#being corporate lawyer is also good

[mountmasns]

.

[cursingtoji]

ᥫ᭡ — EXECUTIVE AFFAIRS: In a cutthroat world of boardroom battles and power struggles, you must navigate ambition , corporate intrigue, and unexpected love affairs.

✧ PRELUDE

— contents: CEO!reader, construction worker!Toji, lawyer!Nanami, therapist!Geto, ex-husband!Gojo; power imbalance, sexual frustration, manipulation, use of 'darling', 'baby', 'dear' & 'boss', 4k words, on-going series

— note: osha is the occupational safety and health administration agency in the USA, even tho i'm not american seems easier to just say osha (also a fun word to pronunce)

A young man opens the rear door of the Jaguar as soon as your driver stops by the construction site, “This way ma’am” you accept his hand, touching the cement with your stiletto first before getting out of the vehicle.

As scheduled you are heading to a meeting with the architect responsible for this particular project, a big one. Normally the CEO wouldn’t be involved in such routine visits like this, but you definitely don’t want to be like the previous CEO, who barely stepped out of his office for anything.

Besides, you have to make a good impression with the other directors that would be there today as well, and what better way to do that if not going to the construction site yourself, even though you clearly do not belong there given the way your heel wobbled as soon as it touched the uneven ground.

“Excuse me, miss” you’re stopped by a man twice your size — horizontally and almost vertically — extending a white helmet in your direction, “I’m sure that hair costed a lot and you don’t wanna cover it, but every person on site, even the ladies, ‘gotta wear it.”

You stand a bit shocked at the man addressing you like it’s not your last name on his uniform.

“Mr. Fushiguro, I should inform you that it’s your CEO you’re talking to” the boy beside you speaks up, he’s wearing a white helmet and the unknown man a yellow one.

“Great, so you are able to afford the OSHA fine if they decide today is a good day for inspection, but I’d rather not have another pointless safety training just ‘cause no one had the balls to tell you to protect your pretty ‘lil head” his expression doesn’t change a bit with the new information. You find that respectable, especially having so many people stuttering when talking to you.

If you were to say that you don’t get even a little bit amused by people being nervous in your presence Nanami would have to warn you about perjury. 

It’s quite a change to have a blue collar employee sticking to the rules and not batting an eye when the highest possible authority of the company is standing right in front of him, especially when that someone looks like he just got out of a sexy construction men calendar… not that you have ever seen one of those. That’s just what you think they might look like, plus that scar only adds up to fantasy.

You clean your throat, “I appreciate your work ethic, Mr. Fushiguro” you repeat the name so you won’t forget, “I wasn’t aware of the rules” you side-look the young man beside you who’s now staring at his own feet embarrassed since it was his duty to inform you.

“Call me Toji” you take the helmet and put it on, “By the way, you’re supposed to wear trousers too and… literally anything but that” he points with his chin to your high heels thinking how that alone was a safety hazard not just on a construction site. Toji leans closer “but I’ll let it slide, ‘cause you have quite beautiful legs.”

You are left mouth agape, internally appreciating that he didn’t say that out loud — after all being sexualized when you are trying to impose respect would require you to put a show and fire the man — but also makes you question if he was straight forward with you because of his work ethics or because he does not respect you as his superior. 

Not that you wouldn’t let him do disrespectful things to you, but still!

You’re taken to where the rest of the directors are, they’re easy to spot — a bunch of men in suits that clearly don’t belong to the place — surrounding a table with the blue prints. They greet you and you realize this is the first time you see all of them around a table and not sitting, poor guys must be dying for a room with AC right now.

It’s not like you belonged there either, with your tailor made beige suit that had a pencil skirt instead of the newly-discovered-necessary trousers and how-the-fuck-you-thought-that-was-a-good-idea high heels. But in your own defense you did visit a lot of construction sites when you first started at the company all those years ago and that’s much more than the white collar men in front of you can say.

The main architect starts to give you all an status of the project being interrupted by the senior engineer every few minutes, the last one clearly thinking he’s better than the first even though neither of them lifts a finger in this ground.

Your sight is drawn to the man that scolded you before, while the architect is pointing to something on top of the construction and everyone else is shielding their eyes from the sun to find it, you’re looking straight ahead to Toji who’s currently lifting an apparently very heavy sack of cement on his shoulder and taking it all across the site. God, he’s strong.

His handsome face shines with sweat, you’re sure the wife beater he has on also violates some OSHA code, but who would be crazy enough to report that? Not you for sure, the view is worth the OSHA fine.

Especially when he drops the sack with a grunt and uses the shirt to wipe his face, revealing a torso you’re sure Michelangelo would die to use as inspiration to sculpt into marble then having people saying ‘whoa that’s real art’. 

You wonder if someone would scream at you for touching that piece of art.

Unfortunately you don’t expect to get caught ogling by the subject himself. So the best thing you can do is find whatever the architect is pointing to and pretend to pay attention like you should have from the beginning instead of eye fucking one of your employees.

“Hey, boss” you hear on your way out of the site and back to your cozy office where you wouldn’t get your ankle broken that easily. You turn around and see Toji catwalking his way to you.

“Technically I'm out of the hazard zone, mr. Fushiguro” you justify your lack of a helmet which you ditched a few seconds ago.

“Toji” he corrects you, taking his own helmet off “and I’m not this uptight, unlike some people here today” he mutters the last part looking behind him to some of the directors that seemed to be looking for tiny errors on the project so they could fix it and justify being there.

“Well, what can I do for you?”

“I’m pretty sure you're being robbed.” 

“What?” you look around, “What do you mean?”

“You’re paying for double the stuff that’s actually being delivered” he took a sheet of folded paper out of his pants, you reach for it but he pulls it back, “I have proof and I can say names.”

“Did you say that to your field supervisor?”

“Please, who do ya think it’s signin’ under this?” he rolls his eyes.

“So you came to the CEO instead? You’re going behind some big backs here, sir.”

“Look, miss, I want a promotion, I know a lot of big shots will go down for this and I’m the only one capable of handling the people here. Besides I stand by what I said before, no one has the guts to do this so I’m taking a big risk and I deserve compensation” he hands back the paper and this time he let you take it. You stare into his deep green eyes suspiciously, the man has the looks of a fantasy villain with his sharp features and dark eyelashes, you're not entirely sure if you should believe him.

“Give your number to my assistant, we’ll schedule a meeting in the office, you tell me everything you know and I see what I can do about it.”

“In the office? Didn’t know you allowed commonores in your castle” he smirks.

“Only the pretty ones” you wink and his smile grows wider. 

“How long have you known about this?” Nanami questions.

“Not even 24 hours” you sit on your white couch signing for him to take the seat in front of you.

Your lawyer does that thing you find really hot where he unbuttons the coat of his five digit worth suit before sitting down. You admire Nanami’s elegance while he roams his eyes through the paper, he has a vest between the coat and the dress shirt. Navy blue suits him so well, matches his eyes. He makes you think every man should wear vests, but of course not every man can pull it off. Honestly, you find it hard to believe there's anything Nanami can’t pull off, but you haven't seen your lawyer without a suit… ever. 

Maybe he looks bad with a plain T-shirt? 

No way. 

Perhaps with an overall and cowboy hat? 

Mmm the image makes you wanna ride something. 

What about emo hair, eyeliner and a band tee? 

No, you can’t imagine Kento with emo hair, no chance he had a rebellious phase except if his parents wanted him to be a surgeon and he became the best lawyer in the city just to piss them off. 

“I’m glad you came to me first, but we’ll need to involve auditing and probably internal affairs. That’ll probably put the project on hold for some weeks, also I’ll need more evidence than this” he shook the one paper sheet that was merely a quotation of supplies even you could understand is way too much for a single building.

“I got the guy for that, say the word and Yuuta will arrange a meeting” you pointed to your assistant sitting outside.

“Tell me, dear” he put the sheet aside, taking that posture that intimidated you a bit, “A blue collar worker just saw your pretty self on the site and handed criminal evidence? Just like that?”

You open your mouth, thinking what to say that won’t sound like you are being taken advantage of, and failing.

“Oh darling” he says a bit too condescendingly for someone that technically works for you, “Thought I told you about being too naive” he leans on the couch, making himself comfortable like you’re about to have The Talk.

“Kento, is not like that” you cross your arms defensively, “He said he wants a promotion, how risky that would be?”

“Thought you would say that” he takes his phone and hands it to you, “So I did my own little research.”

“What’s this?” you find yourself looking at a picture of the man you met yesterday. 

Only now you could see tiny numbers behind him indicating his height and he held a plaque with his name. He looks way younger, still very handsome, you wonder how popular he used to be in his youth, with a face like that and the implication he was arrested was enough to make every girl’s bad-boy-dream come true.

“What was he accused of?” you ask out of curiosity.

“Not relevant, also sealed records” he breaks eye contact and that’s enough for you to understand he actually knows it and he did not get this information by any legal means.

“So what? The man got a bit of trouble with the law when he was young” you shrug, remembering even your ex husband had a little rich boy “criminal” file, if you can even call the dumb shit he did outta spite for his parents an actual crime.

“HR will find out about this, then you’re going to have to justify why you’re recommending a filled man for a managing position.”

“And I’ll tell them he actually found out about a theft scheme and whatever public-pissing crime he did will surely be overlooked.”

“Darling, you have to start thinking about your image, we’ve been through that before” he tilts his head.

“You don’t like my image?” you question playfully twirling your hair, Nanami smiles for a brief second.

“You know what I mean: your image towards the board, you barely made the votes necessary to be where you are today.”

Indeed, you owned the company and no one could take that away, but the CEO position needed to be voted and you only got the necessary votes because your ex-husband had the strongest voting rights and part of the divorce agreement was that he voted for you, so his, plus a few more other members of the board's votes and you made chief executive officer.

“Fine, then write a contract, he tells everything including testify if he has to in exchange of the supervisor position and I’ll pitch it to the board before any decisions are made” you uncross your arms raising from your seat.

Bringing the board into the conversation made you nervous, most of them don't like you and you’ve been trying to prove yourself for months. Even though you worked your ass off way before marrying the owner all they saw was a hurt ex-wife making pretend.

“Atta girl” Nanami raises too, buttoning his coat back and placing his hands on your tense shoulders. Nanami smells like what you think it should be every handsome lawyer's trademark scent, cause damn that smell would make you sign anything he gives you.

“Don’t worry much, you’re doing great” he presses a bit and you melt.

“Take me out to lunch?” you pout.

“I would love to” he lets go of your shoulder, “Unfortunately I have a hearing, but I'll be back for that meeting soon, okay?”

You sigh in defeat, getting even a few minutes of Nanami’s time for yourself is as hard as it can get, only a corruption scheme to get him to come to your office in such short notice.

“Ma’am” Yuuta says from the speakerphone, “Your ex-husband is calling” you groan, throwing your head back.

Of course he would want to interrupt your moment with Nanami.

“I can get you a restriction order” your lawyer offers jokily (or not).

Aside from being the company's lawyer, Nanami Kento was also your divorce attorney, which you managed to get only after agreeing to give him your company's account if he managed to land you the CEO position. Like everything in this merciless corporate world, it was give and take, you got what you wanted – not surprisingly so, afterall Nanami, even though is not a divorce specialist, is the best. Still, you like to think of him being more than another contractor of yours.

“I appreciate the offering” you smile tiredly, Nanami kisses your hand like the gentleman he is before leaving your office, “Yuuta, I’ll take him– it. I’ll take the call” you sit back behind your desk massaging your temple “Put him through.”

“Hello, beautiful” he greets over the speakerphone in that always so cheerful tone.

“Satoru, what do you want?”

“No chit-chat? It’s the least you could do for me after I gave you the company” entitled as always…

“You didn’t give it to me, you gave it up for the rest of your assets” you remind, already sick of this same discussion over and over.

When the divorce was officially on the table you told Kento exactly what you wanted: the company. The one thing you knew your ex husband would hate to lose, but also didn’t love as much as his lifestyle – which would be brutally affected if you decided to go for the 50% you were entitled to.

So through a carefully written agreement you accepted way less than you were owed in the form of full ownership of the respected construction company and title of chief executive officer.

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other. How have you been?”

“Fine. Just tell me what you want, I actually take this job seriously and have important things to do.”

Oh god, he would tease you so bad if he knew about the corruption scheme, and the worst part is that, eventually, he will know. Gojo has ears everywhere around here.

“Nanami” he says simply. You start to look around your office, wondering if he has cameras there.

“You… want… Nanami?”

“Yes, beautiful” he confirms slowly like he's talking to a kid that has just learned the alphabet.

“Why? You know what? Nevermind, I don't want to know. No, you can’t have him” you lean on your chair, denying Gojo gives you great satisfaction.

“It’s not for any bullshit reason, alright?”

“I don’t care, Satoru. Besides, I don’t own Kento, you can approach him anytime” you smile knowing he would never be able to do that without you.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart?” condescension drips from your phone and onto your desk, “He won’t represent me even if I run for president.”

“So you need legal representation? You’re not calling me from jail, are you Satoru?” you mirror his condescending tone, surely he can hear the smile in your voice.

“Thought you didn't care, or would you bail me out? Oh wait, I forgot, you don’t have the money for that” he laughs, arguing was never a thing with him, he would mock you and find a way to make you doubt your accusations. Gaslighting is it? “I’ll give it a shot, just so you know, but this is a great opportunity for you to ask something in return.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Think about it, baby, I’m sure there's plenty of things I can do for you” his tone is lower, more seductive.

“Doubt it” you roll your eyes hearing his chuckle.

“Yeah? When was the last time you had–” 

You hang up.

Then sigh loudly and press the button to talk to Yuuta.

“Yes, ma’am?” you scrunch your nose, still not used to being called that, Nanami said you should let your sweet assistant call you ma'am or madam at least in front of others since you could use the recognition of your authority.

“Please put Geto on the line.”

“Certainly” you wait, stepping out of your heels and digging your toes on the fluff carpet under the table.

“Hi, doc” you salute your psychologist.

“Sugar, I told you there’s no need to address me like that, hurts my feelings” his honeyed voice is everything you need to hear in such stressful times.

“It does? Maybe you should see a therapist to talk about that, I have a great recommendation” you can’t help but smile like a little girl when talking to him, being playful is a way to cope with your harmless crush.

“Just great?”

“He’s the best, I can assure you” he laughs, “Do you have a few minutes?”

“For you, absolutely” your face warms up then you remember the subject of the call and cools down again.

“It’s Satoru.”

‘It’s always Satoru’ Geto thinks.

“He just called wanting something, I told him no and he made that same old joke about me not having money” you huffed.

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Helpless? I don't know, he must think I’m poor now or something” which is ridiculous, you’re not nearly close to his patrimony as you used to when you were married but what you have is still fuckload more than what it takes to be considered poor.

“He’s trying to remind you of what you lost when you left him, this is just another manipulation technique, my love. Don’t let him get in your head” you need this as a mantra to hear every time your ex-husband calls, “Did he bring up sex this time?”

“No, but he was about to.”

“And what did you say?”

“Hanged up” you hear him snorting.

“Well, that can work on the phone, but what if you were talking face to face? What would you have done?”

Geto knows a lot about you. Obviously since you pay him to listen while you ramble and complain. Still, feels overwhelming having someone recalling your previous actions, especially the ones you're not exactly proud of.

“Tell him to shut up, throw a stapler on him, call security, threaten him with a restriction order.”

“Would you really?” Geto likes to take a joke you make and dig on that.

“Well, probably not the last two…” 

“Have you been looking up restriction orders?”

“No, that was a joke my lawyer made early. A restriction order would be too… bureaucratic? Also unnecessary, afterall Satoru he never physically hurt me or threatened to.”

“That would be a good way of making him leave you alone for a while since you're not able to fully detach from him” you sat up.

“That's not true! I’ve been doing everything by myself lately, don't even have time to think about him! I’m detached, doc.”

“Wanna know what I think you would have done if he made that sexual comment face to face with you?” you gulp and Geto takes your silence as consent to continue, “I think you would let him go forward with it.”

You make an offended sound but don't fight his statement, “And what would happen next?” he tones the question like a professor trying to make the class complete a sentence, you keep your head down and mouth shut, “You would’ve let him sweet talk you into sleeping with him again.”

“You don't know that” you murmur.

“It’s a pattern, love. This is how abusive husbands keep their wives from leaving them or even telling anyone about the abuse. They use sex to make them think how good it is to be with them despite everything else.”

“Satoru was not abusive.” you defend your ex-husband firmly, “And I already left him!” you defend yourself less firmly.

“And he still thinks he can have you back! You know why?”

“Because I’m a catch that he shouldn’t have cheated?” Geto stays quiet for a few seconds and you feel a lump in your throat forming. The comment was supposed to sound more like a joke but you're still too hurt for that , clearly.

“That as well, but you really think he regrets it?”

“He seemed pretty sorry in the divorce mediation” you murmur recalling his lost-puppy expression.

“The meeting where he signed a paper that would make him lose his company and his wife? Gee I wonder why” the little sarcastic remark made you smile and shake your head, your psychologist using sarcasm against you is quite funny, “My point is, if you really want to be independent from him you ‘gotta stop letting yourself be attracted back like a magnet” you let his words sink in hearing some papers being ruffled on his side.

“I’m giving you homework.”

“Oh no…”

“Find your sexuality by yourself, you can watch porn, masturbate or even better: have sex with someone. Anyone but Satoru, because right now that’s what he’s using to control you.”

“Geto, I don’t know about this. Porn is too gross, masturbation is too ineffective and sex is too…” you trail off.

“Vulnerable?” he completes.

“I guess…”

“It’s been a few months since you last slept with Satoru, right? What’re you feeling?”

“What do you mean?” you rub your face.

“You know what I mean” he's strict and you let out a long sigh.

“I feel frustrated, sometimes stressed and distracted” all caused by the men you have to deal with including the handsome psychologist putting some sense in you. Not exactly what you wanted him to put in, but oh well…

“Exactly, in your current state it’s only a matter of time until you end up on his bed. You gotta decide if you are willing to: find porn that is not gross, masturbate more effectively or let yourself relax and be vulnerable.”

Is easy to like Geto Suguru, he’s handsome, has a sweet voice, he listens without interrupting (manterrupting is a big no-no for this job thankfully). Though sometimes it’s easy to hate him too, you have to remember he's saying what you need to hear not what you want to, even if your ears could use some tickling from time to time.

“Still with me?” he asks after you remain quiet.

“Yes, doc” he says your name in a warning tone, “Sorry, Suguru.”

“All good for our appointment next week?”

“Hm” your thoughts go to the newly found out corruption scheme that will need your attention the following days, “I’ll ask Yuuta to confirm with your secretary alright?”

“Whatever works best for you, love.”

“Bye, Suguru.”

“Don’t forget your homework.”

🏷️ @rinntvrou @sakurasimppp @sad-darksoul — to be tagged in future works of this series please comment “@ me” in this post.

note: i’m not sure if tickle the ears is a known term worldwide but means “saying or suggesting things to please even if untrue”. also i have some big plans for kinktober so next chapter might take a little while to be posted, let me know your thoughts <3

© all content belongs to cursingtoji; do not repost!

[evangelinesbible]

YOUR 4H AND YOUR FUTURE SPOUSES CAREER(S)

Derivative astrology timeee

7H = Spouse/ Marriage

10H = Career

10 houses away from the 7H is the 4H

SUN/LEO

Your FS will probably be someone who is quite popular or even famous in their career field. They’re probably a very creative person as well. They might potentially be any type of entertainer so, singer, actor, comedian or dancer. They might also have a job that involves children’s entertainment.

MOON/CANCER

Your FS might be a realtor or someone who builds/ flips homes for a living. They might have their own brand/ business that sells self care products. They might also be very creative and artistic so a painter, poet, or singer is very possible as well. They also might be some sort of nurse, teacher, or social worker for children.

MERCURY/ VIRGO/ GEMINI

Your FS might be a writer, journalist, public speaker or teacher. Their career field involves education and/or the mind. Your FS might also be some sort of influencer or their career involves social media. (Specifically for Gemini) Your FS might be some sort of vet, doctor farmer, trainer or life coach. (Specifically for Virgo)

VENUS/ TAURUS/ LIBRA

Your FS might be someone who is very invested in the fashion, art and music world. Specifically for Taurus they might be a singer, interior designer, chef, model, or someone who works with nature. Specifically for Libra they might also be a model, politician, lawyer, couples therapist, or a party/ event planner.

MARS/ARIES

Your FS might be into the athletic field. They themselves might be an athlete or coach a team. They might also be a personal trainer. They might have an independent brand, label or business. They’ll most likely have a job that involves leadership so directing or being a CEO.

JUPITER/SAGITTARIUS

Your FS might be someone who could do any career and they’d be successful at it. Specifically, they might be the most successful in a career that involves traveling and exploring the world. They might be a professional traveler, tour guide, flight attendant, pilot, or professor who teaches abroad

SATURN/ CAPRICORN

Your FS might be into business and marketing. They are most likely into the more corporate side of business and heavily invested in investments and stocks. They might also be some sort of doctor. They also might be apart of a management company or they manage a bunch of people themselves.

URANUS/ AQUARIUS

Your FS might be into all things science and electricity, they might also be a social media influencer as well. They might be some sort of scientist, engineer, electrician, or neurologist. They might have some sort of online business or their career in loves being online. So maybe a YouTuber or Streamer.

NEPTUNE/ PISCES

Your FS might have a career that involves glamor and spirituality. They might va more flexible and laid back job. They might be an actor, musican, producer or singer. They might be into tarot, reading palms, astrology, and they might teach all of these things as well. They might also be into film and photography.

PLUTO/ SCORPIO

Your FS may have a career that is secretive, private or invades their privacy. They might be in a career field that involves research, physiology, investigation, or witchcraft. They might be in a position of power as well so some sort of CEO or business person who is really good at investing. They also might be into the police force, military, or banking.

What’s yours? Mines Scorpio 4H with Pluto/ Moon Sagittarius. 4H ruler being 4H Sagittarius Pluto/ 9H Taurus Mars.💋

-⚜️💫⚜️

[jamesroach]

Respectfully, what the fuck. I am VERY thrilled by the change of events with Homestuck: Beyond Canon and this wasn't in the slightest what I thought you'd do holy shit. Firstly, congrats on getting to be in charge of the project I've already been seeing as you as one of the official/unofficial heads of homestuck since you started communicating more to the fandom on twitter. Secondly, may I ask why you didn't do a reboot instead of a continuation of the comic? reboot could have been better.

Andrew asked me to finish the beyond canon story line, so I'm gonna. We are also working on other things too, though theres is not a ton to say about that yet. I don't want to overpromise when things are still in very early development. Hopefully. HOPEFULLY this is the beginning. I want to try and stay optimistic about that.

I am not a lawyer and I am barely a competent human being so please take this with a grain of salt. From a legal standpoint basically I have Licensed the Homestuck IP. I have full reign to do, technically, whatever I want with the characters and imagery etc. What this means in a more practical sense is that we can make "official" merch, or make money and not be burdened with the corporate financial obligations of previous homestuck projects.

I don't want to get to into it, but for the sake of a little transparency here.. having been involved in many of these projects before it feels very good to be able to make things without having to worry that a large percentage anything the team potentially makes off of it goes to a uncaring corporate third party just for them to not do anything.

I hope that answers some questions you had! Its sunday so I'm here all day if theres anything else I can reasonably answer.

[depresssant]

hades!reader x persephone!geto

also, geto has purple eyes in this bc he originally has purple eyes in the manga.

i love my glorious wife sm 😫

⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤

you liked to think that you had some semblance of control over some aspects of your life.

you were a goddess⏤ruler of the underworld, at that, but sometimes, frustration crept up into your mind and heart like a constricting snake. it made you want to scream, and tear, and blow everything to bits because this wasn't the life you picked for yourself. what? to be overworked to the bone and taken for granted? shit, you felt like the corporate lawyer for olympus, always cleaning up their messes and doing all the dirty work that they didn't want to do.

so, it was frustrating.

you were tired, and done with everything, and just always angry, but this?

this topped it all.

you didn't even bother to glance at the man standing before you. your hand held your pen so tightly it snapped in half. you wanted to yell. you wanted to scream. you wanted to run away. however, that wasn't you.

tossing the shattered pen pieces to the side and making it vanish into thin air, you gave your husband your signature shit-eating grin and leaned back in your office chair. "so what is this? an audience or a little preview of your next play?"

geto suguru titled his head with an expression on his face that you really couldn't decipher. "i assumed you would be a little more eager to see me after being taken from you. i was gone for six straight months."

the mere sight of him pissed you off.

"what can i say, princess? i'm a busy woman. my entire schedule is packed to the brim for ruling over a bunch of⏤you know, dead people⏤so i'm sorry if i cant drop by to say hi. i don't have time for such silly matters."

"it's strange, really." he took a step forward, and there was some strange tone in his voice. you never were good with emotions. "i was gone for six months. kidnapped. my mother took me back so easily it was almost as if... you orchestrated it all."

"..."

"tell me the truth, [name]. it was you who ordered my kidnapping, right?"

"you're... RIGHT! tada! congratulations!" using your magic, you made little bursts of fire combust into ember-like sparkles that imitated confetti. seriously, it took him that long? all this waiting for him to get the hint was finally kicking in! "i hate it break it to you, but you're not bonnie, and i'm not clyde. honestly, i was waiting for you to get the hint. i mean, come on! a god like you doesn't belong in a place like this. all booring and draaab, am i right?"

geto only gazed at you blankly as you rambled off and paced all about the office. there was a vase full of fresh gardenias right on your desk, but it was strange. you weren't the type of person to have flowers in your office. the strong smell of sweet cologne filled the air, and that jacket draped on your chair wasn't yours. no, geto had gone through your plain closet before, and he had never seen a beige jacket like that. 

"who did you have in here?"

you paused mid-word and chuckled. "you sound a little on edge. a friend of mines came over. why? oh, wait! are you jealous, princess? don't worry⏤"

"no. no, i am not."

huh?

the man walked over to the flower vase and grabbed one of the gardenias, just to crush it with his hand. a tight-lipped smile painted his lips, but his eyes darkened. the temperature seemed to have dropped, and the air just changed.

darkly.

"you can have as many lovers as you want. i'll just kill each and every one of them." his tone was low. threatening. "you can torment me as much as you want, i'll still be here."

"i'm sorry? i'm not following?"

"nanami. that's his name, right?"'

okay. why was he was acting strangely. you expected the kidnapping to piss him off, but it wasn't to this extent. and why was he bringing up your friend? he thought you were having an affair. well, he wasn't wrong.

your grin dropped, and you moved to light a new cigarette.

"you'll kill my lovers?"

"so you are having an affair!"

"what about it?"

geto's eyes narrowed, and he tossed the vase across the room. "we're married!"

"you think i want to be married to you? if i could, i would've divorced you straight to tartarus by now! yes! i orchestrated your kidnapping to make zeus realize i don't give a shit about you! i would give up my immortality before even starting to think of you as my real husband!"

catching the vase, you placed it back on your desk. damn it, you had enough of this. he was wasting all of your free time by throwing this little tantrum! why did he care about your business? this marriage was nothing but a business arrangement from zeus himself! his mother didn't want him married to you as much as you didn't want to be married to him. it was her idea to kidnap him, anyways. all your life, you had no control over the decisions made regarding you, so you didn't want to let geto suguru become another example.

and why was he bothered about all of this?

he hated you.

... right?

you turned back to look at geto with a sigh, but he cut you off the second you opened your mouth to speak.

"do you want to know what future the fates offered me?"

"geto, look⏤"

before you could react, he shoved you down to the floor and caged you in between his hands. there was wild look in his lavender-colored eyes, but you didn't push him away. you couldn't.

"the fates offered me the perfect future... with you!" your husband whispered in your ear. "all i have to do is get rid of anybody that will threaten it."

"suguru, i love you. you know that. please, this is⏤"

the man chuckled and shook his head. his hand moved to caress your cheek and, well, your lower lip. "don't try to sell me your smoke and mirrors. i know you're bound by divine contract."

his voice felt like iron bars caging you on the spot.

"you can't use your powers on me without the intention of good, and you have to stay with me forever. what's with the look on your face? you thought i was just some dumb himbo that was unaware of everything?"

"..."

"but that future the fates showed me? it's perfect. you and i will never be apart. all i have to do is just take care of a few things. starting with that nanami of yours."

[wttcsms]

repeat offender, hiromi higuruma.

pairing hiromi higuruma x f!reader  word count 1.9k  synopsis vignettes of hiromi higuruma's life, featuring his inevitable early-onset mid-life crisis, his disillusionment with the justice system, and how he can't seem to shake you off. content contains law partner's daughter!reader, no curses au, corporate/big law lawyer!hiromi, bratty, always trying to get a reaction out of him reader x just trying to survive the day hiromi, slight age gap (hiromi is 26, reader is 20), eventual smut in later parts, sfw but suggestiveauthor's notes something a bit different; just wanted to test out diff narrative formats lol (and also, this was the closest thing in my gdocs to being finished & i feel guilty for not giving y'all new content)

all the wrong dialogue options were chosen here

Despite the ceiling clearance being so high that it’s enough to make a man of his stature feel small and the fact that despite all the warm bodies in this banquet hall right now, it would still be more of a challenge to bump into someone rather than avoiding them; despite the fact that the air conditioning system must be working overtime since he hasn’t felt the need to shrug off his tuxedo jacket once, despite the fact that he’s free to leave at any time he wants since he’s already gone through the obligatory introductions and the empty pleasantries—

—despite it all, Hiromi Higuruma feels trapped. The walls are slowly closing in on him, and someone from across the massive room is laughing a bit too loudly, and the ceiling, with its intricate crown molding, feels like it’s going to collapse onto him at any second. 

That’s the problem when you decide to be someone you’re not. He’s constantly on his toes, always having to look behind him, always trying to make sure his mask isn’t going to slip. Fresh out of law school. Top marks, top of his class, actually. As expected, as always. 

Hiromi is used to setting the curve, so it doesn’t take him long to learn how these circles operate. Laugh at the right jokes, order the right drink, find the right people to praise, the right suit to wear — he’s good at figuring out the right answers to everything. 

“The party’s never going to end, so if you feel like leaving, you might as well just go now.” 

Hiromi turns to face the source of that sentence, only to have to glance downwards, taking in the sight of you. Glossy lips, long lashes, slinky gold gown clinging to the curves of your body. He swallows. Hard. 

You smile. Sweetly. 

“Before you go, though, you mind getting me a drink from the bar?” You point to the bar that’s across the room, the area Hiromi just left, one old-fashioned in his hand. 

The first wrong thing Hiromi says is, “It’s an open bar.” 

Your shining smile barely falters, but he catches the subtle curve of a frown almost taking shape. 

“Do you really think I could fight off that crowd?” You give him a faux pout, one that only emphasizes the pretty shape of your lips. 

Looking like that, he thinks you wouldn’t need to fight the crowd to get the bartender’s attention. Everyone would probably be clamoring for yours, actually. He doesn’t tell you this, though. Instead, he says, “Like you said, I might as well just go now.” 

Boo. This stranger is no fun. What a waste of good looks, you think to yourself. Taking in the way his body fills out his suit, the tall bridge of his nose, the sharpness of his features — maybe it’s for the best that he’s no fun. You’re not sure how you would be able to keep your cool if he actually was interesting. 

“Don’t just paraphrase. I remember saying that after telling you you should do that if you feel like leaving.” 

He wonders what you’re doing here, at one of the biggest charity galas sponsored by the big law firm he’s going to be joining shortly after his graduation. There’s no way you’re a law student; only a select few final year students were invited in the first place. He can’t fathom you being someone’s plus-one; looking like that, he certainly wouldn’t be able to let you out of his grasp. 

He doesn’t ask you anything, though. He doesn’t compliment you, or say anything that’s on his mind. Instead, he hands his half-empty glass to one of the catering employees walking by that’s collecting dirty glasses, and he tells you, “I’ll be heading out now. Good luck with the bar.” 

It certainly wasn’t the right thing to say, but being a genius comes with some pressure. He figures he’s allowed to give out a few incorrect answers every once in a while.

apex predator 

The click-clack of your four-inch heels making impact against the tiled floors of your father’s law firm serves as a signal to everyone that they need to seek immediate shelter (read: cower in the nearest coworker’s office) and try not to make direct eye contact with you. 

When the boss’s daughter comes to visit, everyone’s on edge. 

Everyone except the new hire. 

Hiromi Higuruma is by no means slow on the uptake, but he’s clocking in the most billable hours out of everyone. Very rarely does he get a chance to take a break, and he doesn’t plan on wasting what few precious minutes of a break he can get on hiding from some brat whose single defining characteristic is sharing the same last name that’s plastered on this skyscraper of a building.

When he passes you by in the hallway, you catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye. Broad shoulders, slim waist, and a familiar slope of a nose bridge you’ve seen before. You almost falter in your footsteps — almost. 

bucket list idea: fuck in an elevator

There’s something intimate about being in the same elevator as someone else.

When there’s a handful of people, it’s casual. Simple. Someone who forgot deodorant, someone who’s running late for work, someone who just burnt their tongue trying to drink their coffee too fast. All of it is mundane. 

Being in an elevator where it’s just you and him — you haven’t decided yet if it’s a gift or a punishment. 

“My father loves the work you’ve been doing,” You’re the first one to break the silence. You can only hope that he’ll be the first one to break the distance between you two: a respectful four feet apart. 

Hiromi clears his throat, straightens his tie. He’s staring straight ahead, right at the shiny silver of the stainless steel doors. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me. I’m not the one who said anything about your work.” 

The corners of his mouth almost turn up at that. He fights the urge to smile. 

“Then thanks for the honesty.” 

“Do you like that?” You ask him. 

“Like what?”

“Honesty?” You ask it innocently enough, but when you give him those eyes, and make your lips form that pout, everything comes out sounding sultry. He’s convinced you could be reading his most recent M&A deal out loud to him and make it sound like you’re reading an erotic romance. 

“Well, I’m a lawyer.” He finds that he has to bite back his smile when he’s around you. He stares at the slowly changing numbers on the screen. The two of you entered from the parking garage, and the elevator’s making its steady ascent to the thirtieth floor. 

“So that’s a no.” You muse.

Hiromi makes no comment.

whatever pays the bills, i guess

Hiromi Higuruma, unlike every other undergrad trying to get into law school, does not take… creative liberties when it comes to his personal statement on why he wants to become a lawyer. Potential medical school students lie and say they want to “save lives” because “living with six-figure student loan debt for the first decade out of school and then making crazy bank afterwards seems like a good trade-off” just doesn’t sound very awe-inspiring, does it? 

In another life, he thinks he’s probably a defense attorney. Representing the Little Guy. Keeping alive his desire to uphold the principles of justice and that the wrongfully accused receive fair representation. Even with the odds stacked against his client, he’s certain that he’s good enough to win their case.

However, the world is unfair. Doing the good thing rarely pays off. Being a good person doesn’t get you very far, either. One of his former classmates was such a bright, kind girl. Passionate statement of purpose, too. She applied to all the same law programs as Hiromi and got accepted to exactly zero of them. 

Hiromi got into every single one, and his statement of purpose was honest, straight to the point, and damn-near clinically cold.

I need a competitive environment that takes pride in its intellectual rigor, but I have no desire to pursue medical school just to spend a decade in college and residency. Law school seems most appropriate for my needs.

who hired the intern?

Hiromi doesn’t know what you do around the firm, just that you’re constantly here. 

Even when you’re not physically present, he still finds traces of you lingering everywhere. The scent of your perfume that sticks to the elevator’s walls, your now-empty medium sized iced matcha latte in the trashcan of the breakroom, whispers of your names when his colleagues are in the mood to gossip, the click-clack of your heels that he can hear from inside his office even though his door is closed.

He can’t tell if you’re just inescapable or if he’s constantly subconsciously seeking you out. He doesn’t want to know the answer.

What he does want to know the answer to is why you’re sitting on top of his desk at seven in the morning, your medium sized iced matcha latte in all its green glory (this is the first time he’s seen it full and not as an empty plastic cup in the trash). You’re wearing a fitted white button down with a gray wool skirt that will have the HR manager doing a wide-eyed double-take when you walk past her. Your legs are crossed, and Hiromi scolds himself for noticing. 

He focuses on your face instead, upset to see that you’re still doing that unfair move of yours — that pout, those eyes. 

“What are you doing in here?” Hiromi manages to get the words unstuck from his throat. He’s not even sure how you got the keys to his office, and then he remembers who your father is. 

You smile brightly. 

“My dad says I need some ‘resume-boosting’ activities, and how convenient is it that the firm is looking for an off-cycle intern?” 

How convenient, indeed.

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re sitting on top of my desk.” During your chirpy exclamation, Hiromi manages to pull himself together. He’s getting a few steps closer to you. He’s not going to sit behind his desk, not yet, but his approach only serves to bring you two into closer proximity. If you stretch your legs, the pointy tips of your stilettos will brush against the fabric of his trousers. 

“Well, every intern at the firm is apparently assigned a lawyer to work under. Y’know, to be a mentor.” 

He can’t decide if he likes or detests where this is going.

“And,” you continue. “Dad only wants the best for me. It’d be, like, kind of suspicious to be working directly alongside my father, though.” Yes, Hiromi muses. Because getting a law internship at one of the most prestigious firms during your undergrad is certainly not suspicious at all. “So, the next best thing would be the so-called prodigal lawyer that everyone can’t stop praising. How convenient is it that you’re able to watch over an intern for the semester?”

“Very convenient.” Hiromi raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to get off my desk now? I can’t imagine you’ll be able to learn much if your back is going to be facing me when I’m sitting at my desk.” 

“Whatever you say, sir.” You hop off the desk, gently tugging your skirt down in place. He keeps his eyes focused on your face the whole time.

[rainybubbles]

COD men and civilian jobs

I was wondering for you, what would COD men do if they had a civilian job?

Please share your opinionnnn !!!

So :

-I imagine Soap as a firefighter or a sports coach; he loves people and craves the thrill of adrenaline.

-Gaz could be a teacher, emanating a calm aura, and I see him excelling with kids or teenagers. Alternatively, he might thrive as a doctor or surgeon in the ER due to his ability to handle stressful situations. (the question is what subject as a teacher ?)

-Ghost might be best suited as a mechanic or a cook. He possesses exceptional skills but dislikes client service or social interaction. With his preference for routine, a career as a cook suits him well.

-Price would excel as a history teacher, particularly at the university level. (I've seen so many fics about it, I love it each times) His passion for guiding and assisting others, leading them to achieve their Ph.D. or dreams, aligns perfectly with this role.

-Nikolai's fit is obvious—he'd make an excellent pilot, perhaps in Formula 1, or even a taxi driver.

-Alex's strong sense of justice suggests a career in the legal system, perhaps initially as a lawyer defending large corporations before realizing the ethical implications and shifting to advocate for the underprivileged, akin to Murdock.

-Farah's natural inclination toward defending people's rights makes her a perfect fit for a career in politics. She would thrive in electoral campaigns and fighting for social justice issues, embodying the qualities of a strong leader.

-Laswell also exudes political vibes, aligning with a similar career trajectory, or maybe an interpret.

-König seems suited to be a baker, I am possibly influenced by reading too much about bakeries featuring Konig. Additionally, baking often serves as a coping mechanism for anxiety, which could resonate with him. Imagining him in a quaint local bakery in a peaceful village feels fitting.

-Alejandro's need for action suggests a career as an MMA fighter or a police officer. (it sounds dumb, but it makes sense in my mind-)His inherent drive to confront challenges and conflicts makes him well-suited for such physically demanding roles.

-Rudy appears outwardly calm but harbors a fiery passion. He might have been an ex-athlete who suffered a severe injury, leading him to find solace in a quieter profession like being a librarian. This juxtaposition of calmness and inner fire aligns well with such a career path.

Tell me your opinion, I really want to write a "how you meet them" in this AU, so does it sound good for you or not ?

[thankskenpenders]

As I'm sure many of you are already aware, Did You Know Gaming (who have been doing some really great investigative work lately) recently put out a video on canceled Sonic games. The whole thing's worth a watch, but I have to bring it up here specifically because they talk about the plans for Sonic Chronicles 2 with a LOT of new info directly from the lead designer.

The section on how the story of Sonic Chronicles 2 would have went starts at 9:45. It's very interesting! He outlines the whole plot, including the fact that they were going to end with ANOTHER obvious plot hook for a sequel in the hopes that they or some other studio could keep the Sonic Chronicles series going indefinitely. Sonic Team even claimed they were interested in using Chronicles characters like Shade in other games. It's crazy to imagine a timeline where this might have become a pillar of the franchise.

I refuse to mourn the loss of the sequel, though, because y'all saw me stream the original. It was miserable. And with the original game selling and reviewing decently well, they would have had little reason to go back to the drawing board and overhaul that game's bizarrely hateful design.

Of course, DYKG also had to talk about the reason why the game was canceled. I was dreading this because of how often people tend to get the basic facts of the Penders cases wrong or downplay the obvious Archie Knuckles inspiration in Chronicles. But no, they did their homework! And they got the details right in part because, well... they asked Penders for comment directly. And he sent them back a MASSIVE wall of text about the whole ordeal, including some fascinating details that I don't believe I've heard before!

You can go to 15:19 in the video and scrub through to read the many, MANY screencaps of their emails from Ken, but here are the most interesting and/or hilarious tidbits to me:

#1: Perjury!

As we already knew, Ken claimed that the incomplete, photocopied contract Archie presented in court was a forgery, and that he had never signed a work for hire contract.

The judge obviously knew that one side had to be lying here, and thus was more than willing to present the case to a jury to let them decide the truth... and send whoever was deemed the liar to jail for perjury. (The judge apparently looked Ken directly in the eye when he said this, which... well, make of that what you will.)

Archie's lawyers knew that they didn't have a completely airtight case and obviously did not want to go to jail. So they decided to settle instead of going to trial in front of a jury.

(I will reiterate that Archie's arguments not working out is overall a GOOD thing, because we really do not want to set a legal precedent where corporations can "lose" a contract for a creator, make up a story about what was on the contract, and then have that hold up in court. They gotta get that shit in writing. And they didn't. They fucked up!)

#2: Sega was threatening to revoke the Sonic license!

As we knew, Sega wanted nothing to do with the comic copyright lawsuit. To them, it was Archie's job as licensee to deal with their freelancers. (Y'all watch Succession? You know how Logan loves lackeys who will eat shit for him without him having to even hear about the problem? Yeah.) And, in fact, according to Ken, Sega gave Archie an ultimatum: if they wanted their license to make Sonic comics renewed, they were gonna have to deal with Ken on their own, and cover all the costs.

Yeah, uh, this kinda makes me think that Sega being pissed about the ongoing Scott Fulop copyright case in 2016 may have been a bigger factor in Archie Sonic's cancellation than I previously thought. There was a lot going on at the time that could have contributed, but, y'know.

Anyway, Archie sued Ken for "damaging their business" largely because Sega was threatening to take away the Sonic IP. But because Archie couldn't ask Sega for help and they couldn't produce an original contract, they had to settle.

There's another detail I find funny here, though. Ken WANTED Sega to get involved in the comic copyright case, thinking that Sega would strongarm Archie into paying him the millions of dollars he wanted for "using his work without permission" so that they could be done with it. I mean, sure. I guess Sega wouldn't have cared about Archie's finances, but still. I'm not so sure that would've worked out for him.

#3: Shade!

Yes, Penders still claims he legally owns Shade, and under advice from his lawyer still intends to put out an NFT of her to put his claim to the test. Yes, it's incredible that he still hasn't put out the damn NFT. It only needs to be one image, which he already drew! The market has collapsed!

Anyway, building an argument off the legal concept of estoppel, he says that if Sega continues to not do anything about his claims that he owns Shade then, in the eyes of the court, they'll be forfeiting their claims to Shade altogether. But they aren't going to do anything because they never wanted any part in the copyright battles in the first place, and to them Chronicles is a long dead asset not worth fighting over. Why bother trying to use Shade again and giving Ken a reason to take them back to court when they can just move on? It's not like this franchise is short on characters. And so Ken can say that Shade and Julie-Su are literally the same character, and if he owns Julie-Su then therefore he also owns Shade.

Our copyright system is, indeed, a nightmare. Chronicles should have been halfway to the public domain by now.

#4: Sega's oversight on the Archie comics!

Ken says that in his first year on the series Sega only requested some dialogue changes here and there through the editor. They never requested huge script changes, and also never spoke to Ken directly. After that first year, they stopped asking for dialogue changes altogether, and Ken "had a free hand to do pretty much whatever he wanted." Yeah, no surprise there.

He does, however, say that Archie's original deal with Sega stated that they weren't allowed to create ANY new Sonic characters without informing Sega. They would've needed to make a contract every single time to get Sega's approval and make it absolutely crystal clear that Sega owned the whole cast. And then Archie just... didn't do that! And didn't tell any of the freelance creatives not to come up with new characters! Had Archie followed this rule, the trajectory of the comics would have been completely different, but there also never would've been a copyright battle in the first place.

What a shitshow. Truly.

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Love and Liabilities (Agatha Harkness x FemReader): Chapter One

Summary: While you attend a pretrial conference for your current case, you’re stunned to learn your opposing council is your former ex…and law school professor, Agatha Harkness

Word Count: 4.7k

Tags: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage!! Smut, Light Choking, Light Degradation Kink, Mommy Kink, Hate Sex

A/N: Hi :) This idea has been bouncing around my brain since the promo pics came out. Lawyer Agatha, the gift we all need for the new year. This is my first real attempt at writing smut, but I hope y’all enjoy. Updates will be around every 2 weeks. If you’d like to be added to a tag list, please let me know. Feel free to let me know what you think! 💜 Also a special shout-out to my sweet girlfriend, Sarah, thank you for always listening to my crazy ideas.

Smoothing out a wrinkle from your pantsuit, you looked over your case materials from outside the courtroom. It had been almost a decade since you graduated law school, and you’d spent the time since working in corporate law as a junior attorney, before leaving the firm and working your way up as a top prosecutor. To say you were married to your job would be an understatement. It wasn’t enough to be good, you simply had to be the best. You’d always pride yourself on your ability to dig deep in a case and pull out missing details, or find a crack in a seemingly perfect alibi. You were ruthless, but you knew you had to be. The defense attorneys you found yourself battling in court were absolute sharks, and if they sensed an ounce of hesitation on your end it would be a total bloodbath.

Dealing with criminal defense cases was as interesting as it sounded, although it wasn’t what you envisioned you’d be doing after law school. You had different dreams back then, more altruistic visions of helping those who needed it. Closing your eyes, you saw a brief flash of the strikingly blue eyes and dark hair that caused you to change your choice of career, before you quickly shook those thoughts aside. It had been almost ten years since you’d allowed yourself to think about her- about any of it, and it wouldn’t benefit you to take a stroll down memory lane before the biggest case of your career.

A law clerk eventually came by to inform you the judge was ready for you. This was it. Gathering your materials, you walked through the details again in your mind. Pre-trial conferences were relatively helpful when trying to reach a plea bargain, review evidence, as well as decide what to present to the jury. There was no doubt in your mind that this case would go to trial. After all, a woman who kidnaps two children and takes them to a small town in New Jersey didn’t leave much to plead innocent from. What was the name of it, Westchester? Westmont? No, no, you mentally crossed those out, until the name finally came to mind…Westview. Westview, New Jersey.

The room was relatively empty, and you recognized the judge, Carol Danvers. She had a reputation for being rather uptight, but was typically fair in her rulings. She’d moved up through various circuit courts throughout her career, and you’d heard rumblings she was being eyed for a potential Supreme Court nomination. Setting your briefcase on the empty chair next to you, you thought of any possible hiccups from the defense. Supposedly a brief psych evaluation had been done after the incident to rule anything out, so they wouldn’t try and plead insanity, right? You couldn’t see Carol ruling in favor of that. There was the small problem of genetics; the woman was the boys’ birth mother. But, you’d looked over the adoption contracts, as had your colleagues, and they were airtight. It had been a closed adoption, and from what you could tell there had been no contact for over a decade. Plus, with solid testimonies from both families and multiple eyewitnesses you weren’t worried of whatever argument the defense would make in her favor.

Speaking of the defense, you quickly realized the defense attorney hadn’t arrived yet, which was a bit unusual. Racking your brain, you tried to remember the name of the attorney Yelena said was leading the case, but no one came to mind. Pepper Potts perhaps? Carol also appeared to notice the lack of the second attorney, as she whispered with one of the law clerks. You could barely make out what they were saying, but she sounded annoyed. But, no matter, you knew this had absolutely no impact on you.

Carol finally sighed in defeat at whatever the law clerk told her, something about hitting a fire hydrant? “Well, as we’re waiting on the defense to resolve their…tardiness, will the prosecution step forward?”

Standing up, you grabbed a copy of your materials, evidence, testimonies, anything the judge would need, before taking a step towards the judge. “Your honor, the state of New York is ready to move forward with our case. You’ll find sufficient evidence to dismiss any plea deal, as well as ensure we can schedule a trial date.”

Handing the papers to the judge, you watched as she flipped through them, an unreadable expression on her face. Minutes passed before she looked up at you. “The prosecution is dismissing the plea deal being proposed by the defense?”

Nodding, you recalled the deal that had been sent over to your office. It was preposterous, and was heavily dependent on the mental state of the defendant, or rather the lack of mental state of the defendant. “Yes, your honor. The state has inculpatory evidence to convict the defendant, as well as a number of witnesses willing to testify.”

A voice you’d only heard in your dreams for the past decade spoke up, and you nearly froze in place. “Inculpatory evidence? That’s a rather bold claim, I’d call it circumstantial at best.”

It couldn’t be. Paralyzed, you forced yourself to ignore it, to ignore her and keep your eyes locked forward. It couldn’t possibly be her, you would have remembered hearing her name as the defense attorney. Clearing your throat, you continued, trying to keep yourself calm. “With all due respect, your honor, the typical procedure for a case involving the abduction of a minor is what we’re basing this precedent on-”

An obnoxiously loud cackle cut you off, and nearly made you whip your head around in annoyance. The slow clacking of heels echoed throughout the room, followed by the faint scent of Burberry that invaded your senses. Brief flashes of lecture halls and late night office hour visits intertwined with the smell of cigars and expensive whiskey. Lengthy, heated arguments over the moral justification of various Supreme Court rulings whilst being undressed and pressed against the door. Diamond jewelry and lavish bouquets being delivered to your modest law school apartment as you sheepishly explained to your roommates you were seeing an older woman. Secret rendezvous in dimly lit piano bars in Manhattan which would end in a king size bed in a penthouse you could never dream of affording.

It all led back to the same thought, the same woman you’d done your best to let go of. The very same woman you currently found yourself standing face to face with. Agatha Harkness. Clever blue eyes met yours, and a slow smirk painted her perfect red lips. She hadn’t changed much over the past decade. Her dark hair, now peppered with some gray, was pinned back with a few loose strands framing her face, and you briefly thought of how well it suited her. The fitted black pantsuit which accentuated her features, and black heels that made her look deceptively tall as she towered over you.

For a moment it was as if no time had passed at all, and you were back in her lecture hall. But as quickly as that oddly nostalgic feeling overcame you like a tidal wave, it swept away, leaving you with the reality of the situation. Clearing your throat, you looked past Agatha, keeping your focus on Judge Danvers. “As I was saying. While looking at prior cases involving the abduction of a minor we were able to set a precedent that-”

Agatha let out another cackle, and it took everything in you to not roll your eyes. However it appeared Carol was at the end of her rope with patience, as she banged her gavel twice. “Does the defense have something they wish to share with the rest of us?”

“Your honor,” Agatha drawled out, her voice sweet like honey, “The prosecution is making bold assumptions on precedents that do not directly follow the evidence of this particular case. To rule anything otherwise would be direct defamation to my client.”

“Defamation?” You all but hissed, momentarily forgetting you were in the middle of a courtroom. The answering smirk Agatha gave you only fuelled your fire. “Your honor, the defense is all but negating the direct evidence of the defendant’s guilt. We would like to proceed to trial while throwing out the plea deal.”

Agatha’s shark tooth grin widened, and you had a sneaking suspicion she was baiting you to get a reaction. Typical, as she always prided herself on being ten steps ahead of her opponent. Taking a deep breath, you regained your calm composure. It would do you no good to allow your emotions to take over. That would merely ensure Agatha to have one more victory over you, one more thing she would take away from you. But things were different this time, you weren’t some feeble, naive law student fawning over her professor. The playing field was finally leveled, and it was about time she realized that.

Unfortunately, you forgot Agatha never played fair. You curiously watched her grab two folders from her briefcase, all but tossing one at you whilst handing Carol the other. “While we’re discussing the plea deal your honor, I’ve included additional information regarding my client’s psychiatric evaluation.”

Practically tearing the folder open, your eyes scanned the lengthy documents before landing on something that nearly made you fall over. Before you could get a word in, Agatha continued on. “Due to our country’s ever failing healthcare and medical practices, my client has been unable to receive a proper psychiatric evaluation. Your honor, I am requesting a continuance to this trial until my client can get the help she needs.”

Carol’s focus remained on the papers, an inscrutable expression coloring her features. “I’m granting a one month continuance for the defendant, Wanda Maximoff, to be given a psychiatric evaluation. As long as Miss Maximoff follows the terms of her probation and doesn’t leave the state of New York, we’ll resume this conference one month from today. Thank you to the prosecution and defense, you’re dismissed.”

Not wanting to see the smug smirk on Agatha’s face, you packed up your materials, including the folder Agatha gave you, and did your best to hurry out of the courtroom. It was foolish to think you’d beat Agatha at the game she taught you to play. That’s what it always was to Agatha, a game. It was like everyone around her was playing checkers while she was constructing the most elaborate game of chess known to man. All while she moved you around as whatever piece she desired; because that’s how she viewed you, as an object she could twist and mold to her liking until you outlived your usefulness.

Ignoring the familiar sound of her heels approaching, you drafted a quick email to one of your colleagues with the news of the trial being halted before going to order your Uber. You didn’t have to look up to know Agatha was standing in front of you, because that was just part of her intricate plan. She surely knew you were furious, because of course she did. Hadn’t she once told you she knew everything? At the time you thought it was a cheeky remark to make you laugh, but looking back you came to terms with the fact that the only person Agatha Harkness could ever care for was herself.

You were growing weary of the rising tension, so you finally broke the silence, keeping your eyes locked on your phone. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’m not sure,” Agatha replied, and although you weren’t looking at her you could practically feel her gaze burning into you. “I never took you for a sore loser, dear.”

There it was, she was trying to get her claws back in you. Keeping your tone even, you checked on the status of your Uber. “I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to. I’m just doing my job.”

Before you could comprehend what was happening, your phone was ripped from your hands. “Hey!” You exclaimed, angrily whipping your head up and your eyes narrowed, meeting the deep blue eyes you used to get lost in. “Give me back my phone.”

“Checking for your ride?” Agatha mocked, arching an eyebrow up at you. “Is that more interesting than talking to me?”

“Watching paint dry would be more interesting than speaking with you,” You retorted, your discomfort quickly growing.

“Now darling, is that any way to speak to me?” Agatha teased, her voice gradually dropping in volume. “It’s been so long.”

Glaring at her, you tried to pry your phone from her hands, but she put it in her back pocket. “And whose fault is that again?” Your voice was laced with venom, you subconsciously wanted to make her feel as badly as you had. “Should we take a stroll down memory lane and recall what caused this?”

Agatha’s gaze hardened at that jab, and you momentarily wondered if you pushed too hard. “I’m surprised you’re leading this case. I thought you wanted to,” she paused and used air quotes, “‘help the voiceless’, not strangle them.”

“How dare you,” You seethed, not caring that your voice was growing in volume. “I’m just doing my job, Agatha. Besides, isn’t strangling the helpless what you do best?”

Agatha tilted her head back, and let out another cackle. “Doing your job? You’re trying to imprison an innocent mother.”

“Your innocent mother kidnapped two minors and took them over state lines,” You fired back, vaguely aware that Agatha was taking small, slow steps towards you.

“She’s still their mother,” Agatha pointed out and you felt your face grow red from rage.

“Regardless of DNA, it was a closed adoption. She waived her parental rights,” You argued, unaware of anything but the infuriating woman standing in front of you. “Surely you’ve been practicing long enough to know how to read a contract.”

“And I thought I taught you to read between the lines of said contracts,” Agatha countered, and you knew she was testing your argument, it’s what she always did. “Things aren’t always black and white, dear.”

No they weren’t, you silently agreed. By this point your back was to the wall of the deserted corridor, Agatha still towering over you. Your faces were practically touching, and you could practically taste her lips. Both of you were panting from the exertion of bickering, and it wouldn’t take much to close the distance. She was so close, closer than she had been to you in so long. Having her back in your orbit, taking over all of your senses, made you forget the reasons you were so angry with her. Instead, it made you remember how many other times you had found yourself in this exact same position.

You could feel your ironclad restraint begin to slip away, and Agatha appeared to notice it as well. She let out a low chuckle as she turned her face to the side, her breath now hot against your ear, and allowing her to whisper, “Looks like it still doesn’t take much to get you riled up, does it?”

Shuddering, you struggled to get your breathing even, thinking of the many reasons why this was a horrible idea. Your history aside, you were on opposing sides of what would most likely be a very public case. It wasn’t just unprofessional to be doing this, it could potentially jeopardize your whole career. But it was hard to think about any of that when you locked eyes with the woman you had spent so much time trying to forget. Her right hand left your waist to push back the loose strands of your hair, tucking them behind your ear.

Each movement was slow, and delicate, and as her fingers slowly trailed down your neck, she gently squeezed, before gradually applying more pressure, and you had to physically restrain yourself from moaning. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs and had to close your eyes from the overwhelming sensation. Agatha’s lips moved to your neck, pressing hot, open kisses on your flesh while her fingers began to move lower, cupping your left breast before slowly pinching your nipple. This time you couldn’t stop the quiet moan that left your lips, and Agatha quickly used her free hand to silence you, covering your mouth.

“You always had a problem being quiet,” Agatha murmured, lips still on your skin. “Let’s find somewhere more…secluded to continue this, hm?”

Feeling yourself nod, you opened your eyes and let out a pathetic whine as she let go of you. It didn’t take long to find an empty storage closet, and Agatha practically shoved you inside before slamming the door behind her.

Pressing you against the bare wall, her eyes scanned yours before asking, “Are you sure?”

Being with Agatha like this was the greatest euphoric high, and it always left you wanting more and more. It didn’t have to mean anything, and you certainly didn’t want it to. It was just two people working out their frustrations, right? You nodded again, grabbing her right hand and placing it back around your throat. “Are you going to choke me again or are you too much of a coward?”

She nearly growled at that, and squeezed, a little rougher this time. You pressed your face into her shoulder, trying to silence the noises you always made when she touched you. She had barely started but it was so good, and you didn’t hesitate when she used her free hand to try and remove your blazer. Taking a step back to take off your blouse and bra, you nearly tripped over some boxes, and her hands steadied you.

“Careful,” She lightly teased, eyes still dark from arousal. “I’m not nearly finished with you.”

Her hands skillfully unhooked your bra, carelessly tossing it to the side, before lowering her mouth to your breast, and lewdly sucked. As if she anticipated the noises you’d inevitably make, she roughly pressed two fingers in your open mouth for you to suck. Moaning around them, you eagerly sucked and sucked, thinking of where you wanted her fingers to go next. Agatha’s tongue swirled around your nipple, teasing it enough to make it go erect before using her teeth to pull. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, your last functioning brain cells wondering how she could still have this strong of an effect on you.

She let out a low hum, clearly enjoying this as much as you were before moving to your other breast, only this time she bit down, and the rush of pain and pleasure flooded you. Unable to cry out as she fucked her fingers further down your throat before adding a third, causing you to gag around them. Releasing your breast, Agatha panted out, “Look at how pathetic you are, sucking on my fingers like a good little slut. What a good girl.”

Whimpering around her fingers, you clenched at the filth spewing from her lips. You hated this, how easily she could flip the switch and have you dripping and wanting her to fuck you through the floorboards. Agatha cooed, using her free hand to gently stroke your face, and roughly pulled her fingers out of your mouth. She was face level again, and you watched the gears turn in her head as she weighed out what to do with you. That same free hand cupped your jaw, and she was so close, your brain buzzing from the endorphins. It was so good, you hated how good it was.

Her normally perfectly red lips were stained and parted slightly as she looked at you with an indecipherable stare, and you were still breathless from her earlier ministrations. Before you could fully comprehend what you were doing, you grabbed her hair and smashed your lips together. You swore you heard her groan, but it was gone as quickly as it came, and you had no time to contemplate it as you felt her tongue teasing the entrance of your mouth. It has been so long, so very long, but you fell back into the familiar dance you could never forget.

Everything Agatha did she dominated, for she had such a strong presence that was impossible to ignore. Just kissing her was enough to get you off, as her tongue expertly swirled around yours, sending you further and further from the edge of reality. You were so far gone you barely noticed her hands moving lower, and lower, until they were pawing at your ass. Groping and grabbing, she was insatiable as she conquered your mouth. You broke apart for merely a second and without speaking, you helped get rid of your pants, slightly stunned you were still this in sync after all this time.

But again, you had no time to ponder that thought as Agatha quickly slammed you against the wall, and you couldn’t help but moan at the pain. The same fingers you eagerly sucked on were now teasing your entrance, rubbing gentle, slow circles. Agatha’s breath was hot in your ear, and you whined, trying to thrust your hips up for more friction. You needed more, you needed her more than ever before. Going without for so long was fine, you’d nearly forgotten what it felt like, what she felt like; but the second you remembered you couldn’t bear a second without it.

“Someone’s awfully worked up,” Agatha taunted, her voice softly whispering in your ear. “Did you want something?”

“Agatha…” You breathed out, your voice nearly cracking. “Please…”

Her fingers teased your clit, and the sensation made you cry out, causing Agatha to silence you with yet another kiss. “Behave,” she murmured against your lips, “Do you want me inside you? Do you want me to fill that sweet little cunt?”

Mewling, you again tried to tilt your hips up, desperate to feel her inside you, but her other hand kept you in place. “Agatha, please, I…I need it, please fuck me.”

Agatha arched an eyebrow, “I know your brain just melts when that pussy gets wet, but we both know that’s not what you want to call me, is it?” Blushing, you tried to avert your eyes but it was impossible. She nipped at your lips before continuing. “Be a good girl and beg for it.”

“Mommy,” The words slipped past your lips and you felt another rush of heat between your legs while Agatha moaned.

“Good girl,” Agatha praised you, and before you could prepare yourself she roughly entered you with two fingers, filling you completely.

Her fingers were so long and so good, hitting the spots you had trouble reaching. You couldn’t help but clench around them, and she groaned in your ear. Wasting no time, she set a fast and hard rhythm, skillfully fucking you better than anyone else since her had been able to.

“I almost forgot how good your cunt feels around my fingers,” Agatha hissed, nibbling on your ear, “Suck me in, slut.”

Your hips met her fingers, and you desperately chased your orgasm. “Harder, please mommy fuck me harder.”

Putting all of her weight on you, Agatha swiftly added a third finger and you nearly squealed at how full you felt. Her fingers were so deep, and you were so close, so very close to the edge.

“Such a good whore for mommy,” Agatha cooed, and her voice was strained, you could tell she was close too. “Do you want to come on my fingers?”

“Mommy please,” You cried out, unable to focus on anything but wanting to feel her fingers make you come harder than you could ever remember.

Agatha’s hips rested against your knee, and she began riding your leg, chasing her own high. “Come for mommy, baby. Soak my fingers.”

Twisting her fingers and hitting your G-spot again, and again causing you to quickly unravel. Feeling your orgasm coming, you clenched around her fingers, needing her to stay inside you. Your knees buckled and you swore you saw stars, unable to speak as you silently cried out. Agatha came right as you did, grunting in your ear and roughly thrusting against your leg as she came undone.

“Fuck,” She panted, keeping her fingers inside you as you continued to twitched around them. “Good girl, such a good girl for mommy.”

Breathing heavily, you gradually felt yourself come back to Earth. You were drenched with sweat, and you were sure you looked positively debauched. Agatha was staring at you with yet another inscrutable expression on her face, and you felt yourself relaxing around her fingers as she slowly pulled out. You grabbed her hand, and lewdly cleaned her fingers off, watching her eyes darken once more as you made a point to swirl your tongue around them until they were clean.

As your brain fog cleared, you were all too aware of the uncomfortable silence growing around you. With every high that came with being with Agatha, it was almost always followed by an indescribable low. There were so many things you wanted to ask her, so many things you needed to know. Brief flashes of arguments and slamming doors. Dozens of unanswered calls, and late nights spent wondering what you had done wrong to deserve her random outbursts of anger. But with every argument, every heated fight, it would always end the same way; with Agatha pressing you against some surface and having her way with you.

There had been so much more going on at that point than you were aware of, and as the pieces slowly came together, she was too far gone for you to be able to help. You’d begged and pleaded with her, but it never mattered. What was it your therapist had said to you? You couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to help themselves. Letting go of her nearly killed you, and now you made the mistake of opening that door again, knowing how much more complicated it would be. You weren’t just her law student anymore, you were on opposing sides of a trial.

It appeared Agatha was having the same train of thought as you, for she wordlessly helped you find your clothes. In spite of her just being inside you, you made a point of turning around as you got dressed, as the air in the room seemed to drop and any of the warmth that had been there prior had disappeared. There was so much you wanted to say, yet simultaneously wanted to get as far away from her as you could.

Agatha finally broke the silence as she fixed her hair, and she was back to her usual condescending self. “You know you’re wrong pursuing this case, right? It’s not too late to back out.”

Rolling your eyes, you finally grabbed your phone from her back pocket and saw your Uber driver understandably canceled your ride. That would certainly tank your rating. You quickly ordered another before replying with, “You know this meant absolutely nothing to me, right?”

Pushing past her to exit the room, she let out another cackle, the sound like grating nails on a chalkboard in your ears. You knew she wouldn’t follow you, and you were thankful for that. This was an indiscretion, a momentary lapse of judgment. You’ve been on edge with all the extra hours you’ve been working; you weren’t thinking clearly. The courthouse was still relatively empty, and you left the building, trying to get the thought of Agatha out of your mind. Why did she have to be so infuriating?

Your Uber eventually rolled up and as you got in you went to check your work email. It never failed to amaze you how quickly your inbox would fill up when you didn’t check it for more than five minutes. Scrolling through, you vaguely listened to the music your driver had in in the background, until a familiar song started playing. Frank Sinatra, a favorite artist of a certain attorney. The Way You Look Tonight had always been one of her favorites, and you could remember the last time you listened to it together.

Your mind absentmindedly drifted, the memories you’d tried to lock away slowly creeping back up to the surface. It seemed no matter how hard you tried to forget, she didn’t want you to. Settling into your seat, listening to Frank Sinatra, you thought back to the first time you met Agatha, or rather, how you met Professor Harkness.

[theaceofarrows]

Elemental Masters in the movie-verse headcanons

Morro - Lloyd Garmadon's emo cousin and a college student who is kind of in a gang that commits a few crimes here and there, which is fine because people already assume he's evil for being related to Lloyd

Skylor - She inherited Chen's Noodle fortune after her father went to prison under mysterious circumstances. Has the best cooking in home ec class. It's even better than Zane's. She and Nya are an unstoppable duo in gym class

Griffin Turner - He's the substitute gym teacher at Ninjago High that everyone has a love-hate opinion of because he always, always makes everyone run a mile and doesn't let anyone get away with slacking, but he's also funny and somehow pretty chill

Karlof - Owns a popular metalworking shop and is a part-time substitute shop teacher at Ninjago High. Nya and Jay are his favorite students

Neuro - He's a defense lawyer. He's always able to call a bluff, and it never fails to frustrate the opposing counsel

Shade - She's a professional private investigator. One of the reasons that he's so good at his job is that no one can EVER spot him

Camille - She's a professional special effects makeup artist who always does the best onscreen effects

Krux - He's basically Ricky Geravis' character from Night At the Museum but a lot angrier, and also seconds away from firing his brother. Death glares at anyone on their phone

Acronix - He's a security guard at the museum who is always playing on his phone too loudly. Would have been fired several times over if his brother wasn't the curator

Bolobo - He's an environmental activist who may or may not have committed some minor crimes against major oil and energy corporations

Tox - She's a pharmacy manager who is very obviously into some shady stuff, but the rest of the staff turn a blind eye to it because she's the most knowledgeable person there

Jacob Pevsner - He owns a music studio next door to Dareth's dojo. Has banned Dareth from going anywhere near the music equipment

Ash - He's a firefighter. He's very good at his job, but nobody likes him because of his personality

[casualaruanienjoyer]

What jobs could AOT characters have? 🌻

Ahhhhh I love this one! LET'S GO!

What jobs could AOT characters have?

Eren: He strikes me as someone who changes jobs often. He'd get bored of one activity pretty quickly. To him, his job is just a way to earn some money that he can use to have fun with his friends. Pensions who, am I right?

Mikasa: Kindergarten carer. Her motherly personality is perfect for this, and she loves kids so much. The kids also love being lifted high up in the air so they often use Mikasa as a seesaw.

Armin: Teacher, most likely geography. He's the type to travel the world and teach in different countries. This lifestyle allows him to learn more about local cultures, languages and traditions. It fascinates him!

Annie: Traveling the world with Armin means finding work can be quite tough unless you know the language. When she can, she will work as a bartender. She quite enjoys mixing drinks and listening to people's life stories. She gets fired pretty often for her lack of customer service etiquette though.

Jean: Corporate job. He wanted to be an artist but didn't quite try hard enough, so now he's stuck between grey walls that drive him insane. The pay is good thankfully, so in his spare time he can afford luxurious trips and dinners. Reiner often encourages him to keep working towards his dream of becoming an artist and even offers to pose for Jean to draw.

Reiner: Counsellor. He likes being able to help people get over their troubles just like he did with his own. It's not an easy job but it's very rewarding when successful. Though, sometimes he ends up being the patient while Jean listens to him complain about his life. Or Pieck... or Annie... or...

Connie: Personal trainer. This dude will get you into the exact shape that you want. It's so hard to keep up with him, he's way faster than you. More agile, more flexible. How the hell does he bend like that? One day you try to do the same, but you end up in hospital. Don't worry, Connie has insurance.

Sasha: Camp instructor! Loves organizing all sorts of activities with kids and teens including archery, canoeing, climbing, hiking. She loves being in nature. The only thing she hates about this job is the horror story time around the campfire.

Pieck: Work? Pieck? Nah! If anyone's got some sort of sugar daddy, it would be Pieck. She lives incredibly comfortably for someone who appears to be both single and unemployed. Ah, the joys of being both incredibly beautiful and incredibly devilish.

Falco and Gabi: They are still young, so the best they could do is work over the summer at a theme park. The pay is shit but the location is amazing and they get to ride for free!

Yelena: Lawyer. Like, we all know Yelena. It's better to have her on your side than be against her. And it's even better if she's your lawyer. You could get away with almost anything! Right??

Zeke: Baseball instructor. He trains the local team and is known as one of the best players in the area. Now he uses his time to help kids learn how to play. Legend says Zeke can throw a ball so far away that some are still stuck orbiting around Earth.

Onyankopon: Pilot. Passengers usually take a liking to him. He's so charismatic and friendly. He enjoys making jokes over the radio with the other members of the crew. The amazing views is what he loves the most about his job. And the free snacks.

Levi and Hange: This man's in no shape to do any kind of physical work right now, but instead aids Hange with her job. She owns a private Pathology clinic. How does Levi help, exactly? Well he makes sure she stays hydrated and does her taxes. Basically a secretary of some sorts. He even has a cute nameplate on his desk.

[julietsbb]

so pondphuwin legal drama tv show where phuwin is a famous boxer with anger issues and pond is a defence lawyer

brought to you by a) pw being cute and doing silly boxing moves as they were shooting stuff for promoting fancon b) the pictures on pond in specs today and c) ppw in suits (and d) i want more unhinged angry phuwin content HE WOULD DO IT SO WELL and e) I want pond in more three piece suits and glasses and I’m desperate for him to have another role where he gets to sound intelligent/smart)

so Phuwin absolutely loses his shit at some asshole and beats him bloody I don’t care if it was justified or not or betty or righteous doesn’t matter but the dude hits him with an assault charge

And Phuwin can’t go to jail because then he can’t box and that would make him lose his mind because it’s the only way he knows to process his anger so IN COMES DEFENCE LAWYER POND who doesn’t even fucking want this case, he spends his time defending like, actually down on their luck people who deserves an extra chance BUT he’s also working in a corporate word that needs to make money and his boss told him to take the case because he’s friends with phuwin’s agent and pond is the bestest or some such and he owes his boss a favour

Anyways they obviously hate each other because phuwin’s anger at the entire situation keeps going off and makes pond’s job harder etc etc (also both of them are very attractive and they also hate that about each other)

And so it’s the night before the first hearing (they’ve been trying to dig up stuff to discredit the victim somehow) and pond snaps and is like “Jesus Christ if it can stop you from going off in court tomorrow just punch ME and get it out of your system I would prefer that actually” (it’s 2am and he has no filter left)

And pw’s character is like “????? what”

And pond is like “never mind I’m just tired” and pw’s like “no wait punching you sounds good actually could we do that because I’ve been wanting to punch your stupid fucking face with your stupid fucking glasses—“ and pond’s like “well if you’re punching me it’s sure as fuck not on my face because a) I need my glasses and b) it wouldn’t actually help your case if I showed up looking like my client with the assault charge just assaulted me, so it would defeat the purpose of it all” and then pw’s like well where the fuck can I hit you then and pond gives it serious consideration and it becomes, slowly, apparent, that he Knows Things™️ about being hit, saying stuff like “the meat of my thighs if I sit down or my buttocks if I’m lying down somewhere but that would be more awkward. possibly my chest too but let’s avoid my diaphragm and gut area” and like, he gets up and takes off his jacket???? and tie!??? and phuwin’s like “????????” but it also kind of makes him want to hit him more and pond tells him to control his punches so they don’t accidentally hit somewhere they shouldn’t and phuwin laughs in his face because don’t he know he’s talking to a professional boxer actually??

And so they find some way Phu gets to punch him in a way that’s Safe Sane and Consensual and phuwin thinks it’s weird as shit wtf kinda lawyer did they GIVE him but he…… can’t deny he feels better afterwards. And pond gets some MEAN bruises but they’re all covered up by clothes so it’s fine actually as he’d hoped his brain is much clearer after (actually after the first two punches pond has to tell him that he can hit harder than that it’s okay. phuwin hits harder)

Anyways court the next day isn’t a total disaster they haven’t lost YET bought themselves some more time the team celebrates with a beer that evening and they’re the only two left and phuwin’s tongue is loose enough to ask about it and pond’s is loose enough to answer, tell him about how people can enjoy pain in different ways, how it’s something he practises on occasion but has done so for a good long while and Phuwin is like o______o and like… “so it’s not just… punches?” And pond laughs in his face and tells him about how there’s a million different ways and types and personally he would usually prefer a heavy flogger to his back on a normal day but he’s tried this and that.

And phuwin’s char is FASCINATED and his fingers are starting to itch like they usually do for a boxing glove but less familiar and well worn, more new and existing. Exhilarating.

Anyways so Phuwin gets a new way to channel his anger and becomes the calmer for it in the rest of his life and pond guides him through it all very patiently whilst a) having a Great Time but also b) having a very Bad Time because he’s entering into a non-work intimate-but-not-sexual (yet) relationship with Important But Obnoxious Work Client (who really is less obnoxious once his shoulders unclench)

Also phuwin’s character has a cat that’s as aggressive as he is.

(Ps: maybe it turns out the “victim” was actually paid by one of pw’s competitors to deliberately piss him off to sabotage him or something I don’t know but they discover SOMETHING shady and thus there is plot they can bond over)

(Pps: they fall in love your honour)

[esoteriamaya]

Finding a Job. What works for you? Intuitive Reading .

Money rules the world. But what is money when you can't even enjoy what your doing while getting it? Having a hard time sticking to one job? Not sure whats the best outcome for you to make money ? So here I picked out a few angel numbers, and which ever one you intuitively pick is where your hearts desires, soul purpose and skills in money making come in to play.

I hope you all enjoy !

Pick a number !

111 333 444 555 777 999 1111 2222

Now let the games begin!

If you picked ...

111

Doctors, Lawyers, Teacher, Scientists.. This is where your energy works best. Teaching roles are something that give you're heart a big glow. It just works.

If you also picked this group...

Originality. Playing Cards. Jokesters. Tricksters.

You're great at being 'The Fool'. Making up sceems and getting out without a scratch. You could be good at scratch offs, playing poker, winning one of those casino games etc.

When it comes to originality, you make things your way. New ideas, new punchlines. It all works in the end.

If you picked...

333

Farms, Animals, Gardening, Community, Volunteering, Working from home,

This group has a healing aura to them. They need spaces where its quiet, cool, and earthy. Making sure their in groups , surrounded by good people is what works best for them.

Sometimes this isn't work to them. Volunteering is something that helps you feel good and is apart of you're life purpose. Charitable acts suit you greatly.

Working with animals, tending to gardens, dog sitting, etc. Works best for you.

If you also picked this group...

Knitting & Design

I see you guys sitting up on a rocking chair watching the view from your porch. Its a fun hobby and it can make a good coin in the long run. If you have talents in the arts, this would be a great new hobby if you havent tried it.

If you picked..

444

Architecture, Design, Technology, Cameras, Mechanics

If you picked this number, you could be pretty good at creating designs for homes, video games, websites, cars, etc..

You're brain is really connected to the art of detail. You are also good at the art of programming. creating new designs through photoshop or any other special effects program.

Coding is also another thing you guys could be good at.

Making design for clothes is a major one for you! Go on a website that helps with creating hoodies and t shirts, shoes, etc.. And you're in there.

If you also picked this group... Movies, Cameras, Hollywood.. Broadway..

Step by step. Move closer, but go slow.. This group are a class act. 'Prince Energy' : Intuitively Im picking up on star quality. And with 444 being the number that you guys picked, its asking you to work harder. This is a long journey, not a quick paced job. You'll look back and say thank you to yourself for allowing the small wins to propel you to the big ones. Oscar worthy energy is here for this group!

If you picked...

555

Associations, Team Player, Big Corporations, Groups and Connections

Working hard underground is a big one for this group. Connecting to smaller associations will bring you to bigger groups. Finding ways to bring new ideas to the table will benefit you in the long run. With this group.

The vision I got for this group was Buzzfeed and Google corporations. You guys work to create and expand your ideas, topics, and so much more. Its relaxing. Not too much but not so little.

If you picked...

777

Mystery, Oracles, Spiritual Community, Books, Spells, Travel Abroad

Spiritual healers! You're gifted in the arts of knowing. This group is capable of creating spells for the collective and it turning out with some benefits. You could read tarot, astrology, or anything connected to mysticism.

Doing spells for money takes practice, but it can work out for you in the future if you know what you're doing.

Traveling Abroad is one of the best ways for you to make money if you picked this group! It doesn't have to do anything with the occult. You could be a makeup artist, a dancer, doesn't matter. Traveling helps you expand your clientele, and puts more money in your pocket. Its a wonderful job.

If you picked...

999

Travel Abroad, Culture, Studying Abroad, Intellectuals, Thought-provoking conversations, Museums, Podcasts

Your looks is actually something that will propel you to new heights in this lifetime. Your personality, thoughts, creativity, and ideas will attract many followers and it could open up new doors along the way. Be open to being yourself in large crowds. You never know who might be listening! ;)

Whatever it is your selling, try going over seas and take that risk. Join a circus. Do something you have never done before. The unconventional works in your favor.

IF YOU PICKED.....

1111

YOU CREATE YOUR REALITY

Okay so this group is pretty special.

I get strong Emperor/Empress energy for you guys. This means, that you are capable of manifesting and willing in your desires with gratitude and connection to source. You don't have to beg, cry, or plead for the things you want to happen, they simply just do.

Enjoy this, because it is sweet. it is magic. it is free!

2222

ADVOCATE. JUSTICE. CREATE YOUR REALITY. STARTING STRONG. FILM. ENTREPENEUR. GLORY

Okay so this group has an interesting vibe. You guys advocate with groups. Protesting. Learning more about the city you operate in and being apart of it.

In this reality, you have to speak it and it will begin to will itself in your reality. You must be prepared for the work and effort you will have to put into this. it doesnt come free, cheap, or easy. Commitment will play a big role in how you move into what you want.

However, this group has the ability to serve the community in some way, and it will come back and reward them with recognition.

[lenaariewrld]

C.14 — formal dinners (w)

ON THE AIR — childe x reader smau

| SYNOPSIS;; Teyvat University’s popular radio personality, Y/n L/n, has only one gripe with her life. Her classmate, neighbour, and all-around nuisance in her life, Tartaglia. Their rivalry extends just past academics and, to her horror, into her work. He becomes the music director and co-host for her radio show, working alongside her most nights and forcing himself even deeper into her life. But is he really trying to just be friends, or is there an ulterior motive to his actions?

| WC: 3.6k

previous! ~ masterlist ! ~ next!

———

The giggles and laughter of your group reverberated through the restaurant as you all settled into your chairs around the table, a semi-private location that Childe had arranged for days prior to this. The conversation flowed nicely as you all breezed through the far too decadent appetizers and sipped on your drinks. You found it easier to just sit back and relax, enjoying yourself, than you’d previously thought. Ganyu sat across from you, with Keqing to your right and Childe to your left. Cyno sat across from the other man, and the seat next to Ganyu was left open. You had invited Diluc along too in case he was free, but he never responded. A part of you was unsure if you wanted him to show up. You couldn’t place why.

You all shared stories about your trips on breaks, funny things that happened while you’d been attending the university, or even memorable times you’d shared with each other. Ganyu recalled the first trip she’d taken on vacation, one you’d invited her on and had planned for her. Keqing shared her own stories about interesting things she’d learned while assisting her professors through the years, and you and Cyno had your own fun stories to share about parties or crazy nights you’d had. Childe shared a funny story about when he’d first moved here and the miscommunications he’d had with an unfortunate grocery store clerk when he was trying to get some specific ingredient for food.

The dinner was delicious, and a relaxing time for you and your friends, splitting off into separate conversations on occasion. You and Childe even fell into your own little world, the two of you bantering and chatting casually. Nicely. It was probably the least stressful interaction you’d had with the ginger man in years.

As the night wore on and the time leaned later in the evening, the conversations naturally turned to what everyone at the table wanted to do after graduating. In a perfect world, what jobs they’d pursue and careers they’d lead.

Cyno went first, explaining he wanted to be a lawyer or a judge. That he wanted to help judge cases based not only on fairness, but on the circumstances and would would best help a situation resolve. Keqing spoke up next. She wanted to work for the Qixing, a multi-million-dollar commerce company and the most influential conglomerate corporation in the nation. You joked that if she ever got the job, she should be your sugar mommy and expand the company into the entertainment industry to give you your own show. “I’ll think about it,” She joked, nudging your arm with a slight quirk of her lips. Ganyu then admitted she didn’t have a lot of aspirations, and that she’d be perfectly happy as an accountant or an administrative assistant, something with responsibility but not as a leader, where she could make good money and live a relatively calm life. You respected her honesty about it.

When it was unofficially your turn, you told everyone that, unsurprisingly, you wanted to write interesting stories. That you wanted to not only be able to give an escape for people who were as stressed and busy as you found yourself in school and in work, but also to highlight other people’s stories. You wanted to do something impactful, and writing or speaking was how you did that. Whether you ended up being a journalist or not, you didn’t care, so long as you got to accomplish that goal.

Then Childe shared his wishes. He wanted to be a musician, to either be a soloist or lead his own band and express himself (and potentially the others in his band) through music. He wanted to let out everything he couldn’t normally or shouldn’t. Music was the one thing he could communicate in, without fail. Language barrier or not.

Everyone hummed thoughtfully, falling silent around the table and taking a minute to let the topic settle in their minds. Cyno clapped his hands together after a minute. “Okay, well–” He chuckled and brought up a story about some of his teachers and the classmates he’d witnessed doing dumb stuff.

Just like that, the dinner continued as normal. The drinks refilled before you even realise they’ve fallen low, and the plates of food switched out as soon as you’d had your fill.

Once everyone was finished and Childe had paid for the extravagant meal, you all collected your things and headed back to the cars you’d arrived in. You and Ganyu linked arms as youn walked together, your steps far bouncier than hers.

“Oooo, we should go dancing!” You exclaim suddenly, twirling on your feet to face the others as you said this. Your eyes sparkle with excitement. Maybe those glasses of wine were hitting you.

“Y/nnie, maybe we should–”

“Good idea!” Cyno tacks on before Keqing can finish her protest. “We should make a night out of it! “ His voice came out sort of squeaky as he jostled your shoulders playfully, causing you to giggle. Keqing sighs, shaking her head, though you can spot the smile trying to split on her face. She relents eventually, ushering your group towards her car. You cheer and throw your arms around Cyno and Ganyu’s shoulders.

You all pile into the car and debate which club to go to, eventually giving Keqing a name. She drives you all there and your group makes it inside unscathed and without too much fuss. Before anything else, your group trails towards a booth. Keqing and Ganyu make themselves comfortable– with Ganyu graciously agreeing to hold onto your purse– while you, Childe and Cyno head to the bar for a round of shots.

After clinking your glasses and downing the shots, you order a few drinks to sip on before rejoining your friends. You slide into the booth with Keqing and Childe, while Cyno slides in next to Ganyu. You mainly stay silent, waiting for a song you like to start playing before you get up, nursing your martini, while the others have their own conversations.

When a song you recognise starts, you gasp excitedly. Your white-haired friend recognises the song too, and without prompting, grabs your hand to pull you onto the dance floor. The both of you start singing along, your hands intertwined.

It was lively and close as you push further into the throng of dancing people. The both of you throw your arms up or around each other. You keep giggling as you serenade the man, keeping close to Cyno. The rest of the dancing crowd melts away as the fuzz in your brain makes itself a home, your body feeling a current of energy coursing through your veins. Your both disconnected and hyper-aware of your body.

Time seems to become meaningless in this crowd as you dance, only the sure beats of the songs and the feeling of Cyno’s hands on your arms or shoulders keeping you aware of any change around you. You knew you were a more provocative person when you were drunk (not that you intended to, it just happened to loosen you up enough for you to be comfortable), but you didn’t mind in moments like this. In times when the energy was matching the constant thrum in your head. It helped, in fact, especially when you were around people you trusted, grinding and dancing with Cyno with near reckless abandon.

You were both lost in the moment, claiming the lights for your own and having your main character moment. Your hips, your arms, your hands traveled wherever, chasing the feeling of careless dancing that the entire crowd also claimed for themselves.

You were having the time of your life, not even recognizing the songs any more, just vibing to whatever played and the vibes of the club. That is, until you twirl around and effectively lose your friend in the throng of jumping bodies, your hands having left Cyno’s sometime during the spinning. You stumble a little bit as you come to a stop. You look around.

Wasn’t he just here? He was behind you, right? Or on your left?

Turning your head every direction does little to help you see over all off the people jumping and dancing in order to spot your friend, even with how bright his hair looked in the club lights. Your heart starts to hammer in your chest, the ecstatic energy turning sour with worry. You feel a hand on your upper arm and turn quickly to face the owner, hoping its Cyno.

A strange man you’ve never met smiles at you, already too close for comfort in this crowd. “You doing okay, little lady?” He asks, his voice dropped to a husky whisper as his hand trails up to your shoulder.

You scowl and push his hand away. “‘M fine,”

“Aw don’t be like that~ I just want to dance,” He coos, pouting obnoxiously, his voice a condescending tone. He’s really not going to leave you alone. “I can be your dance partner–”

“She already has one,” A new voice speaks from behind you, but you recognize this one. Childe slides up to you casually (when did he even get here?) and stares down the man. You can only turn your head to stare at him in confusion, a strange feeling burrowing into your stomach as he places his hand on your lower back. A light touch, easy enough to shake off once the creep disappeared, but high enough to make him see.

The man scoffs, “She can speak for herself, can’t she?” He defends, clearly not getting the hint. You roll your eyes, shaking out of whatever silence had overcome you and grabbing Childe’s hand.

“Like he said, I already have a partner,” You lift your intertwined fingers and pull Childe with you deeper into the crowd. Only, you don’t stop, crossing the floor as you try to find the edge of the dance floor, far away from the creep. You’re no longer interested in the fun of the crowd and pulsating bass line, wanting to find your friend. As soon as the two of you escape the pulsating wall of dancing bodies, you let go of the ginger’s hand.

Where were you headed? You aren’t sure. You don’t realise Childe is still following behind you until he gently takes hold of your wrist and stops you. You look around. You were trying to find Ganyu and Keqing again, to regroup at their table, but… this is a hallway, not the table. And, pointedly, it’s on the second floor of the club, a railing on one side opening up to reveal the dance floor and more of the first floor below.

“Y/n, are you okay?” Childe asks, his voice quieter now that the music isn’t blasting in your ears. The sound is slightly muffled now, but you can still feel the bass under your feet.

“I’m drunk,” You admit. “But I didn’t need you to save me, or to follow me,” You take a deep breath, collecting yourself. Childe sighs.

“Well, I’m not leaving you alone here,” He says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why not? I can handle myself,”

“Oh, you were really handling yourself back there with that guy. I’m sure your sarcasm was a real deterrent when you actually spoke up,” He sounds exasperated, raising his brows at you. You roll your eyes.

“Well, I would’ve if you’d not stepped in,”

He scoffs, throwing his arms up. “Why are you so stubborn? I was trying to help you?”

“I didn’t ask you to!” You step closer to him, pressing your finger against his chest. “I’m not some damsel in distress, and you don’t need to come to my aid!” You seethe, unsure why you’re even this frustrated. Your head was swimming, and you were beyond annoyed with yourself. You lost track of Cyno and you hadn’t even been able to pull yourself together to reject that guy. Even worse, you felt relieved when Childe had come up behind you, had felt a warmth in your chest, a bubbling fire when his hand had found your back. You didn’t like that feeling.

“I’m not going to look the other way while someone makes you uncomfortable, Y/n, is that so hard to believe?” The man’s voice brings you back to the conversation and you huff at his words, your lips pursing slightly.

“Why?”

He blinks, his head tilting to the side just slightly. It reminds you of a puppy, and for a brief second you understand the charm or his looks, and why so many girls fawned over him. “What do you mean? You’re…” He clears his throat, looking away from you. “You’re my friend,” He admits.

You find yourself lost for words for a second, the both of you staring at each other as his words settled in. It wasn’t hard to believe, necessarily. You’d been working together for a few months now, and had been setting aside your rivalry and amending it for the past three weeks now. As much as you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, you’d been softened to him, and he had definitely softened to you. But the way he says it, and the way it settles in your mind through the haze of your drunken state makes you feel like there’s something more to it.

You’re still staring at his face, your eyes glancing over all of his features, and your hand still pointing at his chest, the contact buzzing on your skin. You smooth your hand against his shirt and a thought pops into your mind. One you would normally never have or would push aside as soon as it came up. That is, if you weren’t drunk right now.

“Y/n?” Childe spoke up quietly, a half-question in his tone as he reached up and brushed some hair away from your eyes. You leaned forward into his touch, your body moving on its own without your brain’s interference.

“I want to kiss you,” You told him, your other hand coming up to hold the collar of his jacket. Where you got the boldness to speak your mind all of a sudden, you aren’t sure (it’s got to be the warm liquor, you think) but you don’t mind when the man lifts his brows slightly and lets out a soft chuckle.

And you don’t mind when he leans down and kisses you, capturing your lips with his quickly. Greedily, you meet his lips to kiss him back. And you taste the vodka he’d drank earlier on his tongue, the saccharine of the dessert he’d eaten at dinner making you drunk all over again. You feel heady, desperate even as you pull on his collar and drag him closer, your lips slotting against his as you exchange breaths.

His hands come up to cup the back of your head, deepening the kiss as he dips his tongue into the kiss. It’s needy and messy and you lose any bearings on where you are, gasping as the cold of the wall melts through the material of your dress. Another breathy gasp escapes you as Childe presses himself closer, pulling your thighs against his hips. His kisses meet your heated skin, goosebumps raising where the cool air hits you once he’s done his task. The air around you both seems to send sparks across your nerves, your body arching against his. You feel even more breathless than before, your head spinning with every second that passes.

Childe kisses you with a need and a desire you had never experienced before, the groans he lets our vibrating on your skin, dripping into your chest and curling in your stomach. Your heart pounds. You can’t get enough of this, tugging on his hair as another shiver runs down your spine. “Fuh-ck,” His voice cracks slightly as he kisses up your jaw, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. “So fuckin’ annoying, so pretty,” He’s mumbling and you’re not sure if it’s for you or himself but you couldn’t really care as you grip his shoulders, your lips parted with heavy pants.

It’s like you’re becoming intoxicated all over again, the sensations more than anything you’ve ever felt before. Electrified. You turn your head and cup Childe’s cheek, meeting his lips in another kiss, too lost to care about the clack of his teeth against yours. You recover as he straightens slightly, a soft whine in his throat when you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth. You could get lost in this forever, could stay in this moment until the sun rises and your deeds were laid bare for you to witness.

Well, you could, that is until you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket, vibrating insistently against your hip. You recognize the ringtone– though it takes you a second to do so –as Ganyu’s contact. The chiming cuts through your haze instantly. “Shit,” You blink rapidly to clear your head as you fish around for the device, both your feet meeting the ground again as Childe lets your thigh go. You lean back against the wall, the both of you snapping out of the moment. Childe steps back, turning his head away from you, his ears a bright burning red that you can make out even in the low lighting.

Your own cheeks feel like they’re burning through, your head leaning back on the wall when you answer the call. As soon as the phone is against your ear, you hear Ganyu asking a million questions. “Where are you?? Cyno, Ke, and I have been looking for you for, like, thirty minutes!” She sounds both worried and relieved that you answered.

You cringe internally. “I’m sorry,” You unhale sharply, trying not to sound too out of breath. “I-uh..” You glance towards the red-haired man, who was running his hands over his face now, still turning away from you out of respect. “I got lost and.. I was looking for you guys, but I found Childe,” You tell her. The phone call continues for a minute or so more, ending with you promising to find her again. As soon as you tuck the device back into your pocket, you turn back to Childe. “I guess it’s time to.. Head home,” You tell him, clearing your throat and gesturing towards the direction the two of you had initially come from.

Before you walk off, though, he stops you and fixes the straps on your dress wordlessly. “Here…” he mumbles, fixing any of the mess-ups in your hair. You giggle softly, reaching up and swiping your smudged lipstick off of the corner of his mouth. Once the both of you are sufficiently cleaned up and unsuspecting, you head out.

It takes a couple more minutes of searching before you find and regroup with everyone, relief flooding your system again when they all greet you, not making any comments about you or Childe’s appearances. Cyno pretends to sob and hangs off of your frame. “I’m sorryyyyyy,” He dramatically wails, his head on your shoulder. A giggle escapes you again as you weaved your arms underneath his, rocking back and forth with the white-haired man. “It’s okay,” You soothe in just as playful tone as he was using. You then look to Keqing and Ganyu, filling them in on what happened. You pointedly leave out the details of your argument turned… whatever the hell that was with Childe, clearing your throat when you get to that part.

“I took her upstairs to see if we could spot you guys from there,” Childe steps in, easily covering up your quietness. He seemed to be even less eager to share what you two had got up to, his voice quiet and his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks. Keqing hums, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Okay, you’re all sobering up and then we’re leaving,” She declares, sitting all of you down at the booth. She briefly departs before returning with waters, helping Cyno to sit up from where he was previously laying on your lap.

“I really am sorry for wandering off,” You tell her quietly, leaning your head against her shoulder. She pets the top of your head, holding your glass as you take a sip of the water.

“It’s okay,” She shrugs.

After sobering up a little more and enjoying some friendly conversation, mostly between the other two girls and Childe, Keqing leaves again to settle the tab. Childe kindly hands over his card for her to use, helping you and Cyno up out of the booth. Your white-haired friend seemed to get incredibly sleepy once everyone was together again, though he was able to hold himself up well with the two of you walking with him. You held his hand.

Your group then leaves and piles into the car. You slide into the back seat with the two men, sitting in between both of them. Ganyu and Keqing sit up front, talking quietly between them. Meanwhile, the three of you remain quiet in your drunken states, letting the night come to a quiet end for now. Your mind is still racing, and your heart is beating harshly, like you’re worried that your friends would be able to read your mind and see everything that happened.

Childe seems fine as the car starts, the slight bumpiness of the road doing little to jostle him as he sits upright, looking out the window with a glazed look in his eyes. You and Cyno lean against each other for support, practically cuddling as you fight to stay awake in the back seat. Cyno hums to the music Keqing has playing on the radio, his head resting on top of yours.

And somewhere, in your dozed and half-aware state, you find Childe’s hand, your pointer and middle finger hooked around his in the darkness of the back seat…

———

A/Ns: ehehehehe >:) likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated, and don't forget to stay hydrated <33

TAGLIST: @popiizpops @scaradooche @yourfavoritefreakyhan @neversore

[dduane]

With regards to etiquette regarding authors and fan-works: how does this work with authors who participate in fandom subsequently writing authorized spin-offs or...whatever you'd call "I don't own this IP but I have permission to publish a thing"? Obviously "don't send someone fic directly so they can choose whether or not to engage" is a good rule to follow, but if you — as an example — read a bunch of Sherlock fic and then get hired to write a Sherlock novel, is that then legally problematic?

Hmm.

Let's first sharpen up the terminology a bit, so we can all be sure what we're talking about. The owners of a given IP may not necessarily be the ones tasked with the actual business of inviting others into the property to create new material in that universe. So for convenience's sake let's just lump the actual owners and the ones managing the IP on their behalf together as "the Licensors". The person/s allowed by the licensor to execute this new art, or to hire people to do it, is/are the licensee/s. (...It's actually a little more complicated than that, but let's leave it there for the moment.)

Now, about your first question: let me head first for a situation where I've been in the past, so I can tell you what I did.

Let's say someone who's read Star Trek fanfic—not exactly vast amounts, but some, a decade or so previously—goes pro and then gets asked by the licensor, "Hey, wanna write a Star Trek novel?" When that happened to me, I let my editor know that I'd read some Trek fic in my time, but would do my best to avoid any storyline that was anything like any fic material I could remember. And for a long time I had an informal agreement with Pocket Books—noncontractual, but one I adhered to rigidly—that I would avoid reading any Trek fanfic while I was writing Trek professionally, and would only read Trek material provided to me by the publisher themselves. (This habit has persisted for a long while, as—these days in particular—there's no telling when the phone might ring...)

Back in the day, this approach worked well enough to be going on with. For one thing, Trek fanfic was then way thinner on the ground than it is now, and (being printed pretty much exclusively in paper fanzines) was far easier to avoid. It also worked because I had no desire whatsoever to take the chance of borrowing anybody else's material to begin with. Then as now, I'd have felt that would've been seriously wrong—and anyway, I had more than enough ideas of my own. ...And it worked for a third set of reasons, peculiar to Trek.

Early on, the attitude of (first Paramount, then Gulf&Western, then... who came next? Viacom? Anyway—) the corporate owners was essentially, "We own this IP; nobody should be writing fic in it without our permission; if anybody gives us grief about one of our books being like something of theirs they wrote illegally, we'll come after them with the lawyers." This attitude was markedly not Roddenberry's (at least early on...). He absolutely knew about fic, saw it at conventions, and largely seemed not to mind. This weird dichotomy of stances contributed to an atmosphere in which ficcing fans were inclined to walk softly, try to keep from being noticed by the corporate levels, and (if they engaged with Gene on the subject) keep it very low-key.

Now around the same time I was doing my first couple/few Trek works, the profic/fanfic interface started to get spikier. This was at least partly due to the problems that followed Marion Zimmer Bradley's engagement with a fan writer in her Darkover universe. At least partly as a result of this, various pros' attitudes toward people ficcing in their universes noticeably hardened—the emphasis shifting from concerns about personal preference to sharper ones centering on the writer's potential legal exposure. (Though the two kinds of issue did sometimes get tangled together.)

So that bubbled along for a good while in the background, coming more seriously to the boil when the Internet became a thing, and fic started to percolate through it in newsgroups and mailing lists and (finally) onto easily accessible web pages; and most recently, into platforms like AO3.

And this is where the question of ease of access becomes a significant part of the equation, and the picture shifts equally significantly.

I can't help but smile at the phrasing "If you—as an example—read a bunch of Sherlock fic and then get hired to write a Sherlock novel..." Because though there may be some Tumblerini sitting at the bottom of the crater Daedalus or in the depths of Valles Marineris* who don't know about this, well, I'm a Sherlock fan... and this query is pertinent.

Let's say that Messiah comes, the King returns, and the BBC commissions Sherlock S5. And secondary to that, let's say that the production staff call my agent and say, "We hear you've got this hot licensed-property writer who's done work for all these different licensors. How about you ask her if she wants to write a Sherlock novel for us?"

And now we're up against it... because there's more than one kind of tie-in novel.

One is the kind where you novelize a script. Of agreeing to that I'd have no fear, because the boundaries of such work are tightly circumscribed. The writer's job in such a situation is to render the dialogue and visuals as gracefully as possible into prose, and otherwise to avoid unnecessary flights of fancy that might jar against the writers'/producers' creative vision. ...So if that was what they wanted, I'd pretend to think about it for a couple of days, and then have the agent call them back and say "Yeah, sure, let's do it." (And then the shrieks of delight would begin. Sometimes it's useful to live this far out in the country.)

But if they wanted an original novel? A new Sherlock story?...

I would have to say no. Because my AO3 bookmarks are hip-deep in Sherlock fics, and there is no way, NO way, I could say with my hand on my heart that I was sure I wasn't going to wind up, however accidentally, borrowing or restating something I'd seen of someone else's. If I accepted that job, and then (a year, two years, five years later) someone appeared with evidence in their hands and said, "You used a situation / language that's clearly mine", I would be utterly shattered.

And would it be "legally problematic"? You bet it would. Forgive me for not spelling out all the ways it could be Bad. But even if the situation was finally resolved in the friendliest way possible for everybody concerned, the fact of what had gone wrong would hang like a shadow over every other piece of licensed work I might ever want to do. (And there probably wouldn't be a lot of those.)

So realistically speaking, the ethics of the situation would make that a challenge I wouldn't dare take. I would walk away and try my best to keep to myself the annoyance that would follow. It'd be sad, but it'd be necessary: because the lines I expect to be drawn to protect me, I must also make sure will equally protect others. It's only right.

Anyway, thanks for the question(s). Hope I've sufficiently covered the ground; and HTH.

*I almost typed that as "Valles Marinaris". Yeah, the Solar System's biggest known crevasse now suddenly full of spaghetti sauce? I almost did that. Always proof your copy three times...

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

3 Pink Roses Mean, "I Love You"

- Nanami Kento (ch9)

synopsis: a confession from Nanami sweeps out. Nobara, being the best assistant ever, helps you pursue a new project, and Nanami comes home late one night to reassure you. A romantic date is planned where feelings blossom. Gojo is also a nosy blob.

series masterlist

For as long as he could remember, Nanami Kento had always kept his emotions under check. Never in his life had he had to control his words, except in the case of Gojo where he really, and his therapist agrees, really exhausts his limits.

The businessman keeps his emotions as generalized as he can, relying on facts rather than emotion, it's what you have to do when you're in the corporate world. The world will believe facts over sentiments any day, it's what you can prove on paper what matters. So it became a habit for him. Ever since his university years, his job managed to solidify those beliefs. Mindlessly stimulate his brain with numbers and graphs until he's just too tired to feel at the end of the day.

Too tired to function.

Two days after your progressive 'movie' night with Nanami, he wakes up earlier than usual, assuring to call out from work for a few hours. He could never not take the day off, wouldn't allow himself.

“So, Nanami, I heard you went on vacation. How did that go?” The woman in front of him smiles, resting her bullet point pen against the spine of her notebook. She doesn't write at this moment, and she knows Nanami is observing if whether or not she'll write this conversation down.

"It went well," he replies, noticing her strands of hair are a darker shade than Gojo's. "I... I went to Boston, with my partner."

“A partner?” Her eyebrows raise in surprise, “You never mentioned you were seeing someone. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” 

“How long have you been together? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Two months.”

Technically, it wasn’t a lie. They met in June and July was already here, so that did count as two months.

If you were stretching the truth. 

“What did the two of you do in Boston? My husband and I haven’t been to a red socks game in forever and the lobster at Neptune Oyster is to die for.” 

“We visited the Aquarium,” Nanami focuses on the patchwork of her coat, “and we took a boat tour as well.” 

“Sounds like the two of you are compatible.”

“What makes you say that, Doctor?”

“You strike me as a relaxed fellow, Nanami. I’m sure your partner is the same? Unless she’s more enthusiastic, of course.” she holds a knowing smile, “because I could see that working out.”

“She’s…" Nanami searches for the words, "smart, well intentioned, independent, compassionate...”

“Sounds like a determined woman if you ask me.” the professional points out with a short chuckle. “It also sounds like she’s someone special because I’ve never heard you talk so highly about anyone. Not like your co-worker,” she notices Nanami roll his eyes, making her bite back a smile.

“Has this partner positively affected your day-to-day life?” 

“She makes me look forward to coming back home,” he replies. 

“Oh, so the two of you live together?”

Nanami freezes, fuck. 

“We... uh… we made the decision to move in before Boston…”

“So is that like a honeymoon thing?” she asks, genuinely curious, “Because I know younger people like to skip the-”

“-It was just for fun,” he quickly clarifies, “the trip.” and the word fun rolls off his tongue with such foreignness that even he can feel a shift in the room.

A moment passes by before the woman smiles at him.

“Well, that’s good to hear.” she says before adjusting a photo of her with a young man, Nanami presumes, no older than 21 wearing a cap and gown. 

“That’s my son,” she grins, following Nanami's eyes, unashamed to show off her son, “Michael, 21. Graduated in Economics from NYU. I believe you were a student there as well?”

“Only for Law.”

“Oh, so you’re a Lawyer?”

“No." He shakes his head, "I dropped after my 2nd year.”

“Change of career?”

“More like change of life,” he answers dryly, “My… my father was a Lawyer, and he owned a law firm of his own…”

“Then... what happened?"

"I… I’m not a good person," Nanami's voice feels caught through his windpipes. It is only then when Nanami decides to take the covers off. He thinks that if he were ever to unveil such personal detail of his life, then everyone around him would flee, and see him as the bastard he deserves to be called.

"I’m not a good person because... I ruined someone’s life."

“This is a lovely painting," Nobara sighs in content, "tell me, where in the world did your boyfriend buy this for you?”

As you and your interior designer admired your painting from the living room, you couldn’t help but stiffen as she was not aware of any arrangements you had with Nanami, like the fact the two of you slept in separate bedrooms. Nobara had suggested you hang the painting in your ‘shared’ bedroom', but the idea was immediately thrown out the window along with placing the painting in the hallway. 

“It was at an auction in Boston,” the palm of your hand rests on the back of your neck, “I actually didn’t know it was an auction until Nanami and I reached the end of the art gallery.”

“Wow, so you’re telling me he had to bargain for this baby?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say-”

“-Did he compete with anyone? What was the starting bid?” You could see the apparent interest in her voice that made your cheeks warm. Nobara’s passion for art and design peeked through the cracks of her voice, dying for an answer. 

“It was a starting bid of $12,500 and there was just one bidder apart from him.”

“How much did he pay for it?” she asked. 

“$25,000 dollars.” 

The realization of your confession didn’t sink until after Nobara’s widened eyes. You lucky girl! No wonder why you were so quiet and against putting this baby in your bedroom! You want your guests to see this work! 

Nobara’s hands were freshly moisturized that you could see the glistening lotion through the sun’s rays hitting her skin. The large windows to your shared apartment were expansive, granting you and anyone who stepped foot into your home an impressive view of San Francisco. Large buildings, primarily from tech-related businesses to the view of the Golden Gate Bridge itself. If you tilted your head a little more to the right, you could see the full bridge, but you stood place as you heard Nobara’s words of excitement for you. 

“I can’t believe this marks the end of our project, I was really hoping to do more, but-”

“-wait,” you stop her, “maybe there is. I’ve been wanting to do something, but I’d like your word on it. C-can I take you upstairs? To the rooftop, that is?”

That day, you learned that it was possible to impress Nobara Kugisaki with your words, allowing her into your home was already a delight for her, so you would only hope she would accept your idea as you took her to the rooftop of the building.

“It’s a bit dusty up here,” you admit, “who knows when the last time anyone came up here was, but can we fix this? Maybe add a small furniture piece or even fairy lights?”

“We can do that,” Nobara softly kicked the leg of one of the abandoned plastic chairs with the point of her boot. She turned to you. 

“By when do you want this complete?”

“Before the 4th of July.”

“That’s possible...” she contemplates, “...but I do want one thing.” 

Your eyes widen at her first ever request, “what is it?”

"Take a picture with Nanami outside," she smiles. "I'll check when the best hour for firework sightings is, but I'm pretty sure this rooftop has one of the best views in San Franciso." She suggests, possibly reading your mind, "Plan a picnic with him out here, get all romantic, and enjoy yourself. That's all I want to see- a happy couple in love."

Her words make you blush, filling your heart with hope, and maybe something more. This idea could work. You could do something special for Nanami, make his day worth something, and fulfill your obvious role as his fake girlfriend. But were you taking your role too seriously? You could care less, focusing instead on the details for Saturday. Hopeful for a successful... date?

"A little birdie told me someone's turning a year older todayy," Gojo's words echoed as Nanami worked in his desk, arriving to his desk, Satoru plops down a party hat, a few decorative birthday accessories that were probably way too much, and a birthday candle- the kind that exaggeratingly lights up like a firework.

A few days after Nanami's appointment, he had been extra cordial around you. And as expected, he was not home during the hours you were up, either leaving too early or arriving too late. He was thankful for your understanding, and the lunch break messages would now appear every 2-3 days. Nanami figured you were either giving him the space he needed, or you were too busy to message. Either way, he was grateful no one had made a big deal about this as much.

"So tell me," Gojo leans forward and rests his elbows on top of Nanami's paperwork, "What will Nanami Kento do tonight? Does he have a date? Is he seeing his girlfriend?"

Knowing he was striking a chord, Nanami grunts, giving him a displeased look until he freezes, noting the small loaf of banana bread he would frequent from his favorite bakery. His shoulders visibly relaxed. "How did you know."

"It's easy to figure out your birthday, also Facebook has these crazy reminders- you should try them out. The other day I forgot it was my Grandma's birthday and that website came in clut-"

"-I didn't need to know all of that information," Nanami says, then sighs, "but... thank you."

Astonished by his oddly accepting demeanor, Satoru's eyes widen. "Wait- don't tell me- did something happen with your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfr-"

"-Side chick,"

"She's not a side chick."

"Okay... uh... friends with benefits?"

"I'm offended you think I might even consider that,"

"Okay, sheesh." Satoru huffs a piece of stray hair from his forehead, "Lady friend," he hears no complaint from Nanami and Satoru takes this as a silent victory. "I assume you guys are going out?"

"In this weekend?" Nanami questions, "it's a holiday, traffic is horrible, and I'd rather stay in."

"God," Satoru makes a noise of disgust, "I forgot how boring you can be. Let's hope Mrs. Lady-Friend makes something out of this," he says as he now stands, leaning against the desk. A long moment passes as he now eyes the banana loaf.

"Now give me a smile because I've got to take a photo with my best co-worker buddy,"

It isn't until past 11 when Nanami comes home exhausted that he notices you're still miraculously up. With a bun of messy hair, the laptop charger sitting under on the table gives him the impression that you've been here for some time. “You came.”

“I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“You didn’t.” you exhale, “I figured you’d show up.”

Nanami suddenly feels her stare at him harder, “Whose birthday was it?”

“Huh?" he asks before looking down at his chest, crap. He forgot to take off the decorations Satoru made him wear. Both a party hat and birthday shoulder sling decorate his upper body.

"A-a coworker of mine wanted to celebrate my birthday.” he awkwardly stands.

“It... it’s your birthday?” 

“It’s fine,” he regrets saying it was his birthday now, “I-I even forgot it was my own.”

“But I didn’t know,” she mutters to herself in self-disappointment. “I… I should have asked…”

“It’s fine, we never really got to that part in our relationship.”

“But I should have known,” she defends with a slight frown, “It’s… it’s my job to make this relationship feel easy-” He suddenly cuts you off.

“-This is not a job that should feel like it’s a burden. It’s not your fault. Blame me too, I don’t know your birthday either.”

“But you’re always so busy…”

Not for you, he wants to say. Instead, he takes a step forward, placing his hands at the sides of her arms in reassurance. This is what couples do, right?

“Don’t give yourself a headache over this.” He tells you, your breathing deepens when his hands massage her arms. Nanami notices you're uncertain by the way she turns to her feet.

“Look at me,” he softly says.

“None of this was under your control.”

Taking you by surprise, he presses your body against his, arms wrapping themselves around your waist, and your face buries itself on his chest. 

“I know," you breathe, " ’m sorry.” 

“Why on earth are you apologizing for?”

"I don't know... I feel like I failed you.''

"There's no way you failed me, sweet girl." he says, softly placing a gentle hand on the back of your head as you lean against him, eyes closed and mind too full to notice what was going on right now. "I should've discussed holidays and birthdays with you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to become so taxing for you." glancing down towards you he speaks once more. "How about we do something this weekend, hm? go out?"

"Mhm," you hum, feeling him pull you closer, not saying anything yet as you had plans and surprises in store for him. ''You came late today."

"I did,"

“Will you be working tomorrow?” a gleam of hope surpasses your eyes, “it’ll be the 4th.”

Nanami shrugs, “I fail to see how that’s a holiday worth celebrating given this country’s historical and current standing.” he pauses, face softening, “but I’ll make an exception. Did you have something planned already?”

“Sorta,” you bite the inside your cheek, “but it doesn’t have to 4th of July focused, we can just celebrate your birthday.”

“Okay,” he breathes, “so what did you have in mind?”

“Can’t tell you,” you smile, “it’s a surprise.”

He chuckles, "Of course. Well... I'll be off tomorrow at 4, will that work for you?"

"It sounds perfect."

"Very well," you can't really see if the corner of his lip tugs upwards in the dim light, but you imagine it does by the sound of his voice. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yes," you breathe, breathless almost. "Don't work too hard, okay?"

As he makes his way towards his room, he thinks, for you? this is nothing.

a/n: I am terrible with taglists. I promise I will redo them. let me know in the comments if you'd like to be tagged/removed.

tag list: @mishroses @musegonemad @sweetteez @kachowness @summerli-u @r0ses4ndlilies @justoutheretrynaread @citrusteaa @fic-for-readers

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