#and then comes decline

[ziskandra]

Find the Words

Search your works for the given words and post the context of what you find! My given words (from @mxkelsifer) were danger, follow, color and decline.

DANGER

Trucy inched closer to the door, pushing on it gently so she could see more of the kitchen. She could see Daddy then, staring more into the depths of his own cup of coffee than the woman sitting across from him.

“So you’re still staying in contact with the legal community,” the woman asked, and Trucy noticed how the woman’s posture relaxed as she said that, how the grip on her mug was a lot less tight than it had been previously. “Does that mean you be contesting the Bar Association’s decision?” It was Daddy that tensed this time, Trucy noticed. “I don’t have any intention of doing so.” The woman’s face clouded dangerously, and Trucy was sure if she had that whip in her hands, Daddy would be feeling it across his face. The thought made Trucy swell in anger, but she did not run into the kitchen just yet--she wanted to see Daddy take care of himself, now that he wasn’t in immediate danger. “You’re a fool, Phoenix Wright,” the woman snapped. “You come so far, almost defeating me in the process, and you’re telling me that you intend on hiding away like a coward? The media paints you as a hero who can work miracles, but at the end of the day, you can’t even help yourself? You can’t even help the little girl that’s in your care? You disgust me. You’d let one tiny foolish incident stand in your way… clearly, I’d misinterpreted your dedication to the job—”

FOLLOW

While little brother claims he returned to America after his year of epiphany to help me, I cannot help but think that he wanted to help Phoenix Wright instead. I am Franziska von Karma, and I do not need Miles Edgeworth’s help. Those tears I might have shed before my own return to Europe were caused by the stress of not being able to prosecute, nothing more.

So, naturally, when Miles announced his return to the States without even once mentioning it before, I could not help but think that perhaps that Phoenix Wright was involved again. But Phoenix Wright is no longer a practicing attorney, so why would Miles need to help him now?

After two months, when Miles did not return to Europe like I’d anticipated, I decided to follow him back to America. Well, not entirely. I never follow. The cases here in Germany had simply grown stale, and although I despise America and its culture (or, what culture it pretends to have), I cannot deny that whenever I was there, I felt different. Challenged. Alive.

COLOR

Franziska's heart jumped, and it was all she could do to not squirm awkwardly under her sister's continued scrutiny. She'd been feeling out-of-sorts all day, but Lisbeth had done nothing but her best to be inclusive.

Alexander got to his feet, standing just behind his wife’s chair. “Go ahead. Open it.”

Franziska’s fidgety fingers finally made a dedicated attempt at opening the present; colourful paper fell away until only a box remained. After looking up at Alexander's encouraging smile, she continued, opening the lid of her present; it was a very pretty broach, the same color as her eyes. She'd once had one of a similar shade but different shape, but had lost it during a challenging crime scene investigation. Of course, Franziska herself had surmounted the challenge, but her broach had not.

Although it did not match, Franziska affixed the broach to the front of her dress. After some scrutiny, she decided that it would go well with her usual court attire. “You're family,” Lisbeth repeated and it was only once Franziska looked up again that she was taken aback by the warmth of Lisbeth's smile. Von Karmas were not nurturing, but it seemed that the years had affected Franziska's sister; Lisbeth was truly a Paffenholz now. Suddenly awkward for a reason she could not quite decipher, Franziska averted her gaze as she let the feeling rush through her.

Maybe Christmas wasn't so bad after all.

DECLINE

They’re careful in public, of course. Oh, Meredith might still manhandle him with wild abandon, grasping at fistfuls of robes when he particularly draws her ire, but it’s only when they’re in the safety of their own quarters that she brings her mouth crashing down against his, pinning him against the wall with one forearm, knee pressed up against his groin. She’ll kiss him hard enough to bruise, to break the skin if she’s not careful, and she rarely is. Meredith is the Knight-Commander, and this is the only space she has to let go, to be with one of the only people in the whole damn city who’s not scared by her, not even a little bit, and if that’s what she needs, then Orsino is happy to provide, because Maker knows, he needs it too.

With every other templar, Orsino knows he needs to watch his back. Even those who have never personally witnessed a mage turn into an abomination (a number that is rapidly declining in the disaster zone that is known as the city of Kirkwall) watch the mages with suspicious eyes, fingers twitching at any whiff of forbidden magic. And even though he knows it’s Meredith who’s at least nurtured, if not planted, these misconceptions in the minds of those under her command, the fear of an untimely death is the furthest thing from his mind when they’re alone together like this. If she actually wanted to kill him, she’s had plenty of chances already. But he knows, just as she does, that she needs him, just as much as he needs her. If somebody were to replace her, he’d have to learn a whole new playbook, and there’s no guarantee that he’ll be able to work together this … intimately with the next Knight-Commander. And there was always the chance that they could be worse.

Tagging: @genedar, @musashi, @squadron-of-damned, @princefado, @jake-marshall and anybody else who'd like to do this one! Your words are: roast, love, shade & inclination!

[izzystizzys]

“…I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I still don’t quite understand”, Fox says, for what must be the dozenth time that hour. His heartbeat pounds behind his eyes in an incessant drum of hurt, and his head aches with every breath like someone’s taken a rusty fork to the inside of his skull and raked his brain out. Fox’ eyes are beginning to burn the way they start doing around hour 80 of a shift, and he has to suppress the brief urge to check over his shoulder. Not even Stabby could come up with a ploy this contrived to make him sleep. Probably.

In front of him, General Grievous coughs awkwardly, long spindly durasteel limbs shivering with its force. “Certainly”, he vocalizes, in that deep, watery cadence. “For your glorious triumphs in battle, your awe-inspiring victory over me in close combat, and your undeniable warrior spirit, I accept you as my consort. I have proven my skills through the ritual capture, and thus, by Kaleesh custom, we are now wed, Commander Fox. I will honor you as my war-bride, and visit vengeance upon your enemies. I swear it to you.”

Expectantly, Grievous tilts his faceplate to the side, and Fox only just catches the suppression of the manic giggle that wants to escape him. Yeah, probably not Stabby - maybe a dying fever dream? Has the infected gash from that skirmish on the lower levels five rotations ago finally decided to end him? If so, it’s not fast enough for Fox’ tastes.

Here’s how it happened: Fox has no kriffing clue. All he knows is one moment an emergency alert tore him from precious Scream Closet time this morning, he went to rescue the Chancellor’s dumb ass again, and whoop, here he is on General Grievous’ ship with the war-criminal himself declaring them happily married. And eyeing him up and down like a piece of candy.

Why, Fox thinks, desperately, does this always have to happen to me?!

Chancellor’s still kidnapped, by the way. Fox has other priorities for the time being.

“I swear to aim my weapons in your service”, Grievous continues, when it becomes exceedingly clear Fox is not going to break out of his shocked stupor anytime soon. “I swear to aim true and strike with murderous intent, I swear to uphold the sacred bonds of our clans in the name of our union, I swear to raise a strong, bloodthirsty brood of warriors with-“

“Wait”, Fox interrupts, once his brain has caught up past the astromech dial-up sound it seems to be playing on repeat. “Uphold clan bonds? You murder your way through my brothers like a rabid nexu on spice on the regular!”

Grievous’ faceplate, which should be for all intents and purposes totally expressionless, does something that reminds Fox strangely of contrition. It has him gaping and shivering in discomfort, in any case. “A fact I regret, but acknowledge lies in my past before the fateful crossing of our paths. I am a warrior at soul, you must understand, my worthy mate.” Durasteel faceplates don’t turn soft. They don’t. And coughs don’t sound loving. They simply do not. “But I uphold the bonds of these sacred vows under Kaleesh law, that I swear to you, my beloved.”

“All I did was grapple you to the ground”, Fox says, mourningly. “Cody has kicked you in the head dozens of times and you’ve never tried to marry him.”

“He is not you, and his battle lacks the lustful vitality and love of violence of yours”, Grievous declares, and Fox really cannot tell whether the sound that erupts from him is a lovelorn sigh or a hacking death-gurgle. This cannot be his life.

Just then, a droid conveniently enters, putting a pause to all Fox’ sufferings. He’ll need to tell Thorn to research Kaleesh divorce proceedings. Or, better yet - he needs to blow up this whole karking ship including himself and destroy all evidence of this ever happening.

“Generals Kenobi and Skywalker awaiting in custody, Sir”, says the droid, nervously. “They are here to rescue Chancellor Palpatine, but we cut them off just out of the hangar bay.”

Internally, Fox rolls his eyes so hard it hurts his brain. “The Jedi can wait”, Grievous hacks out, and for once Fox agrees with him. Let the two dick around onboard, there’s bigger issues at hand.

“But Sir”, says the droid, all twitchy with an anxiety Fox eternally wonders who the kriff programmed into the damn things, “what if they try to escape and -“

A deep, growling noise erupts from deep within Grievous’ massive metal chest, amplifying Fox’ pounding headache by a thousandfold. “I have no time for this”, he snarls at the cowering droid. “Remove yourself from my and mine beloved’s sight.”

“Roger Roger”, the B2 squeaks, hesitantly, before adding on - “The Chancellor-“

Harrumphing petulantly, Grievous stomps one massive, clawed foot and makes what feels like the whole viewdeck shake. “I will twist his head off his body like a rotten fruit”, he declares. “That will get those pesky Jedi off my ship faster, and then we can continue saying our vows.” He pauses, thoughtfully, and then hooded eyes ringed by what must surely be rotten flesh fix on Fox inexorably. “It will be my wedding gift to you, beloved, an offering of peace to your brothers.”

Fox opens his mouth to protest, but quickly snaps it shut again when his husband already turns tail and storms off.

Huh. Maybe this marriage thing isn’t all bad.

[mysunfreckle]

I was rereading the correspondence included in Pride and Prejudice, and I'm always amused by the "Yours, etc." used at the end of several of the letters simply because it was too much work to write it out the sign off in full. But what really gets me is that Mr. Collins letter to Mr. Bennet at Lydia's elopement is the only one to end with:

"I am, dear sir," etc., etc.

Like Austen is physically tapping you on the shoulder, going: "look, I'm not going to write out any of these commonplace civilities, but I do need you to know that Mr. Collins uses much much more of them"

[sleep-deprived-luka]

could you maybe draw honasaki.. that’d be awesome i think

You are very correct anon

[lemonhemlock]

I did not get into Game of thrones when it first started airing. In fact, I waited until it was long past it's heyday (around s6 or 7) to check it out because the marketing and the conversation surrounding it misled me into thinking it was nothing more than "grimdark" bullshit. As one famous YouTuber sarcastically called it "hot fantasy that fucks." So, I avoided Martin's work for literal years due to the impression that I got from online reactors and show-only casuals who did as you and a few others have described as his work being fundamentally misinterpreted.

Fortunately, I overcame my hang-ups, purchased the books (even the supplementary material) and fell down an entire rabbit hole of ASOIAF which led me to recognizing that this world he spent decades creating is far more complex than what had been portrayed onscreen. Regardless of the possibility of the books remaining unfinished (which I am fine with, personally), what George has created is a genuine work of art that I imagine took a tremendous amount of time and energy. So, for so many people online to behave like children and throw tantrums because they feel entitled to him (ew) instead of ushering forth more reasonable conversations and legitimate debates about the nature of his situation frankly makes me look at this fandom with a heavy dose of skepticism.

It is truly baffling to hear even professional critics and see articles describing George as being "ungrateful" or "unprofessional" when it has been well-documented just how often authors get locked out of the adaptation process and left to the wayside as consultants. Look at what happened to Rick Riordan and Christopher Paolini! George R.R. Martin is not the only author to have qualms with how a multimillion dollar studio has mishandled his creative work, and to act like he should remain silent just because he's amassed a certain degree of wealth is quite frankly, ridiculous. He shouldn't have to settle down, be grateful, and stay quiet because the greedy corporate executives and their media drones will get offended by actual criticism that could alter the perception of the adaption being revealed as mediocre for having departed from the source material.

TLDR: authors should be allowed to speak up about their art being sacrificed for commercialization.

Thank you so much for this message, anon! This needs to be talked about more, because I don't think a lot of commentators truly understand the vulgar, late-capitalistic sheen that seems to set in and slowly poison any ASOIAF adaptation. It honestly baffles me how quick some members of this fandom are to rush to the defense of, what is essentially (let's not be kidding ourselves here), a cashgrab by a giant corporation to the detriment of the actual artist and the actual creative foundation behind it.

Why else would "MAX" (if that is even their name) make another (or several other) ASOIAF adaptations? Not to stay true to any philosophical aesthetic vision, as it has become more than apparent with Season 2, but to increase shareholder profits by appealing to the lowest common denominator. Even the basic premise has been shifted in order to address popular trends and satisfy the mindless consumer that doesn't want to engage with anything deeper than their favourite tropes, prettily packaged:

from a story about a doomed ouroborous family superimposed on the pitfalls of feudalism, with villainy and heroism to be found on both sides, it has been simplified and reduced to a narrative that exalts white feminism and disqualifies anyone who opposes its girlboss protagonist. This is Sheryl Sandberg's version of Fire and Blood.

Truly, I think Sara Hess did (unintentionally) outline it the best: "civilians don't matter in Game of Thrones". They don't matter in Game of Thrones, but they matter in A Song of Ice and Fire. The entire heart of the series is contained in Septon Maribald's speech. The writers "kind of", must have forgotten, though.

[imakemywings]

I know Tolkien never gives a reason why Elros chose mortality, but I am so deeply attached to the idea that he did it not out of romantic love for a mortal, but because he saw something inherently valuable and preferable in mortality. Because he did not want to be immortal. It's a huge decision to make and two of the three would-be immortals who chose mortality do it because they fell in love with a mortal. I love to think of Elros as someone who grew up around immortals and decided that he did not want this for himself, and was content with the choice he made regardless of anyone else in his life.

[myfandomrealitea]

thank you for reaffirming to me that it makes other people really uncomfortable when you are feeling down and need support

I'm sorry Anonymous Individual, your card declined. It appears you've maxed out the balance. Would you like to try another?

[willowser]

anyway, outside of hsr stuff, on my mind heavy today is:

rockstar touya that hits fame dangerously fast in his early twenties, crashes hard before he's thirty, has to take a few years to recover, and meets you while trying to piece himself and his career back together 🥹

[jtl-fics]

Fluent Freshman - Part 03

PREVIOUS

In the Fluent Freshman AU I could see a moment where Andrew kind of misses having Renee around. She was a nice quiet support for him during her time at Palmetto and now she’s graduated. Bee suggests that Andrew try and make a new friend, he can try with someone on the team even.

Andrew, initially, thinks it’s a stupid idea. He real hates pretty much every sophomore (Jack’s group) and pretty much all of the new freshmen irritate him since they’re always trying to steal Neil’s attention with all their fucking problems. The only freshman that he has no opinion on (and therefore is miles and miles ahead of everyone else) is the quiet one that he glowered at pretty early on for staring at Neil’s scars.

Except now, with the knowledge that the kid is a foreign language major, he was probably just trying to figure out what language him and Neil were talking in since the kid isn’t phased at all when Neil absentmindedly used his shirt to wipe away sweat on his face. Everyone else had LOOKED but the kid had just continued on as if it were nothing.

Nicky likes him a fair bit and has assured both Andrew and Neil, after the fourth time the kid power walked away from them, that he’s not homophobic just due to circumstances public displays of affection make him deeply uncomfortable. The Foxes have pasts and if the kid isn’t going to make it their problem then Andrew isn’t about to get irritated over it.

(Nicky doesn’t elaborate that those circumstances being that he understands that Andrew is telling Neil all the places (geographical locations) that he wants to kiss Neil and where he’d do it. He’s really not a prude but how did watching Cars 2 result in this level of dirty talk?! He’s just trying to actually get to see these movies everyone keeps referencing so that he can join in on the conversation)

The kid’s quiet company the few times Andrew’s been in it and Neil has been making some slow progress on getting the kid to open up. Andrew knows that the kid has his own weekly meetings with Betsy and he’s not about to pry.

(It’s social anxiety and stress related. No he has not told Betsy about the whole Russian situation because she’d be mad at him right? Everyone keeps telling him that Betsy and Andrew Minyard are close and that Andrew is her favorite even if she can’t admit to having something like that. She’s nice but what if she gets mad about it and tells Wymack that he’s not fit mentally to be on the team? Then what? He can’t afford college without a sports scholarship. Oh god- Betsy spends a lot of time walking him through stress relief and not worst case scenario-ing every interaction)

Andrew figures that if nothing else this kid is fine with sitting in stony silence. If it doesn’t work then w/e he tried.

So, to Fluent Freshman’s absolute horror and dismay, Andrew Minyard starts to hang around him even when Captain Neil ISN’T AROUND. He becomes unbeatable at Poker and fluent in Japanese if not fully literate.

Once it’s just Andrew and Fluent Freshman sitting in absolute silence for an hour. This might be the nicest time Andrew’s had with someone not part of his family since Renee left. “You ever consider learning Russian?” Andrew asks.

Fluent Freshman’s award winning performance starts here.

“No, I have never considered taking Russian classes here.” He responds turning a page in his book on Esperanto (he thinks it’d be fun) because why take a class for a language he’s already fluent in. He’s bad at lying but he’s GREAT at just not saying the truth.

Andrew doesn’t say anything in response and they continue to sit in silence until Fluent Freshman has to get up and go quietly have a panic attack.

Everyone, except Nicky, all think that Fluent Freshman’s the second coming of Andrew’s general apathy. Bee is proud of Andrew for willingly sitting next to someone in almost complete silence. Andrew says it helps that there’s someone else like him (Bee is confused because Fluent Freshman is known to bring his own brown paper bag to hyper-ventilate into but she says nothing.)

Only Nicky knows the full extent. Fluent Freshman is doing breathing exercises, taking pepto bismol to help his stress related stomach ulcer, and considering using his art gen-ed for theater so that he can commit to this bit better.

Fluent Freshman kind of gets used to Andrew’s quiet company until one day they’re an hour and a half into their usual absolute silence when Fluent Freshman gets up to grab something Andrew looks at him and goes “Hey wanna learn how to use a knife?” And Fluent Freshman stiffens up and straight up faints.

NEXT

[writeouswriter]

Too much capitalism in Christmas and not enough in Halloween, companies need to start slapping little bats and pumpkins back onto their packaging asap

[astrobei]

52 year old mike wheeler and will byers are hosting a star wars day watch party at their house today btw. i know bc they invited me ❤️

[t-u-i-t-c]

"You actually were alive?"

[uncanny-tranny]

I think it's only natural to feel anger when somebody isn't "taking your advice" or listening to you about their mental health or what will help them. People want to help people, and the anger comes when you are perceiving somebody as not being receptive but...

It can be a selfish impulse to say that your opinion about their illness is the only thing they need. It isn't about you, even though the advice you give is given by you.

Nobody deserves to suffer, this is true. But, also, nobody deserves to be forced to do things that either won't help or won't be genuine. If somebody isn't taking your advice, there's a reason for it (maybe it's not a good enough reason for you, but this isn't the point). It's okay to be disappointed or angry, but it's not going to help to lash out at them. That is only pouring water onto a grease fire.

[ear-motif]

i understand will graham completely by the way

[pineapplefulfillseveryneed]

Sparkstember day 11: Angst In My Pants✨

[dreamings-free]

guys.. krystle isn’t "leaving"..? this LT gig isn’t like a steady permanent employment she’ll be off to work on other projects with other clients while louis works on LT3.. and it’ll probably be a good while until louis will need her work on a regular basis for appearances and live performances (will long hair louis return for the LT3 development period ??! 👀)

she’s just being sentimental because it’ll be at least 1-2 years before the whole crew will all be together again for another tour (and some will have moved on to other gigs..) and these people have all been part of her almost daily life for 3 years now. all the team, band and crew will be doing other things while louis works on new music (..except his management of course) - but most of them will likely be back for LT3 promo and tour