#also isn't he still legally dead

[buffskeleton]

wait what happened to cas' wife. does she literally ever come up again after her husband of three months vanished without a trace

[lunaraindrop]

We Are Not The Kissing Space Twins

Fic by lunaraindrop

Now with an actual title!

Steve didn’t know how to feel. He was just...numb. He left his house as if in a daze. The lasagna his mom tried to say was homemade, but he knew was secretly from Enzo's sat funny in his stomach.

His mom.

Legally, she was still his mother. Has been since the day after he was born.

His dad, too.

Legally, Steve was a Harrington.

He drove the Beemer aimlessly, until he came to a familiar trailer.

He knocked on the rickety door, silently kicking himself for not calling ahead to make sure he didn't disturb Wayne's sleep.

It was too late for that, though. Eddie opened the door. "Stevie! I thought you had that thing with your parents! I wasn't expecting..." The exuberant words of his friend trailed off and melted into a concerned silence. The man open the door widely and wedged his way through the doorway to put his arm around Steve's shoulders. He guided him to the couch, and sat both of them down in a clump.

"Steve, what happened?"

And Steve, so unsure how to feel about this situation, burst out an awkward laugh, even as tears gathered at the corners of his eyes.

"I'm apparently adopted? My biological mother is my mom's dead sister."

Eddie's eyes grew nearly to the size of dinner plates. "What?"

Steve turned to him, wild eyes and bitchy. "Yes! See? They acted like it was no big deal! 'Oh, Steven. It's time you knew that your father couldn't have children. We decided to adopt you when my sister died in that car accident. Please pass the peas.' Like, what the fuck do I do with that?!"

Eddie nodded to himself. "She died, and then they adopted you?"

The tears welled in his eyes. "She died while she was still pregnant! I was a premie. Since I was a boy, dad-Richard decided this was a 'prime opportunity' to have the Harrington name live on', or some shit."

Eddie held his friend close, then offered to get him a beer. They silently sipped from the bottles. Eddie could tell something else was weighing on Steve's mind, and knew he needed to give the guy a few moments to find the right words.

He wasn't disappointed.

"You know, Eds. That isn't even the worst of it?"

Not disappointed, but certainly surprised. "It gets worse that your parents never told you that you were adopted, and your birth mother is actually your deceased aunt?"

Steve nodded before taking a large pull. "Uh, yeah. Apparently, I'm also a twin."

Eddie nearly dropped his bottle. "A-a twin? A twin! There's two of you out there?"

That actually earned him a rueful smile. "I have a twin *sister*, dumbass."

Eddie nodded in what he pretended to in a sage way. "Yes, that makes sense. The world could not survive the charm and hair of two Steve's. That's like having two suns. We would not survive!"

Tension lifting for just a second, Steve playfully shoved his secret crush, blushing just a little.

"Ha ha. But speaking of the charm...what if I'm like Luke Skywalker?"

Eddie furrowed his brows. "How'd you mean?"

Steve flexed his hand in his lamp, staring at the other boy with fear. "I've dated a lot of girls, Eddie. What if...what if I've kissed my sister?!"

Eddie reared back. "Oh! Eww! Steve, why?!"

Steve flailed. "It's a valid concern!"

Grasping at straws to wipe *that* thought from the boy he love's face, he blurted out, "Maybe your secret twin is a lesbian?"

Part 2

[dio-niisio]

(English is not my first language, so please ignore any mistakes! :-))

Ok I've been imagining a scenario that for some reason Martha and Thomas Wayne are brought back from the dead...

One day they are dead and the other they are starting at their graves, reading their names and being very confused.

Alfred probably finds them first, he looks out the window and sees two people standing in the family cemetery, Wayne Manor had problems in the past with grave robbers, and he would be damned if he let that happen with their grave. So poor Alfred runs, grabbing some old shovel on the way (just to scare, not to harm!), ready to give an ear full on these people. That's when he sees. His friends.

He's surprised to say the least. They don't look young, the years they were gone caught up to them. Thomas has mostly grey hair and Martha had a white strip of hair right in the top of her head...

Alfred doesn't know what to do, so he brings them inside. And starts to prepare some tea while he tries to explain the past 30 something years.

The next person who sees them is Dick, he smelled the tea and was going to get a cup, then he saw the people in the painting on the top of the stairs. And he panicked. Cuz he knows what that implies, and he is worried for his dad.

He introduces himself as 'Bruce's son' which gets them to be a very happy set of grandparents, he tells them the story of when Bruce adopted him (cuz grandpa wanted to meet his mom, in the end he got a nice and tragic story of the flying Grayson's)! And how he always wanted to meet them! He also text Jason, telling him to get his ass downstairs and talk to his family.

Jason almost had a heart attack, he thought that Dick wanted him to talk to Bruce not grandpa and grandma, he's very happy of course, but he's worried for them, resurrection isn't something nice, but they assure him they are as good as they could be. And it is his turn to explain that he's also adopted (they laughed at the tire story, he told them it was one of Bruce's "fancy cars"). He comments that he and Martha have matching hair (both with a white stripe right in the middle).

Tim comes home around noon, he's been spending time with some school friends, and when he hears some commotion in the kitchen he goes to investigate, that's when he sees them and thinks he's hallucinating (again), but he's reassured by a very happy grandma. He tells them he's 'Tim Drake-Wayne', and is his time to explain that no Bruce didn't marry a Drake, he is his legal guardian (aka Dad) cuz when his parents died on a archaeological excavation his uncle was not fit to be his guardian so Bruce stepped up.

Thomas and Martha are so happy in a couple of hours they went from being dead to having 3 beautiful grandchildren! They are very proud of Bruce for making a difference in these boys lives!

That's when Damian walks in the kitchen he just wanted Alfred's help with something, he looks just like Bruce when he was that age (or what they think Bruce would look like), he doesn't look surprised or excited, he just says that he's Bruce's 'biological son', which gets one of his ears pinched by Dick with a very stern 'be nice'. Before they can ask anything they're being hugged by Damian who says that it is nice to have them in here.

When Bruce comes home he's very tired™, he had a day full of meetings on Wayne enterprises and he still gotta do Batman stuff. He passed through the kitchen and saw that his kids had guests over. He doesn't think much of it until he gives a good look at them.

"Mama? Papa?"

And the world stopped spinning. That's them! All he wanted to see since he was an 8 year old little boy. He just doesn't believe it.

He looks just like his dad. Probably a bit shorter (and not rocking the mustache), but he has his mama's eyes. And her smile. He missed her smile so much! He missed his papa's hugs, he missed the lullabies his mama used to sing, he missed playing pretend with his papa, he missed them.

And he can't say a word. He just cries. He hugs them and he cries. His mama and papa are really back! They are back home!

And now it's his turn to catch up! And boy he's got a lot to say!

As they move to the living room Thomas gives this look to Alfred, smiles and says "Thank you for caring for our little boy, old friend!"

"Little boy? I'm sorry Mister Wayne, but that's an understatement. He's almost taller than the cabinets!"

[maxknightley]

Which Dungeon Meshi characters would vote for Biden?

laios is a single-issue voter, and that issue is "more funding for biology research." since both biden and trump handled the novel SARS coronavirus poorly, he would not trust either candidate to do what he wants. therefore he would write in the name of a prominent dragon expert. (if dragons don't exist in this hypothetical, substitute some real-world megafauna, like elephants or moose.)

falin can't vote until she sorts out the fact that she's legally dead.

marcille is definitely the "really into ruth bader ginsburg" brand of turbolib. that being said, at fifty years of age, she's just old enough to remember her parents complaining about his anti-busing efforts, and more than old enough to remember the Violent Crime Control and Law Enforcement Act. even more importantly, however: she would be really put off by his tendency to make gaffes and ramble about weird shit. she thinks Optics and Being Presidential are very important. she would therefore start a short-lived and ultimately unsuccessful movement to try and get Harris nominated instead.

chilchuck is a union man at heart, so he would call a vote to determine whether the union as a whole endorses biden or condemns both candidates. if they vote to condemn, he just stays home and gets day-drunk instead

senshi doesn't vote.

izutsumi isn't 18 yet.

kabru phone-banks for biden as part of an elaborate plan to run for state senator, then votes third party and lies about it.

toshiro is a foreign national. also, he doesn't watch the news. for all he knows or cares, obama is still president

[spyret-the-shitposter]

and now it's time to play WOULD GRAVITY FALLS CHARACTERS RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS (pre-weirdmageddon) (non gravity falls fans take this as a sign.)

DIPPER PINES - not sure he'd understand the concept immediately, but would catch on quick because he understands what it's like not being called something you want to be called

MABEL PINES - YES. no question about it. there's so many things i could say here. she'd correct herself for THINKING the wrong pronouns.

STANLEY PINES - understands and correctly genders you for all the wrong, crime-related reasons! bro is the king of preferred names. you say "hey i'm actually exam/ple" and he'll be like "AH. I GET IT. WINK. DO YOU ALSO WANT TO BE NOTIFIED WHEN THE COPS ARE IN TOWN" like i cant overstate this. if you say hey i want to change my identity he will pull out a stack of fake IDs and have you pick one. he's a little confused but he got the spirit!

STANFORD PINES - if you ever need a guy to not grasp a modern-day concept, call this guy! he'd do his best, but only because he wants to be nice. he does Not understand. give him a little bit of systematic exposure and he'll get it! he will take a scientific approach! but he'll get it! somebody get this man 2024ccs of woke liberalism stat

SOOS RAMIREZ - calls you dude and bro. does not call you anything but dude and bro. he knows what you are and he respects that! but let's be real honest here.

WENDY CORDUROY - incredibly supportive and super chill. if you were still in the closet, she'd do the mouth zip motion thing. you get it. she's so awesome about you

WADDLES - oink?

GIDEON GLEEFUL - yes to your face! no behind closed doors. he'd probably call you "that queer" while villain monologuing in his room . i can hear it in his voice

BUD GLEEFUL - THE gravity falls homophobic youth pastor let's be for real he'd say "it's not too late to turn to God" as a christian trans person i'm pretty sure God thinks about lgbtq+ kids and fraudulent capitalists on two separate ends of a very long line

SHERIFF BLUBS & DEPUTY DURLAND - do i even have to say it. i'm gonna say it. solid top and DEAD SERIOUS bottom. they ARE the loud and proud gravity falls lgbtq+ community. if they're transphobic i'll eat my socks.

CANDY CHIU - i know what you guys are thinking . "oh candy's so sweet of course she'd respect your pronouns!" CANDY MOTHERFUCKING CHIU WILL NOT ONLY RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS, BUT SHE WILL GO OUT OF HER WAY TO USE THEM AT ANY POSSIBLE MOMENT. if she sees somewhere to say your pronouns, she will DO it. because she LOVES YOU. and also she'd fight anyone who gets it wrong!

GRENDA GRENDINATOR - trans. she loves you. will help candy fight anybody who gets your pronouns wrong.

FIDDLEFORD MCGUCKET - honestly this is a hard one. he could ACKNOWLEDGE! your pronouns! but other than that i'm not sure. pre-memory wipe, i think he'd feel a little weird about it, but it would become nothing to him eventually

PACIFICA NORTHWEST - "ew. what the fuck." and then suddenly she's asking you how you figured that out. For No Reason

ROBBIE VALENTINO - calls you a faggot. is it because he is homophobic? because he is one? because he hates you specifically? the world will never know

BLENDIN BLANDIN - he lives in the year 207̃012. i find it hard to believe they haven't made respecting pronouns mandatory yet.

AGENTS POWERS & TRIGGER - are the pronouns on your legal documents????? it's not funny stop laughign

TYLER CUTEBIKER - gay. his pronouns are get/it. he will respect you (in his own ways)

LAZY SUSAN - forgets you had the wrong pronouns in the first place. she respects you by default

TIME BABY - does not refer to you

BILL CIPHER - he would call you your preferred pronouns but DON'T get it twisted. he does not respect you as a living thing. it isn't bigoted (that would be ironic considering that whole sixer thing) he just doesn't. maybe he'd make HEAVY fun of you for good measure but he's got to dig at somebody somehow. also were pronouns even real in his dimension anything could happen man ????

SHMEBULOCK - shmebulock

(did i forget anybody? let me know)

[roboticchibitan]

I remember when same sex marriage was legized in my state (3 years before obergefel vs Hodges which legalized it nationwide). It won by a very narrow margin.

People who had taken care of me when I was young, people who were like second parents to me, (along with half the other people I knew) were saying it was the end times because I could now get married. And I couldn't help but wonder... would those people have protected me, cared for me, let me play with their children, if they had known I would grow up to be queer?

I came out in 2011. I was lucky. My parents were accepting. My mom was clearly uncomfortable at first but she made it clear she loved me no matter what.

Except.

My dad didn't care if I was queer and assured me that didn't mean there was anything wrong with me (in a speech I didn't need to hear but I think he needed to say). But he still said "that's gay" and "that's faggy" anytime my little brother showed vulnerability.

And I was a lucky one. My father used homophobic slurs around me regularly. He turned the word gay into a slur with his homophobic mouth. And I was a lucky one.

When I came out publicly, my grandmother stopped speaking to me for a while. I'm lucky that she changed her mind. I'm lucky that my grandparents let me bring my girlfriend with me when I went to visit them in October. October of 2022 and I still consider myself lucky that my grandparents let my queer partner into their house. My other grandma likewise visited with us, and was polite and friendly, but she still refused to call my gf anything other than "your friend." Still lucky. Incredibly lucky.

People don't understand just how bad things were as much as ten years ago. When I came out at school, I was lucky. No one bullied me. No one shoved me into lockers or called me slurs. They all just stopped talking to me. I became invisible. I went to a small school. I was the only person who was out. Exactly one person talked to me the rest of the year. And I was a lucky one.

When I was in middle and highschool, the go to insult was "that's gay." I heard it constantly. Every day. Sometimes people said it to me to insult me, long before I even knew I was queer.

I was lucky because the worst that happened to me was social isolation and people using slurs around me or turning my identity into a slur. No one called ME faggy. No one beat me up behind the school bleachers. I was incredibly lucky.

I have experienced the word "gay" used as a slur far more than I ever heard the word "queer" used as a slur. Young "queer is a slur and only a slur" people need to know the world you live in is not the world the rest of us live in. Why is "queer" a slur but "gay" isn't? My homophobic father thought the word "gay" conveyed just as much offense and disgust as the word "faggot." So why is queer the horrible word that can never be reclaimed but people say "that's gay" as a compliment now? The loneliest I have ever felt was in a room full of teenagers who thought my identity was the height of insults. So why is gay fine but queer isn't?

I am a fat butch queer and I do not hide that. My shoes have a pride flag on them. I have a masculine haircut and wear men's clothes. I look queer.

And I am afraid. I dress like this anyway, because I want other queer folks to know I am a safe person. I dress how I do partially because I like it but also partially so any queer person in the room, no matter now closeted, can see me and feel a little bit safer. Because I will protect other queer people with my life if need be.

Because I am openly and visibly queer and live in a world where being queer can get you killed. Because it can. Gay bashings still happen. The alt right are getting bolder in their violence, and that includes homophobic/transphobic violence. There are organizations in the US that are actively pushing to make homosexuality punishable by death in Africa. They know they could never accomplish that here. But they would if they could. People want us dead.

Young people need to understand that. And they need to understand that the people who did the most work to free us from criminalization were queer. They identified as queer. And they weren't the perfect law abiding queers toeing the line of what's acceptible. Because being queer itself was illegal. You could end up on the sex offender registry for being gay. In fact, there are queer people who are STILL registered as sex offenders just because they were queer in 2001. Pride wasn't a permitted parade with wells Fargo floats. It was angry queers illegally marching down the streets, screaming "We're here. We're queer. Get used to it."

Being openly queer is a radical act. It is still a radical act.

I did not live through Windsor vs the united states, the referendum 74 debate, my father punishing my brother for being human with homophobic slurs, and the pearl clutching fearmongering about "the gay agenda" (that was a go to phrase for 2012 homophobes) for some LGBT kid to come at me with TERF bullshit they got off tiktok about how my identity is a slur and I'm a horrible person for using it.

I was a lucky one and I'm still saying "no, absolutely not" to this bullshit.

Queer is more inclusive. Queer accounts for any possible fluidity because people change. Identities change. Queer is there for people who know they're Something Different but are not sure of the details yet. Queer is intentionally vague. When you're young you want everyone to know exactly who you are but as you get older you realize actually my identity is none of your business. In fact, sometimes when you tell someone your identity, you're handing them a bludgeon for them to hurt you with.

If you have trans classmates, you do not understand the world the rest of us grew up in. Trans people were not a public topic. They were not even acknowledged as existing by most people. I didn't know what being trans was until I was like 17. I'm nonbinary now and consider myself trans 10 years later.

And I didn't even have it that bad. But you know what? It still sucked and it was still hard and I can't imagine what it was like to grow up a decade before I did. I had it easy compared to most people.

If you can jokingly say "that's gay" when someone expresses queer love, then you can fucking handle people using the word queer as their identity.

The infighting and policing each other has to stop. You're oppressing queer people with this bullshit. It does not matter what words queer people use to describe themselves when there are people actively killing us. What are you doing? For fucks sake look at the bigger picture. Direct all that rage at our oppressors and the people who mean us harm. Queer people and he/him lesbians and bi lesbians and people who use neo pronouns and whoever else is the discourse of the day do not deserve this kind of treatment. Punch a homophobe and maybe you'll feel better.

[nofomogirl]

We need to talk about body snatching

I'm not a massive fan of the 1827 minisode - if you're curious why it bothers me, I've explained it in my post about two GO canons - but there's no denying it does an amazing job at exploring the complexity of morality and moral choices. It starts with a very black-and-white two-dimensional image and gradually adds shading and perspective, making it harder and harder to judge as we go along.

I think it's worth digging into (pun not intended but I'll take it).

Layer 1: body snatching bad

We learn someone did something

It's those first few seconds where we see a person robbing a grave, and since we know that robbing graves is a crime and generally not a good thing to do, we can quickly form a tentative conclusion that this is wrong.

Okay, in this exact instance, we immediately get enough context clues to see that this kind of judgment would be oversimplistic and superficial. Only Aziraphale, who for some reason acts as if it was his first day on Earth after a thorough memory wipe, is ready to condemn Elspeth based on just that.

Nevertheless, this is the first layer - the deed itself with no context.

Layer 2: body snatching acceptable

We learn about the person who did the thing

That's the whole journey with the first dug-up body where we get to know Elspeth and become privy to her circumstances - she's desperately poor, she has another person depending on her, she robs graves to survive. Aziraphale's suggestions that she might earn her living by selling books, weaving or farming just serve to prove how inaccessible more honest and dignified professions are to her. In turn, her comment about how she's not hurting anybody who isn't already dead hints that from the realistically available options, Elspeth could have chosen something much worse.

Technically this layer is a significant step up from layer 1 but it still isn't really challenging. Things are spelt out really loud for us, and most importantly everything we learn about Elspeth is just attenuating circumstances. To top it off both she and Wee Morag are immediately endearing. The takeaway is that sometimes things that in theory are bad can be excused which is important but the verdict still comes without any second thoughts.

Layer 3: body snatching complicated

We learn the larger context around the thing

This mostly happens when Aziraphale and Crowley discuss body snatching with Mr Dalrymple. We learn that the stolen corpses are used for a medical study that can advance human knowledge and make it possible to save living people and that surgeons have no legal means to obtain enough of them for their research - hence their need to buy them from body snatchers.

At first glance it's just more of what we got in layer 2 - more agruments in favour of body snatching that aren't all that nuanced and don't really give us any pause - just from a larger perspective, beyond Elspeth's individual experience. But if you glance more than once you'll notice this is when things stop being straightforward and easy to judge.

The moment we enter a proper grey area is when Aziraphale asks why Mr Dalrymple doesn't acquire the bodies himself. This is a very valid question - while we might easily agree that studying the human body to further medical knowledge is a good thing, and with just the slightest hesitation admit that it's acceptable to resort to using stolen bodies if that is the only way the research may continue, it's not as easy to excuse taking advantage of the poor and the desperate to do the actual stealing that we know is very dangerous.

The moment we know without a doubt we are in a proper grey area is when Mr Dalrymple laughs at Aziraphale's concern.

Objectively, the surgeon is right that it's more effective if he doesn't risk his own life in the graveyard and uses his time on actual research, teaching students and saving lives. But it's also clear he doesn't exactly see people like Elspeth as actual human beings and feels he has every right to use them. On the one hand, he is paying, on the other, he happily benefits from the cruel class system and is not even one bit remorseful about it. On the one hand, he takes risks too, on the other he has a chance of rewards Elspeth will not benefit from. It's not the poorest whose lives will get bettered by the progress of medicine, even though they're the ones who pay with their lives for that progress. And if Mr Dalrymple gets lucky and is knighted for his work (we know he wasn't in the end but it was a possibility), the poor still won't be pardoned for stealing for him. Nevertheless, he has no issue with that.

As I said, things get nuanced.

Layer 4: it's different when it's someone you know

The thing actually happens in your life

I think you'll all agree that the turning point of the minisode is when Elspeth decides to sell Wee Morag's still warm body. This is what finally leaves us speechless.

That's because up until now we've been approaching the issue intellectually. It's not that we didn't care about the characters, but we were allowed to keep a safe distance. The whole thing was like a problem to be solved - "Is body snatching right or wrong? Discuss in 500-1000 words" - and everything we've learned so far was data for this assignment. I believe that one of the reasons why this detachment came naturally was that there was a very thick line between people involved in body snatching and the bodies that were being snatched. The former were, well, people, obviously. The latter were inanimate objects.

It isn't until Wee Morag is to be sold that we are forced to see a person in a dead body. This is also when real emotions enter the equation.

This shift forces us to question our judgment for the first time. It was easy to justify Elspeth when she was selling a nameless corpse. But the fact that she decided to sell her closest companion - and most likely lover - shocks us. Something inside us strongly objects to how quickly she makes the decision.

And then there's the transaction, and it is also different when it's someone we know. The fact that we knew Wee Morag fully exposes Mr Dalrymple for the heartless jerk that he is. The way he treats Elspeth is the absolute worst and if you haven't realized he was a hypocrite earlier, you should be disillusioned by now.

But at least Elspeth is not a hypocrite, right? It may seem cold that she sold Wee Morag but it just proves she simply believed it's all right to sell a dead body, doesn't it?

Well, about that...

Layer 5: it's different when it's you

You are forced to face the thing happening to you

This layer is reached when Elspeth plans her suicide and asks Aziraphale and Crowley to bury her "somewhere where no ghouls will ever dig her back up again".

It turns out Elspeth McKinnon really was a filthy liar.

Not long ago she was insisting that body snatching doesn't hurt anyone who isn't already dead, and asking why she should let Wee Morag rot in the ground when she starves. But she wants to make sure it doesn't happen to her own body. The idea that someone might dig her up terrifies her and she calls people who do it ghouls. So why was digging up other people okay again? Why should she rot in the ground while other people suffer? There were other people living in the street where she and Wee Morag hid. Why not ask Aziraphale to give the money to them? Or just anybody in need? Why not ask to sell her body as well and use the earnings the same way?

Also, if you look at it from a certain perspective, Elspeth betrayed Wee Morag in the worst possible way. Wee Morag believed that if someone's body gets cut, that person's soul cannot enter Heaven. Yet Elspeth sold her to Mr Dalrymple, claiming that Wee Morag would have wanted her to have the means to survive. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps Wee Morag would have made that sacrifice. But then Elspeth decided to kill herself and use the money she got for Wee Morag's body for her own funeral.

But does it make Elspeth wicked? Certainly not. She's simply torn by grief. I seriously doubt she's been planning to commit suicide when she was taking Wee Morag to Mr Dalrymple. She might have genuinely tried to carry on but the reality of what happened caught up to her. Mr Dalrymple's cruel words certainly didn't help her cope with a personal tragedy. I even suspect one of the reasons she sold her friend was that she had no idea what else to do with a dead body.

Does this excuse her actions? Kind of, but not really.

Elspeth was a tragic character, not an innocent lamb with a heart of gold.

The point is - can any of us really judge her?

Which, coincidentally, is a question that the original Good Omens book toyed with quite a lot.

If you've reached this far, thank you for reading!

[dunmeshistash]

I've had the discussion about on my mind for a while and it's made me start to believe that the Canaries, like many real world criminals, were involved in crimes but were given unfair punishment because the involvement is never specified and that's on purpose. Lycion and Cithis have life sentences, but Lycion's time in the fighting pit was done in a dungeon and dungeons closely monitored by Canaries. It's possible he was scooped up by someone who noticed his potential as a Canary after Utaya thinned the ranks so much.

Cithis may have murdered in self defense, which is still murder, but it shouldn't give her a life sentence. But if they noticed her magic specialty, the Dungeon Investigation Unit leadership may have decided she's useful and drummed up her charges to pull her in.

Fleki? Having drugs is legal for spell casters, especially familiar uses. But Fleki was arrested for position of ancieny artifacts. What for? She's shown no interest in ancient artifacts. Did she have it by accident. Did someone plant it on her because they noticed her capability with a familiar was better than others?

With Otta, it's entirely possible her human trafficking charge was because she was trafficked, not because she DID trafficking. This happens in real life. Equally, she may have been charged with human trafficking for helping people who the Elf Queen and their government wasn't fond of get out of the country.

I'm not going to say their hands are clean of any sin, but given how the long-lived races also have a lot of practices that convey real life imperialist governments, it's easy to see where there's room for interpretation.

In real life modern California in the U.S., incarcerated people are forcefully volunteered to fight wildfires on the ground at the risk of their lives because there's not enough firefighters as is to cover what's necessary. It's possible the Canaries are are in a similar situation.

This isn't meant to be argumentive or anything, but I think it's neat that even with all the solid details and interesting things laid out, Ryoko Kui was able to still able to leave things vague enough for interpretation. If anything, I should thank you for giving me more interesting ways to look at what material we've been provided.

Fleki was selling the ancient artifacts but yeah I don't doubt they have been unfairly put in this situation, several times they talk about how understaffed the Canaries are and how they always need more prisoners, Fleki might not have a life sentence but she basically does since her sentence is so long she'll be dead of very old when it's over and all she did was sell it.

[bellaxgiornata]

As Luck Would Have It [1/2]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.5k [Part Two]

Warnings/tags: Humor, fluff, and a charming, teasing Matty

Summary: Stressed out while working on a dead-end case at Nelson, Murdock, and Page, Matt isn't too thrilled when Foggy interrupts and asks him for a favor. Despite his annoyance at another task being added to his list of things to do, Matt is shocked when the potential client Foggy asks him to call turns out to be a wrong number. What's even more surprising is how much Matt enjoys chatting with the woman on the other end of the line.

a/n: This is going to be a short, two part piece. It's light and fluffy so I hope y'all enjoy it! Feedback/reblogs are always appreciated!

Matt Murdock One Shot Tag List: @pazii @shouldbestudying41 @kmc1989 @ebathory997 @yeonalie @shiorimakibawrites @xxdrixx @wkndwllf @leikelle @pinkratts @lazyxsquirrel @1988-fiend @marvelcinematiquniverse @carstairswife @stilldreaming666 @kiwwia-wiwwia @willwork4dilfs @will-delete-this-later-probably @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @theetherealbloom @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @ladywholikesreading @sleepysleepymom @tartbeanpuzzles @harleycao @sunflower-tia @gamingfeline @juskonutoh @kezibear @ninacotte @withyoutilltheendoftheline @justanerd1

Matt’s fingers slid across his braille reader, his brows furrowed together in deep concentration as he focused on reading the digital document displayed on his laptop. This entire case had been draining him lately, only managing to aggravate him as he continually hit legal wall after legal wall trying to figure out how to help their client. What made things worse was that he knew what was really happening behind the scenes in this case that he, Foggy, and Karen had been working on, but he also knew that Matt Murdock wasn't supposed to know about any of that.  

With a vexed grunt he raised a hand from off his braille reader, running it through his hair in agitation as he blew out a frustrated breath. Tired of reading the same thing over and over with no new way forward, Matt pushed his chair back from the desk in annoyance. The desk lurched a few inches across the floor at the force as Matt grit his teeth together. 

He wished he could use the information he'd uncovered last night as Daredevil. That would have solved all of his problems and easily saved their client. But of course, none of that evidence was remotely admissible in court. So while he knew where the truth lay in this entire case, he was still currently helpless to use the law in his fight for justice. Though he was certainly determined to keep picking through detail after detail in search of something he could use to his client’s benefit.

The sound of footsteps approaching his office door caught Matt’s attention and his head shifted to the side. Matt pushed all thoughts of his frustrating case out of his mind as he focused on the noise. Barely a second later the sound of Foggy’s unmistakable heartbeat registered in his ears just before two knocks sounded against his door.

“What do you need, Fog?” Matt called out.

He heard the door handle twist, the door to his office opening as Foggy stepped inside. Matt didn’t have to exert much effort studying him to notice how stressed Foggy currently was. His blood pressure was quite clearly elevated this morning along with his cortisol levels–he could practically smell the stress in the faint bit of sweat on Foggy’s forehead. So apparently Matt wasn't the only one having a shitty day at the firm today. At least he wasn't alone in that.

“Hey, Matt,” Foggy began hesitantly, stopping just inside his office before shifting his weight back and forth along his feet almost nervously. “I know you're busy running yourself into the ground for the Richmond case, and I know how frustrating it's been to keep hitting a deadend. But…” he trailed off for a moment, Matt catching the faint waver in his tone. “I was actually hoping to ask you for a favor this morning.”

Matt’s head tilted curiously to the side, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses at Foggy. Leaning back in his desk chair, he lowered his hands down onto his lap and attempted to keep the annoyed fidgeting of his fingers hidden from his friend. The last thing Matt wanted right now was another task added to his agenda for the day. All he wanted was to make headway on this case before it drove him insane.

“What kind of favor?” he asked, trying to keep the edge from his tone.

Matt heard Foggy take a few more steps forward into his office, stopping just in front of his desk. The sound of something like a small slip of paper faintly rustled between Foggy’s fingers as he stood there. 

“Elliott got a call a bit ago from someone by the name of Edgar Philips who was potentially interested in hiring us,” Foggy began to explain, setting the paper down onto Matt's desk before sliding it across the surface towards him. “And the case sounded… interesting to say the least. But the thing is, Karen is out today dealing with the Rodriguez building permit thing, and I'm about to head over to the courthouse. So I was…sort of hoping you could call them back and handle the consultation? Somehow fit them in today?”

Matt could hear the way the muscles in Foggy’s face had contracted, sounding like he'd almost grimaced when he had asked for the favor. His heart rate had accelerated just a bit, meaning Fog was clearly anxious that Matt would decline to help take on even more work today. Truthfully he wanted to decline calling this possible client because he was already swamped with the Richmond case, but maybe taking a few minutes to focus on something else would benefit him. Maybe stepping away for a bit before coming back to things with a fresh mind would help him see things a little differently. Clearly he wasn’t making any progress this morning doing what he had been doing. 

With an exasperated sigh, Matt slid his hand across his desk to where he’d heard Foggy set the slip of paper. His fingers felt around the wooden surface for a second before he found it.

“Yeah, I'll make the call,” Matt told him, pulling the paper towards himself. 

Foggy let out a relieved breath, the sound of his entire body relaxing impossible for Matt's ears to miss. At least he could make Fog's day a little better.

“Great, seriously! Thank you, buddy,” Foggy said in a rush. “You have no idea how helpful that is right now. I've already got so much to do today, I really didn't know how I was going to fit that call in. And you know how bad the reception can be at the courthouse.” Foggy laughed good-naturedly, his mood already lifting. “But hey, before I go, did you need me to read that phone number off for you? Or dial it even?”

Matt's fingers ran over the indentation of Elliott's pen marks on the paper. Despite how scatterbrained their new secretary often tended to be, he at least appreciated that the man had a heavy hand when he took notes from the calls he answered. It at least made things easier for Matt to read without too much extra assistance–something he loathed having to ask for if he didn’t need to.

“No,” he answered with a shake of his head. “I can make the numbers out just fine. Don't worry about me, Fog. Just go take care of what you need to. I'll deal with this Edgar Philips.”

Foggy’s hands clapped loudly together, Matt picking up on the sounds of his feet as he already began to back out of his office. 

“Thank you, Matt, you're a life saver!” he exclaimed. “You know, more than you usually are.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Matt said with a grin. “Can you just shut the door again on your way out, though?”

“Can do!” Foggy replied. 

Matt swore he heard the air shift as Foggy sent him a salute. Chuckling lightly at his best friend's ability to lighten the mood, he heard the sound of his office door closing before he heard the muffled sound of Foggy’s footsteps as he began making his exit from the office. 

For a minute Matt sat in his chair, listening as Foggy said a brief goodbye to Elliott before leaving. Then the usual ‘silence’ of their office returned. Though it was never truly quiet to Matt because he could still hear the hum of the lights in the building, the almost constant tapping of Elliott's fingers on his keyboard in the room over, and even the incessant buzzing of a fly that had been trapped in the office since yesterday afternoon. 

Foul mood slowly returning, Matt's fingers ran over the pen marks on the slip of paper still in his hands. Glancing down towards it, he wondered what the interesting case that Foggy had mentioned was actually supposed to be about. To Matt, interesting just translated to complicated, which was the last thing he needed right now. Though whatever it was, he figured getting the call out of the way would be the best course of action for now. Afterwards he’d be free to continue working on the Richmond case for the rest of the day, hopefully without any further interruptions or distractions.

Shifting in his chair, he slipped his cell phone from out of his dress pants pocket, the electronic hum of it louder now that it wasn’t muffled by fabric. He raised it to his mouth before speaking a few voice commands into it, then he took a second to recite the number he’d been given from off the paper. Sitting back in his chair, Matt listened to the familiar dial tone as he held the phone to his ear, but surprisingly it only managed to ring twice before someone had quickly answered.

“Seriously, Lindsey, I said I’d call afterwards,” a distinctly annoyed and hushed female voice came over the line. “There’s nothing of interest for me to report yet and now you’re just making me even more nervous. At this point my armpits are going to be as sweaty as my hands.”

Sitting forward in his chair, Matt rested his elbows along the top of his desk. A small grin slipped onto his mouth as he tossed the little slip of paper somewhere among the mess of papers before himself. He hadn’t expected that to be the response to his call, but now the person on the other end of the line had captured his undivided attention.

“Maybe you should try using more deodorant then,” Matt cheekily suggested.

A surprised gasp met his ear, the sound making his smile widen further. Clearly whoever he'd gotten ahold of had just now realized they were in fact not speaking with Lindsey. 

“Oh, shit,” came your clearly embarrassed and still hushed voice as the realization that you were speaking to someone else settled in. “I'm sorry, I totally thought you were my friend calling back. I didn't check the caller ID because I didn't want my ringtone to make any more of a nuisance than it already had been making because it's so loud. I swear I don't ever hear it if I don't have the volume up so high. But now I am incredibly regretting the decision to not just have taken the two seconds to look and check the number first.” 

There was a pause where you loudly cleared your throat over the line. Matt found himself still grinning at the word vomit that seemed to keep coming from you with no end in sight, his irritation at having to make this call quickly vanishing. His left hand began to absently fiddle with a pen from his desk as he listened to you ramble on further.

“Clearly you're not Lindsey and now I'm absolutely mortified,” you continued in a rush. “But for the record, I am wearing deodorant. A lot of it actually. I'm just nervous and it makes me extra sweaty, alright? I don't like job interviews. They terrify me.” Your voice dropped to an even quieter tone as you continued on, Matt not remotely interested in stopping you because you had easily become the most fascinating part of his day. “And I dislike when you have to sit and wait in those stiff plastic chairs while the secretary keeps shooting you random smiles from their desk like you're not about to vomit all over the floor from nerves. I swear they make you sit outside the office for at least ten minutes like it's some sort of extra secret test before the actual interview takes place. Are they supposed to be judging how I sit and do nothing? Or how I handle intentionally being asked to show up at a certain time but am purposely made to sit and wait? I swear, it’s done on purpose.”

“So what I'm gathering from all of that,” Matt finally began when you had paused to take a breath, still grinning as he spoke, “is that you are not the Edgar Philips I am looking for, nor were you the one who most likely tried contacting the law firm of Nelson, Murdock, and Page earlier this morning on his behalf. Am I correct in that assumption?”

There was a very long pause on your end of the line after he'd spoken. Matt waited patiently for you to respond though, his left hand still leisurely flipping the pen back and forth between his fingers.

“Did you say…law firm?” you hesitantly asked. 

“Yes, I did,” Matt replied. 

“So you're a…?”

“Lawyer, yes. One of the partners, actually,” he answered easily. “And one who must have somehow gotten the wrong number it appears, judging by your response.”

“Yeah, I uh–” you cleared your throat again, “–I definitely didn't call your office today. And I am certainly not Edgar Philips.”

“Ahh well, my apologies,” Matt said, setting his pen back down on his desk before sitting back in his chair. “I'm sorry to have interrupted your day, especially at such an inconvenient time as right before a job interview. I suppose I shouldn’t further distract you.”

There was a small part of Matt that almost felt reluctant to end the call already, dreading having to ask Elliott for help with the clearly incorrect phone number so he could get in touch with the actual Mr. Philips before going back to that irritating Richmond case. You'd been an amusing distraction this morning at least. 

“Actually you've somehow managed to calm my nerves,” you replied. “Apparently embarrassing myself with a stranger has now made me feel less like vomiting.”

“Any less sweaty?” Matt teased, unable to help himself.

You laughed lightly over the line, the sound a pleasant one that seemed to ease the tension from Matt’s own body. Something about your voice and your way of immediately speaking to him as if you'd known him for longer than two minutes had drawn him in.

“Maybe a fraction less, thank you for that,” you answered. “You uh, you have a calming voice, whichever part of Nelson, Murdock, and Page you are.”

Matt's brows quickly shot up onto his forehead in surprise. No one had told him that before.

“I do?” he asked.

“Mhmm,” you hummed back. “You know, if you ever need money, you'd be great at calling people and talking to them until they relax before they have to do something they're nervous about–like going to a job interview. Or maybe even attending events with them to keep them calm or something. You know what I’m saying?”

Matt couldn't resist the laugh that slipped out of his mouth, his head tilting to the side. “Is that an actual thing that exists? Because it almost sounds like you're just describing a male escort,” he pointed out.

“ No !” your harsh whisper came over the line, the embarrassment in it causing Matt to chuckle again. “Oh no, that's not–no I didn't mean it like that! I swear! Is that even legal in New York City? Though I suppose maybe you don't live here since this is a wrong number and all... But no! That’s not what I meant!”

Matt relaxed further back in his chair, finding that he'd been enjoying this unexpected conversation with you this morning far more than he could’ve thought. He truly didn't want to end the call even though he knew he would need to soon. Though he found himself wishing for an excuse to talk to you again already.

“I do live in New York City actually,” he answered. “And male escorts aren't supposed to be getting paid for their time in the way that you're currently thinking about, so yes, they are actually quite legal.”

“I imagine as a lawyer that owns your own law firm, though,” you began, “you don't exactly need a side hustle as a male escort. And that–that’s a joke, by the way,” you quickly clarified. “You know what? Just forget I said that, I'm just nervous for this interview. I'm rambling.”

“You are, but I'm enjoying it,” he told you. “But our law firm tends to take on lots of cases pro bono, so truthfully, I could probably use a side hustle. I'll keep your vote of confidence as a male escort in mind if I ever struggle to continue paying my bills.”

The bark of laughter followed by your soft curse under your breath had Matt’s cheeks hurting from how wide his smile had grown. 

“Despite how entertaining this call has been, I should really go,” you said. “I imagine they should be calling me back soon and I probably shouldn’t be sitting here looking like I’m having so much fun on the phone judging by the frown the secretary just gave me. I’ve never had one frown at me before and I’d really not like to mess up my chances here. I kind of really want this job so I can actually do something with my degree.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll do just fine, but either way, I wish you luck,” Matt replied. “I should probably get back to work myself, but I’ll admit that you’ve been a pleasant distraction from a case I’ve been struggling with myself, so thank you.”

“Then I wish you luck as well, stranger,” you replied. “I hope you make some progress on your case.”

“I suppose if I don’t, there’s always other viable career options for me that I’ve recently had my eyes opened to,” Matt teased.

He enjoyed the sound of your laugh over the line one last time before you told him goodbye. Almost reluctantly Matt ended the call, lowering his phone down onto his desk. His smile faltered as he once more overheard the sound of Elliott’s fingers typing on his computer. With a defeated sigh he pushed his chair back, rising up to his feet and accepting the fact that he’d need to ask Elliott for help dialing Mr. Philips correctly.

“Matt, this is–” Foggy began but quickly stopped himself.

Matt sat back in his chair, a triumphant smile spread wide across his mouth as he continued to listen to both Karen and Foggy rifling through the documents he’d had printed out early this morning. The three of them were currently sitting in the conference room while Matt proudly sat back, enjoying the sound of the pair of them getting excited over what he’d discovered yesterday afternoon. Apparently taking a step away from the case for a little bit had been just the thing he needed to do to come back at it with a different angle.

“Dude, this is exactly what we needed for that Richmond case!” Foggy finally exclaimed, his head darting up towards Matt. “You’re brilliant!”

“Ahh, well,” Matt said with a smug smile and a shrug of his shoulders. “Just doing my job, Fog.”

“This must have taken a lot of creative thinking,” Karen muttered, still flipping through the papers. “Hell, Matt, I think you just saved this whole case.”

Matt had been about to respond, tempted to make another cocky comment, but the sound of his phone receiving a text cut him off. Brows furrowing together slightly, he slipped his hand into his pants pocket and pulled his phone out. Holding it up to his ear and muttering out a command, he slid back his chair from the conference table before rising up to his feet and walking a few steps away from Foggy and Karen. 

He frowned slightly at the number the automated voice began to read off in his ear almost immediately. It wasn’t one he had recognized. Why would a strange number be texting him? Though when he heard that same automated voice begin to read out the text message he’d received, a small smile easily slipped onto his face.

“Just wanted to let you know that I was offered the job already this morning,” the automated voice read into Matt’s ear. “Apparently you’re my good luck charm, stranger. So thanks for the chat. Hope you made some progress on your case, too.”

For a moment Matt just stood there in shock, holding the phone to his ear and grinning like a fool. He hadn’t expected to ever hear from you again, and he certainly hadn't anticipated the burst of pride at your news. And apparently you’d also been his good luck charm because after he'd dealt with the real Edgar Philips, he finally made a break on the case that had stumped him for weeks. 

Without a second thought, Matt turned around to face both Karen and Foggy, lowering his phone to his side. “Hey, I’ve got to respond to this message,” he told them. “Do you mind if I handle this back in my office now?”

“No, no,” Foggy answered distractedly, the air shifting as he clearly waved Matt off. “Go do your thing, buddy. We've got plenty to focus on at the moment.”

Trying to fight back the growing smile on his mouth as he maneuvered his way back over towards where he'd been sitting, Matt picked up his cane that had been resting against the table. As he navigated his way out of the conference room and back to the privacy of his office, he already began thinking up a response to your message. And he also wondered how strange it would be if he called instead of texted you back.

[roadkillremi]

A better man

Negan X F!Reader

Era - S10/11

Summary: After being stuck in a cabin with Negan, things got hot and heavy. Is there regret or enjoyment?

Warnings : Minors DNI, Legal Age Gap (Negan is in his 50s, Reader is in their 30s) , mentions Reader's and her ex's having bad fights (mentions leaving a bruise), unprotected sex, language, p in V, the pet name Doll, mentions rubbing poison ivy on hickey, the whole smut is a flashback of "yesterday night".

A/N : My first Negan fic <3. Also a couple of side notes ; Reader calls Negan Carl's and Ricks killer, I know this isn't true. It is more of the way she viewed him during S7/8. There's no use of 'Y/N', Negan refers to the reader as "Doll". Italics are used for past quotes

There were no words once you went inside the house. Your brain scrabbled with the thought of him. Your backpack slid off your shoulders leaving a thud on the ground. It laid by the entrance next to some abandoned shoes.

"You're back!" Judith and RJ ran towards you giving you a hug. You smile kneeling down to their level.

"Sorry it took me so long..." You wrapped your arms around them. You heard a creak behind you, you turned around to find Michonne. She stood in the doorway looking down at you.

"I said To be as quick as possible." She muttered. Your chest wrenches with guilt, "We were surrounded.". Michonne nodded and stepped closer, she took a good look at you.

"What the hell is that?" She pointed at your neck. You quickly reached your hand to the spot she pointed.

"What?"

"That better not be what I think it is.." she walked away. Her kids followed behind her like little ducks. You quickly went into the bathroom moving your neck around.

There it was.

A cherry red spot on your neck, your heart rate quickened. You said no hickeys, you shut your eyes hoping you're imagining things. Flashes of last night just flood your vision.

His hands roamed your body, touching you so gently. It was a mistake, you didn't mean for things to build up. You were surrounded by dead sacks of shit. It grew colder and less safe for you two to head back. You two barricaded the windows and locked the doors. He placed his crowbar by the door and sat on the couch kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

After all these years I barely know shit about you, sweetheart.

That's what led the two of you to share stories. Stories you wouldn't dare share with anyone else. He knew about your shitty ex boyfriends, the shameful hook ups. The terrible fights you'd have with said shitty ex boyfriends that ended in bruises.

If they were still alive I'd beat the shit of them

In return, he told you all about Lucille and her death. Teary eyed he stared down at you waiting for a response. You weren't sure how to react, so you hugged him. You whispered sweet nothing's into his ear.

I bet she loved you so much.

Then you two kissed in a fit of passion. Your senses are overruled by the longing of a man's touch. Undressing each other as quickly as possible. He laid you down on the old couch, his lips exploring every curve. You patted his shoulder signalling for him to stop. He looked up at you his lips pink with saliva coating them.

Before we continue we need ground rules... Don't release your fucking seed in me. Don't leave marks. Got it?

Fuck yeah, doll.

Just like that he was on top of you, his forehead on yours. He looked into your eyes watching you whimper and moan. His smug smile didn't leave his face once, he chuckled to himself before speaking.

God, this pussy is so Fucking good! No man should teach you like shit..

You pulled him down by the nape of his neck. His lips smash into yours as his beard tickles your chin. He leaned down leaving kisses all around your neck. His teeth teasingly digging into your skin, him leaving the hickey...

He made sure you finished first, holding himself back until your release coated his cock. He pulled out of you before he could spill his seed. You reached in between the two of your bodies. Your hand pumped his shaft helping him chase his orgasm. He thrusted into your hand his head tilting back. You placed kisses on his collarbone and traveled down to his tattoo. His come falling onto your torso, he groaned.

Shit, Doll... Lemme clean you up.

He grabbed his t-shirt whipping your torso off. He tossed it back into the ground before laying on top of you. His head rested on your chest as one of his hands rubbed up and down your thigh.

You buried your face into your hands. You can't do this, Think about Rick, Glenn, Carl, Abraham. They saved you, you were their family, and you slept with their killer. You focused on your racing heart, he's a changed man. You had to get rid of the hickey before anyone else sees it.

You stormed out the house grabbing your ax on the way out. You head towards the gate, your heart echoing into your ears. Negan noticed you stomping towards the gate, he got up from the steps he was sitting at. He followed you with curiosity plan on his face.

"Where are you off to? We just got back." He grinned. You didn't look at him, "To find poison ivy.". He's taken back by your response, " 'cuse me?". You sigh moving any hair in the way to show your neck.

"You got sloppy last night. Will someone open this damn Gate?!" You fussed. A man rushed towards the gate opening it for you.

"Whoa whoa, doll. Slow down you're gonna rub poison ivy on yourself?!" He grabbed your shoulders getting Infront of you. He leaned down to your height, the greyness in his hair shining in your eyes.

"Yes.. I told you not to leave marks." You start walking out the gate pushing into his shoulder. He follows you back out the gate, "Back in my day girls used makeup." He tries to lighten up your mood. You sigh, "Negan.. I told you I can't.. no one can know.".

"What happened to you saying I was a better man?" He leaned on his leg a hint of hurt in his voice. You looked down, a bit ashamed of yourself.

"You are.." you whispered. He walked towards you, "I get it, I'm not a fan favorite out here. But Doll, talk to me.".

"You hurt my family. And me sleeping with you is... Like betraying them" you mumbled. He sighs, "I... I don't regret it. Hell, it was probably the best sex I've ever had... But.." you lose your voice. You look out into the overgrown neighborhood.

"I'll keep it a secret." He speaks up. You turned towards him with hope in your eyes.

"But, don't ignore me. I wanna see that pretty face of yours often." He gently grabs your chin lifting it up. You look into his hazel eyes feeling your heart flutter.

The same eyes that cherished the sight of your body. You leaned into his touch, "Alright. But help me find poison ivy-" you smiled.

"Yes ma'am." He grinned walking into the woods with you. His hand went to the small of your back as the ground became rougher. You smiled to yourself thinking of the night before, this time willingly.

[jpbradley]

Which Primarchs committed tax fraud?

Lorgar claimed tax exempt status as a church. Cited a law from the Age of Strife, rejected after lengthy legal proceedings. Definitely did not instigate the Heresy to avoid paying his substantial fines.

Sanguinius filled his form wrong. He managed to charm the investigating officer into allowing him to resubmit, but failed to file on the ground that he was murdered by Horus. A small percentage of Blood Angels are, to this day, afflicted with anxiety over an unfiled return.

Roboute Guilliman 100% knows how to commit tax fraud, and how to get away with it. Of course he does. He's the tax man (Ultramar regional office). Hates Magnus for reasons we'll get to.

Jaghatai Khan neither knows nor cares what taxes are. The Imperial Revenue took years to track down his address, and after several final demands an investigator visited only to find a lone postbox 300 miles from anywhere, half buried in unopened mail.

Perturabo failed to declare assets 'inherited' from Ferrus Manus and is currently awaiting a trial date.

Ferrus Manus has been given dispensation to defer his return for the tax year on the following grounds:

Being dead.

Lion El'Johnson swears he knows how to commit tax fraud but simply never would. He's lying. He has no idea but would rather walk naked into the Warp than admit it.

Vulkan keeps fastidious notes through the year which makes him very popular with his accountants. They try to convince him to expense his Drakeskin cloaks but he refuses as he wears them recreationally (despite the Salamander's 'business logo') and doesn't want to get into trouble.

Fulgrim completed his return, he really did, but it wasn't right. Currently on his cogitator is 'Tax Return 3 FINAL (FINAL!!).tax' unsent.

Leman Russ vaguely understands that tax is a thing. Thus far nobody can decide if the Space Wolves mix of raucous hospitality and space Viking intimidation towards investigators is a concerted effort to avoid paying or if they're just like that.

Magnus has all the documentation to prove that he's paid. It's all right there. It makes absolutely no sense and somehow he's owed money? Guilliman is convinced he's full of it but hasn't been able to prove it and is quietly seething.

Rogal Dorn pays in full and fully hates anyone who doesn't. He grumbles about it to anyone who will listen, usually within earshot of anyone he suspects isn't paying his way. Magnus & Conrad vocally agree with him. Guilliman leaves the room before he says something he'll regret.

Alpharius definitely submitted a return. Nothing about it looks right, all the numbers are estimates, all the assets are in some kind of code but somehow it's already been stamped as accepted.

Konrad Curze also vocally hates anyone who doesn't pay up. Secretly he hasn't paid in years. He is beyond the pretty laws of 'taxes' and with everyone focused on Lorgar, Perturabo and Magnus he's just slipped through the cracks, which he has taken as a silent endorsement.

Corvus Corax wants to pay tax. He’s tried to pay tax. He’s sent several returns to the Imperial Revenue and still they haven’t taken the money. He’s beginning to get worried. He needn’t be. They have quite simply forgotten he exists and it's gone on too long for them to admit their mistake.

Mortarion pays but hates everything about it. He thinks it's a personal slight and is convinced he is paying more than everyone else. He's right. This makes his whining no less annoying.

Angron had taxes explained to him once and ol' Rusty's sacrifice is why Imperial Revenue officers can wear jeans on Fridays. Since then the IR has practiced a bold 'hands off' approach with the World Eaters, proving that violence is sometimes an answer.

Horus absolutely pays his taxes. In Horusbux: A currency of his own devising. Lorgar attempted to trick Horus into a ponzi scheme, now all of his money is in Horusbux and he has no idea how it happened. Horus keeps on promising everyone massive returns, usually from the deck of his waryacht, the Live Forever II.

[frownyalfred]

Do the people of Gotham know Jason isn’t dead or does he literally not go out unless he’s as Red Hood? I always see different readings that say Jason still chooses to remain legally dead but then he occasionally goes to galas. I just have so many questions, like how does he do anything if he’s legally dead but is actually alive?

Depends on the canon/fanon. I will say that bringing someone back legally isn't the same as having them "debut" in public again post-death, even though they often go hand in hand. Legally bringing someone back from the dead can take years depending on the case and the jurisdiction.

I think it usually makes more sense for Jason to obtain an identity (with cash, threats, etc) that he can live "legally" with but isn't connected to the Wayne family or name.

Whether that was his decision, Bruce's, or both is a more interesting question. In many ways, bringing Jason "back" would threaten the Batfamily and bring unwanted scrutiny. But also, that's his kid! What is he gonna do, legally disown him?

If he's at galas with the Batfamily, and he's using his real name, that usually indicates that he's willing to tie himself publicly to the Wayne name and family. He might not be pursuing legal options for resurrection, but legal dominoes will start falling regardless.

[yumiis]

headcannons for getting drunk with tgc?

like how high their tolerance to alcohol is,

what they usually have,

and stuff similar?

ignore my 'ideas' if you dont wanna do them <3

🫧 anon

absolutely!! i love making hcs like this (i also won't be including larry bc he isn't of legal age to drink :P)

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。 drunk ; tgc boys

　 ﾟ･｡･ﾟ

genre/type: fluff/humor, headcanons

read below!

ISAAC;

absolute unbeatable tolerance. insane tolerance. dude can take 6 shots of everclear and still walk a straight line.

you've only seen isaac blackout ONCE, and it was complete accident. you hadn't seen isaac drinking that much, but he was actually borderline drunk. he asked you in a pretty sober sounding voice, "how many drinks have i had? should i stop?" you say, "i've only seen you take like 2 shots. drink some more!"

horrible move. he blacked out and also woke up with the world's worst hangover.

ever since then though, his tolerance, like i said, is rock solid.

he likes the classic drinks, so i'd say he likes a good screwdriver.

super clingy and COCKY when he's drunk.

drowning you in kisses and hugs, and he goes, "babe, i'm soooo hot. i'm soooo hot and sexy.."

"sure you are."

your two options are to kill his ego or boost it, but it kills you too much to deflate his ego.

"how cocky was i last night?"

"yeah."

TANNER;

moderately normal tolerance, maybe a TINY bit lower than the average person in their mid-20's.

like, if we're measuring in shots of vodka again, like 4 1/2 shots he'd be gone. not black out gone, but "i'm gonna talk about every celebrity i could probably pull" gone.

he's such a YAPPER when he's drunk dude.

will probably do the trend of writing fake band names to try and make you laugh

he's dancing around to loud ass music in the kitchen, invites you to dance with him, he immediately starts shoving himself against you

he won't shut up about how much he loves you

he's definitely got his head in your lap and he's making you play with his hair and listen to him talk

however you have to stop him talking at a certain point, because he'll just start having a crisis and making himself sad.

he's never blacked out, but he has terrible hangovers.

favorite drink? he strikes me as a daiquiri kinda guy. he'd love them.

but if it's more casual drinking at home, he's happy with some soju.

NICK;

literally AVERAGE tolerance.

about 2-3 shots of vodka has him tipsy, 4-6 has him drunk, and don't give him more than 8, he might start drunkenly making an album.

he's not a clear liquor guy, he prefers browns like brandy or scotch.

there is almost ALWAYS a bottle of whiskey in the fridge for nick, he never runs out.

he drinks regularly, but he doesn't HEAVILY drink on those nights.

he's super sleepy when he's drunk. he could literally fall asleep anywhere if given the opportunity

he could be laying on the floor to "stretch his back" he's asleep 10 minutes later

you have to carry this dude to bed (and if you can't do it alone, isaac helps you)

like i said he prefers drinking brown liquors, so i think he'd maybe like a tequila sunrise or just straight whiskey

BLAKE;

"i have a ROCK SOLID tolerance!" dead in 3 shots. don't listen to him lie to you

every time you and the guys go out for dinner at like chilis or something, blake orders a margarita and everyone sighs in unison

the margarita gets him on the verge of drunk. just a little past tipsy.

he can HARDLY casually drink with anyone because his tolerance is just THAT bad

you constantly pick at him for it but he's just accepted it at this point

he's so SILLY when he's drunk man

cracking jokes that do NOT land at all and are not funny unless he's talking to a bunch of drunk people

"so the.. uh.. what? yeah.. uh.."

he suddenly forgets english

he can barely formulate a SINGLE sentence and he's basically speaking in mumbles

he's like speaking in fancy or speaking in riddles like a troll under the bridge or some shit

you have to baby him while he's drunk or he won't know what the hell is going on

i think he honestly.. just likes whatever he can get his hands on.

[pinkcowzz]

something about tim & dick’s relationship makes me feel so. !!!

they are both such complex characters and it really makes my heart feel so heavy to think about them for too long.

like. dick created robin out of his parents blood. the costume was inspired by his family's colors. the name was one he was given by his mother and the only reason he took up the role was because he wanted to get justice (revenge really) for his parents death. he was taken in by bruce who was SO YOUNG at the time and who was still learning how to cope with his own loss still. their relationship was built off of that shared grief and understanding. but then one day, dick learned to let go of that grief. he was able to not let it consume and control him. and he grew tired of living in the dark nest that bruce built for them. and bruce doesn't know how to deal with someone else he loves leaving him so he kicks dick out. like yes bruce is dick's father figure of course he is. but he was also his brother in a weird way. dick didn't want or need for his parents to be replaced so bruce offered him something different. he offered him a partnership. and partners are supposed to be equal but somehow bruce ended up placing himself higher than dick and it was suffocating so he had to leave.

and in dicks absence, bruce finds another kid. this time, it's a kid who does need a parent. jason's relationship with bruce is so different than the one that dick had and i have to imagine that it hurt. it hurts to see your father be better for someone else. it makes you think why? why not me? why wasn't i good enough? and to make matters worse bruce gave away dick's blood without a second thought. jason is given the mantle of robin and my god i cannot imagine the pain it caused dick to see someone else flying around in his colors. that was his name. and dick is still just a kid. yeah he's like legally an adult but his prefrontal cortex was nowhere near developed. so he's bitter and short and rude to jason. he has to take time to get used to having another kid at the manor and another kid in his colors but its fine! its fine! he does come around eventually and his guard starts to come down and he commits to being there for jason. but it was too late. dick leaves the planet to be a hero and when he comes back? jason is dead. the kid he was just starting to get used to is dead.

not only is he dead, but he's already in the ground and bruce? bruce goddamn wayne didn't even bother to tell him. how in the world could bruce ever consider them partners. as far as dick was concerned bruce was just as good as dead to him as jason was. and it hurts. it hurts to not be able to go home without seeing the ghost of a kid you chose not to protect, the ghost of a kid who died too soon wearing the same colors that your parents died in.

so dick doesn't go home. he doesn't speak to bruce. he builds himself a new life, the teen titans become dicks home. and he's okay with this. his origin is so similar to bruce's but he refuses to be the same as batman. so he faces his ghosts. he doesn't let them haunt him. he hears about haly's circus potentially getting shut down and he goes to deal with it.

and here is where dick meets tim drake for the first time. tim who tried to help him save haly's circus (albeit he accused the wrong guy but he was trying). tim tells dick that he needs to save batman.

and so dick brings him back to the manor. where tim tells dick just how important he was to his childhood. tim explains how that night at the circus shaped him just as deeply as it shaped dick. tim shares this complete and utter faith in robin, as if robin is enough to save batman from his own grief. but dick knows this isn't true. dick was barely enough to save himself from his own grief much less bruces. but nonetheless bruce saved dick when he was at his absolute lowest. gave him something to believe in. so maybe, just maybe, he can try again for bruce. but not as robin. it can't be robin. his partnership with batman died when he was kicked out and it was buried when he was kept out of the loop about jason. but tim knows that batman needs more than nightwing by his side. so he takes up the robin mantle. he takes it upon himself to 'save' batman. and in a way, he does. he helps bring bruce back from the edge.

and dick. the last time someone took up his families colors, someone died. and he refuses to allow that again. he refuses to be the reason that tim suffers. so he becomes the older brother he couldn't quite bring himself to be for jason. and to tim? he's wearing the mantle of two robins on his back.

his own standards are set so high and he tries his damndest to meet them every time that he puts on the mask because he knows where the colors of the suit came from. he knows why dick created this identity. he was there. he saw the grayson's fall.

and for a while, things are good between them. things are great even.

then the attack at titan's tower happens. and tim is told that he is just a placeholder (not a replacement like fannon likes to claim, but the words jason todd used were placeholder). and seeds of doubt start to be planted. was he ever wanted? was he ever truly appreciated? he did steal the suit the first time he put it on. was it fair for him to wear the colors that were born of dicks blood and that jason died in?

then tim loses his whole support system. stephanie. bart and kon. his dad. and finally, bruce.

dick has been so committed to never being like bruce. he has been so dedicated to relying on those who offer him help. nightwing is pillar in the hero community, but batman. batman was the foundation. he is considered a founding member of the justice league. he doesn't want to take up the mantle. it had never been in his plans. but jason proved too unstable to take up the role and of course he can't ask tim to. so he dawns the cowl he has grown to hate.

this just leaves one little problem. damian.

damian who has just been dropped off on bruce's porch by talia. damian who grew up in the league of assassins and is so out of place in gotham that dick doesn't know what to do. he never asked to be batman and he definitely never asked to be a father. yet here he is. having to do both. so he does what bruce did all those years ago and provides damian with the mantle that he created in order to give this kid some sort of outlet. he knows damian needs it.

by some unfortunate twist of fate, dick has unknowingly created such a painful parallel between his own firing and tim's.

and then tim discovers that bruce isn't really dead.

and this kills dick just a little bit more. of course he wants to believe tim. of course he wants his dad back. he wants someone else to be the one to make these hard calls and he wants someone else to parent damian. he doesn't want to be the one who has to fire his little brother in order to save the other.

but he can't take that chance. he can't risk the hope. because losing it would actually ruin dick. so he tells tim it isn't possible. because to dick? it can't be possible.

and this just furthers the wedge between the two of them. tim feels abandoned and lost and he feels as if he has nothing left.

and dick doesn't understand why tim can't see that he's right here. he's right here tim i'm still here why aren't i enough for you to stay?

anyway this got away from me a little bit but god their relationship could make angels weep it truly makes my heart stop if i think about it too much.

[secretgamergirl]

It is absolutely ridiculous that I have no way to contact people I care about in 2023.

So I got up today, and saw a big announcement about a certain particularly large company in the games industry did an absolutely massive round of layoffs despite an amazingly good year. You know, as they do. As it so happens, this is a company that, last I checked, employs several people I consider to be pretty good friends, and I feel compelled to toss them a quick message asking if that affected them, ask if poke around on their behalf for freelance work or slap a project of my own real quick they can collaborate on, or whatever.

And it's suddenly sinking in to me that I can't actually do that.

Tabletop game work is writing work, and that means 90% of the networking for most of the past decade or so happened over Twitter. Someone announces they're working on a thing, you message them, e-mails get traded to formally send stuff around. I was on there until I wasn't, so normally, that'd be where I'd be doing my checking in. But that of course is off the table. And like, I don't even have read-access to the site to check if anyone's announcing anything there.

Well, we've traded e-mails, right? We absolutely have. Back when everyone I'm worried about was at this other company, which let this same pile of people I care about and then some go several years ago now. So... those e-mails are no longer valid.

Well, what else is there? Oh right, the one friend has a discord server. It's been super dead for years now since he stopped doing the big weekly social thing it was there for, but it's still - oh, no. It's actually closed out. Same with the one for this freelance artist in that same general orbit... and oh Discord redid usernames and forced everyone to pick new ones. Damn.

Well, there's tumblr here, maybe? Like, there isn't really practically any direct messaging on here but... no, no wait, none of them have posted anything on here since bad policies drove a bunch of people out years back.

There's Facebook? But no, I don't have an account, they're all real legal name focused, and for personal security reasons, I never actually use my legal name anywhere even if I could make one (see, they also insist my name "sounds fake" over at Facebook). Well surely I can just find people's personal websites and send an e-mail but... no, people just don't have personal e-mails anymore, and spam got so bad decades ago now that I can't remember the last time I saw ANYONE post a personal e-mail address anywhere visible. Used to be phonebooks, but I don't think they really adapted to everyone just having a cellphone, and even if they did, they're a local thing.

So yeah. I've got nothing here. Uh... on the off chance anyone's reading this who I'm concerned about, hey, I hope you're OK? I'm still at least periodically checking the e-mails you last used to send things to me? Feel free to reach out and let me know how things are going?

But yeah this just sucks.

[gobbogoo]

How Good Can The TF2 Mercenaries Read?

Heavy: PHD-level reading comprehension! ...in Russian. Knows how to read only basic English, mainly what's relevant to his job. Enjoys writing simple messages to the enemy on the bomb cart. (Dear Red, yer dead!)

Scout: Barely literate. Knows basics necessary for children's comics, but gets caught up on stuff like "ch = sh" in words like "machine," or the extra "b" on the end of "bomb." Mostly relies in guess-work.

Medic: Can read and write both English and German, although his knowledge of the prior stems primarily from medical vocabulary. Has to concentrate when reading more dense English texts.

Spy: Can fluently read English, French, Spanish, Morse Code, and several other languages. The most literate of the team by a long shot.

Engineer: Excellent reading comprehension and vocabulary, as well as an understanding of technical writing. Poetry and metaphor fly right over his head, though. If you're trying to say something, just say it! Sticks strictly to nonfiction.

Sniper: Average reading/writing comprehension. Values books both for information/entertainment and toilet paper/kindling.

Soldier: Has a child's writing/reading comprehension (nothing above a single syllable) UNLESS the text is related to military lingo or legal jargon, both of which he will understand but wildly misinterpret. He often gets bored after the first sentence, so he just guesses what the rest of the text is about and then fully believes that guess with 110% of his soul.

Demoman: Slightly better reading comprehension then Sniper, due to a childhood spent studying chemistry, ballistics, Scottish history, and the Bombinomicon that one time. Nowadays, he isn't often sober enough to make out the words, though. Has memorized the blurry shapes of all the chemicals he uses.

Pyro: A weird case. Pyro-Vision Goggles tells us that Pyro perceives written language as variations of "mmmph," however they seem to derive some meaning from this as they're seen reading a newspaper in the comics. Presumably whatever they "read" is different from what's actually written, though, so it's still inaccurate to say they know how to read English.

BONUS:

Pauling: Has fully mastered speed-reading, and spends a great deal of her time writing/reading documents. She's also a huge fantasy nerd, but hasn't had time to read any in years.

Saxton Hale: Has surprisingly sound reading comprehension, but has Bidwell read everything for him whenever possible. Also authors the official Saxton Hale comics through dictation, but never writes any of it personally to avoid liability.

The Administrator: [Classified]