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shinebrite97 · 4 years

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Portia Appreciation Week day 5-Domestic Life

Super late on this one, but I’ve been writing it for a month or more, just a snippet from my Arcana College AU WIP. Domestic dorm life for our favorite lil handmaiden.

“You in there?” Portia asked as the door opened. Light splashed in immediately, soaking the desk where I sat hunched over my laptop and leaving blind spots in my eyes. Had it really gotten so dark?

“Hey, Portia…” I replied with a yawn.

“Really burning the midnight oil there, hun.” She said.

“I know, but I’ve gotta finish this. I don’t know why I decided to join the occult club. Asra is a nightmare with the writing assignments.”

“You know you could just like, not go back. Right?” she asked, plopping down onto her bed and untying her sneakers. “It’s a club, it’s not like it’s giving you extra credits or anything.”

“Actually it’s offering two social science credits at completion,” I replied as I blinked the fatigue from my eyes. “One semester in this club and I can skip my next semester’s human intricacies class.”

“I hope it’s worth it,” Portia replied as she tugged her hair into a loose ponytail. “Human Intricacies strangely sounds more fun than some magic club.”

“Occult,” I responded. “And at least this way I can avoid the stress of that midterm and final, and on the bright side...Asra’s a major hottie.”

“Really?” She asked. “I haven’t even seen him yet.”

“He’s not actually faculty here,” I said. “He’s a T.A., about to graduate with a Philosophy major, and he volunteered to run the club with the supervisory signature from Professor Selasi.”

“So you’re basically dancing on the line of an affair with a teach…” She replied. I listened as Portia flopped onto my bed. When I glanced over, her long red hair spilled over the edge as she kicked off her shoes and stretched her arms.

“That was the longest Econ lecture yet…” She yawned. “We should go to a bar this weekend. You game?”

“Hell yeah.” I replied. I turned back to my open document. Lines and lines of text about the major and minor arcana, what he’d suggested to be a small cheat sheet turned into basically a separate essay on each card. I’d been at this for hours now. I went back to it once Portia was settled, mindless mumbling about repainting her nails. I had been typing up my interpretation of the seven of wands when I felt a soft jab in my arm. I paused, glancing over at the sly little smirk on my roomie’s lips as she poked my arm again, unashamed of herself.

“You know what’s weird…” Portia said after a few minutes of my endless typing.

“What’s up?” I replied.

“I feel like I knew you, like in another life or something.”

“Really?”

“Do you believe in reincarnation, Sarah?” I nodded my head, finally shutting my laptop to freshen my eyes, before directing my full attention to her.

“I feel like in another life, we were friends. Maybe I lived in a castle. Or maybe I got to live out my lesbian dream of owning a cute little cottage and a cat.”

“Maybe I was a real magician and I read tarot cards.” I grinned. My deck was sitting on the dresser, still unopened, waiting for me to bring it to the Tarot club on Friday.

“Maybe that hottie Asra was too,” She added. “If you two knew each other then, maybe you were dating then too.”

“Maybe.” I replied with a blush. “I don’t know, I kinda hope he’s more romantic in this hypothetical version.”

“Trouble in paradise?” She asked, rolling over to lay on her stomach and kicking her feet high above her. “Spill the tea, sis!”

“It’s not bad,” I replied. “I thought it’d be a little more...scandalous. But it seems that no one really cares. He’s not a real teacher, not being paid by the school, so he’s fair game.”

“Anything...fun...going on?” She asked with a wiggle of her manicured eyebrow.

“Fun?” I scoffed as I swiveled in my chair to fully face her. “Eh, I think he’s taking things slow... like really slow.” I replied. “He hasn’t even gotten me drunk yet.”

“Well, you’re not even twenty yet, I can see why he wouldn’t.” She smirked. “Got’churself a nice guy there, sis.” I blushed, feeling the depth of the red on my cheeks while Portia laughed out loud. Unsure if I should go to the extent of my new fling’s lack of respect for laws, the dude smuggled in more spiked grass than any frat boy could dream of.

“He invited me to his apartment this weekend,” I said instead. “Friday night after accounting, I’m going over for dinner and a movie.”

“Ooh, okay honey. I won’t wait up.” She smirked.

“Are you gonna call up Nadia?” I asked.

“Wha-...huh...w-why would I do that?” Her confidence was now gone, and before me was a sputtering red-faced mess of a girl.

“I don’t know.” I replied. “I thought maybe you might have grown some lady balls and asked her out.”

“Not yet.” She sighed, hitting me with my own pillow. “Let me know how things go with Alnazar this weekend, and I’ll consider it.”

#portia appreciation week #PAW2020 #late entry #modern au #college au #portia devorak #SavePortia #the arcana portia #AU #domestic life #day 5

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marvelousbirthdays · 5 years

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Happy Birthday, wintershadowkat!

July 16 - A TaserBones with the"Soulmate identifying mark" trope for @wintershadowkat

Written by @backwardsandinhighheels

Darcy was in her freshman year at Culver when word spread around the campus that the feds were taking apart the science department.

Like every other bored student, Darcy joined the crowd of people pretending to walk past while jostling for a better look at the men in black carrying computers, files, and various bits of machinery to waiting vans. Through judicious use of elbows, she squeezed her way close to the entrance at the front, craning her neck to see into the building.

Her interest must have been too obvious because a guy in a black bulletproof vest focused in on her as he ushered students away. “Nothing to see here, miss. Move along, now.”

At those words, Darcy stared up at the guy in shock for a good ten seconds, before finding her voice. “Are you serious? That is such a lie. That’s like the biggest, most blatant lie I’ve ever heard and like, I knew it was probably going to be a lie but I didn’t think it was going to be that bad.”

It was at the end of her rambling that Darcy realised three things:

1. They were in public, surrounded by hordes of students with nothing better to do than gawk at whatever entertainment came along,

2. Whatever qualms she had about having a lie curving around her waist, her soulmate had her rant about lying somewhere on him and that kinda made up for it, and

3. Her soulmate was tall, dark, and seriously hot

Also, he was looking at her with an unreadable expression that somehow made the rest of the world quieten away.

“You’re too young,” he said finally, and she felt her stomach drop.

“What do you mean? Are you rejecting me?” She’d heard the stories, but never imagined it could happen to her.

Thankfully, he shook his head. “I’m not saying no, I’m saying not yet. You need to grow into yourself first.”

“That’s… fair.” Well, it wasn’t ideal, but she was sure that once she’d gotten over the shock, she’d be grateful he hadn’t proposed on the spot. Her cousin swore up and down that had happened to an old classmate of his. “You want my number?”

His eyes sharpened. “You got an email? It’s probably more reliable.”

Darcy nodded and went to write it down. Halfway through the first email she’d made when she was twelve - and her mom was right, she really needed to get a more ‘professional’ one - she scribbled it out and wrote in her college email instead. There was no way she was introducing herself to her soulmate with [email protected] (listen, underscores used to be cool, all right?) which reminded her - “I’m Darcy,” she said. “In case you were wondering.”

“Brock,” he replied.

“Like from - “

He sighed. “Yes, like from Pokemon.”

She pressed her email into his hand. “Nice to meet you, Brock.”

~~~

Their communication was sporadic, interrupted as it was by exams (Darcy) and super-secret overseas assignments (Brock), but over the next little while, Darcy discovered her soulmate was kind of a dork.

Sure, he’d mastered martial arts she’d never even heard of, refused to listen to music past the year 2000, and admitted he’d never actually played Pokemon. But when she sent a Nintendo DS to the post box he’d finally admitted to having, he kept her up to date on his progress through Pokemon Pearl and argued with her on her choice of starters.

Best of all, however, he asked about her. He quizzed her at length on her childhood, on her family and friends, and in return, she heard about the life of an army brat who never really saw himself doing anything else. She told him all about her degree, bouncing essay ideas off him when he was in the country long enough to reply in time. He was especially interested in her own ideas on the sliding scale from freedom to security, positing hypotheticals that ranged from the silly to the downright chilling.

As time passed, she began to hint about meeting up, but he would deflect, telling her it wasn’t the right time. Eventually, she gave up. The first email after she stopped hinting had a distinct note of relief, so Darcy resigned herself to a platonic bond.

Brock was not impressed when she landed an internship in the middle of New Mexico, but then, his emails had a rather overprotective streak, so Darcy wasn’t fussed. She decided against giving too many details after the whole ‘Loki and the Destroyer’ thing, but he somehow found out anyway.

Boy, that was a fun set of emails.

After that, their first real fight, conversation sort of… tailed off. Brock didn’t stop emailing, exactly, but he was more distant, less interested. By the time Jane landed a job at Stark Industries, Darcy in tow, she’d whittled him down to a penpal in her mind. A friend. Someone she’d met once, a long time ago. When a server glitch at Culver disconnected Darcy's email address, she barely noticed. It didn’t hurt at all. Really.

~~~

"Who is Crossbones?" Darcy asked, running her finger down the list of guests for Tony's event for superhuman, enhanced, or otherwise heroic individuals.

"Hmm?" Pepper glanced over from where she was doing final detail checks on the schedule. "Someone Steve knows from Washington. Ex-SHIELD, possibly ex-Hydra. I think Steve said something about him being a double agent, but until we know his reasons for turning, Tony is hesitant to have him on the team."

"Fair enough," Darcy agreed. "I won't seat him with the rest of the ex-SHIELD crew then. Oh, have you taken a look at your speech? I emailed the revised version to you this morning."

"No, I haven't. Thanks for reminding me." Pepper made a note on her tablet. "Will Jane be coming, do you know?"

Darcy shook her head. "When I checked this morning, she said she was done with superheroes and promised not to blow a hole in the time-space continuum if I brought her canapes afterwards." She looked down at her list again. "I still think we should have nametags. What am I supposed to call this guy? Mr Bones?"

“You could just ask him,” Pepper suggested.

“Doubt it.”

~~~

Darcy was making the rounds, clipboard in hand and desperately wishing for nametags, when Steve caught her eye. Once he had her attention, he beckoned her over to where he stood with another man.

“Rumlow, this is Darcy, our coordinator and facilitator. Darcy, this is -”

Darcy’s jaw dropped. Also her clipboard, but she barely noticed. “Brock?”

The man next to Steve caught the clipboard, his own stunned gaze meeting hers. “Darcy?”

“How - what - what are you doing here?”

“Could ask you the same question.”

“Do you two know each other?” Steve asked, looking between them, bemused.

Darcy plucked the clipboard from Brock’s hand and passed it to Steve, her eyes never leaving Brock’s face. “Be a dear and sign people in, would you?” Taking Brock’s hand, she dragged him through one of the staff entrances and into a storeroom she’d inspected earlier.

“You’re Crossbones?” she demanded, as soon as they were alone. “You’re the ex-Hydra guy?”

“How did you know about that?” Instead of letting her answer, he cupped her cheek with his hand. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

She pushed his hand off her face. “You can’t just - it’s been six years!”

He dropped his gaze and his hand. “I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t think. Are you - is there someone else?”

“No,” she responded immediately, and his drooping shoulders straightened. “But I thought you didn’t want me!”

“Darcy, you were too young.”

She paused. “I’m not in college any more.”

“No, you’re certainly not.”

“Oh good,” Darcy said, before dragging his mouth down to hers.

It was a few minutes before they broke apart, Darcy’s fancy updo in curls around her face and both of them breathing heavily.

Brock shook his head. “I had a whole speech, you know. For if I ever saw you again. I was going to explain everything that went down at SHIELD.”

Darcy waved a hand in dismissal. “I already know most of that. I need to know if you’re going to stick around.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Of course!”

He didn’t even have to think about it. “Then I will.”

“Oh good.” She began to pin her hair back up. “We should probably go out and rejoin the party. Oh! Did you know there’s another Pokemon game out?”

Brock snorted. ‘You’re going to ruin my image with Rogers.”

“Is that a yes, though?”

“Yes.”

Giggling, she slipped her arm into his and snuggled against his side. “Let’s go.”

#TaserBones #Darcy Lewis #Brock Rumlow #soulmate AU

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svubloods · 7 years

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Imagine Barba v Reagan custody trial PART ONE (TPELB SEVEN)

Masterlist With all the Parts HERE

Imagine Barba v Reagan custody trial PART ONE

“May I make an observation, Y/N,”

“It’s your hour,” You shrugged.

“Actually it’s yours,” She reminded with a small comforting smile, “Which is what I wanted to say. We've had a couple of sessions now Y/N and you haven't really discussed how you feel about what is going on for you at the moment,”

“I have my reasons,” You offered.

“Would you like to share those with me?" She inquired simply.  "Your services are being paid for by Mr. Barba which understandably could make you bias so I feat whatever I say could easily be misinterpreted into supporting him,” You elaborated.

“I’ve noticed that you rebel from anything involving your Father,” She observed.

“He’s not my Father,” You stated.

“Even the mention of him, you rebel,” She continued.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat and looked around the room for the umpteenth time this session. You were in a yet another session with your court mandated therapist. She was nice enough and very good at her job. It took a lot of effort to deflect her questions and not reveal too much to her. You were weary about opening up but most of the time you ended up doing just that. You feared to have all your private thoughts and feelings aired out for your family to hear. You often used the excuse of her having a bias as a reason to deflect. It was clear bias, its how it works in the real world. Though you knew deep down that she obviously didn’t have one but it was a sufficient enough barrier to stop yourself from talking. You tried to get things out of her instead as your Law Guardian had just concluded the ‘discovery’ stage of your case which meant that she had interviews with all of you family members, teachers and anyone else who is in contact with you. Though you weren’t supposed to know this, you just researched it.

“Y/N,” She began in a soothing tone, “I’ve been doing this for a number of years now. It’s very common for the petitioner to pay for this service in this sort of case. I’ve managed to maintain unbiased in all the cases before yours. My sole job is to look at things objectively and ensure whatever is decided is what is best for the child or children involved. What do you think would make me bias in this case?”

“He’s very convincing,” You replied.

“So are the Reagans,” She responded.

“You’ve talked to them?” You asked, faking surprise.

She nodded, “I’ve talked with everyone directly involved at least once,”

“Really?” You questioned, confused.

“Usually I wouldn’t but due to the unique and complicated nature of this case, your law guardian thought it would be best for me to have context so when I put forward my professional opinion it would be ensured to be in your best interest,” She explained.

“Is it really that unique of a situation?” You asked.

“Long lost parents are extremely rare,” She chuckled, “In fact, this is my first ever case where it has happened.”

“Should I feel special?” You muttered.

“No,” She smiled comfortingly once again, “You should feel special because there a lot of people that love you very much and what I gathered from talking to them is that they just want the best for you. Granted both sides have very different ideas of what is best for you,”

You just nodded before looking away.

“Y/N, I’m getting the feeling that this rebellion against your Father isn’t because you don’t like him, I think you do like him, I think you do it because you don’t want to feel like that you’re betraying your family,” She revealed.

“I don’t like him,” You insisted.

“You can like a person and not like their actions. They aren’t mutually exclusive,” She reassured.

You pulled a face.

“I don’t know how I feel about him,” You gave in and finally confessed, “Sometimes I hate him and sometimes I’m okay with him but I don’t want to live with him,”

“And that’s for definite?” She asked.

You nodded.

“I don’t know why everyone keeps asking me if I’m sure or not. Would you want to live with a complete stranger?” You countered.

“I wouldn’t,” She agreed, “But hypothetically say if he did things in the way you wanted them. By getting to know you first and communicating with your family. Would you consider living with him then?”

“No,” You replied, “If that were the case maybe weekend stays or something but primarily I would like to stay with my Grandfather.”

“So there is no circumstance where you considered living with your Father?” She inquired.

“Yes,” You confirmed, “Unless circumstances completely changed and I had known him my whole life,”

“Are you angry at him?” She asked out of the blue.

“I’m just confused as to why he doing things this way when he had other less drastic options,” You replied honestly, “I’m upset, confused and angry,”

“Do you hate him?” She asked.

“No,” You admitted, “I wanted to for you know for putting me through this mess but I can’t for some reason,”

“It’s a parent thing,” She chuckled, “No matter how much you dislike what they are doing. You still love them because they're your paren,”

“I’m not familiar with parent things,” You commented.

“I know this is a new world for you. Having an actual parent and I understand it’s going to be hard for you to adjust. But you will eventually.” She sympathized.

“I’ve never needed a parent,” You commented, “My family has always been enough,”

“I understand Y/N and I’m not taking away from what they have done. They have clearly raised a brilliant, intelligent and talented young lady. And there is no doubt that they haven’t given you everything you’ve ever needed nor does anyone think they are inadequate in any way,” She reassured, “But I just get the impression that sometimes you have wondered what it would be like to be like an average kid.”

“And what if I had?” You countered.

“It would be okay,” She smiled, leaning forward in her seat to you, “Nobody would blame you for doing it or even thinking about it on occasion. We all do it.”

“Do what?” You asked.

“Think about how our lives could be different if certain things weren’t like they were,” She elaborated.

“What do you think about then?” You asked.

“I think about if I had become am Artist like I wanted to when I was a teenager or what my life would be like if I had stayed with my college boyfriend,” She offered, “What about you?”

“If my Mom was alive mostly,” You confessed, “And what my life would be like if my Dad had been in my life,”

“You don’t talk about your Mom much,” She commented.

“I have my reasons,” You said once again.

“Do you miss your Mom, Y/N?” She probed gently.

You shook your head sadly.

“You don’t seem so happy about that answer,” She observed.

“I try. I really do,” You sighed, “But I can’t miss her like everyone else does. And it’s frustrating because no matter how much I hear about her. I just don’t feel connected to her and it feels like there is this big part of me that’s missing because she’s not here. It’s very confusing so sure I wish she was here but I don’t miss her. I don’t remember having her or having this part of me and you can’t miss what you don’t remember having,”

“That must make it hard for you,” She sympathized.

“Not really,” You lied, “I just deal,”

“I talked to your English teacher yesterday,” She announced after a brief silence.

“Okay,” You replied, confused.

“She talked about a letter you wrote to your Mom,” She continued.

“I gave it to her by accident,” You excused, “I was inspired by her assignment and I was just compelled to write it,”

“Do you have it still have it?” She asked.

“Why?” You countered.

“She said it was very moving and revealing, not to mention well written,” She informed.

“I shredded it,” You admitted, “It felt good to write it though,”

“That’s good,” She smiled.

“I guess,” You shrugged, uncomfortable once again.

“What do you think your life would be like if your Mom was alive?” She asked.

“Different,” You stated.

“Are you ready for things to be different, Y/N?” She asked.

“I don’t know if they will be yet,” You commented.

“I think it will be regardless of what happens,” She insisted, “Your life isn’t ever going to be the same,”

“Why do say that?” You questioned.

“Because I got the impression that regardless of what is decided your Dad going to fight to be a part of your life,” She responded, “It’s just a question of when you’ll let him in,”

The session quickly finished after that. She told you that she would see you soon at the trial. It seemed like your whole life as it drew closer was consumed by the trial. It was the only thing on your mind. You’d been away from you family for months only surviving a couple of visits a week. You just wanted it all to be over but on the other hand, you feared that the trial would end in the way you feared it might.

The next day, you were scheduled to see your trial judge for a private meeting in his chambers. So you went down to the courts with your Law Guardian Garret and Will. Judge Barker was running late so Garret through it would be a good idea to get you familiarized with the court room and take the time to talk you through what will happen.

“I imagine you’ve been in lots of courtrooms,” Garret commented as you raced to the top of the empty court room and took a seat in the witness box, both of them following closely behind.

You nodded, “I used to come with my Aunt Erin all the time,”

“So I guess I don’t need to go through much,” He smiled.

“Not really,” You agreed, “Why are three desks?”

“Well, unlike most cases which had two. Child custody cases have three parties which mean they have three desks. One for me and you, one for your family and one for Mr. Barba,” He explained.

“Which one are we?” You inquired.

“Doesn’t really matter but typically I go for the middle one,” He informed.

You nodded in understanding before darting your eyes around the room, as if you were soaking it in. You could see it all from your slightly elevated position in the witness box.

“Do you have any more questions for Garret?” Will asked, approaching you and leaning against the box in front of you.

You shook your head.

“Are you still okay with going on the stand?” Garret asked, taking a step forward himself, “Because of you…”

“No, I want to,” You interrupted to insist.

He nodded and was about to say something else when Judge Barker’s secretary popped his head around the door to announce that he was ready for you. You, Garret and Will quickly head back down the corridor towards the office. They assured you once again that it was nothing to worry about before ushering you in.

“Ahh, you must be Y/N,” He smiled as you stepped into the room and closed the door behind.

Judge Barker was a tall burly man with a graying bread. He was sitting at his desk and watching you intently, still in his robe.

“It’s nice to meet you, your Honour,” You greeted, walking over and extending your hand to him.

“The pleasure is all mine,” He grinned before gesturing for you to take a seat.

“I’ve been hearing a lot about you young lady,” He began.

“You have?” You questioned.

“Well, I should say reading a lot about you,” He clarified, with a friendly beam.

“Oh,” You let out with a little jump in your seat.

“You are quite an impressive young lady,” He complimented, “Very much like your mother,”

“You knew my Mom?” You questioned, surprised.

“Everyone knew your Mom,” He chuckled, “She was a firecracker. Her departments ADA had a very hard time controlled her,”

“You dealt with criminal cases?” You asked.

“I did for twenty years,” He confirmed.

“Why did you change?” You probed.

“Well, my son went through a divorce and I thought it was handled badly by the presiding judge so I decided I couldn’t let that happen to others,” He explained.

“That’s sweet,” You smiled.

“So, should we get down to business?” He asked.

You nodded.

“I bet you're tried of being asked who you want to stay with, huh?” He asked.

“Definitely,” You agreed adamantly.

“I have a pretty good idea of what you want already,” He said, “I’m also sure that you know that the law is hardly on your side with this one,”

“I know,” You said sadly, “I just hope you see the special circumstances in this case. One of them being what I want,”

“That will be a very important part of my judgment,” He assured.

It wasn’t too long of a meeting as Judges are very busy people. He assured you that he was ultimately going to act in whatever way was best for you. You got the feeling that he was being truthful with you so his sentiment somewhat instilled confidence in you.

Your meeting with the Judge marked a week until the trial started. You can’t even decide if that week went quickly or not. Time seemed to go in this strange wrap were it both went fast and slow depending on the time of day. Nor could you decide whether or not you wanted it to go faster or slower.

You just wanted to go home. You didn’t think you would every miss the musky old man smell of your Grandpas house or Pops singing in the morning. You missed your room and feeling connected. You missed going to family dinner every week and the cleaning up party you all had afterward. You missed being confused by whatever sports game they had on. You just missed home and your home was your family.

“You ready kid?” Will ask, as you stopped before the door of the courtroom.

“Nice suit,” You quipped, trying to be causal.

“What can I say, I get dressed up for my ladies,” He winked playfully.

“You just look weird,” You continued to probe.

“I wear a suit every day to work,” He defended.

“I don’t pay attention to you,” You reminded.

“I bought this tie for you,” He informed in mock offense.

“I appreciate it,” You smiled, gripping his arm harder, “I don’t know if I want to go in,”

“You can leave whenever you want,” He reminded, “You don’t have to be there the whole time. Your the first witness so at first you’ll have to wait in the witness room and then you can sit with Garret at the desk,”

“Then why did you bring me to the courtroom and not the witness room?” You asked.

“I thought you would like to take a look at everyone in there so it wouldn’t be so scary when you went on the stand,” He explained, “Plus I know a couple people you want to see are already in there,”

“Can I?” You asked, hopefully.

“I’m not going to let anyone stop you,” He promised, “Not today,”

You finally let out a breath before walking quickly walking into the courtroom. It was bustling as everyone got settled before the Judge sat. You could feel eyes on you. As it was a family case it was private to the public so everyone in the room was familiar to you but you didn’t care. You just kept walking forward towards the bench until you saw the faces you were looking for.

“Grandpa,” You finally let out when you saw your Grandpa, who was standing by his desk, his back was to you so you saw him first.

“Y/N?” Your Grandpa questioned quickly, spinning around as if he didn’t do it fast enough that he would miss you.

“Hi,” You beamed before running up to him and engulfing him into a hug.

“Hello,” He chuckled, holding onto you tight as he bent down so he could be at your level, “I was wondering when I would see you,”

“I came looking,” You informed, clinging onto him tightly.

“I got the feeling,” He smiled.

“I miss you so much,” You sniffed, finally letting go.

“I miss you too but it will all be over soon I promise,” He whispered in your ear, still holding onto to you.

“But what happens when it does?” You questioned.

“We will figure it out,” He promised, rubbing your back, “Like always because we are a team,”

“Are we still a team?” You asked.

“We always will be no matter where we are or who we live with. We will always be together no matter what,” He insisted.

You pulled away and he wiped your tears.

“There are some other people that are excited to see you,” He informed, pointing behind you.

You turned around to see your whole family behind you. You took turns hugging them all. They all promised you that it would be okay but they hugged you tight as if it would be one of the last times they would be able to. You wanted to stay for longer but Will motioned to you that it was time to go before everything started. He was standing in front of you and then proceeded to circle the room in a different path so you could meet at the door. You clung on as soon as you could before you had to leave. Your families lawyer began to talk so they became immediately distracted.

You turned to leave and took a couple of steps, keeping your eyes on the floor so no one could see your tears and because you did you collied with someone. Someone with really fancy shoes, the sort of shoes you Grandpa wore to events and funerals. “I’m sorry,” You quickly apologized, looking up.

“Y/N,” Mr. Barba greeted.

You were shocked to see him but couldn’t let out any words. You were flustered and didn't know what to do. It wasn’t like you had anything to say to him anyway.

“I have to go,” You spluttered, walking away quickly, not looking him in the eye.

“You don’t…” He began to say but you didn’t hear the rest as you walked away so

You sped out the room quickly and obviously, you looked a bit startled because Will asked if you were okay. You lied and said that you were okay and you both headed into the witness room. Will came and sat with you and ensured that he would be the courtroom when you got up and that you could look at him if you didn’t know where to look. You guess he knew that you tended to zone out when Garret explained court procedure.

Like Will had said you were the first one to be called. Time definitely seemed to slow when you took the walk down the corridor to the court and when you finally got in and were escorted to your seat. Once again you could feel eyes on you. You didn’t think you would have trouble finding someone to look at but you had so you were glad you could look at Will. As you took a seat you flashed a smile to your families side as you glanced over them.

It was arranged like Garret had said. He was in the middle while your family was on the right side and Mr. Barba and his lawyer were on the left. You avoided looking at the left. You just knew that you couldn’t look at him. You were too upset and you were filled with all these emotions and sure you weren’t as angry as before the letter but you had the feeling that you would be again by the end of it.

As there were three parties it meant that you were being questioned by three attorneys. They all played softball with you as nobody wanted to be seen as putting pressure on the kid in question, nobody wanted to look like the bad guy. Garret and your families lawyer just asked you to reiterate what you wanted.

“Y/N, you’ve told us what you want,” Your Grandpa’s lawyer began, “Would you mind telling us why you don’t want to live with Mr. Barba,”

“I don’t know him,” You replied honestly, “Not well enough anyway. We were starting to get close before all of this happened but really we’re strangers. He just walked into my life as someone that my Aunt worked with. Not my Father,”

“Is that all?” He prompted.

“And I don’t agree with how he’s done this. My family was willing to compromise with him. They are really open people and they just want the best for me. If I said I wanted to get to know him they would work to make that happen because they don’t have an alterer motive. They just love me and I love them so so much. To be honest I’d probably be more willing to get to know my him if he hadn’t done things like this,”

“What do you mean by that?” He continued.

“I mean there is a reason I haven’t had any contact with him since I found out he was my Father. It’s because of the way he has done this. He has taken me from my home, my life, my routine and most importantly my family.” You clarified, finally turning to look your Father in the eye as you began to plead with him. “I understand that it isn’t fair for you but what you’re doing isn’t fair on me. I get it, I can’t imagine what it must be like to find out you had a kid that you didn’t know about. And I know to make up that you want to start trying but this isn’t how it works. You don’t instantly become a parent and maybe that’s why you’re doing this because you don’t know how actual parents would approach this. Because parents don’t get to be selfish which is what your choices are. You’re being selfish and parents are supposed to put their kids first,”

“Thank you, Y/N,” He nodded, “No further questions,”

“Thank you,” You said impulsively as he walked away.

“Hi Y/N,” Miss Hennessy, Mr. Barba’s lawyer, said as she got up from her seat and approached you.

“Hi,” You let out wearily.

“I’m going to keep this quick. I know how scary it can be up there,” She smiled.

“I’m fine,” You insisted.

You won’t say that you were as cordial with Mr. Barba’s lawyer than you were with Garret and you families attorney. You were a tad sharp with her because you wanted it over as quickly as possible with this. You think you did a good enough job with redirecting all your answers back to the point that you didn’t want to live with Mr. Barba.

“Y/N, how do you feel about your Mother?” She asked suddenly.

“What does she have to do with this?” You countered.

“Your honor,” Garret said standing up.

“Answer the question,” Judge Barker instructed.

“Depends,” You offered.

“She is the reason we are here. She didn’t tell anyone who your Father was and then she died without saying anything,” She explained, “So in that sense how do you feel about her?”

“I can’t really comment on her and her actions. I’m sure she had her reasons,” You replied, “But I do feel bad,”

“For yourself?” She probed.

“For Mr. Barba,” You clarified, “Like I said I can’t imagine how hard this is,”

“So you sympathize with him?”

“To an extent from an outsiders position. But in mine, like I said again. I think it’s selfish to tear apart my life to try and fix a wrong that happened to him,” You answered.

“But do you understand where he is coming from?” She inquired.

“Not really,” You confessed, “There were other ways of doing this. And I’ve said them a couple of times already,”

“Are you upset?” She asked.

“Of course,” You reiterated, “I’m tried. I want to go home and I’m really sorry Mr. Barba. I really am but my home isn’t with you. I’m really sorry that my Mothers actions stopped you from getting to be my Father. And you may be my Father by blood but you aren’t my Dad. I wish you were but I grew up without a Dad and making me live with you won’t magically make you one. The closest thing I’ve had to a Dad is my Grandpa.”

“You’ve always wanted to know who your Father was, haven't you?” She asked, unfazed.

“Yes, it’s natural to be curious, right?” You responded.

“Of course,” She agreed, “But it must have been extra hard on you as you didn’t have either parent,”

“My family made it easier,” You smiled, glancing back at them.

“But they can’t do that all the time can they, can they?” She inquired.

“No, but they try their best,” You nodded.

“But it doesn’t always work does it?” She continued.

“What are you getting at?” You asked.

“I’ve read the letter you wrote to your mother,” She informed.

“That was private, how did you get that?” You demanded.

“Y/N, why don’t you tell us what you wrote about how you feel sometimes when you are with your family.” She inquired.

“That isn’t relevant,” You insisted.

“I think it shows that you need an actual parent in your life,” She said.

“That isn’t about my Dad. It’s about my Mom,” You informed.

“You’re honor don’t you think that enough? Is any of this relevant?” Your families lawyer stood pup and questioned.

“She’s bullying her into saying what she wants,” Your Uncle Danny suddenly interrupted.

“Danny!” Erin scolded.

“It’s true,” He insisted.

“Your honor all my questions are relevant. I’m showing that the perfect picture that they are trying to portray isn’t a hundred percent accurate. I’m not denying that they haven’t done a good job. I’m just saying that there are some issues that need to be addressed,” Miss Hennessy tried to explain.

“Like what?” Danny demanded.

“How about the fact that you’ve been lying to her about her Mother’s death?” Mr. Barba suddenly got up and accused, glaring them down.

“You want to talk about lies?” Your Aunt Erin countered, enraged, standing up herself now, “How about the fact that you’ve lied to everyone about not knowing that Y/N existed until a few months ago? I know for a fact that my sister called you when she found out she was pregnant to let you know and I can prove it too because I recorded it,”

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essaywriting011-blog · 5 years

Text

1.As a junior congress person you have been asked to help promote a bill to allow casino gambling in your state

New Post has been published on https://essays-writing.us/promote-a-bill-to-allow-casino-gambling-in-your-state/

1.As a junior congress person you have been asked to help promote a bill to allow casino gambling in your state

Week1

1.As a junior congress person you have been asked to help promote a bill to allow casino gambling in your state. There is much opposition to this bill. Using distributive bargaining, discuss the pros and cons which might arise toward the passing or defeating of this bill. A 300 word response must be posted to the discussion forum. The post must be submitted by Wednesday at midnight. Each student is to post a reply to another students’ posting (minimum 200 words)

2.What are four important tactical tasks for a negotiator in a distributive situation to consider?

WEEK 2

DISCUSSION -1

Your state has a forthcoming referendum concerning no smoking in public places including bars and restaurants.

For all discussions question a primary response of 300 word must be posted to the discussion forum, the post must be submitted by Wednesday at midnight. Each student is to post a reply to another students’ posting (minimum 200 words) and must be posted Sunday by Midnight. All late submissions will receive a zero grade

Week 2:

Discussion 2 Initial post due Friday by midnight EST

Understanding the Flow of Negotiations: Stages and Phases

The typical steps or flow in a negotiation can be found in the phase models of negotiation:

Initiation.

Problem solving.

Resolution.

Defines these three phases and give a thorough example of each.

For all discussions questions a primary response of 300 word must be posted to the discussion forum, the post must be submitted by Wednesday at midnight. Each student is to post a reply to another students’ posting (minimum 200 words) and must be posted Sunday by Midnight. All late submissions will receive a zero grade.

Week 3

Discussion 1: Initial post due Wednesday by midnight EST

Each of us perceives “ethics” from our own point of reference as to what is or is not ethical. This assignment asks you to consider ethics and whistle-blowers. Select one of the behaviors listed below for your discussion posting. Base your posting on your relationship with the “unethical person” and any risk involved in “whistle blowing”.

Stealing from an employer

Falsifying a time sheet

Padding an expense account

Falsifying any document or record

Lying about the conduct of a co-worker

Week 3:

Discussion 2. Initial post due Friday at midninght (EST)

In a hostage crises, is it ethical for a government to agree to grant a terrorist immunity if he releases the hostages, even though the government has every intention of capturing and prosecuting the terrorist once his hostages are released?

Requirements (please read)

For each discussion, you are required to write an initial post (300 words) and one secondary post (200 words). The discussion forums will be worth 40 points apiece—25 points for the initial post and 15 points for the secondary post.

Week 4 Discussion 1: Initial post due Wednesday by midnight EST

Students are to observe two or more adults unknown to the observer. The student must not be able to hear the subjects being observed and those being observed must not be wearing a uniform of any kind as this would provide information about their occupation to the observer. Students must describe the environment and the people being observed, i.e., age, gender, dress, etc. Discuss the nonverbal communication, i.e. eye contact, body position and any other nonverbal behavior. Provide your interpretation of the relationship between those being observed. Be very discrete and do not have a conversation with those being observed. (350 WORDS) REFRENCES

Week 4 Discussion 2: Initial post due Friday by midnight EST.

discusses four types of perceptual distortions: stereotyping, halo effects, selective perception, and projection. Define each of these types of perceptual distortions and provide a full example of each perceptual distortion.

Week 5 Discussion 1: Initial post due Wednesday by midnight EST.

Select four people currently well known in the USA media and discuss their exertion of one of the sources of power.. Apply only one source of power to each of the four people selected.

Week 5

Discussion 2: Initail post due Friday by midnight EST.

Commitment: A Cautionary Tale. Discuss fully what is a cautionary tale from an organizational perspective and provide a personal example of a cautionary tale which has happened to you.

Week 6 Discussion1: Initial post due Wendesday by Midnight EST

Hypothetically speaking, you are assigned to a committee of three to decide on a dress code for Campbellsville University Staff and Faculty. Only two of the three votes are required to pass this policy. In this situation you are one of the two agreeing to a dress code. What steps might you take to gain the cooperation of the third party after the policy has been initiated

Week 6

Discussion 2: Initial post due Friday by midnight EST

Define and fully discuss the following brainstorming techniques, the Delphi Technique, Brainstorming, and Nominal Group Technique.

Week 7 Discussion 1: Initial post is due Wednesday by Midnight EST

During the course of your employment you may have experienced working for both a male and female supervisor. Discuss from your personal point of view the advantages/disadvantages and like/dislike of working for each gender. Use real life experiences if applicable.

Week 7 Discussion 2: Initial post is due Friday by Midnight EST

Explain fully and clearly from academic journal article research what types of differences exist between men and women in negotiation?

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writtenin-themargins-blog · 7 years

Text

A certain painting has been suddenly appearing multiple times. It’s Hokusai’s The Great Wave, perhaps one of the most famous East Asian works of art, arguably even one of the most famous works of art ever.

The first time the painting appeared was in the form of a pin I bought as a souvenir during my solo New York trip. At the Met, I didn’t plan a route in such a large space full of their own smaller, intricate mazes. I was my own guide, lingering a few seconds longer at certain works, arresting and enchanting. I found myself at a small souvenir shop near the bathrooms and could not resist the niche art products that I would not get anywhere else. I have always been a collector–– of books, photos, birthday cards (I read these when I feel lonely and sad, I advocate this as a cure to knowing you are loved and appreciated, sometimes the mind is too good at deceiving us from truths that we unconsciously obscure), magazine clippings for collages, and journals. I have recently been collecting pins because they personalize whatever it is you put on them–– I have pin collections on my backpack and denim jacket. There were pins that were scans of Monet’s water lilies, a Renoir, and the The Great Wave. Although I love Monet, at that moment, I felt more drawn to The Great Wave, and I can’t explain what influenced that tiny ebb of a gravitational pull. I am such an indecisive person and I can easily change my mind. In a way, this can be seen as the virtue of flexibility, which is much needed in our ever-changing world, but it has been my downfall too many times, especially in my most critical life decisions.

One thing I have observed that is not valued as much is intuition. We as a society are taught that evidence and logic should be at the forefront of worldly operations. It’s the bread and butter of law and science. Even outside of these academic realms, we don’t feel like our observations and thoughts are validated unless we have something to back it up. Evidence and logic even influence our relationships, whether we feel like someone reciprocates our affections, cares for us, or is worth keeping around based on our give and take. But intuition is totally opposite from this concept, because it’s not based on evidence and logic, it’s based on what we call “our gut feeling.” Sometimes, when you ask people for advice they say “go with your gut,” but evidence and logic whisper they should be consulted first because it’s hard to trust our own feelings, especially when they have engulfed us so deeply that we need to seek others.

The force in that moment of choosing between the Monet and the Hokusai was intuition. That’s the other nonsensical thing about intuition–– there is not much of an explanation. ironically, though society indirectly communicates that intuition is not as important, what do we hear from most people’s love stories? “I knew he/she was the one. i just knew.” There was a grasp inside of me clutching onto the part of my brain that was flashing “Hokusai, Hokusai.” And I could not ignore it.

Little did I know how significant and apparent this painting would be after my visit to the Met.

A month before my trip, I received exciting news that I got an interview for an fellowship. It was my first post-grad choice. I would live and work in an Asian country for a year, and my heart was set on working at a newspaper so I could develop professional experience in journalism while also living abroad, which has always been a dream of mine. This soothed me because I was going through an emotionally hard time, trying to figure out my self-worth and also, my confidence.

After the interview, I made my way towards the Metro station right outside of Georgetown. I walked away from the interview feeling good about myself and my chances of landing the fellowship. As soon as I walked under the campus gates, and crossed the street, there it was, in front of me–– The Great Wave, but much, much greater. It was a direct copy of the painting, but in the form of a wall mural.

At this point, when I felt like this opportunity could possibly be my ticket to happiness and a full life, this appeared and changed my whole perception of the painting. In such a large scale, the illustration is clearer to see. In this mural, I noticed there were boats and people in the midst of the wave, and I never noticed that before. I remember being perplexed and I felt like I had lost my bearings. Did the original not have boats and people? Did the artist just add them in?

Then, a little later, as I walked past my housemate’s room, I noticed she had a poster of The Great Wave on her wall. It had the boats and people, so I realized that I failed to see it the first time. I told her about my discovery, and she also was surprised–– she hadn’t noticed their presence before either.

The passengers in the boat makes the painting so much more epic than just the sheer magnitude of the wave itself. They’re on the cusp of the inevitable descent, but this is a piece of art frozen in time. In the world of the painting, the wave will never fall–– it will be curved in that arc forever. So the passengers are still safe, untouched.

The Great Wave kept appearing. When I was walking with my friend, I was wearing the denim jacket with the pin, and he complimented me on it. I started talking about where I got the pin from, when a girl crosses paths with us, and she’s wearing a shirt with the Great Wave. I don’t believe in coincidences, because I don’t think certain things just “seem to happen.” I believe everything has a purpose. I felt like it was eerie to encounter the painting when I was just talking about it.

And then I saw it again, in the form of a poster in the hallway when i walked out of the bathroom.

Finally, I saw it at a playground we passed by on the way to church. Yes, a playground. It was printed on the side of a play set, except it wasn’t exactly like the painting. Someone added fish in free-fall, floating above the waves.

I knew there had to be some meaning to this repeated encounter. I felt like it was following me and was prodding into my life, trying to deliver a message. Like I habitually do, I assigned life to an unconscious thing. Physically it was, but art is never truly unconscious. We have spaces dedicated to housing works of art because they are magnetic, pulsing lifeforms demanded to be seen, admired, even repulsed by.

I felt like I had to write about this, but a voice (again, that intuition) was telling me to hold off on it. I had to wait for something big to happen to prompt a comprehensive written thought.

As the weeks went on with no reply from the fellowship, I became discouraged. In order to keep my expectations low and to subside my disappointment, I told myself that I got rejected. I do this a lot with notifications and responses–– it helps soften the blow. When I did get the email saying I didn’t make it, however, the rejection hurt, raw and real. My mind immediately jumped to conclusions: What made certain people more qualified than me? Was it their school? Was I over-qualified even? Even though I mentally prepared for this kind of answer, it’s clear that it didn’t actually prepare me. Instead, I found myself in the same mindset whenever I encounter rejections. I play the comparison game and comparison always wins. It always wins because I can find every single thing possible to compare myself with. I also play the “coulda shoulda woulda” game and the hypothetical always wins, because I can easily pinpoint that I could have done something else to make me first choice, not second, or last.

A day after the news, the pain was still fresh. But as time went on, scrambling to apply to jobs and other fellowships bandaged the wound of rejection. It was an antidote of security. If I could just find something else to replace that void, if I could feel validated that someone saw me as worthy that they would hire me, then I would be okay. All this information and work was piling and weighing down. Instead of healing me, it burdened me.

Then I let comparison involuntarily enter because it has been a frequent guest in my mind, making itself too comfortable in that space, stretching itself to fill the room of worthiness narrowing ever so slightly.

I felt like the passenger in the boat face to face with the wave crashing towards me. We like to use the metaphor of a wave crashing over when we go through obstacles, and I don’t really know why. Maybe it’s because water is soothing, pure, and the liquid of life. I have always been afraid of waves. There’s a video of me when I was four at a beach in California. I was traipsing through the shallow part of the sea, when suddenly, I got submerged from a wave I wasn’t expecting, and I emerged from it, full-on sobbing. I think that traumatized me in the long-run, because I have been wary of going in what I call treacherous seas (basically anything that isn’t still and calm).

The wave I experienced, of feeling lost and unworthy, is more painful than the wave that crushed my four year old body. Though I cannot see it or touch it, I too easily feel it.

Through recommendations via Instagram posts (social media can do good, cynics), I decided to read New Seeds of Contemplation by Thomas Merton. In a small step of instilling discipline, instead of ordering it, I checked it out from the library to save money (though I do foresee buying a copy for myself because it’s just that good). Every other page is underlined because he so clearly communicates truths about our identity in Christ. One of the most convicting passages is this:

“All things, except our own sins, are carried and come to us in the waters of this pure and irresistible stream.

If we accept them in tranquility, submitting to the pressure of the waves by a clean and unquestioning faith and a love perfect and detached from all resistance, God’s will enters into the depths of our own freedom and carries our lives and all our acts and desires away on the tide of his own joy. True peace is only found by those who have learned to ride and swim with the strong current of this stream. For them life becomes simple and easy. Every moment is rich in happiness. All events are intelligible, if not in their deaths at least in their relation to the great wholeness of life.

But if we refuse to accept His will (and this is sin) we are nevertheless overwhelmed by the flood which no power can resist.”

Thomas Merton was describing my condition and the decision before me–– to resist God and keep going my own way by concocting my own medicine or to kneel by his streams of mercy and goodness and submit myself to drink from it.

I don’t like to submit. I question authority figures and don’t always follow what they say. I am prideful and independent, sometimes to a fault. Even though I have gone through so many trial-and-error experiences where error resulted most often, I have fallen into the same patterns. And yet God lavishes the most incomprehensible, undeserving grace. I have found myself in the same position twice before where I have been totally lost with the direction of my life. And then a month later, things start to fall into place and God gives me what I had desired.

I know that God will provide a few months down the road, and it will probably be the most surprising, satisfying blessing ever. In the meantime, this is what I want:

I want peace. I want stillness from the rushing streams of his goodness at work, flowing into the cavern of my heart that must empty itself to store it there, because I know only this can come from Him who created me and knows my very being. And this can be found in no one else, nowhere else.

#writing

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