#i'd love to understand people who do this

[justjillnow]

I'm hearing people say that this puts it on the states now. But an informed and educated populace is everyone's responsibility, imo. We can't rely on individual states to make libraries, museums, and other cultural institutions a priority. Sad to say. I'd love it if we could. What will instead happen is small, rural, and tribal libraries will cease to be vibrant parts of their communities. These are the very communities who often need their libraries the most. And they need more than just a building with books. They need story times for children, they need help with technology, they need book clubs, etc. People need to understand that libraries are so much more than books. And we carefully spend every single penny that we get to make sure we are doing all we can for the communities we serve.

🔥 The beacons are lit; the library calls for aid

The Trump administration has issued an executive order aimed at dismantling the Institute of Museum and Library Services - the ONLY federal agency for America's libraries.

Using just 0.003% of the federal budget, the IMLS funds services at libraries across the country; services like Braille and talking books for the visually impaired, high-speed internet access, and early literacy programs.

Libraries are known for doing more with less, but even we can't work with nothing.

How You Can Help:

🔥 Call your congressperson!

Use the app of your choice or look 'em up here: https://www.congress.gov/members/find-your-member

Pro tip: If your phone anxiety is high, call at night and leave a voicemail. You can even write yourself a script in advance and read it off. Heck, read them this post if you want to.

Phones a total no-go? The American Library Association has a form for you: https://oneclickpolitics.global.ssl.fastly.net/messages/edit?promo_id=23577

🔥Tell your friends!

Tell strangers, for that matter. People in line at the check out, your elderly neighbor, the mail carrier - no one is safe from your library advocacy. Libraries are for everyone and we need all the help we can get.

...Wait, why do we need this IMLS thing again?

The ALA says it best in their official statement and lists some ways libraries across the country use IMLS funding:

But if you want a really specific answer, here at LCPL we use IMLS funding to provide our amazing interlibrary loan service. If we can't purchase an item you request (out of print books, for example) this service lets us borrow it from another library and check it out to you.

IMLS also funds the statewide Indiana Digital Library and Evergreen Indiana, which gives patrons of smaller Indiana libraries access to collections just as large and varied as the big libraries' collections.

As usual, cutting this funding will hurt rural communities the most - but every library user will feel it one way or another. Let's let Congress know that's unacceptable.

[strwberri-milk]

Hi! If it's okay with you i'd like to request a fic/reaction of the lads men to encountering reader's ex? If not all, could it be Zayne? Given how he's shown treats/reactions of being jealous/possesive, i'd love to see how you portray that since you're really good at being True to canon, you have a very good understanding of the characters, their lore, and you explain yourself really well, I enjoy your writings a lot😚

thank you <3 im glad that youre into the way i portray them! im not like, perfect but i like to think i have a good understanding of the charas lolo - also, this i sjust for zayne! i am trying to guide people to sending less characters/ask bc honetly, doing five, and eventually six per ask when they add another LI is gonna be too exhuasting - im already not liking five lolol

Zayne is very confident in his relationship with you but that doesn't mean he doesn't get jealous. He's very good at keeping himself composed but meeting your ex doesn't actually really intimidate him too much.

He's going to be a little extra affectionate with you but in a subtle way that doesn't make it seem like he's being possessive of you. He wants to show off to your ex how much happier you are with him than you were before. He's very smug about it, coming up behind you and acting totally dense as you introduce your ex to him.

He casually introduces himself as the youngest cardiac surgeon at a prestigious hospital, making sure that he's bragging about his achievements in a way that your ex can see that Zayne himself isn't very surprised that he's done so well. That this level of excellence is standard in his life - further intimidating your ex.

He keeps an arm around your waist and gives you a soft look that he's never really aware he has when it only comes to you. He smiles and laughs whenever you say something, his attention solely on you and you're so used to him being this attentive that your ex just feels a little awkward and definitely like they're interrupting something. They'd leave out of sheer awkwardness, seeing the way he looks at you and how obvious it is that you're madly in love with Zayne.

Zayne's going to consider this a win, knowing that your ex is going to have second thoughts about seeing you again now that they know who you're going home to. He knows that even if his accolades aren't impressive, he's considered fairly attractive which is definitely intimidating when paired with his height.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Congrats on 1k! It is so well deserved, I absolutely adore your writing <3

I’d love to request "What I'm trying to say is... I like you." + Quinn Hughes

Thank you <3

Ahh, thank you, lovely! I hope enjoy this one too <3 xx 1000 Followers Celly Currently ongoing 🥳🎉 Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

Quinn has walked you to your front door after spending the day with you. A rare occurrence for Quinn mid-season, to have time to go out and about around Vancouver with you. You'd missed your friend as the season had gotten more and more intense. You understood of course, but it was nice to spend an entire day with him, not just passing minutes or an hour here or there.

"This was nice..." Quinn has his hands pressed into his pockets, beanie pulled over his curls that had started to grow out a little long. He's lingering, he knows he is, but he can't help it as he tries to say what he's thinking...without saying it.

"Yeah, it was nice." The smile you give him is oblivious, happy to have seen your friend as you unlock your front door and stand in the doorway.

"We should...we should do this again sometime?" God, he sucks at this, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck like he's a school kid asking you to the school dance. Except it's not as obvious is it? Who says 'we should do this again sometime?'? Who says that?

"Yeah, I'd like that. You know I like spending time with you, Quinn...you're just really busy, y'know?" You sigh a little and he knows he's kind of dropped off the radar. Sure, he phones and he texts and he tries to make time for coffee, but it's not the same when he has to run out of every meet up within 40 minutes and every phone call is cut short.

But he also knows he makes more of an effort for you than most people. He tries to still see you, talk to you because he can't imagine not. "Yeah, but for you I can make time." The smile he sends your way is sweet, it sets your stomach fluttering but you remind yourself this is Quinn. He's not interested in you, never has been...you're just friends. As much as you wish you were more.

"Awww, that's sweet, but you don't have to."

"You're not...you're not getting it, huh?" Quinn rubs his brow, sighing because fuck, is he being vague or are you just oblivious? He thinks he's been pretty obvious over the years about how he feels, you're the only constant woman in his life that isn't a colleague or family.

"Getting what?"

"What I'm trying to say is... I like you." There, he's said it, he thinks. It's off his chest. He likes you and if you don't like him back that's fine...he can handle that, but he's done it.

"I like you too." Except the way you smile at him is still oblivious, sweet and it's obvious that you don't get what he's putting down, not picking it up in the slightest.

Quinn lets out the loudest sigh yet, head dropping back as he wills himself to just rip the band aid off, to just be clear with you and stop this painful miscommunication that's actually going to kill him.

"No, fuck. Sweetheart...I'm in love with you."

The way you freeze does not fill him with joy, if anything he feels sick to the stomach. Your smile drops, not into a frown, just drops. The shock evident on your face as you blink at him like that'll help you process what he's just said to you.

"...What?" You take a step forward and that alone gives him some hope, some confidence to keep going.

"I'm in love with you and when I say we should spend time together, I mean I want to take you on a date. When I say I can make time for you, I mean I want to make time for you because I want you to be mine. You understand what I'm trying to say?" By the end he's red in the face, breathless because he barely took a breath the entire spiel...and you're looking at him in a new light, a little smile starting, glowing almost.

"Oh...yeah. I get what you're saying." Your smile becomes a grin and it's enough, it's enough to keep that little flame of hope alive, enough for him to put all his cards on the table and hope for the best.

"So, can I take you on a date?"

Quinn licks his bottom lip, an old nervous habit, as he waits. It's seconds but it feels like minutes until you respond.

"Yeah, you can take me on a date."

Neither of you know how to act. Just stood there grinning at each other like idiots, like two friends who like each other a whole lot more, who just admitted it but have no idea how you're supposed to behave in that scenario.

"Cool...cool, see you later?" His wave is awkward, ridiculous because usually he'd hug you goodbye, but you wave back just as awkward and that somehow makes him feel a little better. That he's not the only one unsure how to navigate this.

"See you later."

He waits until you're in your house, door closed, before he walks off. You immediately rush to your window to watch him as he leaves. You catch the way he fist pumps the air, how he jumps with a new sort of skip in his step that has you giggling, even more so when he turns to look back at your house and catches your eye, flushing bright red at being caught.

Yeah...neither of you know how to act and maybe it's weird right now, but you think maybe it'll be alright in the long run. Afterall, Quinn Hughes loves you.

[minorlyatfault]

⪩ ⪨ I'M YOUR MAN, I'M YOUR WOMAN, I'M YOUR GODDESS, I'M YOUR FOOL !

ᰔ PAIRING . . . jason peter todd !

ᰔ . . . j. todd with a silena beauregard coded! reader !

ᰔ CATEGORY . . . HEADCANONS !

ᰔ TAGS . . . silena beauregard coded!reader. romance novels on the nightstand, knives under the bed. he rolls his eyes but never misses a chapter. target dates turned emotional revelations. “i’m bad for you” type shyt & she just laughs. nail polish & tiny hearts. he reads lynn painter books & pretends not to care. protective bf but make it silent acts of love. love letters disguised as sarcasm. moral ambiguity meets pink pens & scented candles. he flinches at love but stays anyway. jason todd is confused but in loooovveee. emotional whiplash via boyfriend. mentions of trauma (lightly). softness so intense it may make him feral. you being dangerously lovable.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 NOTES !

001. reader is not a demigod !! she only has silena beauregard's personality traits !! so,, this is basically how i imagine silena if she wasn't a demigod.

002. mwamwa i love u j. todd

you guys met on a bookstore.

yeah, that overused one. not very original. but,,, it's jason.

he was brooding over the thriller section & you were in the romance section holding "better than the movies" & giggling.

he glared. you caught him. smiled. & said:

"are you judging me, batboy?"

wow.

you called him batboy before you knew who he was.

because he had the jawline. the hoodie. the eternal scowl. he looked like he lived off coffee & guilt. LIKE URGHHHHHHHHHHH

you were pink. he was pain. it was inevitable.

jason was like, "who the hell is this girl & why is she sparkly & loud & giving me heart palpitations."

& then he saw how your smile disappeared when people dismissed you.

how you gave so much love even when you were tired.

& he was like. oh no.

you took the initiative. naturally.

jason is the kind of guy who'll pine for six months before he'll ask someone out.

so you snuck your number into his book when he wasn't looking.

it was in purple ink with a heart over the i in your name < 33

he texted you two days later. about time.

"so, you gonna keep stalking me in the romance aisle or are you gonna let me buy you coffee?"

you thought he hated romance.

plot twist: he doesn't.

he pretends he does, but then he read the do-over in one sitting & texted you angrily at 3am like

"i didn't expect to CARE about these people, wtf."

he never stops you from discussing your books.

like. you'll yap for a half hour about the boy next door troupe & jason just drinks his drink, nods, & maybe every once in a while says

"he sounds like a loser. i'd never take so long to kiss you."

he's talking about wes bennett btw lol

god forbid the boy to read nothing like the movies

you paint his nails.

sometimes black. sometimes glittery pink.

once you put alternating hearts & teeny knives.

he got upset. didn't remove it for a week.

you put together a "boyfriend basket."

with treats, a hoodie you spritzed with perfume, a mini version of betting on you, & a "reasons i love you" list.

he took it home like it was a grenade.

he has your lip gloss on.

not on accident.

you kiss him so much he just ends up with glitter on his mouth.

you're always laughing & brushing it off. (he lowkey doesn't like you to.)

you sob during movies. & jason panics every single time.

he's like

"do i kill someone?

do i get tissues?

do you need chocolate?"

& you're like

"no i'm just emotionally invested in this fictional couple."

he doesn't understand but he hugs you anyway.(he's very stiff though, he's adjusting !!)

you go to target solely to vibe.

jason rolls the cart.

you toss in candles & bath bombs & glitter pens.

he pretends to sigh but secretly adoresssssss every moment of it.

you do vision boards !!

yours has pink sunsets, flowers, love quotes.

jason's has like… knives & motorcycle pieces.

but you got him to put one soft picture on it.

it's a fuzzy polaroid of you. you !!

he keeps it stuck to his helmet now.

you rant.

jason listens.

doesn't always respond immediately.

but hours later he'll return & say something like,,,

"you make me feel like i'm not broken."

& then just walk away like he didn't just devastate you emotionally. LIKE??? cruel man.

you're the first human being to ever make him feel safe. ( esp,, after,,, yk. )

like, he comes into your apartment & suddenly his shoulders relax, his breathing eases, & he's like, "this is home." not a place. you.

you make him playlists.

one for each mood.

"kiss me slow," "bad day vibes (hug edition),"

he listens to them on patrol.

every time.

you get him ready for date nights.

"jason. seriously. no more black everything."

he'll wear the shirt you've selected & complain through the entire process.

but you see him glance at himself in the mirror. just slightly.

he doesn't tell you "i love you" first. he tells him

"don't die"

&

"text me when you get in"

&

"i got that stupid tea you like."

& finally,,,,,

"i don't know how to do this. but i'm trying. because it's you."

:((((

you're all he didn't realize he was missing.

quiet. loud. gentle. shiny.

you have your heart like a crown & kiss his scars like verse.

& somehow▰somehow▰you make him feel like perhaps he's worthy of it. ( he is. )

[luesmainblog]

huh. this not being obvious to others explains the arguments around Power Fantasies in general. This isn't exclusive to villain and love interest stuff, it works for pretty much anything someone might label a Power Fantasy! I'd argue Safety Fantasies also fall into this, very much interwoven. Femininity? some people feel powerful imagining doing Big Important Stuff while being donned head to toe in pink and acrylics and everything girly. others find power in shedding these things completely and distancing themselves from everything society associates with women.

Masculinity? some people love the idea of being a big sweaty strongman with no shirt taking down giant enemies with their bare hands. others find it in being physically frail but socially having too much power to be touched. others still find strength and reassurance in the image of soft masculinity, of winning the day by rejecting the idea that they have to be toxic to be a real man. Sexuality? some people love to imagine being an uber-powerful seductress who can literally wear lingerie as daily wear and kick ass doing it. others find strength and safety in the idea of modesty overcoming the seductive.

S.A. and other forms of abuse? some people want to kill the bitch that did this to them. some people re-explore the moment until they're in control again. some people find safety and protection to be more emboldening than the idea of having to save themselves. some of us prefer a game where it's an instant game-over, and some of us find strength in a game that makes us continue afterwards.

it's important to understand that different people have different emotional needs than you, and fantasy is a way of achieving or supplementing those needs.

I think it’s really important to talk about how different people have different power fantasies.

For example:

For some people, the idea of someone redeeming a villain is a power fantasy.

For other people, the idea of a villain being defeated is a power fantasy.

And for other people, the idea of a character owning their villainy is a power fantasy.

I would argue a lot of fandom conflicts re: villains come from people being unable to see that their fantasies, which put them in control of a narrative (and all three of these are designed to give the author or reader control of the narrative in different ways) are someone else’s horror stories.

[mylovesstuffs]

“It’s not cute” — Choi Seungcheol

Request: hey, Celeste!!! how are you doing? I'm so glad your requests are open!

i wanted to request something (in whatever form you feel most inspired to): reader having essential tremors (it's an actual condition im not making it up 😭✋) and being frustrated about it, maybe lashing out or breaking down one day. the fact that everyone points it out and sometimes joke abt it, etc. angst + comfort , maybe? also i'd like it to be w cheol or wonu, but tbh any of them is absolutely fine!

tysm <333

It starts with eyeliner and ends in a breakdown. The world doesn’t understand what it’s like to live in a body that won’t always obey, tired of laughing first before someone else can. But Seungcheol doesn’t need to understand it all, he just holds your trembling hands like they’ve always been steady, and loves you like you’ve never been less.

Genre: Non-idol au, established relationship, angst and comfort, introspective slice of life and character study

Pairing: Seungcheol × fem!reader

Content: Essential tremors [aka benign tremor, familial tremor, and idiopathic tremor], emotional breakdown, eyeliner symbolism [bc girlyhood], comfort from a loving partner who is choi seungcheol, no judgment, warm arms and understanding hearts, one-sided flashbacks to bullying/teasing, reader struggling with internalized shame, reassurance, love that stays

Content warning: Mentions of medical condition [essential tremors], anxiety, childhood bullying, ableist microaggressions, internalized frustration and self-doubt, crying, cursing once or twice, one emotionally charged breakdown. No explicit content.

Word count: 921 words

A/N: It was supposed to be shorter... about 400 words like a drabble, though I still think it's drabble but I was hoping for it to either be 400-500 words or 1k 😔

For my sweet anon—i hope this gives you even a sliver of the comfort you were looking for. This one was written with a lot of heart at like... 2:46 am when i should’ve been asleep but cheol brainrot said otherwise. To anyone else who reads this and relates even a little: your exhaustion and frustration is valid, and your hands deserve to be held gently too. I experience a slight tremor as well, though I believe it’s genetic since it runs in my family. According to my doctor, mine is primarily triggered by stress and anxiety [I was under treatment back in October during a period when my mental health went really down]. I’ve been prescribed different medications since then, not specifically targeted for tremors, but the tremor was listed as one of the symptoms being addressed in the medication guidelines. While I might not fully relate to this experience, as my condition hasn’t been formally diagnosed and doesn’t really interfere with my daily life, I still hope I was able to do this piece justice. Also, huge thanks to Calli @hhaechansmoless for beta-ing. As always, we run anyway ! (￣▽￣)ノ♡

It starts small, and it always does; a dropped spoon, a tremble in your fingers while pouring water. The slightest bit of shake that you'd think it could pass unnoticed, but that, people always notice, and never don’t comment on.

“Why are you always shaking?”

“You nervous or something?”

“You should drink less coffee.”

“Aw, you’re like a baby deer.”

Haha, it is so funny to you at this point. But today, it feels entirely different to you, it's like you're not yourself anymore. You’re tired, and you just want to put your eyeliner on, but the line goes jagged again. And for some reason, that tiny thing becomes the last straw of the day.

You slam the eyeliner on the counter and nearly knock over everything else with your unsteady hands. “God, I’m so sick of this!” you hiss. “Why can’t I just be normal for five fucking seconds?”

The bathroom door creaks open and you already feel Seungcheol behind you. “Hey,” he says softly. “What’s going on?”

You blink back your unshed tears, but still they betray you like everything else lately. “It’s not cute, Cheol. It’s not quirky, or funny, or something you get to joke about. I hate it. I hate how I shake. I hate how people treat me like it’s some personality trait. It’s a condition, and I’m tired.” Your voice cracks, and so does your composure, and you sink down onto the closed toilet lid, face in your hands, breath shaky just like your very own fingers. The way they’ve done for so long, it doesn’t even surprise you anymore.

All you expect right now, is silence. But instead big, calloused, warm hands wrap gently around yours.

Shaking or not, he brings them to his lips and kisses your knuckles, softly and slowly. “I know it’s not cute when people don’t take it seriously,” he says, kneeling in front of you. “And I’m sorry if anyone’s ever made you feel like you have to pretend it’s no big deal.”

You look up with your glassy eyes and trembling lips. “I’ve never once thought less of you for it,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to be ‘normal’ to be everything I love.” A small sob leaves your lips, and he pulls you into a hug, his arms secure around you, voice a low hum against your hair. “You can be frustrated. You can hate it, but you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here, even if your hands shake every day for the rest of your life, I’ll still hold them just like this.”

You want to believe him, even as your fingers tremble. In fact, you do believe him; believe that he doesn’t want to let go, that he won’t.

But there’s something bitter lodged deep in your chest, a heaviness that doesn't disappear just because someone holds you through it, because you've heard this before. Variations of it. Words that sounded like comfort, but were laced with pity, gestures that looked like care, but never stayed long enough to be safe.

You remember being younger and dropping your spoon in front of classmates during recess. The laughter and the mock sympathy haunted you for years and they still does. “Are you scared?” they'd tease. You weren’t; not then at least. You didn’t even know what was happening, and why your body betrayed you when all you wanted was to be still.

And now, years later, it’s not even the tremor that hurts most, it’s what comes along with it without your consent. The way people watch, the way they assume it’s your fault, the way you're constantly being explained—to others, to yourself, that you’ve become a walking explanation.

“You know, she has this thing—”

“It’s not that big of a deal—”

“She’s always been like that—” You’re always like that.

It chips away at you, little by little, and you start adjusting your life to avoid the gaze. No eyeliner on days you feel particularly self-conscious, two hands to hold a cup, even if it makes you look ridiculous, rehearsing how you’ll brush it off when someone points it out again; laughing before they do, so it seems like you're okay with it.

You’ve weaponized your own shame into pre-emptive jokes. Turned your fear into something palatable… but it still hurts. It hurts when people don’t even ask if you’re okay. They just assume you’re something to laugh at, to observe, and you’ve been strong for so long, that today just felt like the end of it. Like how this one tiny thing —the jagged eyeliner—was all it took to remind you how helpless it can feel to live in a body that doesn’t always listen. But now, there’s warmth.

And maybe that should terrify you, because if people can be cruel, then love can be temporary. But his arms around you don’t feel temporary, his silence doesn’t feel judgmental, and most important of all, he doesn’t ask you to feel better; he just stays along with you.

You want to believe that someone can see all of it: the struggle, the cracks, the exhaustion, and still choose to stay, but not because they pity you, not because they want to fix you, but because they love you even like this, and especially like this.

Your breath hiccups in your throat, and you let yourself lean into him just a little more. Though your hands still shake, you begin to believe they don’t make you any less worthy of being held.

[bbyg4rl]

I wanted to say thank you for answering my question so quickly and kindly but I was also curious if you'd be willing to write anything about JJ with a reader that has an eating disorder. I know ed's are a very sensitive topic to a lot of people so if you aren't comfortable with it I 100% understand. I used to have an ed that I still often struggle with, something like anorexia but never fully anorexic if that makes sense but that's why I was asking. So if you are comfortable with it I'd love a concept/thought thing about it that's completely fine too. ALSO. JJ is very kiss me thru the phone by soulja boy and Sammie codded

-🦇

You sat on the counter, knees pulled to your chest, hoodie sleeves covering your hands. The granola bar sat unopened beside you.

JJ didn’t say anything at first. Just walked over, peeled it open, and broke off a piece like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Open,” he said quietly, like he was asking, not telling.

You hesitated, but he waited—patient, soft-eyed. So you did.

He slipped the piece past your lips like he’d done it a thousand times, like he wanted to. And when you chewed, he gave you the faintest smile, eyes never leaving yours.

“See?” he murmured. “Still human. Still loved. Still here.”

Another bite. And another.

He didn’t rush you. Didn’t count the pieces or comment on how little you’d eaten that day. He just fed you, slowly, gently, like it wasn’t about food at all—but about care.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” he whispered, brushing a crumb from your lip.

And when you leaned into his chest afterward, stomach full—not of food, but of safety—you believed him. He didn’t offer you a lecture or a plate of food you couldn’t look at. Just opened his arms and let you fold into him.

Just a little. Just enough.

read more concepts here !

as someone whos always had struggles with anorexia, this one is so personal to me, ive had a draft dealing w this since i started this page in jan and i havent been able to finish it yet, but heres a lil blurb, which isnt fiction rly bc i was lucky enough to have someone in my life who helped me walk thru that hell path, my dms and my asks are always open for you love ❤️‍🩹 this isnt something you have to deal with alone and ill always listen no matter how irrational or stupid or constricting it may feel. you're always loved. remember that ❤️‍🩹

also yes jj is very kiss me thru the phone coded

[changingplumbob]

Day thirteen - Jerry group part 1/2

@berrysims-lp, @cawthorntales, @fallin4fiction, @invisiblequeen, @matchalovertrait, @simstagramsomeone

A new day in the villa! Coins are flipped for if contestants will brush their teeth and a wheel is spun for type of shower. Most contestants woke up gloomy - they'd had an awful love day with no dates! But since that didn't make much sense when group changeover was 10pm the bad moodlets were systematically removed.

For breakfast contestants were instructed to grab a plate of food then left to make their own choices while Autonomy was set to full. Room doors were locked in the morning to deter computer use. Deanna complimented the outfit of each contestant in order of when they arrived to eat.

Quetzalli and Harmony grabbed the seats either side of Deanna and tucked in to breakfast. Yasmine and Posy were in good moods, cracking jokes and telling stories. For some reason no one can fathom Cassiel and Jerrica chose to sit next to each other. To show growth? Maybe but they still got tense.

Then Yasmine and Quetzalli decided to show off their fitness following their brisk morning showers. Of course it was probably less than tactful to show off right beside lazy sim Jerrica... Cassiel laughed but Harmony and Quetzalli tried to cheer Jerrica up.

Devin: Welcome to your second challenge. This one was chosen by Joey, little brother to me, older brother to Deanna. Joey wants to get in to designing and releasing his own games, his debut game has been very successful, so you could say he's a tech head. You will be split in to two groups and play party frenzy. Joey, Deanna and I will watch. The person who wins the most games in each team will get a solo date this afternoon. If there is a tie Joey will assess who in the team has the best video gaming skills

Teams were randomised and are... Team 1: Quetzalli, Harmony, Yasmine Team 2: Posy, Jerrica, Cassiel

Quetzalli (voiceover): I’m great at parties. My quinceañera was unforgettable

Harmony: This is wonderful. This could be a great opportunity for me to show her what I am about. Without a bunch of people in the way

Yasmine (voiceover): I'm excited! I didn't think I'd do as well as I did with the bowling challenge, so I'm going in thinking positively about my chances!

Posy (voiceover): This is much more my speed. I love a good industry party. Time for me to get into my element! Well- virtually

Jerrica (voiceover): Alright, so I ended up on Cassiel's team... I'm going to try and be positive about this though. It's not really my thing but I'm going to try stay in good spirits

Cassiel (voiceover): I really don't enjoy small talk and mingling in crowds, so hopefully that's not reflected in the video game. If the music is good I might have an okay time, so long as I beat Jerrica

Growing up the York siblings often played video games, challenging each other to contests for fun. Joey felt like whoever wanted to woo his sister needed to have some understanding of how virtual games work so this was his first challenge choice.

Both teams had clear winners this time around. For team 1 Yasmine triumphed while in the competitive team 2 Jerrica won.

Harmony: *disappointed sigh* I tried my best though

Quetzalli: *Sighs* I was up against pro gamers

Posy: It's fine. I wasn't trying as hard as I could have, anyway.

Cassiel: I'd like to make myself a plate of cookies for getting through that. If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen

[pasquey]

We had seven refused offers on houses before getting ours. Seven, and that's only the houses we bid on, not even the ones where we wanted to bid but knew that it was realistically going to go for enough above the listed price that it wasn't worth trying. I expected that I'd get numb to that feeling of watching my future crash down into pieces whenever we got the call that the house had gone to someone else, but I never did.

There are still neighborhoods I drive past with a certain wistfulness. How could I not? I'm not a flipper; I wanted to buy a house I'd be living in for the rest of my life, and I had to grapple with what that life would look like every time we saw a new house. "The headspace of committing to a major life upheaval" is completely right, and it's not just about getting ready for the work - it's all the hopes that go along with it. That feeling of "We could make this a home." Where I would sit in a sunbeam when the weather was too cold to go outside. What things I'd be proud to show off, what I would sheepishly share with the friends who would understand it. The places I'd walk to, the short drives.

And with the house I ended up in, every time there's some new frustration, I can't help but think "what if I'd gotten one of the others instead? If only we'd bid higher on that first house" - the one that came before we were even entirely ready to start seriously looking, the one we saw on a whim as practice and immediately fell in love with - "we wouldn't have had to deal with any of this."

Our house becomes more our house with every year we spend in it, but those seven alternate futures still hover, some as bare wisps of memory and others as near tangible aches. And that's the happy ending. We got a house.

(We got a house from some acquaintances who didn't want to do the significant work it needed to be put on the open market. We got a house that our agent acknowledged would have been a ridiculous amount less expensive a few years ago. We got a pile of resentments for some otherwise perfectly lovely people because they might like us but they sure weren't going to be any kinder than the market at large, except in as far as they didn't make us fight for it. We got a house.)

It's a ridiculous world we live in. I'm sorry. I hope you find a future that doesn't dissolve with one phone call soon.

Trying to buy a house will jokerfy you

[soleminisanction]

Your post about Damian'story changing the way the Robin mantle is seen is interesting. I like the take on Robin defying traditional social relationships. So I'd love to (if you want) read a more precise/complete definition of what you think Robin was before and what it became after Damian took over. Do you think all queerness is gone from the role, or are there still residues persisting despite the heteronormification of the role? Sidenote: never a fan of Dick being called "golden" after all the crap he endured from Bruce and the rest of the Batfamily over the years.

So, the stuff from that Damian post is actually drawn from some notes and musings that I've been gradually collecting into what's shaping up to be a long (probably) video essay on the history of Robin through a queer lens, which is something I've wanted to write for a while, I just have no focus and also a day job and a side gig so no promises about if or when I'm ever going to actually pull them all together.

Needless to say trying to summarize it in the length of a Tumblr post is not really feasible since I'm still collecting all my thoughts on the subject as it is. What it mostly boils down to is that, for a very, very long time, Robin -- specifically Dick -- was portrayed as Bruce's Beloved, in narrative sense, the person whom Our Hero loved and was motivated to protect. Most superheroes had at least one of these, but they tended to be Designated Love Interests, only the very luckiest of which -- like Lois Lane -- ever got the focus, page time, and attention to be treated as more than plot devices.

Robin, on the other hand, was always supposed to be his own character, and to an extent made being The Beloved part of the power fantasy. Most people understand the core fantasy of being a superhero, but for some there's just as much comfort to be found in the fantasy of being the person that the superhero would do anything to protect and go to any lengths to save. And, on the flipside, there's joy to be had in not always being the strongest or smartest or best hero, but being just good enough to help your hero when he needs it.

What resulted was a relationship of mutual care and affection that was vital to the core of the storytelling, but never given such a concrete framing that you could call it any one thing -- the closet they got was the classic, "...and his young ward," a term that has its own complicated history of ambiguity.

This relationship of reciprocal care resulted in Batman and Robin gaining a notable fanbase of gay men and boys. They weren't the only superheroes who had one -- not with the loving attention artists paid to the manly physique -- but they were notable enough that the sort of prudes who freak out about every new mass media being corrupting and degenerate were accusing the pair of being -- and this is a direct quote -- "pathologically homosexual," a good decade before the infamous Seduction of the Innocent was even published.

Even in a post-Comics Code era and the various efforts to de-gayify the franchise (introducing the original Bat-Woman and Bat-Girl, replacing Alfred with Dick's Aunt Harriet, etc.), Dick and Bruce's relationship remained in this kind of nebulous gray area of Beloved Wardship pretty much right up to the 80s, when the narrative choice was made to deliberately distance Dick from Bruce and tie him more firmly into the Teen Titans, eventually leading him to shed the Robin identity completely.

This is of course where we start getting into the other Robins and their specific relationships with Bruce, starting with Jason, whose relationship with Bruce was deliberately more parental but not entirely so, and then Tim, who for a long time set himself apart by having a father who was alive and an active part of his story, making his relationship with Bruce something else. Not that there was no parental element to it, just that there was far more to it than that. And yet they were both defined by being someone that Bruce (and, in Tim's case, Dick, and most of the other adult capes bopping around Gotham) loved and felt motivated to protect.

(Steph doesn't really factor into this discussion because her brief time in the cape is a whole other can of worms)

That then brings us to Damian, whose effect on the role I think I mostly covered in the previous ask. The most fundamental difference between it and what has come before being this: the unambiguous relationship between a father and his son, by its very nature, cannot be reciprocal. For Bruce to be a good father to Damian, he cannot expect Damian to provide the same kind and level of support that the other Robins did, which then creates problems because Bruce narratively and psychology relies on that support.

This has gotten very rambly and long so, to bring it back around and answer your second question:

No, I don't think the queerness is entirely gone. I think there are people who have tried (deliberately and otherwise) to push the ambiguity out, but they tend to fail for a simple reason: Tim's famous statement from ALPoD, "Batman needs a Robin," was a metatextual one. He wasn't just arguing with Bruce, he was arguing with the cynical readers of the superhero Dark Age, who wanted Robin dismissed as "too childish" for their grim and gritty champion knight. And he was right.

Batman and Robin stories have been popular for 85 goddamn years. There will always be people who want more Batman and Robin stories, and there will always be creators who want to tell Batman and Robin stories. Like I said in that other post, Damian doesn't tell those stories. Which is why, even before Tim officially dropped the "Red" from his name, there was a period of time when he was functionally acting as Robin in all but name -- because Damian wasn't.

It doesn't have to be Tim forever -- Maps Mizoguchi, for example, would make a fantastic Robin if they ever decided to pull the trigger on that for real. But even if Tim is written to move on, even if Damian winds up being the first Robin to make it to live action since the 90s, even if Wayne Family Adventures runs for twenty seasons, I don't think the queerness and ambiguity can ever really be cast away for good. It's just too foundational.

[group-dynamic]

The Pitt Episode 1: Literary Details

I'm calling this series: "Literary elements in the writing for the Pitt that may be incidental but make me absolutely feral anyway."

Literary Element #1: Foreshadowing Thematic Idea: Giving life and caring for others can cause you pain.

Starting Point: Suicide motif.

->Start with Abbott and Robby on the rooftop. "What are you doing here?" This is the obvious one as they discuss suicidal tendencies. The question is why do they keep doing this job? Robby answers: "It's the job that keeps on giving," but what it gives is pain, ulcers, nightmares, etc. The thing is, this isn't just a question of why they do this job, it's "Why are you here?" What is your purpose? Why haven't they both stepped off that roof yet? What keeps them going? It's the human question.

->At this moment, we hear a church bell ring over the sound of a siren. Life and death. Pain and prayer.

->As they descend in the elevator, Abbott discusses that he has a teen coming back to end a pregnancy (life and death) and Abbott gives Robby his letter for the "dead vet's family." (Why do they do this? Because they care. It's so clear in that moment).

->And what precedes this scene? Collins in the bathroom puking from morning sickness. Dana mentions how she had morning sickness with her 2nd daughter "I'd like to say it goes away but. . ." We also hear Dana's report about Robby: four years in and he's still sick over losing his mentor. The way that we care for others hurts us. Bringing life is painful. Losing life is painful. Life is pain from start to finish. (Why do we do this?? It's a new day, maybe this time. . . )

->And what follows this scene? The mother with the burned hand from the sterno from trying to make her kids s'mores. When we care for others but don't have the resources to provide what they need we will not give up: we will hurt ourselves for them. We'd burn ourselves up entirely to give an extra bit of warmth to those we love. This is the conversation Robby has with Gloria about the hospital. There aren't enough resources at this hospital. It's hurting the patients and the staff. (Incidentally, Gloria's name is religious, there is a religion motif.)

->The first big case arrives. The man who fell onto the subway tracks: "Suicide?" Robby asks immediately. "No, he's a good Samaritan." He fell trying to help. He fell trying to get back up AFTER helping someone.

Foreshadowing Break: "Talk to me at the end of the night," Abbott says to newbie Mel. He means this metaphorically--jokingly--but even though he is not scheduled to work that night, lo and behold, a self-fulfilling prophesy: he shows up. The need arises and he shows up. Why do they keep doing this? (Because someone has to be there at the end of the night / end of the day to talk the other one the roof. No man gets left behind. They wouldn't leave one another to fight this battle alone).

->The woman who fell on the tracks: "Any chance she jumped?" Robby once again goes right to the suicide mindset. We see in others what we understand in ourselves. He is reading this as an internal issue again, but it's a societal issue: she may have been pushed.

->Triathlon guy: he keeps running, and running, and even when he's not feeling well, he keeps running because that's what well trained people do. But when we run and run and don't stop. . . his heart stops. Sometimes you have to take a break, McKay tries to remind him.

->"No good deed goes unpunished" <--Donnie says

Foreshadowing Break: "It's not always about you, Robby" Collins says in response to their cute, snippy "You okay?" exchange. And she's right. This time her morning sickness isn't about him, because this baby was from IVF, not like the last one. Anyway: caring is sometimes having sore feelings and asking "are you okay?" anyway.

->"arrival of the living dead" Life and death. Life and death.

->Something they do at this ED: they pause when a life is lost: "To remember that this was somebody's child. . ." That's why they do this. We are all somebody's child. . .

->Here comes Victoria's mom. Checking on her daughter. We are all somebody's child.

Foreshadowing break! Here come the concerned parents of a child who won't wake up. A child who, it turns out, ingested a drug that was left out by his dad whose wife is irate about it. Langdon is in the room; Langdon with the young child and the wife who seems pissed at him and the secret third thing we don't know about yet with the drugs. (I'm not insinuating anything except parallels and: we hurt the people we love by accident through the choices we make.)

->Whoops! A whole tiny scene about relieving the pressure to make something hurt less. This is about Whitaker's finger. It's not foreshadowing of the thematic ideas of the show.

->Finally: in comes David with his mother Theresa. (Mother Theresa with a son David. This show's religious names!!) She has literally made herself sick to try and get her son the help he needs. We would make ourselves sick for the ones we love. Literally, spiritually, emotionally, physically. (Why do we do this? What are you doing here?) The one thing we won't do, can't do, so rarely try to do: Talk. The fact that one of Collin's big feats in this episode is helping a woman to communicate. . . coincidence, surely. The fact that Robby denies talking to her and Dana and Kiara. Coincidence, surely. Oh and: Heart problems. Heart problems. Heart problems. (Patient after patient with heart problems. Chest pain. . . isn't that bad?) Everybody's hurting and . . . Whitaker. Princess asks "Do you want an EKG?" This nice man is in pain, but he seems fine, but Whitaker says okay.

Foreshadowing break: Whitaker's patient with a sneaky, hidden heart problem. More on that later.

[julien-sorel]

The way I understand it (from people I know IRL who are in that world), most modern art is either

A) technical wankery trying to distill some aspect or trait of an artwork to its platonic ideal (often the case with earlier works when modern art was just becoming a thing), similar to, say, a very niche experimental perfume. The nerds are really into it. There's similar stuff in 20th c classical composition and I gotta say you do start to get it if you're like deep into the rabbithole of whatever the artist is trying to do. It's less about providing a full aesthetic experience and more about sort of training your senses to discern subtle changes in X and what they evoke by presenting them in isolation from everything else as much as you can physically manage. Like a scientific experiment where you isolate variable x and then subtly, well, vary it. The goal is less to make something broadly appealing and more to help the artist train to achieve that precision of expression (and then serve as a showcase of it).

Or

B) literal shitposting. As in, there are trends and ongoing conversations and memes of sorts and a lot of the more acclaimed modern art isn't meant to be consumed as a separate and complete aesthetic experience that you can get something out of as a total rando who walked into a gallery to see something that has a visually pleasing effect or evokes some sort of emotion, but rather as something with the exact nature of a low effort Tumblr shitpost that makes zero sense to people outside of Tumblr but that Tumblrinas love because it picks just the right words and hits just the right spot in subverting/mocking/questioning/referencing the current memes/trends (and sometimes has stuff that's there just for shock value).

So saying that it takes no creativity or skill isn't true - some people just can't Post to save their life (see Elon Musk), and some are naturals. I'd say the aesthetic skill of picking the right words/elements is a minor part of it and the conversational/debate skill of perceiving the flow of the general conversation and knowing exactly when and what to reply is the larger part. Still, like with anything that's a conversation the social networks and clout of the participants determine how far each addition to the conversation will spread and how it will be received. A zinger by toskarin will be experienced differently from a zinger by a rando with three followers. (And a five-year-old could feasibly reproduce a popular Tumblr shitpost or create something similar but they're not participating in the conversation in the same way and we know their understanding of the conversation wouldn't be the same.)

And when the clout and the social network depend on years of expensive art schools and expensive networking events that few can afford long-term... yeah. What OP said ends up largely being true. Unless you're very rich and well-connected you're the guy with two followers whose post might go viral because it hits just the right zeitgeisty sweet spot, but if it does it's 99% luck in having it spotted/shared by the right person and 1% anything you did.

Plus when anything like this gains societal prestige (as anything adopted by the rich and ~refined will) you also get the hangers on who want to be into it because it's cool/intellectual and not because they really get it (but they HAVE to like it because it's cool and critically acclaimed and all the trendy kids etc. etc. You don't GET it, Rothko is good because his paintings are LARGE, that's why I want one in my house!). I get both sides to an extent, I get stuff like Rothko or atonal composition to a point because I'm well-versed enough in what they're trying to do, but, say, most experimental/arthouse cinema just does nothing for me and looks like an obnoxious, pretentious mess, when I imagine it works in a similar way to folk who are in the know.

The highbrow art types are largely aware of all this, which is why you rarely see them, say, foaming at the mouth about AI the way more "artisanal" artists and illustrators (which the high art types will often argue are different from artists) do. They know art hasn't been about "effort" and "skill" and "self-expression" and "soul" for decades, if it ever has been.

In fact they're more likely to use genAI to make whatever the high art equivalent of the Gay Sex Cats image is and make the insiders laugh when they spot the meme-y easter egg.

"ugh, my five-year-old could make that!"

"so why don't you?"

"because in my view this part of the art world is not about talent or the work itself, but about who you know and a large amount of random chance, and i'm not an insider so anything I make will be viewed as worthless."

"oh."

[psychoticallykind]

Perfect

A Jegulus Fic, because awful people exist.

Hurt/Comfort; mention of murder

1,391 words

James knew something was wrong the second he stepped inside the apartment.

"Reg?" He called out quietly, glancing into the living room and kitchen as he passed them. As expected, Regulus wasn't there, so he kept moving.

The bedroom door was cracked, and James pushed it the rest of the way as he stepped forward. "Reg, baby? Hey," he reached the bed, frowning in concern as he took in his boyfriend's position.

Regulus was curled up, face pressed into a pillow. He was on top of the comforter, but his arms were wrapped tightly around his sides as if he were cold.

There was a small, pained sound, and James sat down carefully on the edge of the mattress.

"Hey, love," he said softly. "Can I touch?"

The dark curls shifted as Regulus nodded, not lifting his face from the pillow.

"Thank you." James rested his hand on Regulus's back, rubbing small circles into the tense muscles. "Did something happen?"

Regulus mumbled something.

"I didn't quite get that," James admitted.

He felt Regulus take a deep breath, and then his head lifted a couple of centimeters. "I'm in hell."

Then he dropped back down, and James wasn't any closer to understanding what had happened. But that was okay - he didn't need to know why Regulus was in pain. He only needed to know that he was.

"Can I hold you?"

He waited for the nod before shifting, lying down and pulling Regulus into his chest.

The action jostled Regulus's face from the pillow, and he was quick to turn and bury it in James's sweater instead.

James hummed, using one hand to massage his neck. "I'm sorry you're in hell." He smiled softly, though Regulus couldn't see it. "I'll come be in hell with you, if it'll help."

There was a sniffle, and James had to suppress a sharp spike of alarm.

"I can read to you?" he offered.

Regulus shook his head, and James felt his hands curling up in his sweater.

"Okay," James agreed quietly. "No reading. Just cuddles, then?"

"Mm," Regulus hummed.

James gave him a quick squeeze. "Sounds perfect, love."

They stayed that way for a while. James wasn't sure how long, and he didn't care.

Every once in a while, Regulus would sniffle, but he wouldn't let James see his face.

Eventually, he took another deep breath, but still didn't move.

"Would you really?"

James hummed, rubbing circles into his lower back. "Would I really what?"

The answer came in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper. "Go to hell for me."

"Of course," James replied honestly. "I'd do anything for you."

There was a long pause, and he wondered if that was all Regulus had wanted to say.

Then he leaned back, tipping his head to look at James for the first time since this morning, and James's breath caught.

Regulus looked exhausted. Tired and pale, with redness on his cheeks that James knew came when he'd been crying for a while. There were dried tear tracks that hadn't been wiped away, and Regulus's bottom lip looked swollen, like he'd been biting on it over and over.

Long eyelashes blinked up at him. "Would you kill someone for me?"

If anyone else had asked, James would have said he really wasn't the killing type.

But for Regulus?

Well. That was different.

James half-smiled, gently wiping at one of the tear tracks. "I told you." His hand moved down, sliding under Regulus's jaw. "I'll do anything for you."

Regulus smiled at that. It was small, and it didn't erase the redness from his eyes, but it was something and James was so grateful for that.

Then he tipped his head, leaning into James's touch. "Would you kill her for me?"

"Absolutely," James promised, meeting his eyes. "Who am I killing?"

The smile grew, and Regulus dipped his head back down to hide in James's sweater.

The words were quiet, but not unsure. "My mother."

"Oh, completely yes," James replied. He squeezed Regulus tight. "Absolutely. One hundred percent. Can I call Remus? He'll be furious if I don't let him help."

There was a quiet snort. "You sound so enthusiastic."

"I am," James replied. "I'm so fucking thrilled, actually. Do you know how long I've spent hoping your mother would die in a car crash? A lightning storm? A random freak accident?"

Regulus was shaking with silent laughter now, but James wasn't done.

"Sometimes I imagine it when I'm having a particularly bad day," James informed him. "You know - the headlines in the news? 'Walburga Black, found dead, mourned by none'. Always makes me smile."

Regulus was grinning now, no longer hiding. "Really?"

"Really," James confirmed. He grinned back at his boyfriend, pressing a quick, soft kiss to his forehead. "Just tell me when you want it done, love, and I'll make it happen."

Regulus kissed his nose. "Thank you."

James laughed. "I haven't done it yet."

"I know," Regulus replied, cuddling closer. "But I believe that you would. If I asked."

"Without hesitation."

There was a sharp inhale. "She was in the news today."

"Oh?" James asked. "Not because she's dead, I'm assuming."

Regulus snorted. "Unfortunately not, no." He bit gently at James's skin. "She was interviewed for something. Apparently, my dear mother has some strong opinions on the trans community."

James hummed. "I can't imagine they were fun to read."

"They weren't," Regulus confirmed. He sighed. "I shouldn't have clicked on it."

"Maybe not," James agreed.

Regulus nodded, expression hidden. Then he shifted, lying flat on his back, and James could see everything again.

"She's just - she's such a dreadful person," Regulus said to their ceiling. He was frowning. "And realistically, I know that nothing that comes out of her mouth is going to be good or right or compassionate. But I still - I still read it. I still listen to it. And it still hurts."

"It hurts to know that she doesn't see me as a valid human being, and it hurts to know that she's always going to be a part of my story," Regulus continued. He sucked in a sharp breath. "And I hate that she exists. I hate that she's out there, giving interviews and clinging to fame and thinking that she's right. I hate that there are people who agree with her. I - I hate -" he stopped, shaking his head.

"Her?" James asked.

"Yeah." Regulus laughed, but there was no humor to it. "Awful, isn't it? To hate the person who gave you life?"

"No." James shook his head. "Not awful. Reasonable, I think, when that person happens to be as cruel and twisted as she is." He kissed Regulus's cheek. "There are people who agree with her, and that's terrible. She's terrible. But there are so many people who don't. Like you. And me, and Sirius, and Remus, and Barty, and Evan, and Pandora, and Dorcas, and Marlene, and Mary, and Lily, and my mom, and my dad, and Peter, and -"

"Are you going to list all of the people we talk to?" Regulus asked, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

James shrugged. "If you need me to, then yeah." He tugged Regulus back into a hug, wrapping him securely in his arms. "I'm sorry she exists. I'll kill her if you want."

Regulus huffed out a laugh. "Maybe. Not right now, though."

"Well, alright," James replied. "What do you want right now, then? Anything. I'll get it."

"Mm." Regulus kissed his collarbone. "Maybe you can cook dinner and we can watch a movie on the couch?"

"That sounds perfect," James replied. He nudged Regulus until he shifted, lifting his head.

Then he kissed him, soft and slow. Not to lead to anything, or to prove anything. Just because it was Regulus.

They were both a little out of breath when they separated, but James didn't care. He kissed Regulus's nose, his cheeks, his forehead. Over and over until Regulus was laughing again.

"You're perfect," James promised him. "So perfect. I love you. I'm going to cook the best dinner for you. And dessert. And breakfast. Any meal, actually, ever, for the rest of your life."

Regulus's whole face was burning red now, and he playfully shoved James away. "Let's start with dinner, yeah?"

"Yeah," James agreed. He smiled at his lovely boyfriend. "Anything you want."

[rainbow-arrow]

sometimes i see interpretations of characters and it's so far removed from the base media, like. i don't think you even like that character anymore. just make your own

[laurellala-comics]

Fun fact! This was the real tipping point that made Edgeworth run away after AA1, they just couldn't show it on screen because they didn't have the rights to Chappell Roan's music <3

(A spiritual successor to my "Hot to Go" joke from this post. Image description under the cut below)

[Image ID: a four page black and white comic of characters from ace attorney.

The Judge stands solemnly at his podium holding a gavel "Mr. Miles Edgeworth, you are on trial for the murder of blah blah blah..."

A cheerful Maya Fey leans over to Miles Edgeworth, who is staring straight ahead and looking very concerned

Maya: "Psst! Mr. Edgeworth! If you win your trial, can I show you Chappell Roan?

Miles: "What the hell, sure." Internally he thinks "Oh God I am going to jail"

A box saying "later" in the top corner of the next panel marks the passage of time.

The Judge smiles as he says "I declare you... Not Guilty!"

We see a full body shot of Maya dancing excitedly while Miles looks on, emotionless

Maya: YIPPEE omg you're going to LOVE this

Miles internally thinks "oh no, the consequences of my actions.

We see Miles standing in between Phoenix Wright and Maya looking apprehensive. Maya beams in excitement, while Nick puts a reassuring hand on Miles' shoulder

Miles: Alright, so what is this exactly?

Nick: She's a pop musician Maya really likes

Maya: You promised you'd let me show you, and it's legally binding because you said it in a court room!

Miles: That is not how the law works Ms. Fey

Maya: Shh just listen!

We see a panel of Miles' pensive face concentrating as he listens to "Hot to Go". He thinks to himself "hm".

Another panel zoomed in more. His pensive expression has grown more tense/confused as he listens to "Red Wine Supernova". he again thinks to himself "Hm" in a larger thought bubble.

We zoom out again to see Nick, Miles, and Maya standing together again. Miles stares forward blankly, eyebrows raised. Maya excitedly leans in.

Maya: Ok, that's her whole discography. So! What did you think?

Nick looks at him, waiting for his response

We get a panel of Miles, looking bewildered. He starts to speak "I..."

We cut again to see the three of them standing together.

Miles: I... don't think I like women?

Miles looks shocked and confused. Nick is bent over laughing, using a hand on Miles's shoulder to support himself. Maya looks outraged and appalled!

Maya: MR. EDGEWORTH! Just because you don' like her musi it doesn't give you an excuse to be sexist!

We see a panel of Miles looking stressed and confused. He leans his head on one of his hands, which messes up his hair, showing how he isn't his normal put together self.

Miles: I should rephrase that. What I mean is, Ms. Roan is clearly VERY assured in her feelings towards women. I was... unaware that anyone felt that strongly. I thought we all viewed these things with a vague sense of distaste and unease but collectively ignored it. Like how we do with climate change.

We zoom out again to see the three of them. Miles stands in the middle looking deeply uncomfortable and lost in thought, vibrating with unease. Nick and Maya exchange deeply concerned glances across from him.

With lingering unease, Miles begins to walk away.

Miles: Well, I should be going then. Goodnight.

Nick hesitantly raises a finger to point out an inaccuracy in that statement

Nick: It's four in the afternoon-

he gets interrupted by Miles who repeats firmly: I said Goodnight

Nick looks in the direction Miles walked off in.

Nick: ...He'll be ok, right?

Maya reassures him: Of cours Nick! I mean, what's the worst that can happen?

Jump cut to a closeup of Nick's hand holding Miles' letter which reads Miles Edgeworth chooses death in all caps. Then, below in smaller font, it says Also femininomenon was really good, thanks.

We see a panel of Nick glaring wordlessly at Maya as he holds the letter in his hand. Maya leans against the wall and looks away, whistling, trying to look innocent to avoid blame.

As a bonus, we also have a page that takes place a year later. Miles and Nick stand talking. Miles looks calmer now, and Nick smiles encouragingly.

Miles: In my time in Europe, I've been examining myself and my approach to law. Ultimately, the most important focus must be justice. We owe it to ourselves and to the people we serve

Nick: Wow, that's really inspiring Edgeworth. And, uh, hows the... the other thing going?

We get a zoomed in panel of Miles glaring menacingly at a suddenly nervous Nick

Jumping out again, Miles turns his back to Nick as he continues to talk

Miles: So as I was saying, justice is truly so important...

Nick nervously rubs the back of his neck wearing an awkward expression as he sweats nervously. He thinks to himself internally "Ooookay then, clearly still working through some things there"

/.End ID]

[sheeezu]

the stakes are high, hm? you think I care if you're triggered ass blocks me? that's one less mole over here, for me. Besides, perhaps you're so desperate for my attention to shed light over your ignorance you reached in my asks? poor snowflake, i actually wasn't being rude, but now i will be. I will humiliate you, publicly, with malicious intent, because you're totally requesting it.

firstly, spirituality isn't gatekept. But when people misappropriate it, I think it is my responsibility to comment on it, since, you seem to possess the superior right of commenting on what other people do in their personal drs. Shifting, spirituality, has nothing to do with physicality, you try hard monk. this religion has flourished in my land. my country. it teaches a lesson of acceptance and the all the concepts completely flew over your mind when you "tehe, im so special, i pray to deities". Ever heard of reincarnation? it is that we're born in other bodies after every lifetime, reincarnation isn't specific to one race, is it? you can be born as anyone. if you love your ancestors very much, good for you. I also adore my ancestors, who've developed the concept you've chosen to play dress up in, in your words. Karma is not personified. Karma is not a guidebook; it has it's own rules of it's own person. Your stupid karma-inducing race changing, will only affect you. Karma is aided in finding release and freedom from rebirth cycles. That's it job. That's it's purpose. Karma won't trip you just because you lied in the morning. When Karma is accumulated at the end of a lifetime, you will be reborn, to another physical body, which you shall hope it's your own ancestor's race, since you might have to be killed on the spot with how much negative karma you awarded yourself. you're so stuck up in your own delusional little world, thinking you're somehow greater than everyone to come on here like you're cosplaying some philosopher. (that's where the peasant argument comes from; you're a little slow so i thought i'd mention) Behind the curtains of your own words, there's a sense of shame and embarrassment reeking off them. Your guts are gone off to chew grass like the cow you are since you don't have the power of confrontation. that's not an example of a spiritual person, it's a sign you're lacking all factors of dignity and of course, most importantly, knowledge, intelligence, required to debate. you're not making a statement, you're not being superior, you're genuinely being an ignorant dumbass. Of course, you're blind and deaf brain and the rusted cogs in your thought processing can't possibly assess just how much you fucked up in terms of proving a point, it's like a transmission on a tv where you're airing out your stupidity. I don't know who the hell you are, by the way. Please proceed to fall into a pit of a spiritual insomnia, you're not awakened, but you're trying hard. I'll praise you for trying. I understand spirituality is trending these days and you want to get into it.

oh and, the likes you've accumulated, better thank me for giving traction to your post.

I love being spiritual and also a shifter, not only do I learn things from shifting but I also get to continue learning things from my spirit guides or the deities I’m connected with.

Like race changing, I’ve talked about it with my spirit guides and deities many times over and knowing that a lot of y’all are gonna get karma for it, thinking you aren’t doing anything wrong brings me the greatest satisfaction.

It honestly should be common sense that race changing is wrong but y’all love to use this beautiful knowledge we were given as a loophole to just be disrespectful and do what you want thinking there aren’t any repercussions.

anyways I just wanted to rant about that since I saw some people still thinking race changing is ok just bc they don’t understand the depths of it. if anyone is open to learning more about this I’d be happy to talk about it as long as you’re nice, open minded and not some ignorant ass.

good day.