#women lawyer

[heather--moors]

espresso

[melomancy]

Kate Bush performing ‘Hounds of Love’ at the Brit Awards (1986)

[placeboelysium]

Elizabeth talks about wanting to "get out of these rags" in game so I wanted to draw her in a suit

I really like how this one came out

Some others:

[queerism1969]

[sunfyredefender77]

[fyblackwomenart]

"The Cool Down" by MJ Lindo-Lawyer

[kdr4ma]

K-Drama Posters re-imagined (part 4/ Part 1, 2, 3)

(Digital Prints available x)

[artbyramen]

[wo8ngs]

⟢　　﹒ 　　CASE OF THE FIRST DAY JITTERS ..　۫　　◞

synopsis ⤷ first days can always be just a bit nerve-wracking, especially when you're interning at one of the most prestigious law firms in america. but why should you have nerves when only a few were even chosen for an interview, especially when you were the perfect fit? wait, you're interning at wong & associates, under THE ada wong? it's not like she could scrutinize your every move, right? wrong.

pairing: intern!reader x lawyer!ada wong

you were the perfect fit for the job, how could you not be?

you were at the top of all your classes. you have never missed a deadline—your ambition won’t allow it. you were always the first one to arrive and the last one to leave the building, and you push yourself past your limit because, for you, anything less than perfection is not good enough.

and if it wasn’t enough to just have the grades and the best recommendations from former professors and co-workers—you had to prove yourself. ada wong herself, famously known for her ruthlessness and high standards, personally interviewed you. she wanted to see the drive behind the résumé, to make sure you weren’t just another ambitious intern, but someone with the precision and dedication to match her own.

you impressed her, of course. how could you not? after all, you weren't just another candidate—you were the ideal one. you were the perfect fit for the role.

but now, as you stand in front of the mirror, clad in your signature mary janes, knee socks, and black mini-skirt, a wave of nerves wash over you. you can’t shake that fluttering anxiety in your stomach, as you adjust your hair for the tenth time. the reflection staring back at you looks polished to perfection, and put together, yet you can’t help but feel the weight of expectations pressing down on your shoulders.

what if you trip on your way in? what if your voice wavers during the morning brief? are you even supposed to talk as the intern on your first day? the very thought of it sends a shiver down your spine. you remind yourself of all the hours spent studying, the late nights you sacrificed, and that determination of yours that had brought you to the position you saw yourself in today. yet, standing there, it feels like its all on hinges on this moment, on how you present yourself. because, first impressions matter.

as you take a deep breath and straighten your shoulders, you force a smile at yourself through the mirror. you know you’re more than capable; you’ve earned this opportunity. but the nerves are relentless, the doubts still stuck in the forefront of your mind.

‘what if you’re not good enough?’

‘what if they think i’m inexperienced?’

‘what if they judge me before i even get a chance to prove myself?’

‘what if—?’

as soon as you blink, you’re standing in the large building at the top floor where ‘wong & associates’ is located. the moment you step through the glass doors, the energy of the office instantly envelops you. people are moving around the open space, files clutched in their hands, their eyes focused on the task at hand. the rhythmic clicking of keyboard fills in the air.

the scent of coffee waffs through the air, mingling with the subtle hum of conversations and the sound of printers whirring. it feels like one of those well-oiled machines, and it makes you feel intimidated to be apart of it.

you take a moment to soak it all in, feeling both exhilarated and overwhelmed at the same time. as you adjust your grip on your notebook, you can’t help but feel that flutter of nerves coming back in your stomach. you glance around, spotting a few familiar faces from your interview, their expressions serious and focused as they navigate their tasks.

suddenly, the door to ada’s office swings open, a young women stepping out of it, her expression one of clear distress. her brow is furrowed, and her lips press into a tight line, as if her emotions were rolling off of the surface. she glances over her shoulder, as if expecting ada to follow her with more criticism or a command, before hastily making her way back to her desk. her movements are frantic, a stark contrast to the usual composed demeanor expected in this office. papers flutter from her hands as she rushes, and you can’t help but notice the way her shoulders tense with each step.

and then ada emerges behind her, the door clicking shut with a sense of finality. her face is cold and unreadable, her sharp features set in a stoic expression that rarely ever reveals any hint of emotion. she surveys the scene, her eyes narrowing as she scans the bustling office floor.

you can’t help but feel a chill run down your spine as you observe her demeanor.

she's a force to be reckoned with, and everyone knows it.

with her hands resting firmly on her hips, ada stands tall and imposing. there’s tension in the room, a silent acknowledgment of the pressure that comes with working under someone like ada. her gaze remains steady and piercing, as if she’s assessing not only the situation but the very people involved. you can sense the unease that settles over the office as colleagues glance furtively at each other, trying to gauge ada’s reaction.

from your vantage point by the front door, you can’t help but feel a little bad for the women who had exited the office. the tension is almost tangible, a thick fog of anxiety that hangs in the air. you watch as the young woman attempts to collect herself, desperately shuffling through her papers in a bid to regain some semblance of control, her hands trembling slightly.

ada’s sharp eyes finally catch sight of you standing near the entrance, and she squints, scrutinizing your presence. the moment stretches, and you feel your heart race under her gaze, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable.

were you already making a bad impression? especially on the person who is your boss?

her expression shifts slightly, though it remains inscrutable, and you can’t quite tell if she’s annoyed by your presence or simply assessing who you are.

you feel like you’re going to be sick. ada’s gaze remains locked on you as she begins to make her way over, each step purposeful and measured.

the rhythm of her heels clicking against the polished floor resonates through the office. colleagues momentarily pause their conversations, glancing up as she approaches. everyone was in understanding that ada’s presence isn’t something to be taken lightly.

as she closes the distance between you, her expression shifts from one of cold assessment to something more nuanced. her eyes, sharp and calculating, scan your face, searching for any signs of weakness or uncertainty. you can feel your heart rate quicken under her scrutiny.

when she finally reaches you, ada pauses for a moment, her gaze unwavering, as if she’s trying to gauge your reaction to her proximity. you can’t help but feel small under her scrutiny, like a deer caught in headlights.

"are you lost?" she asks.

the question is blunt, cutting through the tension in the air, leaving no room for ambiguity. it was as if she’s daring you to prove your worth in this high-stakes environment. there’s an intensity in her gaze that makes you acutely aware of every detail—how you stand, how you respond, and what you choose to say.

because be careful with what you say.

you’re about to say something, but you feel an unexpected tightness in your throat. the words you rehearsed in your mind suddenly seem to vanish, leaving you with a jumble of thoughts that struggle to break free. you open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a slight stutter, a nervous breath that does nothing to convey the impression you wish to convey.

ada tilts her head slightly, her eyes narrowing just a bit, as if she’s peeling back the layers of your hesitation, trying to read what lies beneath your thoughts. the silence stretches between you, heavy and almost palpable, and you can feel your cheeks warm under her unwavering gaze. it’s as if time has slowed down, and the bustling office around you fades into a distant hum.

why was nothing coming out? you were desperate to articulate your thoughts while grappling with the overwhelming presence of the woman standing in front of you. you can see the slight twitch at the corner of ada’s mouth, a hint of amusement there, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. she remains steadfast, as she waits for you to gather your thoughts.

“um... i—” you begin, but the syllables falter before they can fully form. and in this moment, all you can do is clear your throat, willing yourself to sound more assured, but the sound only serves to amplify your nervousness.

before you can even finish constructing a full sentence, ada nods slightly, her expression shifting as if she’s already processed everything she needs to know from your brief attempt at a response. there’s an almost imperceptible spark of recognition in her eyes, as if she’s made a mental note about you—your hesitation, your ambition, the way you stand beneath her scrutiny. in that moment, you realize she’s not just assessing your words; she’s evaluating your potential.

with a smooth, authoritative motion, ada turns her attention away from you and calls out to the project manager, “jenna,” she says, her tone firm yet clear, slicing through the office chatter. you watch as a woman in her mid-thirties, dressed in a tailored suit that mirrors ada’s own style, glances up from her desk, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“come here for a moment,” ada instructs, and jenna rises to her feet, striding over with a confident gait that reflects her own position of authority. as she approaches, you can feel the tension in the air shift again, this time mingled with a sense of anticipation. you can’t help but feel the weight of ada’s gaze shifting back to you, her once again expression unreadable.

“this is the intern i mentioned,” ada states matter-of-factly, gesturing toward you with a flick of her wrist. “she’ll be working for me this fall term.” the way she introduces you carries a weight that sends a shiver down your spine; her words like a seal-of-approval. the significance of that statement sinks in, and you feel a rush of pride mixed with anxiety at the prospect of working under such a formidable figure.

THE ada wong.

jenna turns to you, her demeanor warm yet professional, and offers a friendly smile. “nice to meet you! i’ve heard great things about you already,” she says, extending her hand in greeting. as you shake jenna’s hand, as ada watches closely, her eyes assessing your response.

ada’s gaze shifts from jenna back to you, and she takes a moment to eye you up and down, slow and deliberate. her expression is inscrutable, making it hard to gauge what she’s thinking as she appraises every detail—from the way you stand to the way you’re dressed in your carefully chosen outfit. you can feel the weight of her scrutiny; it’s both intimidating and oddly exhilarating, making your heart race.

after a moment that stretches on for what feels like an eternity, ada finally breaks her inspection and turns on her heel, striding confidently back toward her office. the click of her heels against the polished floor resonates in the now-quiet space as she moves away. you can’t help but watch her, captivated.

as she reaches the threshold of her office, she pauses and glances over her shoulder one last time, her piercing gaze locking onto yours. there’s something almost inscrutable in her expression—perhaps it’s approval, or maybe it’s a silent warning to stay on your toes. you can feel your breath catch in your throat again.

with a slight tilt of her head, she seems to convey a message that says;

‘i’m watching you’.

then, in one fluid motion, she steps into her office and closes the door behind her. the click of the latch resonates in the stillness of the hallway. the sound reverberates through you, a reminder of her presence even as she disappears from view.

in ada’s own kind of way, she had acknowledged you on the first day of your orientation. and that doesn’t happen to a lot of interns on their first day.

consider yourself grateful, intern. your new internship is going to be interesting, to say the least.

© wo8ngs / do not repost, copy, steal, etc., any of my work and claim it as your own.

[sophsicle]

i know i have a problem, because i'm sitting here doing my course readings like "you know what we need? a french revolution au"

[book--wyrm]

also it is wildly funny to me that Sal Maroni has apparently been such a simp for Nadia that he's replaced most of his italian mob with persians. unironically the most based male mobster in HBO penguin

[ladyantiheroine]

“God forbid women have hobbies!”

[scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde]

I've said it before, I'll say it again, and I'm sure it won't be the last time. I AM SICK AND BLOODY TIRED OF THESE MFS, HALF OF WHO DONT EVEN CARE ABOUT CURSED CHILD, BITCHING AND MOANING ABOUT AN ANGSTY TEEN DARING TO BE AN ANGSTY TEEN, I WILL FIGHT THE LOT OF YOU

(this is gonna be a bit long and probably incoherent so sit down and fucking listen to me 🔫 stick with me because I'm not just complaining about albus haters)

eVERYBODY wants cOoMmpllEeXx relatable HUMAN characters - and then SHIT themselves when the flaws a CHILD has isn't just 🥺 uwu im socially awkward and traumatised 🥺. that's why scorpius doesn't get this fuckass treatment, because his terrible human flaw is that he's a bit shit at conversation and gets sad about his dead mum (generalised understatement, but this post isnt about him. dont come for me i love him 🫶🏻)

god forbid albus, who feels unloved and unwanted (with valid evidence for a teenager), albus who feels completely out of place and outcast from his entire famously-close-knit family, ablus who is well known by the world by default via Harry and hates the attention and high expectations, albus who then gets targeted and bullied by his peers because he's not as perfect and brilliant as his father, albus who is then isolated from his one friend because Harry is making irrational ptsd fueled decisions, albus who tells Harry completely sincerely that he knows he's unlikeable but he'll try and change himself and be more like his siblings because he genuinely believes that's what Harry and everyone else whos had the misfortune of meeting him wants, albus who spends the entire play trying to prove himself and fix things via idiotic childish decisions BECAUSE HES A WHOLE UNSTABLE CHILD

god forbid that CHILD doesn't react like a patient, supported, well adjusted, level headed adult. god forbid he reacts outwardly. god forbid he reacts at all, my bad. clearly he should just sniffle a bit as if he doesn't feel suffocated and helpless by everything in his life, because obviously hes just a spoiled brat who doesn't know what real suffering is. god forbid he complains or feels anything negatively, or doesn't quite grasp that other people are struggling too because he is too busy trying so hard to deal with himself and his declining mental health the best he can with basically no support or understanding. god forbid he isn't completely perfect.

you all sound like some fucking boomer telling teenagers they don't know what real struggling is, they aren't mentally ill, they dont have any problems because they have a roof over their head, they should all go to war kids are too soft these days 😫😖😱 fUCKING‼️SHUT UP‼️

he does things wrong but he knows he does and he does everything he can to fix it! and he is fourteen!!! do none of you remember what being fourteen is like 😭😭 I swear half of you have got to be basically fourteen yourselves cmon man

cause I'm seeing this fucking pattern a lot recently. not just for albus, not just in this fandom, everywhere. ‼️ no one can fucking handle flawed characters anymore ‼️ the only thing any character is allowed to have wrong with them is trauma apparently, otherwise they have to be perfect, and I'm getting sick of it. characters and stories are meant to reflect real life, they're meant to help shape our world view, why are you expecting everyone to be fucking perfect??? what happened to nuance? what happened to understanding character development? you are all acting like characters and people are so black and white. either they're perfect or they're insufferable and evil. I won't lie, the most common victims i've noticed of this are women. but the flawed women are typically demonised, whereas the men are typically turned into uwu baby boys who actually aren't capable of doing anything wrong and then fanon goes nuts making them into ittle wittle victims. and I'm so fucking sick of all of it, I hate this. (obviously this is not a strict rule. Albus Potter, and also Albus Dumbledore now I mention it, are demonised beyond belief)

BRING BACK FLAWS AND BRING BACK NOT COMPLETELY WRITING OFF A CHARACTER BECAUSE THEY DARE TO BE HUMAN

I AM FED UP, ALBUS POTTER GET BEHIND ME

[3-aem]

im bored of animal crossing will be drawing gj again will be mental illness-ing once more.

[vyeoh]

I'm rewatching all the Marvel Defenders shows on Netflix and as much as I mock the MCU now, I need non-Marvel fans to understand that I was and still am a fan of "Daredevil fighting the gentrifying assshole who bought out the police force because ACAB both as a lawyer and vigilante of the community" and "Jessica Jones fighting the man who mind controlled her into doing unspeakable things and forming a community of fellow survivors and allies while dealing with PTSD in a range of both healthy and unhealthy ways" Marvel. God I love these idiots they carried so hard

[riesenfeldcenter]

Happy Women's History Month! To kick off March, here is a photo from our archives of the first three women to graduate from the University of Minnesota Law School in 1893. Flora, pictured on the right, was the first woman to begin classes at the law school in 1890.

Left to right: Marie A. McDermott, Nora L. Morton, Flora E. Matteson