#the lawyers are bugged

[probablyaseamonster]

Oh, it's pride month today?

Sorry, I was focusing on how something really bad happened irl at 1 AM on June 1st by coincidence and I might be falsely imprisoned. Like legit, prison. Or the psyche ward. *it's one of the bad ones*

Sorry about the bad news folks. Super excited for pride month, obviously, as a bisexual asexual possibly nonbinary girl, wish I could celebrate it irl but the internet is better anyways! Please don't get me wrong I am not homophobic (I genuinely do need to say this I have been crucified on a number of occasions, sorry if you're offended or you think I think you're stupid. I am also a human being please.).

Also the only reason I'm asking here is because everyone who's in a position to help me has decided to gaslight for fun so I'm putting my voice here where it might actually be heard- tell my story pls ok goodbye *hurriedly shuts off audio recording/unwanting*

[feliformiaboy]

[anachronistic-falsehood]

collection of things that make me think of rolan deep

[lunar-lumi]

i think something’s wrong with my lawyer

[ahsoka-in-a-hood]

I'm always a bit surprised when I see hate for Shaak Ti based on her "Republic property" line like it's some kind of slam dunk statement of her views... have you guys seriously never had to speak someone else's language before? I'm not even trying to comment on her motives or beliefs here- but whether you read her as advocating for Fives or not, if she was 100% unambiguously advocating for Fives there that would still have been the right thing to say to the Kaminoans to get custody of him.

[waltzing-rats]

WrightWorth is sooooo ‘More than words’ by Extreme coded y’all im not even being silly. Take the cat ears off, this is important, it’s classic rock and it’s literally about valuing actions more than words and i HRHHHHHHHH OHHHHHHH

[jusst-you-race]

gewis + 38 please☺️

okay it took me a couple days to get around to this sorry! hope you enjoy some law school awkward gewis <3 from this prompt list! (happy for more requests now that I have time for them)

“I like your laugh.”

George hastily scoops up his belongings as Toto dismisses them. He shoves his notebook and laptop into his bag, wincing at himself at the haphazard way they jostle around, and then hurries to the front of the lecture hall using all the elbow he feels he can get away with before people think he’s rude. Even so slightly out of breath he stops in front of the lecturer.

“Toto. I just had a question about that decision you told us to read for next class. I was having trouble finding it so I’m not sure I took the reference down correctly, can I just double check it?”

Toto smiles at him apologetically before he swings his bag over his shoulder.

“Sorry, George, I have to run. Lewis should be able to help with that though.” And with that he sweeps out of the lecture hall, leaving George at the mercy of his TA.

Lewis has already been slightly swarmed by other students asking questions, most of which George assumes aren’t actual questions and just desperate bids for Lewis’ attention. 

Normally George avoids asking Lewis his questions; it’s just easier to go to Toto when everyone else is wary of their lecturer and desperate to talk to the TA. And, though George is loath to admit it, he does also think Lewis is the most beautiful man he’s seen. George isn’t great at talking to beautiful men. But, his studies are important to him, so he swallows down the vague butterflies in his stomach (and internally bemoans their existence) and loiters around the edges of the slowly thinning crowd around Lewis. 

Eventually, everyone else has had their questions patiently answered, and Lewis turns his gap toothed smile on George. George smiles awkwardly back. 

“How can I help, George?” 

Heat rises in his cheeks at the revelation that Lewis knows his name. George swallows.

“I just wanted to double check the reference for the decision Toto wants us to read. I couldn’t find it, so I must have noted it down wrong.” 

Lewis smiles kindly at him before flipping through his own notes. He makes a soft noise, and holds out a piece of paper pointing to a line.

“Here, is this the one you meant?” 

George has to lean in closer to Lewis to see where he’s pointing, and it takes him a second to actually read what’s on the page, too distracted by the scent of Lewis’ cologne he can now make out. 

“Oh. I had the year wrong.” He pulls a pen out of his pocket and quickly scribbles the correct reference on the back of his hand. Lewis snorts.

“Careful with that,” he says, nodding at George’s hand when George looks up questioningly. “I once ended up with my reading imprinted on my face after a nap and no one told me for half a day.”

The image of Lewis, usually so composed and put together, walking around with pen on his face is so bizarre to George that it startles a laugh out of him before he can even try to tamp it down. Thankfully, Lewis chuckles along with him. George looks down to put his pen away and is about to thank him, when Lewis clears his throat.

“I like your laugh.” 

George’s head snaps up. There’s a mischievous glint in Lewis’ eye, but he doesn’t seem disingenuous. George feels his face start to go bright red. 

“Uh. Thanks? Um. You too.” He cringes at his own response. Lewis’ mouth quirks up in an amused (maybe even fond? George doesn’t dare read that much into it) smile. “Well,” George continues, still flustered. “I better...” He waves vaguely at the door, before awkwardly moving towards it, still half turned towards Lewis.

“See you next class, George.” 

George nods stiltedly, and then all but runs out of the room.

[strawwritesfic]

Joel x Female!Amputee!Reader: (Don't) Hold Your Breath [Ch. 4]

Summary: You’ve made a lot of monumental mistakes in your life. Cutting your arm off isn’t even at the top of the list. Now you’re about to learn a lot of life lessons at the hands of your savior and her brute of a guardian–and they’re not about to let you learn them the easy way either.

Challenge: "#32 in His Rulebook" by Edible Heart Monster on Lunaescence Archives

Rating/Warnings/Tags: M (post-The Last of Us; excessive swearing; sexual references; violence against children; infected children; references to abortion; references to cannibalism; references to starvation; references to riots; implied domestic abuse; implied grooming; implied sexual relationship between an adult and a minor; death of a parent; violence; gore; blood; gun use; ableism; amputee!Reader; enemies to lovers; not canon compliant)

Pairings/Relationships: Joel/Female!Reader; Tommy/Maria; Reader/Male!OC; Ellie & Reader; Ellie & Joel; Ellie & Maria & Tommy

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Master List (with important note!)

Rule #4: Quit Stealing Shit

“You must have had trouble if the fence is up and running again.”

If Joel had wanted to make things tenser, he certainly got his wish. The tiny table’s atmosphere, already difficult to breathe in, became suffocating. You dragged your tired eyes away from your plate to gauge everyone else’s reaction in the long moment of silence that followed his observation. Ellie remained picking at her broccoli; Maria frowned; Tommy shrugged.

“Not really,” the last answered.

“Really?” Joel shoved his empty plate away and crossed his thick arms across his chest. “Because last I heard, you didn’t have the gas stock to keep it running 24-7.”

Tommy shifted to look at Maria, but all she did was lift her eyebrows. Apparently, no help would be coming from her. He returned his gaze back to Joel.

“Last I heard, Herbert’s group was supposed to bring us some from their scavenging trip.”

“Last I heard, they were supposed to bring you infection checkers, too.” Tommy sighed. At last, Joel’s arms unwrapped. “Tommy, face it. they aren’t coming back. They took your supplies and booked it. A trip to a border city shouldn’t take a month.”

“Joel—”

“What if they come back and try to take over?”

“It’s not Herbert’s group,” Maria said.

Joel’s eyes snapped over to her as she moved her chair back several inches from the table.

“Just a renegade hunter group. Now that people know we’re established, we’re attracting attention. It’s nothing we weren’t able to handle.”

“Then what was with the fence?”

“Just in case they came back,” Tommy answered. “It hasn’t been on the last couple of times. We figured if we melted a few of their faces, they might think twice about showing up again.”

Joel regarded Maria seriously for a moment, but before he could ask any further questions, Ellie’s bright eyes caught the food remaining on your plate. “You gonna eat your meat?” she asked.

Scowling, you pushed the dinnerware at her. Then you slumped back in your chair. Giving Ellie your food was the last thing you wanted to do—you were still starving, not that that was unusual—but no one had offered to cut the fucking stuff. It was too tough to manage with a fork; your knife lay obviously untouched in front of you.

Ellie laughed as she tucked in. It looked as though Joel wasn’t finished with his previous train of thought, however.

Tommy must have noticed that, too, because he shifted his chair so that he faced you instead. “Let’s take a look at your arm.”

You thrust the stump up at his face without further ceremony. He caught it between his palms, and your eyes slid away from his face. Joel’s brother’s easy-going nature was more off-putting than Joel and Ellie put together. Besides, you didn’t want to look at the rust-colored stains seeping through the bottom edge of your bandages.

“Hm,” said Tommy. “We’ll have to do this up again to prevent any more blood loss, but I think you’ll live. Ellie, you do up this tourniquet?”

Ellie’s eyes widened. She swallowed her mouthful of your food before answering: “Sure did!”

“You learn this in class?”

She shrugged, the spitting image of her uncle, or whatever the fuck Tommy was supposed to be. You didn’t understand these people. They ate dinner around a table, with chipped plates and camping silverware, like that was somehow fucking normal.

“I read it in a book I picked up. Trying to be…” Ellie trailed away, rubbing the back of her head and looking pointedly away from Joel, whose sharp eyes were upon her. “...more useful.”

No one said anything to that. You wondered if that had anything to do with that Messiah complex of hers that Joel kept mentioning, the one that was supposed to have landed you in that tiny, suffocating room in a power plant with people you didn’t know and certainly didn’t like.

The walkie-talkie at Maria’s hip gurgled with static. She placed a hand over it without answering, but got to her feet the very next second. Ellie blinked up at her until Maria announced, “I’ve got to get going.” Then she looked back at Ellie. “And speaking of class, you’ve missed enough. You can come with me until we reach the school building.”

“But—” Ellie broke off to throw a pleading look at Joel’s direction. He gestured for her to follow Maria; Ellie’s shoulders slumped. Still, she got to her feet. Before the door swung shut behind her, you distinctly heard Ellie mutter, “Bunch of ungrateful fucks.” Joel laughed. “See you at dinner, Ellie.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

With the other two women gone, the room didn’t feel any calmer. You felt your remaining muscles tense, even when you didn’t bother to look back at Tommy or Joel. Joel laughing was the weirdest thing to happen yet. He looked just as likely to find something humorous as Maria—though even she seemed to smile a lot around Ellie. What was with that kid? Was she dying? Were they all just humoring her?

No. No one else could be that stupid.

As another stroke of pain in your missing arm coursed through you, you realized that you were still staring at the door where she had left. Much as the kid annoyed you, you had to admit you felt more displaced than ever without her there. Fuck. You hastily grabbed your glass and took a swig of lukewarm water, then asked, “You have a school?”

When you hazarded a glance upward, Tommy smiled. Joel remained scowling at you, but who the fuck cared what he thought at that point? Not you, that was for damn sure.

As seemed to be his practice, Tommy shrugged. “Nothing major. Basic writing and reading, some math. Just enough to get the kids by in the world. Ellie spent some time in a military boarding school, so she’s ahead in that respect.”

“She’d be ahead in all respects if she’d quit insisting on going on these trips,” Joel broke in. It was probably just your exhaustion talking—your vision was starting to pulse again, and it was taking quite a bit effort to keep yourself sitting up in your chair—but you thought you heard a hint of pride in his voice. “I keep telling her I can handle it—”

“—But she always says the same thing: ‘We go together.’” Tommy grinned.

Joel rolled his eyes, got to his feet, and placed his plastic cup at the end of a row of other cups. “She’s just afraid I’m gonna ditch her ass and take up smuggling again.”

“Well, you’d have a hell of a time doing it,” said Tommy.

You had been entirely forgotten. Seeing as you weren’t dying, it would be perfectly fine to just let you sit there and faint again. Probably you’d wake up on the floor. It wasn’t as though Joel gave enough of a shit to put you anywhere you’d actually want to be. While you mentally grumped about this, Tommy continued:

“Not sure how many more quarantine zones are still in effect. Speaking of, we just had a group from your old base come a few days back. You didn’t make too many bad enemies, did you?”

“None that I can’t handle.”

The corners of Tommy’s mouth twitched down, but he must not have been in the mood to bicker with his brother. He instead returned his attention back to you, clasping his hands in front of him and looking at his fingers, as though your face was unpleasant. Hell, it probably was. Bathing was a luxury you frequently weren’t afforded, and you were pretty sure you’d broken your nose in a fight a few weeks back. For all you knew, all that fucking blood remained dried across your upper lip.

“Speaking of teaching,” Tommy said, with an air of having to force the words out, “we might have you do that, if you’ve got anything worth teaching. You can’t hunt in your condition, and we can’t let you stay for free.”

“I don’t like kids,” you said mulishly. Joel hadn’t moved from over by the wall, but you saw his hands contract into fists. Hastily, you added, “I’ve done worse in exchange for room and board, though.”

“What’s that mean?” Tommy asked.

You took a leaf out of his book and shrugged in answer. The throbbing in your eyes got stronger, but you did not want either Joel or Tommy to think you were weaker than you already were. Focusing on remaining upright unfortunately left you completely open to surprise when Joel smashed his hands into the table in front of you.

“Shit!” you said, but broke away when you found his angry face only a few inches away from your nose.

“Are you a Firefly?” he growled.

“Were you ever a Firefly?”

“Fuck no, I wasn’t a Firefly!” you snapped. Though you twisted somewhat frantically in his grip, Joel didn’t let go. “Lay off!”

But Joel didn’t let go. His fingers only grew tighter around you, and tighter still. You didn’t have the strength to fight him off. One of your feet smashed into his shin, but you might as well have been made of feathers for all the effect that had. A horrible note of hysteria started to crawl up your throat, but before it could clamber out, Tommy said, quite pleasantly:

“Joel, would you kindly not hurt my guests when they aren’t actively trying to murder you?”

“Tommy, do you know why this woman doesn’t have one of her arms? Did Ellie make you aware of that little detail?”

“She did.” He inclined his head. “And, like Ellie, I’m pretty sure she would have turned by now, unless she’s immune.”

“That doesn’t make things okay.”

“Joel.”

With something that sounded very like a snarl, Joel released you, threw his hands into the air, and then stalked back over to the cups. “You and Ellie are going to be the fucking end of me.”

“She already was,” said Tommy.

Meanwhile, your vision had practically gone. Struggle as you might have, you just couldn’t remain sitting up straight. Through the fog, you saw Tommy’s head turn back to you.

“Now, I know you’re probably tired—”

“Figured that out, have you?” you asked, voice raspy. Dammit. At this rate, Joel was going to have the last laugh.

“Yes, I suppose I have. We’ll get you to a room here in a minute, and you can take a nap. No need to worry about your job or station today. But before you go, I’m going to need your name.”

“None of your fucking business.”

“We need something to go by,” he insisted. “And even if you are a Firefly, it’s not as though we have a stash of medals to check. Now, if you don’t give me your name, I suppose I’ll have to do as Joel suggested and lock you up until we have a better idea of who you are.”

So they weren’t going to lock you up either way? What a bunch of fucking morons. What if you were with that group they talked about earlier? What if you were a Trojan horse? But you were too tired to fuck around with them. All you wanted to do was curl up somewhere away from Joel and Ellie and sleep.

“[Name],” you said shortly.

“Family name?” Joel growled. You summoned up enough energy to glare straight across the room at him.

“Hasn’t mattered in fifteen years,” you said. “Can’t imagine why it’d matter now.”

“You—”

Tommy lifted a hand. “Maria and I are the ones running this joint, Joel. A first name’s good enough for me.”

The sound of his chair scraping against the concrete floor jolted you enough awake to get to your own feet. Standing was difficult, but not impossible, and no way in hell were you going to let Joel see anyone else carrying you or otherwise offering support. You shot him a defiant glare, then followed Tommy out of the room. Joel’s footsteps sounded behind you shortly after; you made the decision to pointedly ignore him. Getting an idea of your surroundings would benefit you better than giving him the time of day anyhow. You only caught snatches of conversation from the two of them, most following the same subject:

“You know, if you hate Ellie following you out there—”

“I don’t.”

After leading you outside for a short walk, Tommy ducked into another building, and you followed suit. Grated windows lit the gray walls every so often. Several doors led off to what you could only assume were other rooms. Busted cabinets and drawers littered the way; several times Tommy had to shove past them. As you passed one such cabinet, you caught a glimpse of a pair of familiar handles. It occurred to you that Ellie had taken both your pistol and her knife with her when she and Maria had left.

You feigned a stumble, snatched the scissors, and slid them into the pocket of your jacket. The shaking as you righted yourself was completely natural, and had Tommy looked at you with worry in his eyes.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” you said, but a moment later, Joel’s hand was on your shoulder again, pushing you into the wall.

“Give it back,” he snarled.

“Give what back?” you asked.

“Don’t play fucking stupid with me.”

“I didn’t do—”

But his fingers slid into your pocket to wrench out your newly-acquired weapon. His eyes looked pointedly at the scissors, then at you. If you hadn’t been so worried he was going to punch your face in, you would have shoved your own hands sullenly into both of your pockets. With a scoff, Joel threw the scissors back into the drawer.

“Quit stealing shit,” he said. “That ain’t yours. Nothing here is yours.”

“It’s just a pair of fucking scissors,” you shouted as he released and wandered back up the hall the way your trio had been headed. “You want me to run around with absolutely no way to defending myself?”

“If it’d get you outta my hair quicker.”

He wasn’t looking—no doubt he had some idea of your intentions anyway—so you took the scissors back before scuttling after him. Tommy watched you all the while. It was his fucking settlement. If he didn’t care, why the fuck should Joel? Maybe that explained the extremely dour look Joel threw him when you caught up to them.

Tommy didn’t say anything about your so-called theft. He reached past you to turn the knob on a nearby door. Inside lay a dark, drank room taken up mostly by something that must have helped power the plant in its heyday. Several musty, moth-eaten blankets and a smashed pillow were jammed up on a cement slab beside the boxy equipment. Only you stepped in; there wasn’t enough room for anyone else.

“You can stay in here,” Tommy said from behind you. “We’ll have Ell—We’ll have someone come get you when it’s time for dinner. We’ll be eating as a community. Maybe you’ll find someone you know.”

“That would be fucking fantastic.” You could hardly muster up the appropriate sarcasm.

Tommy let out a dry chuckle. “Now where have I heard that before?”

“Don’t start, Tommy,” said Joel.

You turned back and flipped him the bird before setting your bag down and walking over to the bed. A nap seemed very much in order.

“You’re welcome,” Joel said. Huh. Maybe Ellie was his daughter.

You flipped him off a second time without looking. “Fuckin’ A, man.”

When Tommy shut the door, you got the feeling it was to hide you from view as quickly as possible.

[alanshee-keeper-of-realms]

Someone: Have you no shame?

Me: My shame went out the window the moment I started writing Disney and Looney Tunes Fanfic

[lucky-numberme]

omg remember everyone's favorite existential ensemble comedy show about being trapped in the body of a foosball player by a witch??

based off a demo from @jammechanics by @bughuntermusic

[ch703-c4rt00nst4r]

Did that hurt? But it's Smg4 Villains

[its-a-beautful-day]

A donation doodle for Bea! Thank you so much for supporting me and helping raise funds to help get me back on my feet 💖

Request a doodle by donating +$10 here!

[vanillashusband]

since almond's chapter is nearly done, I decided to draw up our second daughter, Pecan Pie Cookie! She's an energetic reporter/journalist that runs her own newspaper in parfaedia

🧡TAGLIST: @selfshippinglover @sunstar-of-the-north @tulaytullahs @honeycombscereal

[raetheworm]

Guess who just finished watching bitb!!! (spoiler: it was me and now I’m traumatized)) anyway I love my silly bug babygirl Rolan Deep <3333

[get-back-homeward]

David Jacobs, the suave and arrogant showbiz lawyer whose clients included The Beatles, Marlene Dietrich, Liberace and Judy Garland and who introduced Epstein to the gay scene in the capital was also a key player. Bullock calls it a “support network for the entertainment industry”. They needed it. While success brought money, attention and a certain freedom from the mores of contemporary society, it also caused problems.

Until the Sexual Offences Act of 1967 legalised homosexual acts between consenting adults over the age of 21, gay men had been confined to a crepuscular demi-monde and were confronted with a rise in prosecutions and several ‘sensational’ court cases well into the 1960s that had served to keep them in the closet rather than face misguided public opprobrium, the attention of the police and, frequently, blackmail.

The business uniform of single-breasted sharp suit and thin tie might have still ruled the roost but as the 1960s started to get underway, the author points out, “We really see people starting to come out of their shells and being a bit more flamboyant and less guarded in what they’re doing. People are kind of realising that within entertainment, and particularly rock and pop, you can probably get away with a little bit more”.

In other words, there was lots of sex and drugs to go with the rock n roll for successful gay men in the business and that necessarily meant existing within a network of people you could trust. “Certainly, there were parties at Brian Epstein’s house where he would just invite anyone around who he thought would be interesting and fun and just let them carry on while he would pick out who he fancied and take them off to another room,” says Bullock. “There was a certain amount of you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours in business terms but there was also a feeling that it was also much easier to play in that way, to host parties for this kind of network and for the people this network knew in a place where you were not likely to be arrested, not going to get busted or have the press hammering at your door.

“David Jacobs was always being asked to come and get people out of sticky situations,” explains Bullock. “Brian was blackmailed several times, often by the same ex-boyfriend… including on one occasion when this guy made off with some of the takings from the Beatles’ Candlestick Park gig in San Francisco and some pills, private papers and photographs before demanding $10,000 for their safe return. Blackmail was going on so often, they got used to having to pay-off people to shut them up but when you have so much money lying around I guess it’s not that much of an issue and certainly paying off the occasional blackmailer has got to be better than going to a club and being caught out and having your name splashed all over the newspapers.”

From “The Network of Gay Men at the Heart of Britain’s Pop Culture Revolution” by Bill Barrows on the release of Darryl W. Bullock’s The Velvet Mafia book | photo credit: Scott K. Runyen [x]

[aptericia]

I still can't get over the fact that ace attorney has a Coerce mechanic