#and Ruby is their biggest fan

[smthleon]

NORMAN IS REDS FATHER THEORY.

i briefly spoke about how I saw Red & may as siblings before in old posts. but I felt like I needed to introduce this to the plate 2 show what goings on in my sick and twisted mind.

BUT IM CURIOUS, what do yall think..

(ignore how I forgot 2 mention hgss.)

[theyvegotnobreeches]

I'M SORRY (tt)

[unabashedllamamusic]

Despite being a huge Doctor Who fan since middle school (I'll let you all guess when that was), I'm experiencing this season in a very different way. I'm American, never had access to BBC America, and didn't have a tumblr until fairly recently. Meaning until now I was never able to watch episodes as they aired or see tumblr's commentary and thoughts on them. I've always been playing catch-up, dodging spoilers, and seeing everyone's reviews long before I was able to binge the seasons. And yk what? This shit's fucking great. Everyone went from 'oh this is fucking brilliant' at the specials to 'wtf' with Space Babies to 'JESUS CHRIST THIS IS PEAK CINEMA' at 73 yards and boom. And i totally agree. 9's always been my favorite doctor, having RTD back in the showrunner's seat is amazing. And while Space Babies and the one with the Beatles were amazingly wonky and the perfect amount of Doctor Who-y batshit crazy, and I did enjoy them, the past couple episodes have just been spectacular. Haven't felt this moved by Doctor Who since Clara was the companion, and it feels so good to be back. I forgot how much I love this show.

[spacetimeaccordionfolder]

wait wait hang on (spoilers for RWBY vol 8 and 9)

you know how in some fan art of theorized Penny 3.0 she has scars on her chest from Cinder's attack in vol 8 and how there was that one theory that Ruby has scars from CC's attack in vol 9 the nuts and dolts of it all having almost matching scars where someone tried to kill them

[confusedspaceotter]

look we all know is RTD 2 but come on…

[gidianthe]

watching doctor who aka all u think about is ur mutuals posts about how sanitized and companion-retirement-home UNIT has become and getting really mad

[starboundsingularities]

I NEED TO BE OBNOXIOUS ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVED THAT ACE ATTORNEY LAWBLR SIM YOU MADE BECAUSE OH MY GOD IT MADE ME LOSE MY SHIT. I definitely can tell you put genuine effort into making that silly little thang and I wish that it would have 10,000 notes like right this minute. Hellsite hall of fame if you’re reading this please reblog this person’s ace attorney lawblr sim because it deserves an award

i think this is one of the nicest asks i've ever gotten thank you so so much (I'M RAMBLING IN THE TAGS SO MUCH BTW. if you want insight into the thought process or anything)

[rubyreadd]

Chat how are we feeling about a potential username change?

[jils-things]

its so funny to realize that jaide stone is surrounded by the flashiest people alive /affectionate

[genderqueerspacewives]

idk if everyone's just been uncommonly positive about the newest ep, but i tried the novel thing of not scouring through the tag to find every single post about it and would you guess what happened. im not feeling an extreme feeling of dread about it.

[skylordhorus]

honestly ive been struggling to not come up w rock types for this west country pokemon region lmao and im thinking i should maybe just lean into it what with the prominent mining history, the jurassic coast, the devonian period literally being named after the county of devon etc

(although i did have pokemon cream and pokemon jam as placeholder name versions ghldhjlk i settled on tin and copper versions (for now), which is More Geology)

but if i did that, im wondering if i should expand further out into dorset (and maybe somerset whilst im at it) since although lyme bay covers devon too, lyme regis and charmouth are in dorset and are particularly famous for their fossils and palaeontological history and it would feel weird to leave them out if i went in the geology direction

[hero-in-high-tops]

Bro why she kinda 😳

[rubys-domain]

since for some reason i just refuse to go to sleep, might as well finish the archon quest on the alt right?

[internecion-witch]

Ok ive got a highly specific prediction for the general plot points for the next episode or two:

Ruby is obviously struggling right now, and is in no shape to be heroing. So of course the entire team is going to stumble on some sort of problem, it doesn't have to be specific, maybe it's Neo, maybe not. I'm just going to call it the problem.

Blake immediately volunteers RWBY to help solve the problem, and they all split up, Ruby and Weiss go do two separate things and Blake and Yang stay to help locally.

Whatever Weiss does isn't important. But it is important that whatever Ruby does, she fucks up, badly. Maybe she gets someone killed, maybe she just outright failed, the point is she feels like even less of a Huntress than ever.

Yang and Blake are having an easy enough time together. they do well, and handle their part of the problem. They're alone for the first time since they all fell and we finally get the Bees kiss.

Then Ruby walks in, at her complete low point, to the Bees complete high point. Leveraging the fact that bees are cannon into even more ammunition to completely destroy Ruby with.

Ruby cannot even fathom how if this is really the fucking time for this, right now? The problem is coming Weiss is somewhere and they're spending their time doing this!?!?

[mariasont]

Please, Don't Prove 'Em Right - A.H

a/n: my girl sabrina can do no wrong and i have been listening to this song on repeat since it came out so i just absolutely needed to write a fic about it

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: aaron hotchner is a busy man and he tends to disappoint you by missing important events

warnings: angst (sorry in advance), aaron is like not a great husband, reader is also an imperfect character, reader is a girl boss though

wc: 1.2k

You were in your best dress. More expensive than you'd ever think about buying for yourself, but it had been a gift from Aaron. You had fought him on it, scolding him for spending so much on a dress you were sure to only wear once. But he had insisted, telling you that this opportunity was once in a lifetime and that it would be a sin for it to not be celebrated with a dress that made you shine like a ruby.

He was right, partly, you were shining--glowing, sparkling, glittering--as you moved through the library. It was beautiful, to say the least--all opulence and history that was almost too much to absorb. The marble floors almost seemed to amplify the conversations around you, the clinking of glasses, the swish of overpriced gowns and tuxedos.

Your eyes settled on the tiered desks fitted with bronze reading lamps, now repurposed as a station for hors d'oeuvres and champagne. The circular arrangement of desks, once centered around knowledge, now facilitated hushed gossip and the discreet laughter of society's finest.

You could almost hear what they were thinking: there she is again without her husband, that poor thing always by herself, and your personal favorite—does he even exist?

You wanted to be angry, to scold their prying eyes, for putting their noses into something that had nothing to do with them whatsoever. But could you really blame them? Every event you attended you told the same story--my husband is a busy man with an important job--a line you had grown tired of repeating. 

And that was all true. He devoted most of his time to saving lives--how could you find fault in that? How could you complain to having a husband whose very essence was self-sacrifice and heroism?

This evening was set to be an exception; he was in New York for a case, and the Pulitzer Prize ceremony was not something he would miss. He had given you his word.

You understood his passion for his job, completely, because you held that same passion for your own. You dedicated years of your life to your journalism, investigating corruption at its highest levels. This is exactly how you ended up here tonight, nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for that very work. A Pulitzer Prize.

The term once seemed like a fantastical concept to you, a lofty accolade reserved for the likes of JFK, Bob Dylan, Robert Frost--icons, not someone as ordinary as you. Yet, against all odds, you find yourself among the select few, a nominee for an honor that has only been won by 1,512 individuals since 1917, a fact Spencer had supplied you with.

Someone was speaking to you, saying your name. Almost without thinking, your hand found a flute of champagne, taking a generous sip before turning to face them.

"You look stunning, and a well-deserved congratulations are in order. Everyone back at the office is cheering for you." It was your boss, her stilettos adding inches to her already imposing frame.

The flattery didn't quite mask her usual coldness, it was all too artificial. She wasn't your biggest fan, and she had made that clear from your first day. Still, you mustered a smile and thanked her anyway, taking another sip of champagne, hoping to drown away her nauseating voice.

"It's too bad your husband couldn't be here," she began, and you had to resist the urge to rip out her extensions. "This is an incredible accomplishment, but he's quite the busy man, as you say."

"Yes, he is busy, but he'll be here tonight," you replied, flashing her your best smile as you smoothed the red fabric that suddenly felt too tight. "He's actually here in New York on a case."

"Oh, how great. I can't wait to put a face to the name." You could tell by the look she shot her own husband that she didn't believe a word from your mouth. "Anyway, I have to go speak with an academy representative, but I'll see you and your husband at the ceremony?"

You responded with a nod, not dignifying her with words as she left, her giggles a bitter sound. You hated her. And you were ready to make her eat her words when your husband, who looked absolutely incredibly in a suit, showed up.

But then it was dinner, and you found yourself alone, surrounded by a table of important people whose names you couldn't remember. The seat beside you was empty and suddenly that omnipotent, cloud-nine feeling you had vanished with the time that passed.

The text you sent piled up, feeling a little juvenile, like you were back in high school again getting stood up at prom.

Let me know when you're close!

Is everything going okay?

Call me if you can.

An onslaught of anxious thoughts skyrocketed around your mind as you mechanically chewed the fancy food that only seemed to upset your stomach further. What if something happened? Was he okay? Did the case go wrong? Did he get in a car accident on the way here?

You were a bundle of nerves, gnawing on the inside of your mouth as your heel tapped up and down against the floor. But this wasn't borne from concern for his well-being; deep down, you were certain he was fine. The truth was simpler and sharper: he wasn't coming.

You should have been prepared, should have braced for this, but you were convinced that this time, this occasion would be an exception.

You name was being called, but this time not by someone wanting to extract prying information or stir speculation, no, this time it was carried across the crowed, wrapped in the microphone's static hum.

Your head snapped up, fingers ceasing their fidgeting as you struggled to mask the shock and avoid the gaping, breathless look of a fish out of water.

You had won.

People were clapped, but it seemed far away as you made your way to the stage, hands coming from all directions to offer pats on the back and handshakes of congratulations.

You had won.

Your feet were carrying you up a small set of stairs. You were trying to remember how to walk--left, right, heel, toe. There was a bright light on you now, prompting a slight squint and you worked to keep a smile on your face as you accepted the award.

You had to be dreaming. Had to be. There was no other explanation.

You were on display now, under the intense stage lights. Your body was on autopilot, stepping behind the podium, words flowing out of your mouth--a speech you had rehearsed over and over again in the slim chance that you would win. And here you are.

But the more you spoke the more you seemed to deviate from the script.

You paused, voice catching as you tried your best not to let the tears fall--your makeup was too pristine for smears.

"But tonight, as I accept this honor, I am reminded that while we may seek comfort in the presence of others, our truest strength comes from within." Your eyes dart around the audience, clinging to the slim chance he's there, that he showed up. "It comes from knowing that when we step into the moment, we step in with conviction, with passion, and sometimes, with a singularity that says we are enough."

The final words of your speech hang in the air, a brittle hope that disappears as quickly as it surfaced. He proved them right, and no amount of applause can drown out the sound of your heart breaking just a little.

part 2

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179