you:What the fuck why is this in court, he obviously didn't do shit and the white bitch a hoe with a crazy bitch ass father, y'all are just racist af, let the man go #BlackLivesMtter
Atticus, an intellectual:To begin with, this case should never have come to trial. The state has not produced one iota of medical evidence that the crime Tom Robinson is charged with ever took place... It has relied instead upon the testimony of two witnesses, whose evidence has not only been called into serious question on cross-examination, but has been flatly contradicted by the defendant. Now, there is circumstantial evidence to indicate that Mayella Ewel was beaten - savagely, by someone who led exclusively with his left. And Tom Robinson now sits before you having taken the oath with the only good hand he possesses... his RIGHT. I have nothing but pity in my heart for the chief witness for the State. She is the victim of cruel poverty and ignorance. But my pity does not extend so far as to her putting a man's life at stake, which she has done in an effort to get rid of her own guilt. Now I say "guilt," gentlemen, because it was guilt that motivated her. She's committed no crime - she has merely broken a rigid and time-honored code of our society, a code so severe that whoever breaks it is hounded from our midst as unfit to live with. She must destroy the evidence of her offense. But what was the evidence of her offense? Tom Robinson, a human being. She must put Tom Robinson away from her. Tom Robinson was to her a daily reminder of what she did. Now, what did she do? She tempted a Negro. She was white, and she tempted a Negro. She did something that, in our society, is unspeakable. She kissed a black man. Not an old uncle, but a strong, young Negro man. No code mattered to her before she broke it, but it came crashing down on her afterwards. The witnesses for the State, with the exception of the sheriff of Maycomb County have presented themselves to you gentlemen, to this court in the cynical confidence that their testimony would not be doubted, confident that you gentlemen would go along with them on the assumption... the evil assumption that all Negroes lie, all Negroes are basically immoral beings, all Negro men are not to be trusted around our women. An assumption that one associates with minds of their caliber, and which is, in itself, gentlemen, a lie, which I do not need to point out to you. And so, a quiet, humble, respectable Negro, who has had the unmitigated TEMERITY to feel sorry for a white woman, has had to put his word against TWO white people's! The defendant is not guilty - but somebody in this courtroom is. Now, gentlemen, in this country, our courts are the great levelers. In our courts, all men are created equal. I'm no idealist to believe firmly in the integrity of our courts and of our jury system - that's no ideal to me. That is a living, working reality! Now I am confident that you gentlemen will review, without passion, the evidence that you have heard, come to a decision and restore this man to his family. In the name of GOD, do your duty. In the name of God, believe... Tom Robinson.
Harold woke up the next morning a smile on his face,
he couldn’t keep it off his face, even as he showered, shaved, and got ready
for work. He felt like an idiot, but
couldn’t stop thinking about John and their upcoming lunch date.
He got a few looks from security as he walked into
the IFT building, he heard a few comments, that someone must’ve gotten
laid. He rolled his eyes, ignoring their
comments and made his way up to his server rooms.
The project was about finished, and he was hopefully
able to showcase what The Machine could do for the NYPD. He had the idea after 9/11, to help First
Responders and Officers communicate better between precincts and
departments. He was able to tap into
their programs, letting the Machine pull together any case files, finger
prints, previous convictions, drug tests, and even family services, then give
back the information to the Officers.
The idea being criminals wouldn’t slip through the cracks because no one
knew the 12th Precinct was working a similar case as the 9th. The only problem he was having, was it was
going beyond the perimeters and starting to alert them to crimes that could
happen. It was something he needed to
talk to Detective Carter, when she came in to look at the program.
He settled in front of the monitors, and dived into
the coding to see where it was changing and advancing. Harold wasn’t sure how long he was there,
getting lost in the beauty of his creation.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a black shape slide across his desk,
then disappear. There was the scraping
sound of shoes and the distinct squeak of a rolling desk chair being
pushed. He looked up just in time to see
Nathan settle in front of his desk.
“I brought you tea.”
“I have tea.” He held up his cup, taking a sip, then went
back to coding.
“Oh dear God.” Nathan’s smile got wider as he studied his
friend. "You have the look of a man
who’s gotten laid.“
"I actually didn’t.” Harold kept scrolling through the coding,
copying pieces of it to study it later.
“John was a complete gentleman, unlike some people I know.”
“Harold how could you not tap that tight
ass.” He almost looked
“Because unlike some people I know.” He
gave Nathan a pointed look. "I
don’t put out on the first date.“
"But that ass.”
“What did you expect for us to get it on in
some dark alley after dinner?”
Harold stared at him over his glasses.
T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending, about anything at all (gender identity, sexual or romantic orientation, extended family, sexual preferences like top/bottom/switch, relationship with poetry, seriously anything)
※ Please note that there will be spoilers. I’ll put an alarm again before those bullet points in which contained finale spoilers.
“The Eleventh Hour,” 11th Doctor hadn’t finished his regeneration when he went back to find grown-up Amy, while Amy had believed in the Doctor for so many years. I think parts of 11th’s personality were built by Amy’s imagination and then became a real part of him during the episode. That’s the first time we saw Amy brought something back using her memories. Just the direction was a bit messy.
When Clara Oswald and 12th Doctor weren’t running in adventures, they spent their time in the TARDIS’ library. They loved to randomly pick up a book and made a bet about whether the writer would act or think in a certain way. They enjoyed the debating a lot. Sometimes they used the TARDIS to check out who was right.
Apart from Jane Austen, Clara also loves Virginia Woolf a lot. (Credits to twelveclara’s amazing fanfictions.)
After “Last Christmas,” sometimes Clara and 12th Doctor talked about Danny Pink.
///// Series 9 Finale Spoilers /////
The only confession happened in “Hell Bent” was a love confession and it happened between Clara Oswald and 12th Doctor, in the cloister. That’s also why Time Lords had a hybrid prophecy in the first place. Because the cloister was a database and everything broke into it got filed. Clara and 12th said their confession literally there, so it was filed in that super computer, too. And it, even if the Doctor can’t remember for now, became a legend told between Time Lords. One day, an
Academy student got in the cloister and heard the
story from the Sliders. He was afraid. Not long after, he stole a TARDIS running away. I believe in this so much. Everything Moffat wrote was a freaking loop!!!
The Doctor seldom dreams, but he still does. Sometimes he dreamed of a girl who did the impossible, sometimes a woman who was brave, full of rage, and kind. He dreamed of someone’s smile and tears. Every time his dream felt more and more familiar, like it could move and was walking toward him. Maybe it’s a premonition dream. Maybe he would meet that mysterious woman one day. So he kept running. (But premonition, like once he said, was just remembering in the wrong direction. He forgot that.)
Just like icebergs, memory block could suppress memories into under the sea level, but it couldn’t erase what was already internalized subconsciously. So that’s how the Doctor sensed Clara’s existence now. Sometimes when he wanted to act in a certain way, he felt wrong, and he found another way. And in every after thought, he would think why did he do that and then he would smile a little. It’s strange, though, to recognize something’s existence by its absence and vice versa. But the universe is huge and vast. There must always be some paradox.
In her last visit to the TARDIS, Clara helped the TARDIS to make the new screwdriver for the Doctor. Its color similar to Clara’s waitress dress. She thought it’s a nice thing to do, because the universe is huge and vast, and he’d need a hand to hold.
/Person of Interest
John “Reese doesn’t know what to do with people who aren’t trying to manipulate him.” (Copied word for word from iteration’s tag of their fic, “An Unstoppable Force.” It’s so convincing and soon became my headcanon.)
As mentioned above, it’s frustrating to work with Finch at the beginning. Apart from the latter’s mysterious, what troubled John the most was Finch’s unbelievableness. Finch didn’t cut him loose when he should. Finch didn’t use something, which John was sure he knew, to manipulate him. Finch didn’t ask things he apparently wanted from John when he could, and John knew everyone in Finch’s position would. Harold Finch was the most frustrating human being John Reese had ever met.
Everything Harold Finch decided to do to the Machine reflected how he saw and considered to do to himself.
When Harold was a little kid. He loved fairy tales.
One of John’s alias married to one of Harold’s. At first, it’s just a reasonable contingency plan for them could reach to all the resources. At first. (Credits to managerie76. I saw this somewhere on the blog. It’s so convincing and must have happened.)
At first, when they wanted to say or do something to the other but considered it maybe too affectionate, they said it or did it to Bear. Eventually, this became a mutual unspoken understood flirting involved Bear.
I am not good at recognizing people’s faces BUT in “Zero Day” when the Machine produced a human alias to represent itself, one of those photos used was Reese’s.
At the end of “All In,” John and Harold’s conversation about growing old with the one they loved was a “one dialogue, two conversations” conversation. John had lost Jessica, and he wouldn’t dream to grow old with Harold because, well, he might die tomorrow. When Harold said that he would grow old with Grace from afar, he was forbidding himself to mess his love ones’ life, as he gradually realized what he had done to Grace. And of course, he wouldn’t ask that from John, after John’s bosses had asked and taken everything from him and then dumped him. The best situation Harold could dream of was staying like what they were and tried to postpone their inevitable death, like what they did on the rooftop. DON’T WORRY ALL THESE MISUNDERSTANDING GOT RESOLVED EVENTUALLY YAY.
About John and Harold’s strangely changed dynamic through season 4 and 5, to the part of mine who accepted that… to the accepting!me, it’s like an aftermath of breaking up. Couples do break up all the time, and sometimes it because of some external factors. BUT EVERYTHING GOT SORTED EVENTUALLY. (and the denying!me? still in denial.)
///// Series Finale Spoilers ///// And Certainly Not A Happy One /////
John and Harold thought about their death all the time. They just not always talked about the topic with each other, and they secretly hope that, if what they did help the world a little, they deserved that they could die to make sure the other one would be safe. They both made some preparations in advance. After Harold came down from the building, treating his wound, and got back to wherever his home was, he threw away his message written and a whole file prepared a long time ago. There was no use of them anymore. Not surprisingly, he found a similar one organized by John when he was trying to take care of the rest of things. It included a letter, things John thought he might want to keep, and a favor he wanted from Harold. A favor involving someone who could remember his name and a city of Italy. And Harold did as he was told. It’s too hard for him to refuse what John Reese asked, especially when the latter almost never asked anything from him.
(and the denying!me? still in denial.)
I don’t think I’ll die defending a character’s sexuality (because imo the best way is to open it to interpretation), but I’ll happily see Sherlock as asexual.
Mary and Sherlock do love each other. With lots of tension, yes, but they will die or kill for each other.
Same as the first point of Sherlock, but I’ll
happily see James Hathaway as biromantic asexual.
I haven’t watched the last season, so I know nothing about the finale, but I think Lewis, Laura, and James lived together as partners and a family will be perfect. Lizzie and her husband visited them on weekends.
/Roméo et Juliette: de la Haine à l'Amour
Since I just watched this French musical last weekend and have many feels, I’d like to say that, seriously, no one can convince me that Mercutio didn’t have a one-side crush to
Romeo. But you know those two families were definitely unhealthy and
for their children, and Mercutio
might be abused. And suffered from that, he might still be confuse about his feelings toward Romeo until the moment he died :( (I want a fix-it au in which
Tybalt, as victims of their family, help each other to deal with and overcome their childhood though.)
Riza stood silently next to Finch as he grinned maliciously at Roy who was once again strapped to the chair in the dark room he had been locked in for over a week. She seemed unable to meet Roy’s gaze and he didn’t know if that was because she didn’t want to ever see his face again or if it was because she was too unfocused, too far removed see things clearly. Where was she? Where was the Riza that Roy knew?
At least she was no longer bound in straps and chains. She was free and that was a small consolation to him. If she was safe then it didn’t matter if she hated him.
“As you can see,” Finch’s voice cut into Roy’s thoughts and he tore his eyes from Riza to glare at the man at her side. His place was at her side. He should have been next to her and just seeing Finch standing where he should have been was enough to make Roy furious. “She doesn’t care what happens to you. She’s with me now.”
Finch grinned like a shark and placed his hand on Riza’s shoulder, pushing her toward the door as he leaned in close to her ear.
If you ever feel like you’ve made a dumb mistake, consider this. When I was 10, a friend asked if I wanted some of her finches, and I misunderstood WTF a finch was so badly that I thought she was hooking me up with a ferret. I am 26 now and I still have finches. I have spent the last 16 years living with obnoxious little birds because my dumb 10 year old self thought I was getting a domesticated weasel.