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empiredesimparte · 1 year

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Pierre, Minister of the Interior: The recent events have pacified the demonstrations in Francesim. There were about 400 arrests on the national territory, half of which led to the creation of a criminal record. There was a lot of destruction during those days.

Napoléon V: Prime Minister gave me the profile of the rioters. Have we identified those who blew up the Emperor's car? Pierre: No, Your Majesty, we have a dozen suspects but we cannot prove who really initiated this action.

Napoléon V: How are we going to proceed with the trial? Will the Paris court summon these people together to court for the same reason of regicide? Jeanne: The investigation by the prosecutor, Monsieur Ernest de Tour, is proceeding for the moment, Your Majesty. He is working under pressure.

Jeanne: The Prime Minister didn't wish to introduce you to Monsieur de Tour during the Great Mourning.

Pierre: We are doing everything in our power to bring justice as quickly as possible to His Majesty and the French people. If we wish to speed up the proceedings, we could charge one of the suspected protesters more specifically and…

Napoléon V: No, justice will be done properly. We will wait as long as it takes. I don't want to throw innocent people in prison to satisfy one party or another. Jeanne: I agree with His Majesty.

Pierre: We are also awaiting the testimony of Madame Mère.

Napoléon V: Is it necessary? This night has made her suffer enormously and she was fainting.

Jeanne: Minister, be more indulgent, the imperial family is still suffering from the latest events.

Pierre: The longer we wait, the more the investigation will be mishandled, the evidence destroyed, the testimony blurred. Time is of the essence for the forces of law and order.

Jeanne: That's not the point. We all want the same thing.

Pierre: For the safety of the State, Your Majesty, we must conduct the investigation quickly and efficiently. Napoléon V: Monsieur le Procureur Général must receive all the funding he wants, Minister. I'm entrusting the investigation entirely to you. I will talk to the Prime Minister about this when we next meet.

⚜ Le Cabinet Noir | Palais des Tuileries, 2 Floréal An 230

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⚜ Traduction française

Pierre, ministre de l'Intérieur : Les récents événements ont pacifié les manifestations en Francesim. Il y a eu environ 400 interpellations sur le territoire national, dont la moitié ont amené à la création d'un casier judiciaire. Il y a eu beaucoup de destructions ces jours-là.

Napoléon V : Le premier ministre m'a indiqué le profil des casseurs. A-t-on identifié qui a fait exploser la voiture de l'Empereur ? Pierre : Non Votre Majesté, nous avons une dizaine de suspects mais nous ne pouvons prouver qui a réellement initié cette action.

Napoléon V : Comment allons nous procéder pour le jugement ? Le tribunal de Paris va-t-il convoquer ces personnes ensemble à la cour pour le même motif de régicide ? Jeanne : L'enquête du procureur, M. Ernest de Tour, suit son cours pour le moment, Votre Majesté. Il travaille sous pression.

Jeanne : Monsieur le Premier Ministre n'a pas souhaité vous présenter M. de Tour durant le Grand Deuil.

Pierre : Nous faisons tout ce qui est en notre pouvoir pour rendre justice au plus vite auprès de Sa Majesté et du peuple français. Si nous souhaitons accélérer les procédures, nous pourrions inculper plus spécifiquement l'un des manifestants soupçonnés et...

Napoléon V : Non, la justice sera rendue correctement. Nous attendrons autant de temps qu'il le faudra. Je ne veux pas jeter en prison des innocents pour satisfaire un parti ou un autre. Jeanne : Je suis d'accord avec Sa Majesté.

Pierre : Nous attendons par ailleurs le témoignage de Madame Mère

Napoléon V : Est-il nécessaire ? Cette nuit l'a énormément fait souffrir et elle était évanouie.

Jeanne : M. le ministre, soyez plus indulgent, la famille impériale souffre encore des derniers événements.

Pierre : Plus nous attendrons plus l'enquête sera malmenée, les preuves détruites, les témoignages flous. Le temps compte pour les forces de l'ordre.

Jeanne : Ce n'est pas la question. Nous voulons tous la même chose.

Pierre : Pour la sûreté de l'Etat, Votre Majesté, nous devons mener l'enquête rapidement et efficacement. Napoléon V : M. le Procureur Général doit recevoir tout le financement qu'il souhaite, Mme la Ministre. Je vous confie l'enquête entièrement. J'en parlerai au Premier Ministre lors de notre prochaine rencontre.

#simparte #gen 2 #sim : louis #ts4 royal #royal simblr #sims 4 fr #sims 4 royal #ts4 #sims 4 #sims 4 royalty #le cabinet noir #sims 4 royal story #sims 4 royal family #ts4 royal legacy #ts4 royals #ts4 royal simblr #ts4 royalty #tuileries

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writingforatwistedworld · 2 years

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Mon chéri,

At first glance one doesn’t give you much thought, and I feel like that is something that you aim for. I can imagine you prance into people’s lives without a second thought and turn their worlds upside, like you did mine. I can never predict you next step no matter how much I’d try. Rook, please don’t stalk me?

Reader got sent to twst world

I do not speak French and used google translator. If there are errors please correct me.

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsessive behavior, manipulation, blood, murder, unhealthy relationship

Rook Hunt-Your loyal servant

Leaving class you were about to head home. Whilst walking you looked around, searching for the hunter that had been following you the last few months. After a while, you had gotten used to the feeling of being watched which only lessened, not stopped, after giving Rook that letter. But today was different. Today you didn't feel someones eyes burning holed into your back and face. Today you felt, for the first time in what felt like eternity, completely alone. The wonderful silence was interrupted when you heard the voice of the dorm leader of Pomfiore calling out your name. Walking up to you the young man gave you a letter whilst glaring at the paper as if it had bitten him. And that was your conversation for the day. Entering the home the paper felt heavier than your entire school bag to you. After opening it you finally read it.

Mon amour,

I deeply apologize! It was not my intention to make you feel uncomfortable by following you. Quel choc! I would never dare to do so a d yet, this admirer of yours seems to have done that. No apology is good enough so that you could ever forgive me for I have broken a taboo. Something never to be touched. Non! For days in felt like floating in cloud nine. Watching you sleep, eat, study and so much more was of great delight for me. Yet I neglected your view on the situation. Je suis une honte!

For that reason I do not dare to deliver this letter to you personally. If you wish so I could disappear from your world forever. The thought of such a thing alone pains me but I would rather have it that we were separated by worlds than you hating me. I am nothing more than a criminal who dared to make you uncomfortable. Je mérite que les cieux me punisse eux-mêmes! Punish me however you wish to! Take away my bow, take away my arrows but do not hold back. My soul must be darker than the night. Such a ugly sight!

All my life I trained so that I could be of use to you but in truth, I am the greatest nuisance that has ever dared to break into your circle. What a fool I am! Non, o am even below that. My foolishness is something I need to fix and even then I would never be able to bask in your light again. Allow me to sink into the dark for there is the only right place for me.

If you ever were to forgive this hunter I would do anything to prove that it wasn't for naught. Laisse mon arc être ton serviteur. My services are yours and yours alone. Allow me to strike those down that dated to do the same thing or even worse than I did. Eye for an eye. Tooth for a tooth. There is no redemption besides punishing those that dared to darken the sun. There is no need for you to dirty your hands. Let me do that part. Even if you were a criminal searched all over the world I would still follow you. Your last friend. Your only servant. Unlike most I will never step down from my duties. Whether it be bringing you someones heart or delivering a poisoned apple, I would do it without question.

Because I am your loyal hunter even in the face of death. I shall follow this calling forever.

But mon amour, has the thought ever occurred to you that someone might harm you? This world is filled with vile beasts in human form, or close to human, that would live to keep you for themselves, robbing the world of you. Sadly, I have to tell you that such beasts also exist here in our school. If you were to forgive me maybe we could come to a agreement? quelle merveilleuse idée! Let me be your guard as well! I shall make sure that no one dares to sully you. You are light. You are life. You are everything that I love.

So please don't abandon me! Turn me into a pet if that is the punishment you deem worthy but let me stay close! You need my protection just as much I need you! I swear on my honor that I never watched you Iin too private moments. I am doing this just to protect you!

Always yours,

Rook Hunt

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #self aware au #yandere rook x reader #yandere rook hunt #tw: yandere #tw: manipulation #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: blood #tw: murder

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pedanther · 1 year

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I feel that "during trial" really doesn't capture the spirit here:

Les grandes douleurs sont tellement vénérables, qu'il n'est pas d'exemple, même dans les temps les plus malheureux, que le premier mouvement de la foule réunie n'ait pas été un mouvement de sympathie pour une grande catastrophe. Beaucoup de gens haïs ont été assassinés dans une émeute; rarement un malheureux, fût-il criminel, a été insulté par les hommes qui assistaient à sa condamnation à mort.

There is something so awe–inspiring in great afflictions that even in the worst times the first emotion of a crowd has generally been to sympathize with the sufferer in a great catastrophe. Many people have been assassinated in a tumult, but even criminals have rarely been insulted during trial.

Great sorrow is so august that, even in the most unfortunate times, there is no case recorded when the first reaction of the mass has not been to sympathize with a great catastrophe. Many hated people have been killed by the mob, but rarely has anyone unfortunate, even a criminal, been attacked by the men who were present when he was condemned to death.

I appreciate that Dumas found a moment, even in the midst of tragedy, to slip in a satirical comment, but I guess the older translator didn't:

Villefort n'était plus cet homme dont son exquise corruption faisait le type de l'homme civilisé

Villefort was no longer the civilized man

Villefort was no longer the man whose exquisite corruption made a model of civilized man

The older translator has a track record of trimming the flights of poetry, but you'd think the climactic motive rant of a revenger's tragedy would be the place to let the poetry take flight (also why, in this of all books, take out a bit about masks?):

Vous m'avez condamné à une mort lente et hideuse, vous avez tué mon père, vous m'avez ôté l'amour avec la liberté, et la fortune avec l'amour! ... Je suis le spectre d'un malheureux que vous avez enseveli dans les cachots du château d'If. À ce spectre sorti enfin de sa tombe Dieu a mis le masque du comte de Monte-Cristo, et il l'a couvert de diamants et d'or pour que vous ne le reconnaissiez qu'aujourd'hui.

You condemned me to a horrible, tedious death; you killed my father; you deprived me of liberty, of love, and happiness. ... I am the spectre of a wretch you buried in the dungeons of the Chateau d’If. God gave that spectre the form of the Count of Monte Cristo when he at length issued from his tomb, enriched him with gold and diamonds, and led him to you!

You condemned me to a slow and frightful death, you killed my father and you deprived me of love at the same time as you deprived me of freedom, and of fortune as well as love! ... I am the spectre of an unfortunate man whom you locked up in the dungeons of the Château d'If. When this spectre finally emerged from its tomb, God put on it the mask of the Count of Monte Cristo and showered it with diamonds and gold so that you should not recognize it until today.

A final note: Neither Buss's translation nor the French text on Project Gutenberg contains the sentence which ends the chapter in the older translation; both end resoundingly on "Pray God that I have not already done too much!"

#the cristo account #the count of monte cristo #chapter 111 #lost in translation #not a reblog

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haikyuuvbc · 1 year

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Do You Comma Here Often? Chapter 35: Is it even finals without coffee?

Chapter 34 Masterlist Chapter 36

Do You Comma Here Often?

Hopefully Effective Taglist

(strikeout means it won’t let me tag you!)

@elianetsantana @anejuuuuoy @chaichai-the-weeb @animeflower26 @faithfulferns @navymacaroons @je-suis-une-criminal @your-consulting-fangirl @samie-babie @euphorihan @aquariarose @sempiternal-amour @crybabbicus @kittyddandnyla @hoe4hq @starryleafy @mint-mai @asdfghjkl7things @runningwitches @iwantmyinsanityback @whosaskingwrites @what-dose-nani-mean @sokeyda @normalisthenewnorm @miyaosamusgf @teeacooper @fandomtrashpandasposts @kageyamasgirl @peteunderoos @reina-de-tay @cuddlesslut @marissaraeblr @camcam1617 @immxnty @alice-greenleaf @liyueharbor @duhsies @ilauvcoldpizza @reina-de-tay @rintarawr @chaoticlyclowning @chantalkate16 @kuroosmikasavolleyball @fly-high-my-love @tanakasimpcorner @toshijimafarms

#akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #akaashi x y/n #akaashi smau #akaashi social media au #haikyuu smau #haikyuu #haikyuu social media au #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n

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bourbon-ontherocks · 2 years

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(Précédemment, dans le Cœur a ses raisons rewatch HPI...)

Je suis tellement désolée. Ce post est parti complètement en roue libre. La faute à mon incapacité à ne PAS épiloguer sur le moindre détail, j’imagine...

Comme ça n’a aucun sens de démarrer sur une séquence où le mec écoute du Bach vu qu’on apprend après que ce qui l’intéresse, ce sont surtout les courses hippiques, je choisis de commencer cet épisode sur la la scène suivante, à savoir Karadec qui se montre incroyablement supportive de Morgane re sa mère, et Morgane qui se montre incroyablement vulnérable re ladite mère. Cool cool cool cool. Je viens de commencer cet épisode et j’ai déjà envie d’aller m’allonger. See this was a bad idea actually 🥵

Karadec qui souhaite le plus sérieusement du monde “bonne chance” à Morgane quand elle va voir la compta est une réplique criminally underrated. La delivery de Mehdi Nebbou est impeccable 😂

Je sais qu’on s’en fout mais la tirade sur la requête SQL n’a absolument aucun sens. Just so you know.

Morgane qui fait éclater son chewing-gum, suivi de “Qui est cette personne ?” “C’est une, heu, consultante.” mais tu vois toute la force avec laquelle Karadec subit, c’est magnifique

Ok donc on commence direct avec une meuf dont l’ex était un écolo permaculteur en reconnexion avec la nature. Tiens donc... Et il s’intéressait aux grenouilles arboricoles, aussi ? 🤔 Non mais dites-le tout de suite que ce show torture Morgane à littéralement chaque épisode en fait...

Morgane d’ailleurs qui parle quand même de sa prostate à Karadec dès l’épisode 3. Finalement, en contexte, qu’elle l’interroge sur sa vie sexuelle dans le 204, c’était pas du tout intrusif !

Morgane qui flirte unilatéralement avec Bonnemain devant Karadec ça fait partie de mes petits moments guilty pleasure de ce show, c’est tellement drôle !! 🤩

Morgane “C’est bon, j’sais me tenir *crache son chewing-gum*” Alvaro my beloved 😍

Je kiffe comment Karadec prend son temps et réaligne trois fois son stylo en ignorant l’avocat de Grandgeon... De façon générale je kiffe voir Karadec interroger des gens, le jeu d’acteur de Mehdi est incroyable à chaque fois 💯

Morgane et Adam qui se gueulent dessus, c’est quand même un must 🥲

Mouais, alors le voisin photographe qui cherche des “jeunes filles dégourdies” et accessoirement mineures, comment dire... à la place de Morgane, j’aurais dit non aussi ^^

Oubliez tout, Théa x négocier avec sa mère est mon nouvel OTP 😍

Morgane qui sort à Florence “Vous allez me mettre dans la merde” alors que c’est ELLE qui est allée la chercher et qui lui propose de l’héberger est profondément fascinant, la meuf se met dans la merde toute seule et elle en a conscience en plus, mais va savoir pourquoi elle se dit qu’elle y est pour rien...

“T’as pas d’amis, maman” -> Théa je t’aime 💕

Ce show s’auto-trolle, c’est pas possible, dans la scène de la compta, sur l’enveloppe ils mettent que Morgane habite au 26 et Karadec frappe au 27, ils arrivent à se contredire dans un MÊME épisode, je -- je suis démunie là 🤦

“Z’avez encore un truc à vous faire pardonner, vous” je suis TELLEMENT fan de cette scène pour ce qu’elle implique dans la dynamique Morgane/Adam même aussi tôt dans la série, et aussi parce qu’on veut PLUS d’interactions Théa / Adam, Cypriane et Mehdi ont une dynamique de jeu incroyable 🤩🤩

Morgane qui panique sur le parking quand Karadec débarque, c’est les même vibes que la Dame du Lac en mode “mais vous pouvez pas abandonner la quête du Graal et les dieux !” 😱

Perso je suis très partagée sur les scènes d’action dans HPI... D’un côté elles sont profondément ridicules, mal jouées, mal timées, mais de l’autre, j’ai un soft spot pour Action!Karadec (et clairement Morgane aussi, alors si ça peut être un catalyseur de libido Brosse Adam-esque moi je dis oui 🪥🪥🪥)

Morgane qui veut se réconcilier avec Karadec... Adam qui lui hurle dessus, mais qui ensuite est tout fier de lui expliquer qu’il a fait un achat intelligent parce qu’il est un maniaque des statistiques sur la délinquance... Morgane qui swoone littéralement parce qu’il a eu une bonne idée... C’est donc ça, des sapiosexuels ? (ou des moronsexuals, c’est pas très clair à ce stade 🤓🤓)

Alors vous apprendrez que l’immatriculation de la voiture en feu correspond à celle donnée par Céline au début de l’épisode. Tant de cohérence de la part de ce show est extrêmement surprenante, les gars vous êtes sûrs que ça va ?

Karadec qui couvre Morgane devant Céline, je -- something something il lui en veut mais ça reste entre eux, something something I’m protecting you from yourself, something something “il faudrait surtout pas que ça vous retombe dessus” MAIS BORDEL OUVRE LES YEUX MORGANE 😭😭😭

“Bah ouais mais on n’est pas dans Titanic, gars !” aksjdajfioazjojosdijo, j’étais qu’à moitié-sérieuse quand je headcanonnais que c’était le film préféré de Morgane, mais en fait SI !! A raison d’au moins trois références par saison, excusez du peu 😱 🚢

LEURS REGARDS QUI SE CHERCHENT ET SE TROUVENT PRESQUE AVANT DE S’ÉVITER ET L’ÉPISODE QUI SE FINIT LA-DESSUS, OH BOY, COMMENT VOUS VOULIEZ QUE JE NE LES SHIPPE PAS ?????? Je ne vais pas (sur)commenter ce passage sinon on y est encore demain et ce post est déjà totalement hors de contrôle, mais le coeur y est comme on dit 🥵🔥🙊

Boudiou, ça fait quand même trois épisodes de suite sur une (ou des) gamine(s) dont le père meurt... Faut se renouveler un peu, les scénaristes, là !

J’attire votre attention sur le fait qu’un certain Cédric Le Maoût, mieux connu parmi nous sous le nom de Jérôme, est au générique de cet épisode dans le rôle du “Guichetier”. Effectivement, on a affaire à la même personne, aucun doute possible... 🤭

#julia rewatches hpi #tf1 hpi #french post #non mais sérieux comment c'est possible d'oublier au générique qu'on a changé un acteur?#j'ai plus les mots à ce stade

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superiorkenshi · 2 years

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Bon bah askip d'après @riiversndroads je vais en enfer car je cite je suis:

-Arabe

-Pas Cis/Het

-Et un war criminal (à cause de mes fanart et fanfic)

-Pas mis 5 étoiles à Philadelphia

-Parce-que je fais des faute d'orthographe

#kenshi's life #oh sam #PAR CE QUE JE SUIS ARABE #ARABE #CE RACISME #War criminal #on aura tout entendu #JAI J'AMAIS RIEN FAIS DE PAS TRES CATHOLIQUE DANS MES FANFIC AU MOINS #je rêve #arabe #je m'en remet pas #outré #*god must hate me playing in Background*

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rplayeusefeministeetromantique · 2 years

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Netflix

J'ai téléchargé mon historique netflix, et du coup petit récap de ce que j'ai vu, de ce que j'ai aimé ou pas.

PART 1

Reine du Sud ; sympa avec une vrai fin

Extraordinary Attorney Woo ; sympa, c'est léger ça fait plaisir

Les chroniques de Bridgerton ; saison 1 sympa, saison 2 très bof (la façon dont ils créaient du conflit à partir de RIEN m'énerve profondément.)

Izombie ; Très cool jusqu'à la saison 3, après j'ai décroché.

Chicago Med ; Bof... Série pour éteindre le cerveau mais même comme ça...

Lucifer ; sympa, j'aime vraiment beaucoup le perso principal

Criminal ; j'arrive pas à regarder un épisode en entier.

Mr. Iglesias ; Pas accroché, pourtant étant prof moi même je pensais que ça allait me parler.

Space force ; Pas du tout accroché, l'humour me fait pas rire.

Ginny & Georgia ; J'ai été hype par le côté "woke" de la série (je sais que le terme est employé péjorativement mais moi je le prends comme un point positif), mais l'intrigue amoureuse de l'ado m'a très vite soûlée.

Glee ; Ok tiers. Je regarde cette série avec beaucoup de retard, j'ai fais les trois premières saisons mais le côté harcèlement hardcore à l'école devient vite lassant et ridicule.

Brooklyn 99 ; Caviar, une de mes séries préférée et sûrement la meilleure série comique de la décennie.

Arcane ; Une très bonne surprise, je joue à LOL mais je n'en attendais pas grand chose, mais persos attachants, direction artistique exceptionnelle, elle m'a fait vibrée.

Murder ; Meh. Vraiment dommage que la série s'enferme dans son fils rouge, j'appréciais pour une fois de voir des avocats qui défendent aussi des gens coupables, j'aime le côté travaille d'enquête, mais tous le scénario principal m'a soulé j'ai arrêté millieu deuxième saison.

Emily in Paris ; Sympa. Je ne suis pas offensée par les clichés, petite série romantique qui se laisse regarder.

Blue période ; J'ai beaucoup aimé, mais je suis particulièrement touchée par la thématique principale (même si je ne dessine pas comme je suis dans la création artistique).

Modern family ; Pas accroché même comme série pour poser son cerveau.

Le virtuose du tablier ; J'ai beaucoup aimé, même si l'animation est chelou, je trouve ça très drôle!

Squid game ; Meh. Je comprends pas la hype.

New Amsterdam ; Belle surprise, je l'ai lancé en mode série pour poser le cerveau, mais chaque épisode était vraiment intéressant à suivre. J'espère qu'il y aura une prochaine saison !

Mr. Robot ; Pas du tout accroché, le rythme est vraiment lent, le perso principal pas du tout attachant j'ai arrêté au bout de quelques épisodes alors que l'informatique me branche beaucoup.

Luther le mal de soi ; pas accroché, drop après le premier épisode.

Scorpion ; Bonne série pour poser son cerveau (ils font toujours des trucs improbables), je suis déçue qu'il n'y ait jamais de vrai fin, surtout que ça se termine de façon pas cool.

Wakfu ; J'ai kiffé ! J'avais jamais regardé parce que quand j'étais tombée sur les épisodes à la télé j'avais trouvé ça vraiment gamin, mais en fait la série devient très vite mature.

Elite ; Meh j'ai regardé la première saison.

Self-made d'après la vie de Mme CJ Walker ; sympathique

Mindhunter ; sympa, moi qui avait aimé esprit criminel c'est un peu comme regarder l'origin story et ça pose des thématiques intéressantes même si des fois c'est glauque.

Avatar le dernier Maitre de l'air ; j'ai revu cette série avec un immense plaisir, toujours aussi incontournable.

Le jeu de la dame ; Ok tiers

Saiki Kusuo ; J'adore cet anime, il me fait complètement déliré.

The Bride of Habaek ; Ok tiers, j'ai pas finis, j'ai eu la sensation que j'aurais pas le happy ending dont j'avais besoin à l'époque.

Strong girl Bong-soon ; J'ai pas accroché

Cinderella and the 4 knight ; Pas du tout accroché. Je sais que c'est censé reprendre l'histoire de cendrillon et qu'elle en prend plein la tête mais là ça devenait ridicule et les "knight" m'ont soulé.

Triad princess ; J'avais bien aimé mais tous les épisodes étaient pas sorti et puis j'ai oublié et flemme de reprendre maintenant.

#moi #série #netflix

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unhonest-iago · 2 months

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bonne journée des langues qsmp!

j'ai pris trois ans de le français en lycee mais je ne l'utilise pas. je peux écrire en français mais je trouve lire tres difficule. je essay lire gazouillis de etoile quand je voir eux sur mon flux tumblr.

mais une introduction! je m'appelle iago. j'ai vingt-et-une ans. je suis en collège pour justice pénale. c'est un baccalauréat. je écrire fanfiction en mon temps libre. mon préféré membre de qsmp est cellbit. mon préféré œuf de qsmp est chayanne.

cela dit, j'ai hâte de parler avec vous tous.

[traduction anglaise sous la coupe]

happy qsmp languages day!

i took three years of french in high school but i don't use it. i can write in french but i find it very difficult to read. i try reading etoile's tweets when i see them on my tumblr feed.

but a introduction! my name is iago. i am twenty-one years old. i am in college for criminal justice. it is a bachelor's degree. i write fanfiction in my spare time. my favorite qsmp member is cellbit. my favorite qsmp egg is chayanne.

that said, i look forward to talking with you all.

#qsmp language day #le journée des langues qsmp #iago rambles #iago randonnées

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chansonsinternationales · 6 months

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Je suis une femme noire au franc-parler en France – alors un homme puissant a essayé de me faire taire avec la loi | Rokhaya Diallo | Le gardien

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aurianneor · 10 months

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Police and justice for the people

It’s obvious that the rioters, those who burn, steal and commit violence are criminals who must be judged and sentenced in accordance with the law. There is a great deal of trafficking in the suburbs, including drugs. What a temptation when unpunished trafficking is infinitely more profitable than a laborious and unjust search for bad jobs! If the police catch a trafficker, he will most likely be released because the justice system can’t take it any more. And yet it’s normal to want to be heard in a democracy! Why beat on the masses without listening?

There is clearly a problem of unacceptable violent behaviour on the part of the police. Too many people have died as a result of increasingly powerful weapons! Our elected representatives support them from afar with their calls for firmness, but every year they reduce the numbers and resources of the police and the justice system. A patrol that has to share a bullet-proof waistcoat for four officers for 9 days without rest, surrounded by unpunished criminals, is bound to react out of fear. Give them a gun and you guarantee violence and deaths like Nahel’s and all the others that weren’t honoured by the cameras. Yet the police should be guaranteeing the right to demonstrate, guaranteeing the safety of demonstrators by protecting them from rioters and looters. They should be accountable to the people, not to the government.

Let’s not get bogged down in this duality. Pointing out the violence of some does not mean that you are taking sides with the others, and neither group deserves impunity. They deserve justice. However, justice is cruelly lacking in resources and is unable to judge criminals, violent police officers, corrupt elected representatives and billionaires who are killing the planet and monopolising all its resources at the expense of the poorest within an acceptable timeframe. To carry out this justice, we need elected prosecutors who serve the people and not the government.

This will not necessarily be more costly for the citizen, because there is an unlimited resource of “bullshit jobs” in both the public and private sectors, as well as subsidies that could be redeployed in the justice system, the police, education, organic farming and health.

Similarly, in a true democracy, the courts should apply the laws as decided by the people and not just by elected representatives. If the people rise up in revolt, they can use the popular initiative referendum to peacefully settle a political dispute.

To find out more, see On the Phenomenon of Bullshit Jobs: A Work Rant by David Graeber: https://web.archive.org/web/20180807024932/http://strikemag.org/bullshit-jobs/

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Police, Armée: https://www.aurianneor.org/police-armee-manif-des-policiers-je-suis-gilet/

When you have a hammer in your hand everything looks like a nail.:https://www.aurianneor.org/when-you-have-a-hammer-in-your-hand-everything/

Fed up with strikes? Ask for referendums!: https://www.aurianneor.org/fed-up-with-strikes-ask-for-referendums/

Le référendum est une arme qui tue la violence: https://www.aurianneor.org/le-referendum-est-une-arme-qui-tue-la-violence-oui/

Only 4,600 exhausted police officers to supervise the demonstrators: https://www.aurianneor.org/only-4600-exhausted-police-officers-to-supervise/

Police et justice pour le peuple: https://www.aurianneor.org/police-et-justice-pour-le-peuple/

#aurianneor #banlieue #bullshit jobs #democracy #elected representatives #firmness #insurrection #justice #Nahel #people #police #popular initiative referendum #public prosecutor #referendum #rioting demonstrator #violence

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crispy-chan · 3 years

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if it's not too much trouble can you do my name for the mini playlist thing please? its yoelin btw thanks in advance!! (p.s. also I really like your writing)

Of course🥺💓

Y - yayaya (stray kids)

O - ooh aah (twice) the skz cover gives me life

E - epiphany (jin)

L - lie (jimin)

I - I am you (stray kids)

N - neverending story (stray kids) also one of my ult faves

Also tysm !! I’m glad you enjoy it💕💕🤧

#mail 💌#je-suis-une-criminal #hehe the o was hard #but then I remembered jisungs fit in the mama performance for their ooh aah cover #(which is superior by the way)#and I was like bingo #I swear he looked like the cutest McDonald’s employee💓#games 🎲

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rouge-la-flamme · 3 years

Photo

Hugo draws parallels between legal condemnation and spiritual damnation. Japanese Hugo has a different notion of hell, which appears in Valjean’s embittered perspective here. (Transcripts of the text boxes are in quote format below.) The hells are part of a continuum of worlds and beings that stretches to the heavens. Upon death, one is reborn as a higher or lower being according to one’s current balance of good and evil deeds: one’s karma. To Javert, this means that a ruler is born a ruler because he deserves it. (This idea functions for Japanese Javert like the divine right of kings functions for French Javert.) And if one is born in the gutter? That too is an accurate reflection of one’s merit. Valjean finds this unjust.

Long imprisonment is rare in Tokugawa Japan. Typical sentences are less than a year…yet life expectancy in prison is shorter still. [1] The single extended sentence of French Valjean thus becomes a series of short sentences, escapes—urgently necessary for Japanese Valjean, to save his very life—and re-arrests. Japanese Valjean compares these stages to successive lives, just as French Valjean’s pre- and post-bagne periods are compared to earthly life and hellish afterlife. Here are his musings…

Born as a horse, you’re born with a job. You’re fed and need never steal.

Horses are strongly associated with the ruling classes in this AU, in a way that will play into Valjean’s and Javert’s own animal symbolism. A steed is part of samurai identity; a commoner is not supposed to ride. [2] As Valjean observes, horses are exclusively working animals, constantly in high demand.

Born as a dog, you can choose—hunt the streets or earn your keep as a guard.

The identity of canines in Tokugawa Japan is situational and behavioral, not genetic. [3] Canines occupy the borderland between civilization and wilderness, and live as vivid symbols of that border in the popular psyche. A canine of the wilderness is a wolf; a canine living among humans is a dog. Most urban dogs are wild: they form packs and establish hunting territory, behaving rather like a human gang. Some are domesticated enough to become guard dogs. They stay outside the house. None are beloved pets. Javert, that canine soul, knows that his status closes society’s doors to him; he has chosen to be a guard dog instead of a wolf.

Born as a rat—who will give you work? You steal or you starve. Every bite a sin, so you’re never born better. Like me. Every crime condemns me to commit another. I am not even a dog!

(Valjean’s anguished “Je ne suis pas même un chien!” is, of course, originally from his eviction from a dog’s hovel—the second image in this page.)

Just as French Valjean curses the god that created the society that condemned him, Japanese Valjean curses the Buddhist cosmic system and the society built in its image—both (he thinks) designed to make a fall from grace permanent. Needless to say, Myriel (head of a Buddhist temple in this AU) has a different vision of the cosmos, which will alter Valjean’s perspective.

[1] Juiciest source here besides the indispensable Botsman (Punishment and Power…): Wright, “Female Crime and State Punishment in Early Modern Japan.” Despite the title, contains excellent info on male criminals as well. Edo’s Kodenmachō prison holds up to 700ish prisoners at a time; about 1500 die each year from violence or poor living conditions.

[2] As an example of samurai-horse affinity: Article I of the warrior code promulgated at the start of the Tokugawa regime exhorted warriors to devote themselves to the “way of the bow and the horse.” (Bary et al., Sources of Japanese Tradition, chapter 20.) In some areas of 17th-18th century Japan, commoners were even forbidden to ride horses and oxen, because this deprived agriculture of the animals’ labor. (Shively, “Sumptuary Regulation and Status in Early Tokugawa Japan.”)

[3] Phenomenal and extremely Javert-relevant source here: Walker, Lost Wolves of Japan. This book opens with the difficulty of finding any genetic distinction between Japanese wolves and dogs. People have nevertheless striven to find that distinction, for political reasons that are also Javert-relevant and will come up later. I’m also looking at Skabelund, Empire of Dogs, which touches on the absence of pet dogs in brick-era Japan (among more fascinating political stuff).

#les miserables #the japan au #valjean

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gravelyhumerus · 3 years

Text

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Thirteen

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away” Relationship: Jemily

Rating: Explicit Summary: Foxes, lattes, churches and resolutions.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

The first thing she noticed was the snow. It was falling down on her, hitting her skin with pinpricks of ice cold. She wandered through the bookshelves, searching for something. She wasn’t sure what for.

It didn’t normally snow inside the library, but that didn’t seem to matter to her.

The snow crunched beneath her feet as she turned down another row of books, past the history section and stepping over a stack of books on the floor that was left there by some other student. To her left was a row of empty desks. It was just Emily and the books.

But, Emily didn’t feel peaceful. Something inside of her told her that she couldn’t wait around, she needed to do something, find something.

Emily trudged through the snow. Was she searching for a spot to sit and study? Was she searching for a book? When she found it, she would know.

She turned down a corridor, looking up and down the tall bookcases, her eyes skimming along the spines. They were old leather bound tomes, in rich oranges, blues and reds. They looked as if they hadn’t been read in decades. She searched for something she recognized, but nothing made sense to her as she couldn’t make out the titles or authors.

Out of frustration, she turned away to stomp back down the row, but something stopped her in her tracks.

Emily blinked at the image in front of her. It was a fox standing in the middle of the fiction section, looking at her expectantly. It was as if he had climbed out of one of the books and materialized before her eyes.

“Bonjour,” Emily said, kneeling down before the animal.

“Bonjour,” said the fox.

Emily looked around, confused at the appearance of the animal. What was a fox doing in a library? When she looked back, he was gone.

She looked around.

“Je suis là,” came the voice, from between two books, announcing his presence on the adjacent shelf.

“Qui es-tu?” Emily asked, wondering who he was—or what he was—and what on earth he was doing here in her college’s library.

“Je suis un renard,” said the fox. He was a fox. No shit.

She blinked at him, trying to figure out what she was remembering. The fox was familiar. She had seen him before… or read about him before.

It was just like out of Le Petit Prince—the book that JJ had given her for her birthday. The book was a classic children’s novel, one that Emily had read many times. It was as if the character had simply stepped out of the book.

The book was about a little boy who lived on an asteroid and was in love with a rose. He went on an adventure through space before landing on Earth. There, he befriended a fox. Emily could picture the simple watercolour illustration of the small boy prince speaking to the fox. She could almost feel the pages of the book between her fingers. She smiled as she thought of JJ’s excited face as Emily unwrapped the present a few weeks back.

This fox, like in the book, was speaking to her. She racked her brain for what she was supposed to say.

“What am I doing here?” Emily asked, this time in English.

“Je ne puis pas jouer avec toi,” said the fox, which was not the answer to her question, since he had told her that he couldn’t play with her. “Je ne suis pas apprivoisé."

I am not tamed, he said. He has not yet been tamed. Emily remembered now what she must say.

“What does tamed mean?” she asked, in French.

The fox jumped down from the bookshelf and walked through the library, his small paws leaving prints in the white snow. He was bright red against the ground and easy to follow through the familiar stacks. Emily noticed that she wasn’t cold, despite the weather, even as her breath came out in puffs that lingered in the air.

“It’s something that’s been too often neglected. It means ‘to create ties’... but you know this.”

Emily remembered this part, he was right. In the book, the boy doesn’t know what taming means, how to create ties with the wild animal. He does not yet know the meaning of friendship.

The novel was filled with layers of metaphor. It spoke to childhood, love, loss and the power of the imagination. Emily’s copy sat next to her bed, and she had been looking through it before she fell asleep that night.

The fox crept through the seemingly endless bookshelves, his tail swishing back and forth as he walked. Emily tried to keep up, but he seemed to weave through the library with a practised ease.

The fox stopped. He hopped onto a desk and curled his tail in front of him. He cocked his head and looked at her expectantly.

“Your person has run from you, correct?”

Emily stared at him. This part was not in the book. She nodded after a moment.

“I ran from my boy at first, too.”

She remembered this part: in the novel, the young boy wanted to befriend the fox. But he was impatient. The fox explained that it would take time, that the boy would have to return over multiple days to build his trust. The boy would begin sitting far from the fox, not even making eye contact. Over time, he could move closer and closer until they finally could play together. Their friendship could only be forged over time.

“Were you scared?” Emily asked.

“At first,” he replied. “But he was patient. And persistent.”

The fox swished his tail, then continued: “At times, my heart was not yet ready to greet him.”

“How did the little prince finally tame you?”

He did not answer the question, as she already knew the answer, instead he said: “Words are the source of misunderstandings.”

“Was it all worth it? Even though he left you in the end?” Emily asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, then looked off into the distance, almost wistfully.

“Here is my secret,” he said. “It’s a very simple secret: it is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

“On ne voit qu'avec le cœur," Emily repeated. She knew this line by heart. It was better in French.

The fox disappeared into the books and Emily was left alone in the empty library. His words filled her mind.

Words are the source of misunderstandings. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly.

Emily woke up to the sound of her alarm blaring in her ear. She was curled up on her bed, on her side. Her blankets had fallen onto the floor, and she was close to shivering in the chill air. She slammed her hand onto her phone and fumbled until she turned off her alarm.

It was a dream. A vivid dream. She didn’t normally get those.

She stretched, her neck sore after sleeping at a weird angle. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the convoluted dream that was still clear in her mind. Somehow, even after all she had done to distract herself, JJ still was a key figure in her unconscious brain.

Emily needed to move on from that, focus on school. She couldn’t dwell on what she couldn’t control. She was an expert at pretending everything was okay; she had held herself together through worse.

She stared out the window. Instead of the white snow that had been so crisp and bright in her dream, outside was grey and dreary. She couldn’t see any hint of precipitation, frozen or otherwise, just dead grass and wet asphalt. The trees were bare as the leaves had fallen and been raked up last month, and there was salt on the roads in anticipation of the freezing temperatures.

Emily methodically dressed, donning a pair of jeans and a dark green button up shirt, pulling a sweater on top to combat the chill. She then played some music on her laptop. She focused on the lyrics, allowing her mind to go blank.

She sat in front of the mirror on her desk, carefully applying her makeup. There was something about a swoop of liquid eyeliner that made everything feel okay. At least, more okay than they used to be. If she looked put together, maybe she would feel like it, too.

Emily rarely remembered her dreams and she really wasn’t used to having to think too hard about her subconscious. All that was very Freudian, anyways. She wrote the dream off as her sleep-deprived brain mixed with reading before bed.

She donned her warmest leather jacket, the one with sherpa lining on the collar and tugged a mustard yellow beanie onto her head. Then, she lifted her tote bag onto her shoulders, and put her headphones into her ears, turning the volume up high, hoping that she could drown it all out.

During her lecture, Emily didn’t retain a single word her professor said. She mindlessly typed her notes, completely zoned out the entire time. She wondered if the words on her screen made any sense, but decided that it must be an issue for a future version of herself. This was probably a bad idea, as it was just about finals season and her exams were fast approaching.

Her mind was elsewhere: thinking about the blonde who lived across the hall. At times, Emily thought about their kiss, or imagined holding her hand, or holding her body. Then, as her daydreaming gave way to reality, she remembered the anxiety as JJ ignored her texts. She remembered JJ ending it one day, then coming back from a hookup mere days later.

Every day that week, as Emily walked down the hall, a part of her wanted to knock on JJ’s door, like she used to, just to say hi. Beyond everything else, Emily missed JJ. She missed laughing over dinner, studying French, or even lounging in one of their dorm rooms, doing nothing and talking for hours. She missed the way she smelled and her soft touch and her big blue eyes. She missed JJ’s kindness, how she would remember little details about Emily, and how she would knock her shoulder against Emily’s to get her attention. Emily missed her friend.

But the hurt was still there, and it overpowered her longing. The hallway reminded her of JJ’s words, her breaking it off, the tears in her eyes.

Emily hadn’t seen her since, with JJ doing an amazing job at avoiding her.

As soon as her class was over, she walked off of campus, heading straight to her favourite cafe downtown. It was usually busy this time of day, but she hoped the crowd would keep her from wallowing and make her focus on her work. Campus was inextricably tied to JJ. The field reminded her of JJ’s soccer games, the library of their study dates, the cafeteria of their group dinners and even the quad made her think of the time she almost ran JJ over with her skateboard when she was distracted.

Emily sat at the long sandy wood table and sipped her latte as she opened her laptop.

Members of the Prentiss family were extremely talented at pretending things were normal, that everything was fine, and Emily was no exception. She had tucked all the hurt, all the confusion, into a neat little box in the back of her mind. Storing it away until she could deal with it.

She typed away at one of her essays, only taking pauses to sip her coffee. She was busy finding sources and working on integrating quotes to develop her argument. She enjoyed the sound of her keyboard clacking, adding to the din of the cafe.

Her phone was tucked neatly away in her pocket. While there was a noticeable silence in their group chat—the one with both Emily and JJ in it—Emily’s phone seemed to be constantly pinging with messages. Derek was checking in on her, Penelope seemed to be trying to distract her, even Hotch had sent her a message to make sure she was ok. If Reid had a cellphone, she knew he’d be doing the same. Sometimes she got messages from Penelope’s number that was signed by the younger boy. Somehow, the whole world seemed to have known exactly what had happened between her and JJ.

The sun was setting faster and faster these days, and by five, it was creeping below the horizon. At this point, she had most of her essay drafted, so it felt like a good enough time to call it quits. Anyways, her back was starting to get sore from the minimalist chair and all she really wanted to do was curl up in her bed again.

Emily packed up her bag, depositing her empty mug on the counter, nodding at the barista before leaving.

She took the long way home, walking along the river and listening to her music, trying to clear her mind. She pulled her hood up against the cool air.

She walked for five minutes before slowing as she came upon a church that she had passed before. Instead of continuing along her way back to her dorm, something made her pause.

Lights lit up the facade: a red brick building that stretched up into the sky with a pointed bell tower in the centre. Columns graced the front, standing strong on either side of the large, wooden doorway.

Emily stared at it. It was simultaneously familiar and foriegn. Emily had spent almost every Sunday in church, be it Sunday school or mass with her mother. No matter where they were in the world, there was always at least one church in the city that they could attend.

In Rome, their visits had only gotten more frequent, as after school, she and Matthew would wander the Renaissance churches around the city, admiring the architecture and discussing theology and morality and free will.

Something came over her in that moment, and she found herself wandering up the steps, trying the door to see if it was unlocked. The door swung open easily, and for a moment Emily thought about walking in. She thought about kneeling before the cross and going through the familiar motions of prayer.

She thought about asking God about JJ, about what was going on, praying for guidance on what to do. She could picture the way the light would dance through the stained glass window, she could feel wooden pew under her knees, she could almost mouth the words of her prayer.

She thought of St. Georgia, her confirmation saint. She thought of her life of solitude, and how that almost sounded nice. Young Emily had thought the same thing.

She thought about the mass that she sat in her pew, with tears in her eyes, as the priest talked about how being gay was a sin. She thought about how her mother repeated those words when she came out at sixteen.

She let the door close without entering, before walking away, longing for the feeling of the wind on her face instead of the dusty smell of incense.

It had been years since she had set foot in church. The last time had been in Rome, the day she walked in with Matthew, before… well there was no before. It just was. Her pregnancy had triggered something in both of them, questions about the church that could not be prayed away.

Emily clenched her fists, her short nails digging into her palms. She remembered the way Matthew had held her hand at the doctor’s, and held her as she fought back tears, and walked arm in arm into the church in defiance of the priest.

After, their questions hadn’t subsided. Matthew read and read and read and the more he learned, the more the church transformed the place of safety and solace to something neither teen could stand behind.

Still, she missed her childhood certainty. She missed the feeling of a power greater than herself watching over her. She missed the singing—though she would never admit it—she had really enjoyed being in the choir. She missed how her mother would sit next to her, how it was often the longest time she got to spend with her busy mom.

Emily shook her head, fighting back the memories, and turned up her music and continued her walk home. She dug around in her backpack for a lighter and her pack of cigarettes. Fumbling for a moment, she lit one and breathed in the dark smoke.

The wind was biting and her leather jacket did little to keep the cold from creeping into her bones. As the sun was setting, Emily began to shiver.

After dragging her walk out as long as she could, she finally went back to her dorm. Her hands were iced cold and she was shivering. She dropped her backpack on the floor before collapsing onto her bed. She checked her phone to find a missed call from Derek.

She called him back, knowing that he was likely to pick up from only down the hall.

“Hey,” she said. She felt suddenly tired, and wondered whether he would pick up on that.

“Hey Prentiss,” Derek said. “How’s it going?”

“I’m fine,” Emily lied.

“No you’re not,” his voice came through the phone, and from the hallway, and he knocked once before opening her door.

Emily sat up, looking over to him in surprise. As if he owned the place, Derek walked over and sat down on her desk chair, letting it spin with the motion of his body.

“We’re ordering take out,” Derek said, “You can’t survive on coffee.”

“I can try,” Emily muttered.

“Pizza?” Derek proposed.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Bullshit,” he said. “You’ve been avoiding the cafeteria.”

Emily crossed her arms. Derek was good at making her feel better, pushing her to take care of herself without forcing her to talk about her feelings. He was a private person, and so he never went too far, knowing that there were lines that neither of them crossed.

“Thai?” he said with a sly look in his eye, he knew she couldn’t refuse.

“Ok fine,” she gave up, “You know what I like.”

“That I do,” he said, dialling his phone and calling the local family-run Thai restaurant for delivery.

Forty minutes later the two of them were eating curry and watching The X-Files on Emily’s laptop. They were sprawled out on the floor, both scooping rice into their mouths as they discussed the plot of the episode—aliens—and whether or not they actually believed in them.

Emily didn’t realize how hungry she had been and struggled to remember the last full meal she had eaten.

After she had finished, she felt slightly more human, slightly less out of it. Still sad, but being sad on a full stomach, sitting next to her best friend and watching her favourite tv show was a bit more bearable.

“I just don't get it,” Emily blurted, surprising herself as the words fell out of her mouth.

“Yeah,” Derek replied, “What’s the point of probing? Don’t they have good enough technology that they could just scan someone and know what’s up?”

“I mean, yeah,” Emily said with a laugh, “But I was talking about JJ.”

She paused.

“Did I push too hard?” Emily mused, “Was it my fault?”

Emily didn’t plan to vent to Derek. She hadn’t really told him the details yet, as she was still embarrassed after Thanksgiving weekend. Telling Derek’s entire family about how she had a girlfriend and then immediately getting dumped was not great for the ego.

She learned early that it was safer keeping things to herself.

Emily had done just about anything to fit in when she was younger. She was desperate to be normal. To be someone that wasn’t the weird queer girl that moved around a lot. She learned languages, learned cultures. She learned how to wear the right clothes, say the right thing. She tried so, so hard to be normal, and yet she never seemed to do it right.

In her senior year, Emily finally gave up. She dyed her hair, did her make up in a way she knew enraged her mother, and dressed the exact opposite of what the other kids did.

Since then, Emily was trying to focus on being herself. Derek was her first friend to really accept her for her, and over the past year and a half, she felt herself beginning to relax around him. In her second year at college, she was no longer the new kid.

She had started to feel comfortable with him, and all of their new friends, so she was kicking herself for letting things with JJ blow up in her face. She should have known this was all too good to be true.

“Em,” Derek said, “You can’t blame yourself. There’s definitely more going on with her that we don’t know.”

“Did Pen say something?” Emily said hopefully.

“I don’t know,” Derek said, rubbing the back of his neck, “She hasn’t said anything outright, ‘cause, y’know it’s all so complicated. We’re friends with both of you. But she made it seem like it wasn’t just you.”

Emily gulped at the guilt she felt when she thought of how all of this with JJ must be hurting her friends. They had all gotten so close this semester, and she hated the thought of ruining it for everyone.

“It’s not you, it’s me,” Emily said with a sardonic laugh.

“Essentially,” he said.

“Look Prentiss,” Derek said, “I think this is just a hiccup. You’ll figure it out. You two just need to talk and stop running from each other.”

“How do I get her to stop running from me?” Emily asked, her dream vivid in her mind once again.

“Wait it out,” he said, “She’ll come back to you eventually. For now, eat some mango.”

He offered her the dessert, some mango and sticky rice that they had gotten to share. Emily took some with a grin.

She could wait. JJ was worth waiting for.

———

Emily was almost ready for bed when she heard a knock at her door. Derek had stayed for most of the evening, watching tv and talking for hours to keep her mind off of things. He had wandered out around nine, as he had an early practise the next morning.

She was just about to get undressed after brushing her teeth and washing her face. She stood in the centre of her room with her fly half undone as she heard the sound. She zipped her pants back up and walked to her door, unlocking it, expecting to see Derek returning for something that he had forgotten. Instead, she was face to face with Jennifer Jareau.

“Hi,” JJ said. “Can we talk?”

In JJ’s hands was a large tin filled with homemade chocolate chip cookies. They were piled high in the tin, perfectly baked with picturesque chocolate chips still warm from the oven. On JJ’s face was a nervous expression as she held out the gift for Emily to take.

Emily stood and stared at JJ, wondering if she was real or if she had finally snapped and was hallucinating.

A moment passed. JJ smiled nervously at her, big blue eyes boring into Emily’s own.

Emily took the cookies.

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds tv #jemily #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #jemily cm #jj x emily #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #fanfiction #fanfic #jemily fanfiction #gravelyhumerus cm college au #my post #my writing #sweater weather au #sorry for the delay!!!!#life got in the way

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