#case inquiries within «¤» ( asks

[detectivewoof-a]

25. for a protective starter . || @huntrcsss

In hindsight? He probably should’ve discussed further just how far he was willing to go to keep the denizens of this town safe. Like now, it was supposed to just be a routine checkup since no one had seen Rodney in some time. 

Nothing routine about finding the guy half-starved and feral, that was for sure. 

Hardly a hesitation to grab her by the shoulder and pull her back, even less when it came to blasting the struggling beast square through the head with the pistol he had on hand. Species specifics? Manny wasn’t sure, but he did know nothing in town tended to come back from having a 9mm pound through their skull. 

“Well... we found him.” 

[dreamermonica]

jersey no. 10s + would love me if i was a worm ?

—gender neutral reader, established relationships, fluff, some crack, just silly banters with them, lots of teasing from reader, and kaiser ig on his part🪰

RIN side-eyes you. it's in the middle of a horror movie marathon when you ask him that question, effectively pulling him out of his focus on the show as he attempts to process your strange inquiry.

it's obvious from the way that he doesn't immediately call your question dumb or stupid that he's already used to these type of conversations. a perk of being surrounded by weirdos perhaps? anyway, it still doesn't refrain him from raising a brow at the abruptness of your out-of-the-blue query.

within a short moment of contemplation, he blinks away from your expectant expression back to the screen. you visibly deflate at his nonchalance.

“no.” bluntly does he say. you blink.

“so you don't love me for me?”

“i simply don't see myself loving a worm. it doesn't matter if it's you or not.”

he deliberately ignores the piercing and offended stare on the side of his face.

“so unfair! i would love you if you were a worm!” you whine as you shake his arm.

“doubt it.” he leans back further onto the couch to eye you again from his periphery, momentarily pausing the movie to apprehend your whining. “if i were ever to become a worm, I'd kill myself. i can't become the world's best striker with no limbs.”

“still thinking about football 'till now? jackass.” you playfully pout before turning back to the screen again. he quietly resumes the movie with a thoughtful nod. as a jumpscare comes up and you huddle to his side in surprise, you think the discussion is dropped entirely until he speaks up once more.

“there's that and,”

he suddenly leans close to your ear, arm skillfully placed on the backrest of the couch to wrap you in, your eyes widening when you feel his breath fanning on the side of your face.

it's barely above a whisper when he says it,

“—the fact i wouldn't be able to spend nights like these with you.”

...huh?

oh my. you must've been hearing things—because the next thing you know is that a pillow is roughly thrown onto your face.

SAE resolves the weird question with a playful pinch to your cheeks. he deals with enough dumbassery (shidou) already to even think of entertaining your question, but god, your squished face and cheeks look really adorable right now, so he'll humor you for a bit.

“ow, ow, ow...”

“maybe. maybe not.” his stare remains blank and bored as your face scrunches in pain with the faint stinging on your cheek. upon seeing your discomfort, he immediately drops his hands, stuffing them in his pockets, “depends if we're both worms or not.”

humming as you soothingly rub your cheeks mindlessly, you stick out a tongue at him. “how about only me as a worm with my face on it?”

he glowers at the thought, “creepy. don't push it.”

“then me as a normal worm...?”

“i'd feed you to shidou. he'd treat you well.”

you sigh depressingly at the thought of swimming in that soccer demon's stomach acid. “no getting through you, huh. would it kill you to be sappy for once...?”

“if we were both worms, then yes, i'd love you. happy now?”

“hooray!”

he deliberately pushes your face away from his line of sight, scowling as you try to kiss him with your lips exaggeratedly puckered much to his dismay, “who the hell cheers like that? weirdo.”

“your weirdo.”

you send him a wink, a half-assed attempt at rizzing him up and yet he thought he’d explode right then and there. his expression stays indifferent though. no way he’s exposing himself like that.

“yeah. only mine.” the taste of victory is sweet on his tongue as he watches you turn red at his words.

KAISER...oh, kaiser.

in his case, it's the other way around.

you are the one getting pestered to answer his strange question instead. courtesy of his greed for your attention. gotta thank the heavens above when you decide to entertain his antics instead of strangling him.

“what brought this question forth?” you stare at him in boredom, sinking into the comfy confines of the couch he's leaning over at to smile at you dopily. you resist the urge to kiss his face right then and there.

“nothing~ just trying to see if you're only after my body or not.”

“...but i'm not into worms—”

“it's me! as a worm! the handsome and prodigal michael kaiser!” he pushes, feigning hurt as he dramatically places a hand to his chest. “why are you doubting me? i can't believe my darling out of all people would do this to me.”

you hum for a while as your gaze moves up to the ceiling, paying no mind whatsoever to the sob story he's fabricating to garner your sympathy as well. you press a finger to your lips curiously, “would the worm version of you keep your toned body and beautiful golden hair?”

“uh...good question—wait, you are after my body!”

“yes. is that a problem?” you can't help the smug look that crosses your face upon seeing kaiser's offended reaction, to which immediately turns into a scowl as he leans closer towards your face.

“what,” your hand raises to graze against his cheek, trailing down to his neck as you caress his iconic blue rose tattoo. “can't take a little joke, mihya?”

he stiffens at your touch, eyes widening for a moment, before he ultimately resigns himself to a heavy sigh of defeat, maneuvering his hand to grasp your wandering fingers over his collarbone, stopping your advances as he pouts playfully.

“this is why i like my side chicks better.”

“hah? repeat that again you little—”

“can't take a little joke, mein liebling?”

taken aback, you glare at him. he winks back.

forcibly given a taste of your own medicine, you huff outwardly and opt to push his stupidly handsome face away from your sight before it angers you any further. a sense of clarity already being gained when he is no longer is in your peripherals.

“go talk to them if they're so much better than me then.”

“oh, cmon.”

this was collecting dust for months in my drafts take it as u may , i might be more active soon✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

[queeranarchism]

Feel like this should be getting some more attention.

"Now, an investigation by the Guardian and the Israeli-based magazines +972 and Local Call can reveal how Israel has run an almost decade-long secret “war” against the court. The country deployed its intelligence agencies to surveil, hack, pressure, smear and allegedly threaten senior ICC staff in an effort to derail the court’s inquiries. ...

It is this spectre of prosecutions in The Hague that one former Israeli intelligence official said had led the “entire military and political establishment” to regard the counteroffensive against the ICC “as a war that had to be waged, and one that Israel needed to be defended against. It was described in military terms.”

That “war” commenced in January 2015, when it was confirmed that Palestine would join the court after it was recognised as a state by the UN general assembly. Its accession was condemned by Israeli officials as a form of “diplomatic terrorism”. ...

On 16 January 2015, within weeks of Palestine joining, Bensouda opened a preliminary examination into what in the legalese of the court was called “the situation in Palestine”. The following month, two men who had managed to obtain the prosecutor’s private address turned up at her home in The Hague. ....

“If Fatou Bensouda spoke to any person in the West Bank or Gaza, then that phone call would enter [intercept] systems,” one source said. Another said there was no hesitation internally over spying on the prosecutor, adding: “With Bensouda, she’s black and African, so who cares?” ....

after the ICC had opened a full investigation into the Palestine case, Gantz designated Al-Haq and five other Palestinian rights groups as “terrorist organisations”, a label that was rejected by multiple European states and later found by the CIA to be unsupported by evidence. The organisations said the designations were a “targeted assault” against those most actively engaging with the ICC. ....

A core ICC principle, known as complementarity, prevents the prosecutor from investigating or trying individuals if they are the subject of credible state-level investigations or criminal proceedings.

Israeli surveillance operatives were asked to find out which specific incidents might form part of a future ICC prosecution, multiple sources said, in order to enable Israeli investigative bodies to “open investigations retroactively” in the same cases.

“If materials were transferred to the ICC, we had to understand exactly what they were, to ensure that the IDF investigated them independently and sufficiently so that they could claim complementarity,” one source explained."

28 May 2024

[anghraine]

Random thought before back to defense prep:

Something I find interesting and enjoyable about P&P is the way that Austen both foreshadows various revelations about Darcy and complicates them before they ever happen. This is typically done through subtle asides or quick interchanges that don't necessarily register as that significant at the time, but still gives the readers a chance to pick up on what's really going to happen.

Just a few examples:

1- Elizabeth and Charlotte briefly discuss how difficult it would be for an outsider, and perhaps Bingley himself, to detect Jane's true feelings:

It was generally evident, whenever they [Jane and Bingley] met, that he did admire her; and to her [Elizabeth] it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference which she had begun to entertain for him from the first, and was in a way to be very much in love; but she [Elizabeth] considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane united with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and an uniform cheerfulness of manner, which would guard her from the suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend, Miss Lucas. “It may, perhaps, be pleasant,” replied Charlotte, “to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded.”

2- Darcy tries to warn Elizabeth at the Netherfield Ball:

“I can readily believe,” answered he, gravely, “that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.”

3- Charlotte tries to "read" Darcy at Rosings:

He [Darcy] seldom appeared really animated. Mrs Collins knew not what to make of him. Colonel Fitzwilliam’s occasionally laughing at his stupidity proved that he was generally different, which her own knowledge of him could not have told her; and as she would have liked to believe this change the effect of love, and the object of that love her friend Eliza, she set herself seriously to work to find it out: she watched him whenever they were at Rosings, and whenever he came to Hunsford; but without much success.

4- literally the next chapter, one of the funnier miscommunications between Elizabeth and Darcy in Kent:

More than once did Elizabeth, in her ramble within the park, unexpectedly meet Mr Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought; and, to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him, at first, that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time, therefore, was very odd! Yet it did, and even the third. It seemed like wilful ill-nature, or a voluntary penance; for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or of listening much; but it struck her in the course of their third rencontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions—about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr and Mrs Collins’s happiness; and that in speaking of Rosings, and her not perfectly understanding the house, he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying there too. His words seemed to imply it.

Very mysterious!!!! Definitely none of their communications here could justifiably be misread!!

[ak319]

Lovesick Village Boy x Fem civil servant reader

Part II

➺Part I

It's been two days since your arrival at Al-Razeh. Maha, your PA, poured tea into your cup and hers, and you both sat down, enjoying the evening and relaxing on your estate's lawn.

"The weather is nice today, Ma'am," Maha said, taking in the cool breeze.

"Indeed," you replied, savoring the calm. After a moment, you turned to her. "By the way, you’ve lived here all your life, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," she answered, glancing at you curiously.

"So... any folklore tied to this village? Since, you know, villages are known to be famous for such things." You smiled, lighting the mood with a bit of humor. “Often having their own stories.”

Maha chuckled softly at your inquiry and drew her chair a bit closer to yours. “Well, not exactly folklore, but there is this family. Personally, neither my family nor I are closely acquainted with them, but…” She took a sip of her tea, her words now capturing all your attention.

"They are the Jafaris--Kadir Jafari’s family, they own general stores here, two of them. He has three sons. The oldest two are married and have children, but their youngest… he’s always been something of an enigma around here.”

Your curiosity piqued, you snorted softly. “An enigma?”

“Yes, ma’am, an enigma,” Maha’s voice took on a tone of anxious seriousness. “He’s known for his extraordinary beauty. I have not seen him myself though. So, up until he was about sixteen, everything seemed fine. But then, he suddenly vanished from his friends’ lives and stopped attending school. Despite the family’s best efforts to conceal the issue, it eventually came to light that he was... possessed. The situation was dire, his agonizing screams were reportedly heard throughout the quiet streets. This was happening around the time of his second brother’s wedding. Guests at the house, including those from the neighboring families, overheard the commotion. The disturbances along with conflicts within the family caused tensions to rise, and at one point, it nearly led to the engagement being called off. Fortunately, the wedding went ahead, but Habib was absent, cited as being ill by his family.”

You listened with growing intrigue, though a pang of sympathy tugged at your heart. Such occurrences were tragically real, and often, people not only suffered but sometimes perished.

"Let me guess," you said, shifting your gaze to Maha, "you mentioned he was--no, is--beautiful?"

"Yes, that’s correct."

"Then black magic? Possibly from relatives?" You inquired, noting the surprised look in Maha’s eyes.

"Y-yes," she stammered. "I mean, that's what most of the people think. The cleric himself when consulted by some of the village elders, particularly Kadir’s friends, didn't reveal anything except that it was indeed something paranormal."

"That's often the case with such situations," you remarked. "Clerics typically avoid naming names if it's a matter of black magic. If you discover the culprit on your own, that's one thing, but directly asking the clerics usually only gets you vague responses. Or maybe the family didn't want the details out."

Black magic presented a confusing challenge when it came to legal matters. The laws were clear, if someone was caught practicing black magic, they faced severe penalties. Yet, the shadowy nature of these practices often meant that many perpetrators remained hidden. Clerics, bound by their own reasons, often withheld crucial information about those involved. In villages like Al-Razeh, such issues could be predictably common. To you, black magic was not merely a mystical concern but a serious crime. The victims deserved justice, and those who perpetuated such malevolence needed to be held accountable.

“Ma’am, how do you know so much about these things?” Maha’s childlike curiosity brought a smile to your face.

“Nothing special,” you replied, “just a hobby. So, how is the boy now?”

"Oh! I missed a part," Maha said, her voice dropping to a more serious tone. "People, like you mentioned, initially suspected the relatives because that's common in cases of black magic. But his brothers were also under suspicion. They always seemed to harbor resentment towards Habib. After all, he’s the most beautiful of them, so it wouldn't be surprising if they were involved. Men too get jealous over these matters."

With a pitiful sigh, you set your cup on the table and leaned back. "It breaks one’s heart to hear such stories--family turning against family. This... magic stuff is no joke. Deep-rooted jealousy can lead to such tragic outcomes, tearing apart lives and families."

"Indeed," Maha agreed solemnly. "But it could just have been a normal possession and not caused by magic cuz like I said, he is said to be very beautiful. He's reportedly doing better now, but he hasn’t left the house since then. It might be the cleric’s advice, or perhaps it's his parents' protectiveness or... his brothers' doing. Some people speculate that he might have died."

“What? Died? But didn’t the cleric solve his problem?” you asked, puzzled.

“Yes, he did. It’s just a rumor--he can’t be dead. You can't hide something like that for so long. People who are the family's relatives and friends, have seen him inside the house. So, he’s definitely there.” Maha chuckled, shaking her head at the absurdity of such rumors.

"What about the cleric? He still here?"

"Oh no, he was from some other place. Kadir called him here for his son's treatment." You hummed and took in the information. Then a subtle smirk graced your lips.

“It could have been a lover, too,” you suggested casually.

“What?”

You petted Milo, your cat, who had jumped onto your lap. “It might have been a lover who cursed him, someone who wanted him. One of the leading cause for black magic."

“He was 16.”

You laughed, “So? She could have been 16 too. Who knows? Anyway, did you put the reports in my study?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, I’ll go freshen up.” You stood up, leaving Maha to enjoy her tea on the lawn. Your thoughts shifted away from the village story, focusing instead on the duties that lay ahead.

═════ ◈ ═════

Odai stepped into the small shop, removing his glasses as his gaze briefly settled on the figure behind the counter. What caught his attention were the eyes--unmistakably unique, as if they held a quiet depth. But the rest of the man’s face was hidden beneath a cloth, adding an air of mystery.

"Um, two packs of cigarettes." Odai glanced back at the car parked outside across the road. Through the tinted windows, he could see his reflection.

"I can't."

Odai’s head snapped back in surprise. Is he hearing things?

"Two packs of cigarettes, brother," he repeated, a bit more firmly this time.

But the man behind the counter shook his head again, those evasive eyes refusing to reveal more. What was going on?

"What?--what do you mean? It’s just a pack of cigarettes. Why are you saying no?"

"I-I can't sell them... I don't want to."

"Why? That’s your job! Why even own a shop then? Is this how you treat your customers?" Odai's frustration grew.

"No... I just don’t sell cigarettes... They’re harmful."

Was this man serious? Was he actually joking?

"Look, boy. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I need them, so I’m gonna ask one last time before I leave. Hand over the cigarettes."

But all he got in return was another silent shake of the head. That was it.

"Fine, keep running your business like this bud and you’re bound for success," Odai muttered, "And maybe don’t stock cigarettes in your shop if you’re not planning to sell them!"

He stormed back to the car, slamming the driver’s door shut accidentally. The noise made you glance up from your file.

"What’s wrong? Did you get them?" you asked, noticing his disgruntled expression.

"I’m so-rry, ma’am… um… the boy in the shop… he refused to sell. God, I can’t believe it--like, what even was that? But there's another store nearby so , we will go there." Odai stammered, frustration clear in his voice. Before he could shift into gear, you stopped him with a curious question.

"Wait, he refused to sell cigarettes?"

"Yes." Odai nodded, still baffled.

"That’s interesting. And did he say why?"

"They’re harmful." Odai’s ears flushed as he heard you chuckle softly. He wasn’t sure if you were annoyed or just amused by the whole thing.

"Now this is intriguing. Someone refusing to run their business properly... now that’s a case worth looking into." Still chuckling, you slipped out of the car before Odai could respond, but he quickly followed, his curiosity piqued.

Like him, you took in the scene before heading to the small counter tucked in the corner. There, the figure sat quietly, standing the moment you approached, his demeanor almost shy under your gaze.

"You’re the one who refuses to sell cigarettes because they’re harmful?" you asked, your voice curious yet firm.

He nodded. His eyes, though not meeting yours directly, seemed to speak in a language of their own--soft but full of meaning.

"Do you know who I am?" You wondered if the uniform might catch his attention.

A brief silence followed before his voice, barely above a whisper, reached you. "No.."

"I am the new DC."

"T-he DC?"

"That's right."

"I still… won’t sell." Odai huffed behind you, clearly irritated, but you hardly noticed. Your eyes softened, lighting up with quiet amusement at the childlike defiance. "Why? This is not how you run a shop, boy."

"I don’t want you....our… new DC to be harmed. I won’t let a pack… kill an honest officer."

For a moment, time seemed to still. Never in your life did you imagine hearing something so simple, yet so profound. His words, spoken with such gentleness, struck something deep inside you. Just who was this man? You could sense Odai’s stunned silence behind you, just as surprised by the unexpected warmth in those gentle words.

After clearing your throat, you finally asked, "What’s your name?"

"H-Habib, miss."

This… this is Habib? The Habib that Maha had told you about?

"They’re the Jafaris--Kadir Jafari’s family. They own general stores around here, two of them."

And here you were, standing in one of them. But how was he… here?

From behind a curtain serving as a door to an adjoined room, a man in his late fifties appeared, his presence steady and familiar. He moved to stand beside Habib.

'That must be Kadir, his father.'

"Oh! I’m sorry, I was just praying in the other room. How may I help you?" Kadir asked politely, his tone warm. Meanwhile, Habib stood quietly to the side, his gaze fixed downward, trying to shrink into the background, as if seeking shelter behind his father’s presence.

"Well, our DC wanted some cigarettes, and this boy refused to sell them," Odai interjected with a trace of frustration in his voice.

"Oh--I’m so sorry. Ma’am, please, forgive him. He’s new to this… and, well, he refuses to sell them to anyone," Kadir said with a chuckle that barely masked his embarrassment, as he reached for the cigarettes.

"No, it’s alright. Really, I don’t want them. And… you’ve raised a kind soul, sir," you said, your gaze briefly shifting to Habib, who still stood quietly, his presence almost ethereal. Maha was right. If those eyes alone held such depth and softness, then his face… You couldn’t help but feel a quiet curiosity bloom within you, wondering what beauty lay beneath the mask. Yet, it wasn’t a thought born of desire--no it was reverent. There was a satisfaction in knowing that Habib remained untouched by the eyes of envy or malice.

"I--thank you, ma’am. But, please, if you still want--"

"It’s fine." You smiled, your voice gentle. "I’ll just take those chips instead. Thank you."

Before leaving, your eyes found Habib’s one last time. For a brief second, he looked back, those soulful eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability that touched something deep inside you. And then, just like that, the moment passed. Something stirred in your chest as you made your way back to the car.

His demeanor, though shy and reserved, had an innate warmth that contrasted starkly with the pain you suspected he might have endured. Habib's eyes, so expressive despite their attempt to hide behind the mask of modesty, spoke volumes. How could anyone ever think to harm such a gentle, innocent soul? His kindness made him so pure, yet so brave in his quiet way. Your heart ached at the thought of someone cruel, someone arrogant, standing where you were now. If they had received the same refusal, what might they have done to him and his father?

Part III

(AN: I cried writing this due to the unspoken romance which is more to come and I just wanna give the biggest hug to Habib so bad 😭)

[gay-dorito-dust]

Adam had never known someone to have unwavering patience like you had.

No question or inquiry Adam had was deemed too absurd nor too dumb for you to answer whilst also giving him the room for him to come up with his own verdicts based on his personal experiences.

However there was something that still eludes the seemingly perfect being and that happened to be the emotions he felt within your presence that only seemed to linger long after you were out of his sight; Which in due to his need to look out and protect you from practically everything he deemed a threat, was almost nigh impossible.

Adam wasn’t exactly certain what they meant in the grander scheme of things but in those moment where it’s just you and him, he couldn’t help but put all his focus on how you made him feel and it was confusing in the most beautiful way. You took up a majority of his thoughts that throughout the day Adam would wonder what you were doing, where you were and if you were okay, if you were with anyone and finally Adam would wonder if there was a slight possibility that you were thinking about him also.

Sure, it may sound childish of him to wish that you were, but to Adam it would only further prove that you may be fated to one another. The thought of that being the case brought a weird warm sensation that of which spread throughout his body as he rested his hand against his chest, while he looked down at it with the expression of a confused child; Adam was in dire need of your wisdom but unfortunately by the time he came to you for it, you were more then just about ready to hit the hay.

‘Y/n, I apologise for the intrusion but I have an serious matter I wish to discuss with you that can not wait, if you’ll be so kind as to hear me out.’ You sighed, really wanting nothing more then to go to sleep but but considering the look upon his handsome face, you made an exception. You sat on the edge of your bed, gesturing him to take a seat beside you, which Adam did post haste, remembering to leave some room between you both. ‘What’s up Adam, what did you want to discuss?’ You asked.

‘How do you know when you feel something so strongly for someone that they just take over your every thought and what is is called because I’ve been feeling this way for a while now and I’m at a loss as to what to make of it all.’ Adam says, looking at you expectedly like he always did; He was always one to value knowledge above all things, seeing as he was already quite powerful. Yet you couldn’t help but wonder whether or not you had something to do with these feelings he’s been feeling so strongly lately; Considering you were practically the only person he’s been within the company of, to the point where it has became a running gag amongst your friends that where’d you went, Adam wasn’t too far behind like a lost duckling.

‘What is it that you feel Adam, is it a good feeling or a bad feeling that you have about this person?’ You asked.

‘They’re on my mind as though my mind was built with the sole purpose of thinking of them and only them,’ Adam begins but as he does so, a smile stretched across his lips as a soft expression permeates his face. ‘From the light of the morning to nightfall, I’m wondering where they are, worried if they were in need of me but I just can’t hear them, can’t be there with them when they need me most, and mostly…I wonder if they think about me as much as I think about them because they are very special to me…so much so that I couldn’t fathom existing without them.’ Adam finishes before placing his hand over your own. ‘You are very special to me y/n. You’re the one I think about.’

Having already expected this being the case, you still were somehow taken aback but that was short lived compared to the overwhelming relief that your feelings weren’t as one sided as you assumed. You smiled softly at Adam before intertwining your fingers with his, grasping into him tightly, as though afraid of letting him go now that you got him. ‘You’re feeling love Adam.’ You explained. ‘And love is the most powerful, most important feeling you could ever feel because it comes in all forms, all of which are just as equally powerful as the last. It’s an all consuming feeling that can make one act upon irrational but sometimes acting upon that irrationality does one good but at the end of the day, love is a power that has yet to meet it’s match.’ You finalised, hoping to have gotten the point across clear enough for him to understand.

Adam made a face and sat in silence for a few minutes and once those minutes were up, the smile and soft expression came back as he once again looked at you as though he could see all of you. ‘Does this feeling mean that I am in love with you?’ He asks. ‘And do you feel the same way?’ He adds on almost hopefully that you couldn’t help but chuckle before leaning in to press an innocent kiss to his golden cheek. ‘Was that enough confirmation?’ You inquired as you watched Adam blink twice as he raised a hand to touch the cheek you just kissed.

‘It’s more then enough.’ He tells you. ‘Thank you.’

[aaronyoghurt]

"Smash or Pass"

Chrollo x Reader

Was supposed to be a short drabble but I got carried away. help me.

3am inspiration and word vomit are truly an astounding combo

Reader being bold and sassy

Bit suggestive at the end so be aware

Chrollo and you being dorks honestly

I cba with a summary rn so read and find out 😇

Enjoy...

(around 1.8k words)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Relaxing at home in the quietude of a pleasant evening, unbothered by outside influences, is the perfect setting in your mind. Your boyfriend is casually reclining on the couch reading, presumably some heavy historical tome that only he seems to willingly indulge in, compared to any normal human being, and is quietly scanning the archaic yellowed pages, absorbing their contents.

Normally, you’d choose to lay your head on his lap, maybe asking him to read to you, or simply choosing to read something yourself within his vicinity, if not already occupying yourself with any other activity. But by looking at the ostensibly heavy text and the words you glimpsed at earlier within that ancient volume of his, you weren’t particularly keen to participate in this session today.

That is why you were currently standing in the kitchen, leaning your elbows against the marble counter with your upper body languidly pushed forward and scrolling through the contents of your phone gallery. A cup of tea steaming at your side. That is when a mischievous thought etched its’ way into your mind, causing a sly grin to stretch your lips. Perhaps a bit bold to be put into execution, nevertheless, the potential entertainment of changing the evening’s atmosphere outweighed the silliness of it.

Hence, you rigidly straightened your posture while pushing away from the counter. With the phone in your hand, you happily sauntered over to where the unaware Chrollo is sitting on the couch, nose in his book.

You effortlessly hop over the back rest of the couch and with one fluid motion you are sitting next to Chrollo, thigh to thigh. As expected, this abrupt action of yours doesn’t necessarily instill much of a reaction out of him, besides a brief sideways glance in your direction with connotations of inquiry.

Before he manages to get any words out and ask about this ordeal, you beat him to the punch and thrust your phone screen right before his book before voicing your following question; “Smash or pass? Chrollo.” You say with a small grin dancing at the edges of your mouth.

Chrollo pauses, eyes cast down at your phone screen with a picture of a random female celebrity (leaving it up to you to decide lol) that is blocking his view from his previous investment in the book. He quickly glances up, turning his head to look at you, and his expression of utter surprise and bafflement is absolutely priceless.

There is typically little to nothing that gets the infamous Chrollo Lucilfer startled. Perhaps such instances are never even brought to occurrence that could cause his mind to do a double take on a situation. However, you seem to be the only one able to catch him off guard with your random quips or remarks. On some occasions at least. You consider the satisfaction of seeing Chrollo’s brief but still perceptible moments of confusion a big win on your side.

Meanwhile, Chrollo’s big grey eyes are staring at you in question, almost like a deer in headlights, frozen and devoid of any motion. You find that expression of his rather endearing and cute. Eventually, he gathers himself almost just as quickly and releases a small breath of amusement and perhaps still a bit of disbelief. “Pardon?” He asks just in case he misheard your bold and spontaneous question while quirking a dark brow slightly upwards.

You simply grin back in response and reaffirm your previous statement while gesturing your phone for emphasis, “You heard me, would you smash or pass this female if given the option?” Chrollo simply blinks at you while his mind flips through all the possible reasoning as to why you would ask such a question. He once again glances down at the image displayed on your phone and then back up to regard your sly yet innocent face.

“I am assuming this is a hypothetical based question. Although, not the most logical…”, the corner of his lips curling upwards slightly as his brows raise with riddled mirth and suspicion at your antics. He can’t help but find this established predicament quite endearing and funny. You simply cross your legs, one over the other, and stay firm in your pursuit of an answer.

“Just answer the question, Chrollo. It is of very strategic importance and you mustn’t evade it. I want an answer.” You continue and give him a toothy vehement smile. Chrollo merely sighs and slides his palm under your hand that holds your phone to bring it closer to his view and assess the given celebrity.

After a few seconds of palpable silence, you await his response with baited breath and eyes glued to his side profile to gauge his reaction, until he finally utters his answer, “…Smash.” His answer causes your eyes to squint in dissatisfaction before defeatedly closing them for a brief moment. You turn your phone off, quietly and slowly setting it on the coffee table before you as Chrollo watches your every move carefully.

Still remaining deathly silent, you gently grab the pillow on your other side and fling it with a forceful swing, smashing it against his broad chest. “Wrong!” you exclaim in a passionate sing-song manner. The impact of your swing doesn’t even move Chrollo in the slightest, nor causes him any actual harm. He could have definitely evaded your vicious attack, even in his sleep, but he chose to be kind. His eyes widen to the tiniest degree and he merely smirks at your ferocious yet poorly executed attempt at his life.

“Oh? Why, darling? I answered your question, didn’t I? There’s no need to get so worked up over simply following the rules of your little game.” He chuckles to himself briefly and closes his ridiculously large book that was delicately resting on his lap and placing it beside your phone on the coffee table.

You shake your head slowly in disapproval and click your tongue to highlight how obviously wrong he was in his deduction. “As someone who is a renowned and calculating strategist, your skills in the department of the ‘smash or pass’ game are severely lacking. You disappoint me. Truly. I am now offended.”

Chrollo raises his brow once again and with a knowing grin, he responds, “Whatever do you mean, love? I believe that when given two set and obvious choices presented to me, I am obliged to pick either or. Am I not correct?”

You keep up the playful façade of being disappointed and crestfallen as you shake your head slowly, “You have failed me, Chrollo…you have failed me…” You place your hands on his shoulders and shake him slightly while you gaze into his eyes with your own narrowed gaze and forced smile. “Ah, but you see, my dear Chrollo, sometimes when that is the case, and you are presented with two choices, you are only given the illusion of choice. Because in truth, there are always more choices available…” You then press your pointer finger against the cross tattoo adorning his forehead and jab it lightly once.

“That is why you have to think outside the box!” you accentuate the weight of your statement with another small jab of your finger against his forehead, this time a tad bit more forcefully. He lightly tips his head backwards at the pressure while still looking at you with amusement and a light smirk.

“I see someone has been reading my books about The Paradox of Choice, hm? Well aren’t you a smart little thing.” He coos appraisingly and brings his hand up to hold your cheek, brushing his thumb lightly against the soft skin.

“Tch, so what if I have? You’re straying away from the issue at hand.” You inform him as you maintain eye contact with your boyfriend. “The correct answer was supposed to be ‘pass’ and that you would rather smash me, since I am obviously the only one you would rather have. Thank you.”

Chrollo simply looks at you with that persistent calmness and enigmatic smile. His eyes glowing with entertainment and thrill as if he were dissecting the most intricate passages of text. But this time however, he is simply enjoying you and the spectacle before him.

He lets out a breathy laugh at your decisive comments as you point out how he should have presented his answer. Though unbeknownst to you, he deliberately chose ‘smash’ just so he could tease you and watch your cute reactions. And boy did he get a kick out of it.

“Is that so? I wouldn’t be that sure…your selected option for me seemed quite appealing.” Chrollo articulates his reasoning in a poised and nonchalant manner as his grey eyes sparkle with an undertone of slyness. For you, this was the final hammer on the nail and you scoff in evident annoyance while trying to feign passiveness.

“You’re awful. I will be breaking up with you.” You say with scorn and start to rise from the couch before you might actually start throwing hands out of spite and your dissatisfaction with how this seemingly innocent game turned on you.

Before you manage to fully stand up, Chrollo’s hand gently wraps around your wrist and with one swift motion, he efficiently and smoothly tugs you back down towards him and settles you on his lap. You let out a small gasp of surprise and stare at him while he simply offers a rueful smile.

“Now, now don’t get too hasty, my love. You might actually hurt my feelings with your empty threats.” His other hand that wasn’t holding your waist slithers itself onto your thigh, gently squeezing it. Your previously curated irritation and mild jealousy seem to instantaneously dissipate at the notion as you continue to stare into his dark gaze which seems to be more softened and complacent.

“As much as I love to see you becoming agitated and pretending to be unaffected, you should really consider your moves carefully when playing such games with me.” Chrollo’s mild grin persists as he says this. You are about to argue back with a riposte, when suddenly he shifts your position and you find yourself underneath him on the couch while he hovers on top of you.

You gape up at him with parted lips and widened eyes as he leans his face closer to yours and continues to speak in a cool and velvet smooth voice, “You should know by now that you’re the only woman I am crazy about, and not even some top notch celebrity could ever get me as enchanted as you do.”

By now your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at your childish presumptions. How could you ever believe he’d choose someone else over you? Of course he was just teasing you the whole time. The sly bastard. Now, as your eyes meet his steady gaze, you can see the unquestionable truth.

Chrollo smiles gently down at you, before his eyes quickly shift into a devious glint. “The only thing you should know, sweetheart…”, he whispers smoothly as his lips brush your soft cheek as he speaks. He drags his lips to the edge of your jaw and then up to the area of your neck just below your ear. His tone dropping an octave as he breathes salaciously, “…I will never pass up the opportunity to smash you…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finished this fanfic up instead of doing my 4 page essay due tomorrow. I am cooked.

[decepti-thots]

Sometimes I have to remind myself that a lot of people in fact have not read/skipped the prose stories in IDW, so for what it's worth, I think any discussion of pre-Overlord Drift-Rodimus dynamics needs to consider this specific scene from the post-RiL one. I am passionate enough about this I'm putting it below the cut, though I have the whole story hosted here btw. It establishes a few really important things, IMO:

What I just discussed regarding Rodimus having voluntarily brought Overlord onto the ship, against Drift's wishes

Him attempting to prevent Drift from taking the fall because he knows it's his fault, and Drift being the one to tell him no about this

The revelation Drift was keeping his motivation for putting Rodimus in charge a secret from Rodimus, which he only explains before leaving

Drift being clear he did not take the fall to help Rodimus per se, but because he considers it the necessary thing to do as per his vision, which is ultimately the most important thing to him period

That's a LOT of stuff without which the dynamic does not read at all the same way going forward, IMO. Basically any discussion of those two in s1 should really take it into consideration in terms of both sides' motivations, especially regarding Drift's motivations in keeping Rodimus content and in charge no matter what he said or did, and Rodimus' relative ignorance of said motivations.

****

As Rodimus stepped into his office he shielded his eyes—literally put his hand to his face—to avoid catching sight of the flames he’d had painted around the doorframe. As soon as he’d sorted out the current mess he’d ask Atomizer to help him redecorate. No more fire-rimmed entrances, garish pink walls or self-aggrandizing plaques: just a desk, a chair, some subdued lighting and a memorial to crewmembers killed by sparkeater, Legislator, or Overlord.

Overlord.

When his guard was down—when he wasn’t showing off or doodling or spray-painting—the name made him think of the people who had died or lost loved ones because he’d been too scared to say no to Prowl. Overlord made him think of Pipes and Rewind and Chromedome and Lockstock and Lancet, but one face—Drift’s face—kept crowding out all the others. It had been here, in his office, that they’d had their last proper conversation.

“An inquiry?” Drift stood in the doorway, looking incredulous. “An inquiry?”

Rodimus dragged him inside and locked the door. “I had to do something! People were asking questions! And what do you do if you want to stall things? You launch an inquiry.” He slumped into his chair. “An inquiry into something I’m responsible for. Oh god. Oh god, I feel sick. I’ve messed up big time.”

“I can sort this out, Rodimus. Honestly, I can fix this.”

“This is my fault, not yours. We were standing in Prowl’s office, and he was trying to convince me that bringing Overlord onboard was ‘right and proper’, and you called me an idiot for even considering it.”

“Was I that blunt?”

“I don’t know why he even let you in on those discussions in the first place. It’s not like he trusts you.”

“I’ll tell you exactly why he wanted me there: it was in case something like this happened. Need a scapegoat? Get an ex-Decepticon.”

“Well it’s not gonna happen. I’m taking the fall for this one. Your name doesn’t have to come into it. It’s taken you years to win back people’s trust, and you’re not throwing it all away on my behalf.”

“Rodimus, if you tell the crew what you’ve done, then that’s it. The quest’s over. We’ll never find the Knights.”

“No, it just means someone else will take over. You, maybe? Ratchet? I dunno. Someone.”

“But someone doesn’t take over!” Rodimus looked up sharply. “’Doesn’t’?”

“Won’t.”

“You said ‘doesn’t.’ What d’you mean, ‘doesn’t’?”

“It’s hard to explain what I mean.” Drift unclipped his Great Sword and placed it on the desk. “You remember when I nearly died, back on Cybertron? I was within feet of Vector Sigma.”

“Yes…” said Rodimus slowly, unsure where this was going.

“When I put this sword through my spark, I saw something.”

“What, like a vision?”

“Kind of. More a sense of how things would play out. It was abstract and it was fleeting, and every time I call it to mind it becomes harder to interpret, but something is around the corner, Rodimus—and a year from now, or 50 years from now, that something will arrive, and we won’t be able to stop it unless we find the Knights. And I don’t care if you think, ‘Oh, that’s just Drift being Drift,’ because I’m convinced that you need to remain in charge. People can come and go—they can die—but you have to be here, otherwise we will fail. And so the simple solution—the only solution—is that I take the blame for this.”

“I won’t let you do this for me.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for everyone else.”

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Civil Unrest

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

History books often talk about important events through the eyes of those with hindsight. Written in ways that make readers question how the people who actually lived through the events themselves ask how they could not have seen it coming from a mile away.

Yet for those who lived through such trying times the sequence of events were never so neat and orderly as “Point A” and “Point B”. They came on like a silent wave that could not be heard until it crashed against the foundation of society and tore everything it struck down into the dirt.

One such point of history was the day the Pentarki people experienced their first case of civil unrest.

For context in Pentarki society when a judicial ruling is handed down it could not be altered. There were no challenges, no reviews of inquiry, or appeal process to a higher form of political body for a different ruling. The end result was set in stone and there would be no argument. While strange to other space traveling societies who had several checks and balances for Pentarki it made complete sense.

To obtain a position in the judicial branches of society a Pentarki needed to be highly intelligent, well versed in social laws and history, and have some aspect of a moral code. It was through these foundation blocks that a near incorruptible governing body was created to hand out rulings for criminal cases.

The Pentarki had spent generations under this type of organization and whole heartedly believed that the process was secure; never questioning a ruling or lashing out in outrage.

That was until the day humans began migrating to their world.

Being one of the most adaptable species in the known universe, humans had a knack for setting up shop on just about any planet they came into contact with. On the Pentarki homeworld they found that despite the lethal levels of gases encircling the planet it was on average warmer than any other planet resulting in a steady stream of humans in search of said warmth.

Humans in contrast to Pentarki’s had a very different perspective of organized governing. They believed that laws and people could make mistakes and if needed, could be altered to reflect the current nature of the times. This alone was enough to ensure the Pentarki avoided dealings with humans as much as possible; at least until the “Night of ten thousand Fists.”

In a standard ruling, the governing body decided in the case of a little Pentarki child getting injured by a Pentarki enforcement officer that the officer was not at fault. Situations like this were rare but not unheard of and the enforcement officers were almost never marked for fault. While the Pentarki people had expected as much, they had not taken into account the overly passionate nature of the new human citizens who had moved to the planet.

Within hours of the ruling there were large scale protests in the streets, primarily composed of humans. They held signs and chanted dissenting slogans against the governing body that made the ruling. Enforcement officers were dispatched to try and contain the protests, but their presence only seemed to further enflamed the protestor’s anger. Pentarki enforcement officers were not trained for this type of civil disturbance as protests were all but unheard of in their culture. In an attempt to disperse the crowd the officers attempted to arrest the ringleaders who were using megaphones to rile the crowds. This backfired as the humans became further violent and began attacking the enforcers. They swarmed them from all sides and the officers were quickly consumed by a tide of human bodies.

From there things devolved rapidly as the protests turned into full blown riots. Any symbol of authority was defaced or destroyed while enforcing officers were targeted on site. Store fronts were destroyed, monuments defaced, and public destruction in general skyrocketed as several cities became consumed by anarchy. It took a full fifteen hours before order was finally restored and only then as a once in a lifetime reversal of the ruling was issued.

This action shook the Pentarki society to its core. Through open violence a ruling had been changed for the first time in their people’s history. There was open resentment towards the humans who many viewed as shoehorning their own beliefs into society, but there was also a newfound sense of disappointment of the ruling body as they were now seen as not as stalwart as they once were.

From that moment onwards many worlds were far more hesitant with allowing humans to settle on them in great numbers.

[im-probably-crying-rn-ngl]

fuck it, book recommendations based on your favourite driver

+ age rating, summary and rambling disguised as explanation as to why

if your favourite driver is Lewis Hamilton...then i would recommend Carrie Soto is Back by Taylor Jenkins Reid

(historical sports fiction, standalone) "Carrie Soto, a fierce and determined retired tennis champion, comes out of retirement at thirty-seven to reclaim her record and face personal challenges, coached by her father partnered with the man she almost opened her heart to, in Taylor Jenkins Reid's novel about the cost of greatness and a legendary athlete's epic comeback."

the connection between this book and lewis is what inspired this whole post in the first place. a comeback story even if you have proven all there is to be proven? trying to beat all the odds against you even time? being an all-time champion AND an underdog? there are so many links that can be made between carrie and lewis not just with their careers and relationships but also what adversities they have had to face. idk but is this like manifesting that lewis is going to be "back" for his 8th wdc?

if your favourite driver is George Russell...then i would recommend A Good Girl's Guide to Murder by Holly Jackson

(young adult mystery thriller, book 1 of 3) "In 'A Good Girl's Guide to Murder,' Pippa Fitz-Amobi reexamines a closed case, challenging the conviction of Sal Singh for Andie Bell's murder, unearthing hidden secrets that threaten her safety as she seeks the elusive truth."

ah mr wannabe investigator (we all saw him checking out that redbull) but seriously there's something we grussell sprouts must enjoy about someone who seems so straight-laced and uptight be absolutely blatantly unhinged both on and off track. it's just so george to choose literal murder inquiry as a school project, from the ambition bordering on arrogance of believing a high schooler could do what the authorities couldn't to the genuine heartfelt sincerity in wanting the truth and to bring justice for those already deemed outcasts by society. he's OUR good girl that's not-so-secretly "bad".

(main ship are george and alex coded btw like im just saying)

(+ bonus rec bc i am incredibly biased) if your favourite team is Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 Team (had to google the name for the nth time)...then i would recommend The Green Bone Saga by Fonda Lee

(adult fantasy, trilogy, best books i have ever read) "The Green Bone Saga is a fantasy trilogy by Fonda Lee, exploring the intricate power struggles and conflicts within and around the Kaul family. Set in the fictional city of Janloon with ability-enhancing jade as it's lifeblood."

my faves with my faves. mercedes aren't a national institution/emotion (ferrari), a team (red bull racing), a villains' lair (ashton martin) or a pop band (mclaren) but a family. a dysfunctional, awkward, barely concealed hot mess of a family, but family nonetheless. chasing victory while trying to survive the horrors of life and each other is the merc way and you will see the same in this trilogy. *toto voice* loyalty!

family is duty. magic is power. honor is everything. <- literally them

if your favourite driver is Oscar Piastri...then i would recommend The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan

(young adult fantasy, book 1 of 5) "In 'The Lightning Thief' by Rick Riordan, seemingly troubled teenager Percy Jackson discovers his divine lineage as a demigod, embarks on a perilous quest with his friends to prevent a war among the gods."

wow guys i don't know what to tell you except oscar JACK piastri, SON of nicole and chris piastri, might literally be percy JACKSON (i have connected the dots, you haven't connected shit). your guy might have had a former illustrious career in undertaking dangerous quests and asking greek gods to pay child support, you should check.

if your favourite driver is Lando Norris...then i would recommend Magnolia Parks by Jessa Hastings

(adult contemporary romance, check tws, book 1 of an ongoing series) "In 'Magnolia Parks' by Jessa Hastings, a tumultuous love story unfolds between the beautiful and self-involved London socialite Magnolia Parks and Britain's notorious bad-boy BJ Ballentine, as they grapple with a dysfunctional relationship marked by heartbreak, secrets, and the enduring pull they feel towards each other."

picked this based on vibes, just pure vibes but immaculate ones. the drama, the glitz, the glam yes but also the family, friendship, and love found within the pages of this series. this is british gossip girl. i am telling you there is a vision here people.

(+ bonus review because this might be the only book on this list that has less (3.84) than 4+ stars on goodreads and i can't do him and y'all dirty like that: i personally didn't love the first book but the series really comes together and you truly get invested in these characters and their happiness, actually pretty excited to read more.

also if nothing else it's fun, just some brain popcorn)

if your favourite driver is Carlos Sainz...then i would recommend The Wrath and the Dawn by Renée Ahdieh

(young adult romance fantasy, check tws, book 1 of 2) "In a land ruled by a murderous boy-king, Shahrzad vows vengeance for her friend's death and becomes the next bride of the tormented Caliph Khalid, discovering unexpected love as she navigates the perilous palace of secrets and stories, torn between survival and the promise of retribution."

wow like you think he didn't step out of a magical retelling of 1001 nights? mhm but let's leave aside the fact i am still not convinced otherwise. carlos this year has shown his insane mega ultra galaxy brain, so i believe the plot of the wrath & the dawn would be something that would resonate with you. the quick wit and guile of the mc as she tries to carry out a revenge plot while trying to not get executed is only comparable to carlos coming up with his own race strategy mid race and cementing himself as the only non-rbr race winner in 2023. wow.

if your favourite driver is Charles Leclerc...then i would recommend The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

(historical romance fantasy, standalone) "The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller is an Iliad retelling, focusing on the deep and complex relationship between Achilles and Patroclus."

he has that sadness in his eyes that you only see in tragic greek myths etc etc. i will have to say, achilles walked so charles leclerc could race. *soft longing sigh* il predestinato and aristos achaion, the predestined and the best of the greeks. beloveds born and bathed in golden light. it just makes sense to me.

if your favourite driver is Alex Albon...then i would recommend Beach Read by Emily Henry

(adult contemporary romance, standalone) "A romance writer who no longer believes in love and a literary writer stuck in a rut engage in a summer-long challenge that may just upend everything they believe about happily ever afters."

i mean alex is a living-breathing romance novel of a man. BUT it hasn't always been sunshine and rainbows (helmut marko if i catch you). so i think any emily henry book but especially beach read captures the ups and downs of alex's journey so well compared to just any ole romcom (...but if i had to give one for the alex enjoyers then it would be Better Than the Movies by Lynn Painter, coincidentally also george and alex coded lmao).

but was it his remarkable drive back to f1 or the recent holiday beach pics that was the reason behind this rec? i guess we will never know

if your favourite driver is Logan Sargeant...then i would recommend Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones

(young adult fantasy, book 1 of 3)"In 'Howl's Moving Castle' by Diana Wynne Jones, eldest daughter Sophie is cursed to age prematurely, the key to break the spell lies in the enigmatic Wizard Howl's castle. Sophie embarks on a quest to confront the Witch who cursed her all the while unraveling hidden truths about herself and Howl."

"let's bring it in and call it a day - let's look after of you." to "that's my girl" pipeline and vice versa. i know what you are.

but logang (the only one i know frfr) you deserve it okay? a cozy lil fantasy full of whimsy and wonder. tuck in and have some tea and cookies, pookies.

(i wanted to do the full grid but keep the teammates together and i haven't yet come up with something for all of em so there will be a part 2...? hopefully...?)

sources for summaries: thestorygraph and goodreads

[detectivewoof-a]

Liam is certain he can't embarress Manny, so why try? What he can do, however, is walk around his apartment in nothing but one of Manny's button ups while preparing cafecito for him. (hark, a flustering!) || @arsenicflavouredtea

It’s not polite to stare. It’s not polite to stare. It’s--alright, he’s staring just a bit and it was most definitely because he might have forgotten that he offered for Liam to stay the night and nothing more than that. Yep, he’s definitely not thinking too hard about this. 

“Mierda...” Probably also best he doesn’t think about what this implies about the current dating scene or he’ll definitely think himself into a circle. A quick cough, at least so Manny could indicate that his presence most definitely was in the kitchen. “Mugs are in the cupboard by your head.” 

And yes, he was also biting back a dry joke about specifying which head.  

[sungbeam]

BIRD HUNT — teaser

nonidol!choi line x f!reader

gotham city is a gutter running rampant with the ill, corrupt, and the insane. at times, justice and vengeance must be served by one's own hand... no matter the lengths one must go to do so.

▷ genre, teaser warnings. bat family au, vigilantes au, murder mystery au, action, suspense, humor, swearing, mentions of dead bodies, murder, grief, corruption

▷ taglist. open

▷ first ep drop. feb 2nd?, pst (or earlier if i somehow get more writing done)

series masterlist

TEASER BELOW THE CUT (APPROX. 800 WORDS)

"How do you know Ln Yn?"

Beomgyu whirled around just as Soobin settled into the desk chair, waiting. Beomgyu made a scoffing noise, eyebrows flying up to his shaggy bangs. "Where did that come from?"

Soobin shrugged. "You tell me." He slurped up a bit more milk from his cereal before adding, "You're the one who reacted like that in front of everyone when she said she was grieving her mother's death. You sounded shocked that she died."

"Well yeah, wouldn't you be shocked to hear someone else died within the past three days?"

"Stop trying to bullshit him, Gyu."

Both the brothers looked up at the voice who had just entered the underground space. Yeonjun strolled into the main area in a white tank top and sweats, hair sticking up in different places. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned loud and wide.

Soobin cocked a brow at him. "Nice of you to finally join us, hyung. How'd the 'date' go?"

"Great," Yeonjun quipped. "We're going on a second one soon. I think Felix almost sent me off with a kiss goodnight." He slumped onto the edge of the desk, eyes lazily taking in the images and information displayed on the many monitor screens. "This is our stiff, huh?"

Soobin sent him a look that distinctly read 'No, we're just looking at dead bodies for fun.'

"Yeah," Beomgyu replied. "The note the killer left is so familiar to me though. Have you seen it before?" He knocked his knuckles against the monitor with the note.

Yeonjun's eyes narrowed on the screen, before he leaned back with that bored look renewed on his face. "You're both idiots. It's from that one killing a couple weeks ago."

Beomgyu and Soobin traded looks. "What?"

Their eldest brother leaned down to reach the lowest drawer at the desk. From its depths, he fished out a large bag of chips and grabbed a handful to stuff his face with. "Y'know," he garbled and gestured vaguely with his crumb-dusted fingers. "Beomgyu, you know! You were there with me. It was that one lawyer guy who was found dead in his car beneath the bridge. That same note was taped to his windshield."

"Oh yeah," Beomgyu drawled, while Soobin shook his head with a sigh. The former then knocked his foot against the latter's shin. "Aye! You didn't even know it."

"Yeah, because I wasn't on that case," Soobin fired back. He finished off the rest of his bowl of cereal and set the empty ceramic in his lap before crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes, like his brothers', were lined beneath with heavy eye bags. Someone was supposed to be on patrol around the city right now, but neither of the three brothers were in any rush to get up. "So it's just one person going after these people then."

Yeonjun chewed his bottom lip. "Then we just gotta find the connection."

"Was the lawyer guy from a couple weeks ago Lee Sungjae's attorney?" Soobin asked.

Beomgyu grabbed a hold of the wireless keyboard on the desk and braced it upon his thighs. He pulled up an internet browser and typed in their inquiry. All three brothers made noises of disgruntlement; if the lawyer hadn't been Sungjae's attorney, then how were they connected? It was no secret that 99.9 percent of the population here in Gotham had some sort of shadow looming over their shoulder. It was almost impossible to get anywhere without the help of a corrupt figure, whether that be a mob boss like the Penguin or a loan shark with special strategies to get someone to pay up.

Either way, there would be lots of digging required.

"Let's start with Lee Sungjae and the lawyer's records,'' Soobin decided as he sat up in the chair. "We'll sort through phone records, acquire security footage of their movements, their texts, etcetera."

"I call none of those," Yeonjun said. When his younger brothers scowled at him, he raised both hands in feigned surrender with a giggle. "Fine, fine. You're both lookin' at me like I murdered your favorite puppy."

They remained silent.

"What, too soon?"

The basement headquarters suddenly erupted in a dull siren sound, and Beomgyu was swift to pull up a set of footage on one of the monitors. It displayed a section of the sky, a white spotlight circle cast against a massive, dark gray cumulus cloud with a distinct bat shape in the center—their call to action.

All three men were on their feet in an instant—keyboard and cereal bowl abandoned on the table, capes and utility belts clicked into place.

"Meet you losers there!" Yeonjun hollered as the cave filled with the revving roar of his motorcycle engine like a clap of thunder.

Soobin and Beomgyu hurried over to their respective cycles. "Hey, we're not done talking about Yn!" Soobin called to his younger brother.

Beomgyu flashed him a thin smile. "That's what you think!" And he sped away down the runway.

Soobin chuckled to himself, grinning. Then he revved his engine and launched himself after his brothers.

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[hyakinthou-naos]

So, I’m not sure I’ll explain myself well, but I when I go buy stuff for my altar, I tend to buy some stuff that doesn’t have any sort of relation with the deity, for example, my hades altar has lots of mushroom things, my Hermes altar has little random statues, etc. I kinda feel bad for having that stuff there

Khaire Anon,

I want to start off by saying I think you explained yourself very well!

As to your altar items - just because an item or object might not have historically been associated with a deity does not mean that you cannot use said item/object. You can (and should) develop personal associations in relation to your Gods.

Also, when I read your ask, I immediately thought that both of the items mentioned actually fit with their respective deities very well.

Mushrooms are associated with death, decay, and the breaking down of matter. With Lord Hades being King of the Underworld - I think the mushrooms are very fitting.

In regards to Lord Hermes, he is actually associated with statues and sculptures in a much more personal way then most of the other deities in the pantheon. You may or may not be aware of Hermai but I would encourage you to research them and their history. In either case, I think random statues make perfect sense for his altar!

A lot of Hellenic Polytheists focus on being strictly reconstructionist when it comes to their religious practices (meaning they try to be as accurate to historical practices as possible).

On the other hand, I and many other Hellenic Polytheists focus on being Revivalists - meaning we try to be accurate to the historical records but also allow for more individuality and wiggle room within personal practice.

(I don't know much about the author - but I did find this wordpress article that describes the difference pretty well)

I hope you found my answer helpful, please don't hesitate to reach out in the future if you have more inquiries :)

Eirene - peace and farewell,

- Aön

[elumish]

Writing a Professional Email

I work in client services, which means that a frankly depressing amount of my job is writing emails, both for myself and for other people. There is an art and a science to writing professional emails.

The subject line

The subject line should be informative enough that somebody scanning through their inbox can tell what the email is about and whether they need to look at it any time soon. Depending on their job, some people get hundreds or thousands of emails a day, and they need to be able to tell at a glance whether an email is important to them.

When emailing someone particularly at another organization with a question, I will often use "Inquiry" or "Question" in the subject line. depending on industry standards, you may also use something like RFI (request for information).

If you want to be clear on why exactly you're sending an email, it is the standard in some industries to start your email with For Action: or For [Reason]: (e.g., For Review:, For Situational Awareness:). I generally only include that in emails staying within my organization, but depending on how well you know whoever you're emailing, you may or may not feel comfortable to do that outside of your organization.

You may not need to be that prescriptive in your email subject lines. if I'm emailing someone about tuition assistance, I might just use the subject "Tuition Assistance."

The salutation

How you address the person sets the tone of the entire email. A lot of this has to do with industry standards and the level of formality you're trying to convey.

At my organization, the explicitly-stated expectation is that you will address everyone, regardless of level, by their first name. If I got an email from someone at my organization referring to me by Ms. [Surname] I would be immediately confused and suspicious.

When emailing agents or addressing them in query letters, it seems like the expectation is often to use their first name--but you should always check, in case they specifically say they want to be referred to in some other way.

When emailing someone with an industry-specific title (professor, doctor, military or law enforcement) it's often your best bet to start with their title. You should make sure you know how to properly abbreviate them, if you do that--the same military rank, for example, is abbreviated differently depending on the service (e.g., Second Lieutenant is abbreviated 2LT, 2ndLt, and 2d Lt).

As you become closer to them, you may start to address them by their first name--but not necessarily.

Also some people/industries prefer "Hi" while others prefer "Dear". if you're really not sure, I've found that defaulting to "Good morning" or "Good afternoon" is often an easy workaround.

The body

Organize the body of the email so the most important information is clear, easy to find, and unambiguous. I frequently use bullets and/or tables in my emails. I also use strategic bolding and underlining, especially for due dates or specific asks.

If you don't know the person or they won't understand why you're the one emailing them about the thing, it can help to introduce yourself. If you're going to do so, keep it short and focus on the key info (e.g., "I am part of x team and am reaching out to you because of y").

If you think your email is too long, it probably is.

The closing

I recommend finding a closing that works for you and stick with it. What I see most commonly are Best, Regards, Best Regards, or Sincerely, but you have a good deal of flexibility here. (I use Regards.)

You should also consider whether to sign off with your first name, full name, or full name + title. I use first name because my signature has my full name.

The signature

Most (all?) email service providers let you set a default signature. My organization has a very prescriptive signature block, so for my work email I just use that.

If you don't have that, I recommend some version of

Full Name Organizational Title Organization

[theinnerunderrain]

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse [1/4]

Conquest [Ranger!Childe x Princess! Reader]

Warnings: Yandere themes, depiction of violence.

One may contend that the appearance of a bloodstained man standing at the edge of the tower's balcony was the very last thought on your mind. You spent over half of your life upon that tower, daydreaming of a knight in shining armour who would save you from your captors' cruelty and your days of loneliness, aching to see the life beyond the forest and to see your family. A remarkable man with piercing blue eyes, a voice sweet enough to entice songbirds, and a smile that could instantly brighten your day, that was the image of the knight in shining armour that you had waited for.

A man you could be eternally grateful to and who you would desire to marry if he were honourable enough to ask for your hand in marriage.

Yet you weren't certain whether you would regard the man in front of you as your hero in shining armour, a man to consider for marriage. Perhaps he would just request for materials rewards?

You had hope that was the case.

He simply exudes an unsettling air, something about him just seems different from the other men you had fair shares of interacting with.

While he was brilliant to a certain extent and his voice wasn't profound and threatening, his eyes were sinister and dark. They were seemingly soulless, and somehow brought to mind the dark sorcerer's crimson eyes that you had once witnessed as a child. His smile was endearing, but something wicked was hidden behind it, and the blood that was trickling down his cheeks didn't help either. If one hadn't looked closely enough, they might have overlooked the dark stain within the fabric of his dark robes, which he was wearing, again breaking you out of your delusion of a knight in shining armour.

He bore a bow and arrows instead of a broad sword that was fastened to his belt, and they were so heavily bloodied that you started to wonder if he was the source of the screams that had previously resounded throughout the forest.

"My lady."

He spoke while crouching on one knee, his voice sounding slightly out of breath. He had one hand behind his back and the other extended towards you, encouraging you to embrace it. His fingers were encased in thick leather gloves, and you could see the tiny blotches of blood that had been splattered across them, leaving you to wonder from whom the blood had come from despite having an answer to your inquiry. Your breathing quickened as you strained to compose your thoughts and attempted to block out the nauseating smell of blood as you cautiously approached him.

As you drew nearer to him, you could make out a clump of orange hair that was smeared across his head. They had a somewhat slick texture—possibly from his excursion to the tower—but they still had a delicate feel and reminded you of the sun illustrations you would find in textbooks.

The cold sensation of the slightly wet stain stroking against your skin made you grimace a bit as you cautiously placed your fingers on his palm. He gave your hand a slight squeeze, bringing your fingers up to his lips, and then tenderly caressed your knuckles with his warm lips.

"Mon chevalier."

"Childe is just fine, My Lady."

"Childe."

You murmured his name tentatively, your voice faltering slightly as you gazed at the man kneeling beneath you. His hand is still firmly clasped around yours as he peers up at you with expectation, his eyes once again bringing this unhinged feeling of fear to raise within your throat.

"The depth of my gratitude for you is beyond words. You saved my life, and I appreciate it."

You cautiously lowered yourself until your knees were in contact with the tower's cold cement floor as his smile appeared to grow at your remarks. As you were both standing at the same height, your eyes converged.

"My family and I will make sure that we grant your one cherished request as a means of expressing my gratitude."

You prayed to God that his desire would not be for marriage. To a certain extent, he gave off the impression of being a rather sweet man, but you could tell that he was not your typical man. Not from his appearance, attitude, or seeming lack of regret for his actions toward others.

As though his sole objective was to conquer everything around him.

"Your hand in marriage is what I am longing for, My Princess."

You reached out with a trembling hand to capture the edge of his cheeks before tilting in to give him a gentle kiss on the temple and brushing his soft ginger hair away from his forehead. Childe lets go of your other hand, allowing you to place your free hand on the opposite side of his face, just about holding his head within the grasp of your hands.

As you open your mouth to speak, you make every effort to prevent any sign of weakness from coming through in your voice. Although your efforts were futile.

"Your wish is my command."

Before stooping to rest your forehead against his, you murmured while tightly closing your eyes. You can feel his gloved fingers encircling yours and his smile contorting into a grin without having to look at him. His happiness practically glows off him much like a beam of light.

Childe was a man on a conquest.

Between his conquest yesterday and the brisk warm feeling of your fingers against his face, he felt on top of the world.

You are his conquest.

He has put too much effort into winning you, and he won't let anyone sever his relationship with you.

Ever.

[llyfrenfys]

i must admit i know nothing of welsh history or language. im reclaiming learning the irish language bc i know the history of it and bc i think it's essential to protect native languages of various places. but as someone who doesn't know welsh history, i see "its not like welsh people were beaten for speaking it" and i recoil in a sense of distaste. because while i may not know the history, i very much doubt no one ever in the world has been beaten for speaking welsh, that's a pretty huge assumption to make even if a language isn't being legally oppressed (assuming thats what op really meant). but also, i just loathe the idea that only minority languages are worth saving or caring about if they're being beaten out of people. genocide happens in many ways and only some of them are actually active violence/assault, most are subversive, and purposefully so

idk if i should even be speaking on this bc i dont know the history of welsh but i feel like you literally dont need to know the history behind it to see something very wrong with "speakers of a minority language should shut up if they're not actively being killed for it"

Sorry I took so long in getting to this ask (post anon is referring to) but yeah- that post was gobsmacking to me as a Welsh speaker. I've studied language loss and revitalisation and I can name several endangered languages in which children (and adults) were beaten and abused for speaking their native tongue. For example, we covered the Tlingit language in Alaska (one of the few North American languages I've studied) which is subject to a revival- some Tlingit wanted to learn the language, while others (usually older people) had an aversion to the language. One man said that whenever he speaks Tlingit he can taste soap because he was punished as a boy for speaking Tlingit by having a bar of soap put in his mouth. Language loss via abuse is real and prevalent in many, many endangered languages. The audacity to assume Welsh is somehow immune to that was astounding.

But even if Welsh *was* immune to that somehow (it wasn't) you're right in that we should care about the decline of a language even if it doesn't involve overt suppression. More surreptitious kinds of linguistic genocide lie within the state apparatus. For example, when Wales was merged into the Kingdom of England (see: the Laws in Wales Acts 1535 and 1542) the language of the legal system in Wales was changed to English-only, depriving monolingual Welsh speakers (Welsh was spoken in pretty much every part of Wales at this point) of legal services. This meant that Welsh speakers were effectively pressured indirectly to learn English in order to have a chance at any legal services in court. Over time, the privileging of English over Welsh created a pressure to abandon Welsh in favour of English, because there were 'more opportunities' in English than in Welsh.

Similarly, the true Treachery of the Blue Books wasn't that the British Government in 1847 had ordered a review into Welsh schools and found that too many people were speaking Welsh- but that Welsh-speaking parents began to forbid their children from learning Welsh and supported the findings of the inquiry because they too had felt that pressure of English-language supremacy. Believing that there's more opportunities in English than in Welsh. It's an unfortunate legacy and attitude which still persists today- and none of the Commissioners of the Blue Book Inquiry shed any blood in doing so. But the impact was nonetheless dire. It's also a self-creating cycle: There are no opportunities in Welsh -> People learn English instead of Welsh for opportunities -> There's fewer Welsh speakers to create more opportunities in Welsh ->There are no opportunities in Welsh.

But yeah, I have no idea what the OP of that other post was thinking but it was offensively ignorant in any case. I'm glad though that Welsh's struggles are seen by others at least, in this day and age.