the BSAA played a huge role.

Despite the Winters’ story allegedly being over, I can’t see how this era of the story is going to continue without Mia. She has to be around in some form, likely through files or recordings. She’s the only link to the illusive company that we know of so there has to be more to her story than what we’ve been given. Because fans are still stuck on whether she’s a villain, a hero, an anti-hero, whatever she is, answers need to be given, otherwise we’ll be stuck wondering forever.

Also big shoutout to Katie O’Hagan because her voice acting was phenomenal and I don’t think she gets enough credit because Mia’s character is so confuddling.

Did I repeat myself in numerous places because I put this dissertation away a few times and add bits when they popped into my head? Probably most likely. We’ll just say I’m trying to heavily emphasise what I’m talking about even though we both know it’s because I don’t read what I write out and forget. I like doing these kind of word vomming essays on an interest because while writing this out I had another big thought. Very excited.

#resident evil #Mia winters #should refresh my knowledge on the whole situation because I forget #get it together mia I need answers #please just tell us what’s going on