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darkeunology · 3 days

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♡ Love is the Warmest Colour ♡

Word Count: 3228 (I'm amazed it's this long)

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of gunshot injuries, normal Criminal Minds violence, kidnapping, torture mentions (No explicit details)

Summary: In a world where soulmates feel each other's pain, you and Derek seem to be oblivious to each other's pains.

Not proof read. Not sure how I feel about this one tbh.

Soulmate: Noun: A person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.

Everyone in the world had someone who was destined to be their soulmate. It was a tale told to every child as a bedtime story, the exact way soulmates were known to each other. Shared pain - all soulmates in the world feel each other’s pain, Every scratch, punch or bump, soulmates feel it all but are never left with the physical marks from the injuries.

Maybe not so surprisingly, a lot of people never actually found their soulmates, getting injured close enough to your soulmate so that both of you would realise anything was quite rare a feat, most people gave up trying to find their soulmate by their 20s, not wanting to waste their life trying to find the person suited best for them. Including you, once you’d hit 25, you’d given up - you thought it would be great if you did ever find them, but you weren’t holding out hope for it anymore, you’d now just ignore any of the pains you’d ever felt from your soulmate, which annoyingly for you, was a very common occurrence.

—---------

As a child, a common question that was asked during class was ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’ Everyone else in the class would always have an answer to this, Vet, Astronaut, Writer, Fireman, to name a few, but you never once had an answer, never a clear one anyway, you had no idea what you actually wanted to do in life, and even once you’d finished high school, you chose to not go to college, instead choosing to unfortunately bounce between jobs, starting out at retail, before moving to waitressing until eventually moving to the job you were in now, a barista at your local coffee shop.

It wasn’t quite the life you or your parents had ever imagined for you, but you were happy enough; sure, you were living paycheck to paycheck, and you weren’t really able to treat yourself as much as you’d wished to, but it worked for you, and now, being in your 20s, you weren’t really sure how you could do anything else with your life.

It wasn’t until the day you very nearly died when you decided you wanted to do something different.

You’d just finished a lunchtime shift at the coffee shop, planning to go to the store quickly before you went back to your apartment, a good friend of yours coming round to have a girls night together after a long week at work. You never managed to make it home that night. Whilst walking to the store, a van stopped next to you, a young man poking his head out the window, asking you how to get to the highway from where he was. After quickly telling him where to drive, you turned your back to the van, about to start walking again when you felt yourself be grabbed from behind, a large hand covering your mouth to stop a scream from escaping - no matter how hard you tried to fight off the hands on you, nothing would loosen his grip as he pulled you into the back of the van, landing a quick, hard punch to your head, knocking you out immediately.

When you finally woke up, you were tied up on what felt like a dentist’s chair. All your clothes except for your underwear missing from your body. A shiver ran through your body from the chill in the room you were in, the chill getting worse when the men who kidnapped you walked into the room you were in, menacing smirks lining their faces.

Once your friend hadn’t been able to get in contact with you after you’d failed to get back to your apartment after work, they called the police, knowing that you would never be late coming home without letting her know beforehand, she knew deep down something had happened to you, especially with the news recently of young women being kidnapped and murdered in the are you lived in. She’d seen on the news that the FBI had already been called in after the last murder after seeing the press conference on the news the other night, she told them everything they needed to know and hoped that they’d be able to find you in time.

Unsure of just how much time it had been since you’d been kidnapped, all you could focus on was the pain running through your body from the hours of torture you’d had to endure. It felt like you’d been here for days when in reality it had only been a few hours. The only thing that had kept you going the whole time was the hope that your friend called someone when you never showed up to meet her at your apartment. That hope finally coming true when a tall, dark skinned man jogged into the room, FBI vest on his body and a gun held firmly in his hands, “I’ve got the victim.” he spoke into his comms before placing his gun back into his holster, walking up to you, a gentle smile on his face, “Hey, sweetheart. I’m agent Derek Morgan with the FBI. You’re safe now alright. Medics are on their way down.” he spoke gently, his hands moving to carefully untie you from the chair.

Derek stuck by your side every moment until they put you in the back of the ambulance, keeping you comfortable as everything buzzed around you, only leaving you when the ambulance left for the hospital.

He was the one good thing you tried to focus on whenever you had nightmares about the kidnapping. It took months of therapy, months of being scared to leave your house alone again before you were finally ready and able to do something about your life. You guess it’s because of what you went through, but you decided that you wanted to do what was done for you, you wanted to help people in the worst moments of their lives; so you went back to school, studying criminal profiling and psychology, graduating 3 years later before luckily managing to get a position in the BAU, the same unit who saved you nearly 4 years previously.

—--------

Derek remembered when he was told about soulmates by his parents, his sisters told him afterwards that they all had the same talk when they were the same age. He was told one night as he was being put to bed, his parents telling him that there was one special person in the world who was a perfect fit for him, a person who he might never find but someone that would never be better for him. He was told that was how his parents met each other, his dad being hurt during a police job with his mother luckily being close enough to him that they knew almost in that moment they were meant for each other. He was told that any physical pains he would ever have would be felt by his soulmate and any pains his soulmate had would have, he would feel himself.

As Derek grew older, he never really put much thought into soulmates, he knew how unlikely it actually was that he’d ever meet his true soulmate, with just how big America was, and the fact they might not even be American. He just figured that if he was going to find his soulmate, it would happen naturally - so, like most people, he dated anyone he wanted to, not caring, nor worrying if they weren’t his soulmate.

At night sometimes, as much as he would never tell people, he would often imagine what life might be like with his soulmate, or just exactly how he would meet them. He mildly envied the people who had actually managed to find their soulmate, wondering how they got so lucky with how large the world is.

Sometimes Derek would think he didn’t even have a soulmate, he often wouldn’t feel any random pains, only sometimes getting a pain in his foot, almost like his soulmate had just stubbed their toe somewhere - or sometimes a harsh pain in his arm, maybe a needle injection or someone hitting their shoulder too hard as they walked past them.

So, even as Derek was for some reason in a lot more pain than he normally was, he didn’t really think too much of it. He was used to pain from his job so it didn’t really feel like much to him, he thought you were just going through a bad day.

He never connected the pieces, even after his pain stopped once you’d been rescued.

—-------

Nervous was an understatement as you stood in the elevator going up to the BAU office, you hid it behind a gentle smile as the doors opened, asking the first person you saw how to find Aaron Hotchner’s office.

After getting your directions, you headed through the glass doors into the main office, walking up to Hotchner’s office to the curious looks of the other members of the team. You knocked on the door, walking in once you’d heard a ‘come in’ from the other side of the door.

“Hi. Aaron Hotchner?” you asked, a smile on your face as you held your box full of your things in your hands,

The man nodded behind his desk, standing and walking round the other side to be able to shake your hand, something you were just able to do with the box you were balancing. “Hi, yes. You must be Y/N,” he spoke, waiting for your nod of acknowledgement before he continued, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Everyone else has just gone into the meeting room. I’ll show you your desk then we’ll go up to meet everyone.” he explained, a small smile on his face the whole time, before he led you out of his office, quickly showing you your desk so you could place the box down before leading you up to the meeting room, walking in before you, “Everyone, meet our new agent, this is Y/N L/N.” he spoke to the team,

It took a moment for everyone to introduce themselves, Derek was the last to speak, “You seem familiar,” he spoke after he’d said his name. Everyone else took that to mean something different, since they all knew what Derek was like most of the time, so they were surprised when they heard Spencer speak, “Yeah, he’s right.” Causing the rest of the team to try and remember why two of their team knew your face.

Sighing lightly, you glanced at Aaron, who already knew of your past, he nodded gently, signalling that you can tell them if you wanted to, “I must just have a familiar face.” you spoke, shrugging your shoulders.

Thankfully for you, the team dropped it. Derek still giving you looks every so often, trying to figure out where he knew you from.

—----

It had been a few weeks of working in the BAU, you’d managed to fit into the team really well. Already going on many girls nights with JJ, Emily and Garcia. You got on with the males in your team as well, but nowhere near as well as the girls. Garcia being the one you told everything to, including the day you were kidnapped and rescued by the BAU, and opening up to her about the small feelings you had for a certain Derek Morgan.

You’d also had a lot more pains from your soulmate in the past few weeks, nothing too bad, just some hard hits every so often, one being a nasty hit on your ribs one day at the end of a case, you standing with Emily and practically doubling over in the sudden pain that shot through your abdomen, “You good?” Emily asked, concern laced through her voice,

“Yeah.” you gasped out, “I don’t know what happened, that just really hurt for a moment.”

“Must be your soulmate.” Emily spoke, you nodded in response,

“Yeah, it must be.”

When you and Emily found out that Derek had been shot in his abdomen, luckily only causing a harsh bruise due to his vest, Emily was the only one who connected the dots about the pain you felt that day, deciding not to tell anyone else about her thoughts.

—-----

“You alright sugar?” Garcia spoke when she saw Derek, noticing the obvious look of discomfort on his face,

“Yeah, baby girl. Just got an awful headache, I took painkillers ages ago and it just hasn’t done anything.” he spoke, rubbing his temples, he knew from the fact that painkillers hadn’t worked that it would be a soulmate pain,

“Soulmate maybe?” Garcia spoke,

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” He spoke, smiling at Garcia before getting back to work.

It wasn’t until he sat down at his desk and saw you taking some painkillers when something clicked, “You good Y/N?” Derek asked, grabbing your attention and the attention of Emily who was sitting nearby at her desk.

“Really bad headache. Painkillers are only helping a small amount.” you sighed.

Emily was only looking towards Derek, a knowing look on her face, watching as Derek looked towards her, realisation slowly showing on his face, “Let me know if I can do anything to help.” he spoke, before turning back around, his only thought being that his soulmate was potentially his colleague.

—----------

Oftentimes when you’d come into work, you’d go into Garcia’s bat cave, getting her some coffee and having a little chat before the work began.

A knock on the door interrupted you and Garcia this morning, “We’re meeting now. We have a new case.” JJ spoke as she poked her head in, her face looking grim. Both of you stood, grabbing your coffee mugs and heading over to the meeting room, being the last two to come in,

“We’re going to Florida.” JJ spoke, turning on the TV on the wall, “There’s been a series of murders, all women in their late 20s, all being found dumped in remote areas.”

“Any sexual assault?” Derek asked.

“All of them had signs of sexual assault, yes.” JJ answered. “Newest victim is Stephanie Leigh, she was kidnapped yesterday evening after a night out at a local club.”

“All of these women were killed two days after they were kidnapped, meaning we have under 48 hours to find her alive.” Hotch spoke, his face serious like always, “Wheels up in 20.” he finished, getting up from his seat first as everyone else followed.

—--------

You and Derek were in the car driving to the club where the recent victim was taken from,

“I think I figured out where I remember you from.” Derek spoke, filling the silence that had surrounded you both for a while,

“Oh yeah.” you spoke, knowing that Derek probably had, and dreading having to tell him he was right.

“I think around 4 years ago, maybe more, we were called out to a local kidnapping case, the local cops were investigating someone kidnapping local young females and murdering them after torturing them for a few days, normally 2, but he’d accelerated his timeline on the last victim. We’d found the last body then a few hours later we were told of someone else being kidnapped - it was you.” He turned to look at you for a moment before putting his eyes back on the road,

“You were the one that found me first.” you spoke. Silence filled the car again for a moment, “I never told any of you purely because I just wanted to try and forget about it. I figured some of you might recognise me, but I hoped that you’d rescued so many people that you wouldn't necessarily remember one person you’d helped. Clearly though, you knew, and I think so does Spencer.” you looked towards Derek, “I’ll tell everyone else eventually”

“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” he spoke quietly,

“Don’t be.” You shook your head, “I needed to thank you anyway. All of you really. But you stayed by my side from the moment you found me until the ambulance left,” you paused, looking back at Derek, “I don’t think you realise how much I appreciated that.” you finished quietly, a sad tone in your voice.

Derek turned and nodded gently at you, not saying anything else until you guys arrived at the club, continuing on with the case you were working.

—--------

“I think we found our guy.” Hotch spoke after Garcia had finished her round of research she was given, the team headed out, finding the warehouse where the unsub should be holding the missing girl, rushing to get there before he murdered her just like the others.

Spencer and you went round the back together along with some swat agents and other cops, checking each room until you saw the unsub running from you both, alerting the agents who were left outside, Derek being one of them.

“We found the victim, she’s alive.” Emily spoke into the comms, just before Hotch spoke,

“Offender running on foot northwest, me and Derek are in pursuit.” Spencer, you, Emily and Rossi all ran out of the warehouse, knowing the victim was safe with the rest of the police and the medics, hopping in one of the SUVs and going out to find Hotch and Derek.

All in one moment, the most intense pain you’d felt before rang through your shoulder and your leg, causing you to yelp out in pain, making everyone else in the car jump, “Y/N!” Spence exclaimed, being the one sitting next to you in the back, “You okay?” he asked, at the same time Hotch spoke on the radio,

“Shots fired, Agent down. I need medics to my location.” he practically shouted, the message finishing just as the SUV turned the corner to the alley they were in, Derek on the floor with Hotch knelt next to him.

Confusion rung through you, the realisation never actually hitting you due to the pain in your body distracting you too much to think straight, “I can’t believe you’re a profiler and you haven’t figured it out yet.” Emily chuckled lightly, looking towards you with disbelief.

“What?” you asked dumbly,

“Get out the car and go to your damn soulmate.” she spoke again. You didn’t even think twice once the realisation hit you in the face, you jumped out the car, kneeling on the other side of Derek, one hand cupping his face,

“Hey sweetheart.” he spoke, a small smile on his face even through the pain of the wounds.

“Hey soulmate.” you smiled, “That hurt quite a lot you know?” finishing with a chuckle, Derek also chuckling before groaning in pain. “Sorry.” you whispered, noticing the pain he was in.

“I’m taking you on a date once I’m better.” Derek told you, one of his hands coming to hold yours which was still on his face.

“You better.” chuckling, you leant down and laid a small kiss on Derek’s forehead as the rest of the team watched on, smiles on their faces, relieved that the two of you finally figured it all out, even if you needed Emily to spell it out for you to realise.

#derek morgan #criminal minds #derek morgan x reader #criminal minds x reader #derek morgan fluff #derek morgan angst #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst

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lizardsfromspace · 2 days

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NEW YORK CITY - It's a bird, it's a plane, it's not Superman, but it's the next best thing. The world was shocked this week when the first individual with superpowers began fighting crime, first by interrupting a police chase in Manhattan, and soon by declaring: the world is now safe.

He may not fly, but The Vortex is able to travel across the world with his ability to make teleportation portals. According to our exclusive interview, he discovered his abilities and vowed to fight crime last week, and after a week spent modifying several worn Korn t-shirts into his all-black superhero suit, he was ready.

It was quite a shocking sight for live TV viewers. Bam! Pow! The Vortex ended the chase by bursting from a portal inside the criminal's stomach, causing the bad guys to instantaneously burst apart into villainous goop. But when everyone realized this was no murderer, but a hero, the scene calmed down, as the responding police asked for The Vortex's autograph.

"I'm the hero," The Vortex told us exclusively. "I knew I couldn't do a bad thing because bad guys do bad things, and I'm the hero."

"So you're still working out the kinks in your powers?" Our reporter asked with a laugh.

"What?"

Children are loving this Marvel comic come to life; when a family of seven were held hostage by their uncle, the Vortex saved the day by materializing inside the uncle's bloodstream and gradually expanding, causing the uncle to distend in a manner befitting bad guys and then explode. When the youngest girl was interviewed, after throwing up from the trauma of being held hostage by her own uncle, there was a endearing little gaffe as she said "I don't know, now I think maybe it would have been good if my uncle had shot me, before -" she vomited once more; her confusion over who's the good and the bad guy can be attributed to her evil-adjacency-induced malaise.

But all is not so clean and beautiful. In Cleveland, when a deranged gunman tried to assassinate the assistant executive assistant to the mayor, the Vortex responded - but the gunman unfortunately used some unknown form of "counter-power" to relocate the portal into the executive assistant assistant's midsection, causing his separated but still conscious upper half to fall through the sky and back onto his legs. Unfortunately, he died despite this. The Vortex was quoted as saying, "it's very sad. I wanted to do that trick but I hoped they would be put back together. The evil man made it so we couldn't put them back together. But I'll do it. I'll put them back together next time."

Spoken like a true hero! We can rest easy knowing that he can appear anywhere, anytime, inside anyone, but only if they're a bad guy who's evil.

#unreality cw #writing #superheroes #body horror #long post

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miraculousmaker · 1 day

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SPOILERS FOR TMAGP 8

LIVE REACTION

Reading distortion right away. Liminal spaces??

Honestly, this is really easy to just sit through. This incident is really just life, huh?

Panopticon parallel

Desire to fill a space, but also bask in the emptiness

Similar to a stewardess?

Going from one limbo to another. Being surrounded by people, talking without words and still being alone. Copy/paste as if they were all avatars, or mirroring real people

Empty holes mimicking windows. Empty bellies, empty souls.

Why would missing parts of someone’s body be because of falling from a tower? Are the police ignoring stuff in this world too?

Alice is such a bitch in the best way. She’s so tired. She doesn’t even know why.

Colin on mental health leave feels like Martin having a stomach flu, you know?

Sam and Celia going out to search for stuff together.

Geegee??

The silence was so loud.

‘Gifted kid programs’??? Are desire avatars (or whatever is closest) set up from that young, like Jon with the web as a kid???

Our boys are probably eating themselves up about Magnus being part of child experiments (also books) and trying to warn Sam away. Not knowing that they’re part of it too.

Celia is so sus omg. GEORGIE???

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #tmagp spoilers #celia ripley #the magnus pod

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laniidae-passerine · 3 months

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Danver’s specific brand of racism is so intrenched in love it’s fascinating. Her daughter is precious to her and her daughter is Indigenous and in this town, an Indigenous woman is not viewed as a precious thing. They are abused and raped and murdered and therefore, being white is the ‘better’ choice. She is actively whitewashing her daughter, not only because she’s afraid of what she doesn’t understand and because of typical coloniser mentality, but because she doesn’t want to lose her. Danvers can’t distance Indigenous identity from white violence and it’s killing what she loves.

#it’s why she doesn’t mind the other indigenous people she lives alongside #not until she cares about them #because then she had to grapple with racialised violence #that Indigenous women in Alaska (and all over the world) experience violence at a significantly higher rate than other women #and it’s her job to keep them safe! she’s the chief of police and she has changed NOTHING #she is complicit in that violence! and she doesn’t want to face it #doesn’t want to face her role and doesn’t want to acknowledge how horrible everything is #so she’d rather try scrape away indigenity from the people she cares about then accept it. because to her that means accepting #that they’re much more likely to die or experience considerable pain #she’s fascinating to me. you can love someone so much you wanna kill a huge part of them #make them walk around feeling a ghost #liz danvers #chief danvers #jodie foster #true detective #night country #true detective: night country #tw racism #tw violence #tw racially motivated violence #tw rape

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dragonlights · 2 months

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Like I don't Post about drama but vis a vis predestro's Tumblr ban, like. I don't necessarily think it's a good thing that we on the Internet have become so desensitized to threats of violence that we use them as jokes, but like.... That's been Tumblr culture for, what, a decade now? At least four years. Almost definitely longer.

And like. I've seen so much worse. Folks admitting to sending asks telling others to kill themselves!! Folks outright wishing x/y person killed themselves!!! Folks harassing trans folks (esp. trans women!)

But what gets this one lady banned was her man door hammer hand car boom-ass post???

Like, talk about enforcing the TOS from the wrong angle.

I totally get that part of it is "this person had their rule breaking reported en masse so something happened" but shouldn't the severity of the response have more to do with the severity of the offense, rather than how many people reported that user?

Like. The fact that we have to do mass reports to get anything to happen to anyone is ridiculous.

And, the fact that INCORRECT mass reports aren't punished more is also ridiculous.

There's also no report function for discriminatory content, or for seeing users harass each other. So... If you're not the one being harassed, your report does... Nothing??

Unless you, what scroll through someone's blog looking for things you could report as threatening violence??

On the "I hope every politician dies" webbed site???

There's obviously something fucky with their reporting system- either the way that reports are handled, or the way the severity of the reports are being judged.

Cause right now, it looks like they got a flood of reports from TERFs, photomatt saw a post about him, and went "well, fuck it, get her out of here" without looking at the context of HER BEING HARASSED FOR AGES. And that the post in question- the only one I saw shared!- was almost certainly a vent post for Said Situation that was...

Comically mishandled?

Like this one?

Like. Look. Do I think maybe at some point, on the "way too comfortable with violence on people I see as Wrong in some way" webbed site, a popular user said something that could actually be construed as a threat, and due to rampant transmisogyny got, got her shit reported?

Yeah, I can see that.

I don't follow her blog too closely, I know she does a lot of hyperbolic stuff. (as is Done on this Web site, again... I've almost certainly rb'd things just as bad)

But the example photomatt uses is hilariously bad and so obviously not a threat, and one would think, IN LIGHT OF THERE BEING ALLEGATIONS OF TRANSPHOBIA ON THEIR TEAM FOR YEARS, THEY WOULD BRING OUT A MORE CREDIBLE PIECE OF EVIDENCE THAN A LOONY-TOONS ASS DEATH WISH.

Just. The bar was on the ground and they still fumbled It! Fucking! Amazing!

#dragontalk #i don't like all her views on transandrophobia. but her takes on the ways trans women are policed are spot on.#but seeing this shitshow is wild! I've followed thia lady for ages and she's like. Intense but fine?#again. i don't follow her blog too closely! there might be more harsh shit that I'd never seen!#but. mostly i see a lady who's had to fight constantly. in a way lots of trans women have. to be taken seriously.#not as a threat. not as a joke. not as a hypothetical. but as a person! who's experience this like.#really shitty intersection of transphobia and transmisogyny and probably regular misogyny and like. l #i think most of us would get pretty snippy at that point too #and given we exist in a culture way too comfortable with wishing violence on people... yeah.#most of us would have wished ~someone~ got hit with a falling grand piano or an anvil or stepped on a rake so hard they died #just. truly wild times we live in.#maybe i should start a collection of 'this post wishes violence on someone'#maybe even narrow it to 'violence on someone who hasn't upheld state sanctioned violence during their life'#to cut out the ronald Reagan margeret thatcher queen lady ass violence wishes #which i can't even bring myself to care about. and that says something about me o don't think i like. but like.#but at the aame time too much colonial ass violence in this world. I'm Tired.

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romulanslutempire · 10 months

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Adelaide Kane needs to reprise her role on SNW (somehow) so we can see her in Romulan tactical gear and with those famous pointy ears.

#*#adelaide kane #sera #star trek #star trek: strange new worlds #also la’an and sera reminded me SO MUCH of the seven and narissa dynamic from st: picard #i need more of it #i pretend not to see that she disintegrated herself and instead choose to believe she beamed herself tf outta there like narissa did #when the borg grabbed her #because no way was girlie quitting after 30 years and flirt-fighting for her life #FR though can we talk about how sera gave la’an an out????#she had every advantage against her but instead she chose to talk (and villain monologue) with her and offer her the opportunity to live #sera’an could be THAT enemies to rivals to allies in teeth-clenched teamwork #look don’t @ me i love a redemption arc and i think either narissa or sera would be so interesting to see undertaking one bc while they’re #not in that place in their current canon point they could be?? because both of them are just completely brainwashed into serving #the star empire and doing sketchy secret police stuff but they have no idea of a life outside of that #and it’s clear the people they work for don’t give a shit about them beyond the mission or what they can do for their people which #i get is romulan culture and what they’ve been born into BUT #idk idk i just find both of them so fascinating #tal shiar spies will always be loved by me

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tatzebea · 1 year

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Tesla - Magnetic Flux Density

#my art #my oc #(I managed to draw again)#(She is together with Weber)#(And she is like a police in the world she lives in)#(She is a good one too)#(And she can make and use every weapon)#(And also martial arts)

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danzainosolitude · 6 months

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Why did they never elaborate on the fact that there are *presumably* human versions of all the characters in Japan

#show by rock #cyan’s human band mates look exactly like her myumon band mates besides the whole furry thing #most characters probably wouldn’t even be in bands then #midicity and the planet it’s on is powered by music so like it’s perfectly normal to be in a band #but cyan is literally from regular japan there’s child labor laws and shit #shingancrimsonz and criticrista are probably high on my list to just not be bands #no one in their right mind is letting children not even in high school be the top band in Japan #and regular people would definitely notice a grown man being kidnapped out of his own home #and according to the newer game (make another you bastards) Aion lived in a really nice neighborhood so police would probably show up #before maple and co could take him with them #bvl wouldn’t exist anyways since Ailane could literally just hire and private investigator #private investigators probably exist in the fantasy world but becoming a terrorist worked anyways #Hundreko is likely to just be a regular human is Japan but it would be much funnier if she was still a highly advanced robot no one else has #rant #plasmagica #criticrista #shingancrimsonz #bud virgin logic #sb69

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pepprs · 2 years

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kind of amazing that i get down on myself for having impostor syndrome and feeling constantly stupid and naive and radiating insecurity about being young all the time when actually there is a completely explainable reason for it which is that i live in this house 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

#groaning and laughing over liz memes with my siblings and explaining to my parents why ppl are doing this / why ppl hate her and #are celebrating her death and they start attacking me for relaying the information (and agreeing with it ♥️) and saying shit like This #Generation has no respect and are so cruel and classless and always pick at problems for no reason and make unfounded baseless claims when I #was literally reading them evidence of the awful things that happened under her reign and they were going i don’t believe that. LMFAO! ok.#and the generational disdain has been such an issue too. like our parents straight up think we are stupid! love and light 💖#purrs #one of the worst fights i ever had with my mom that was the reason i started going to counseling happened bc of how jason mraz announced #that he was two-spirit and i was talking to my mom about it and said that he shouldn’t have called himself that bc he&: white and she BLEW #UP at me for like 3 days straight for trying to be ‘labelist’ about him and for caring about sexuality and ‘policing’ his / her language and #she literally went out of her way to pick a fight with someone on ig who was saying the thing i was to prove a point to me and she said othe #other extremely hurtful things about me being bi and about me having the audacity to ‘root for the underdog’ and how she was going to cut me #out of her life just like she did with her aunt because i push her buttons too much so ♥️ always very fun to get into debates with my parent #and i know it goes against literally everything i am supposed to know / be for me to be arguing like this and to be complaining about it and #even joking about queen elizabeth but like. idk. i feel so torn between how i feel. i know she was a human being yeah yeah but she was #also a colonialist monarch parasite and i genuinely think the way tumblr explodes when politicians and world leaders die is endearing and #exciting and funny. i adore my job and my colleagues and also working full time is killing me. i recognize that my parents are human beings #and that i am flawed and don’t know everything and am saying stuff without fully knowing what it means and also it makes me giddy to pick #fights with them a little bit. i am kind of a bad person i think and i care about it so much but also i don’t give a fuck anymore. nothing #in my life feels real rn and i am a scared creature in my skin all the time. so no i don’t feel like i can hold my own and represent my work #well because i am living a double life just wanting to play video games all the time and run away from everything but also wanting to create #the golden thing and help people open the door to a better world or whatever and i can’t tell wha ti want to do more because im fucking #EXHAUSTED and experiencing 15 kinds of despair at all times lol!#not to turn a post about queen elizabeth into a vent lmfao but i am so angry. it really fucking gets me that they think im stupid lol. like #i know im stupid for other reasons but it’s not fair to think im stupid because i am pointing out inequities and trying to help you learn or #whatever and it’s not fair that you think that im stupid because im a young person like im literally your fucking daughter and it is made st #STAGGERINGLY clear to me every day how you only wanted babies and you didn’t want us as the messy growing learning imperfectncomplicated #adults we are becoming and it fucking hurts and i hate you for it a little bit. lol 🤸🏻‍♀️#delete later #idk what i even just typed i an just hitting post and letting the consequences roll in. im a bad person fuck it!#parents tw

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ghelgheli · 2 months

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In contrast with professional drag queens, who were only playing at being women onstage, [Esther] Newton learned that the very bottom of the gay social hierarchy was the province of street queens. In almost total contrast to professional queens, street queens were "the underclass of the gay world." Although they embraced effeminacy, too, they did so in the wrong place and for the wrong reason: in public and outside of professional work. As a result, Newton explained, the street queens "are never off stage. Their way of life is collective, illegal, and immediate." Because they didn't get paid to be feminine and were locked out of even the most menial of nightlife jobs, Newton observed that their lives were perceived to revolve around "confrontation, prostitution, and drug 'highs'." Even in a gay underworld where everyone was marked as deviant, it was the sincere street queens who tried to live as women who were punished most for what was celebrated-and paid-as an act onstage. When stage queens lost their jobs, they were often socially excluded like trans women. Newton explained that when she returned to Kansas City one night during her fieldwork, she learned that two poor queens she had met had recently lost their jobs as impersonators. Since then, they had become "indistinguishable from street fairies," growing out their hair long and wearing makeup in public-even "passing" as girls in certain situations," in addition to earning a reputation for taking pills. They were now treated harshly by everyone in the local scene. Most people wouldn't even speak to them in public. Professional drag queens who didn't live as women still had to avoid being seen as too "transy" in their style and demeanor. One professional queen that Newton interviewed explained why: it was dangerous to be transy because it reinforced the stigma of effeminacy without the safety of being onstage. "I think what you do in your bed is your business," he told Newton, echoing a middle-class understanding of gay privacy, "[but] what you do on the street is everybody's business."

The first street queen who appears in Mother Camp is named Lola, a young Black trans girl who is "becoming a woman,' as they say'." Newton met Lola at her dingy Kansas City apartment, where she lived with Tiger, a young gay man, and Godiva, a somewhat more respectable queen. What made Godiva more respectable than Lola wasn't just a lack of hormonal transition. It was that Godiva could work as a female impersonator because she wasn't trying to sincerely live as a woman. Lola, on the other hand, was permanently out of work because being Black and trans made her unhireable, including in female impersonation. When Newton entered their apartment, which had virtually no furniture, she found Lola lying on "a rumpled-up mattress on the floor" and entertaining three "very rough-looking young men." These kinds of apartments, wrote Newton, "are not 'homes.' They are places to come in off the street." The extremely poor trans women who lived as street queens, like Lola, "literally live outside the law," Newton explained. Violence and assault were their everyday experiences, drugs were omnipresent, and sex work was about the only work they could do. Even if they didn't have "homes," street queens "do live in the police system."

As a result of being policed and ostracized by their own gay peers, Newton felt that street queens were "dedicated to "staying out of it" as a way of life. "From their perspective, all of respectable society seems square, distant, and hypocritical. From their 'place' at the very bottom of the moral and status structure, they are in a strategic position to experience the numerous discrepancies between the ideals of American culture and the realities." Yet, however withdrawn or strung out they were perceived to be, the street queens were hardly afraid to act. On the contrary, they were regarded by many as the bravest and most combative in the gay world. In the summer of 1966, street queens in San Francisco fought back at Compton's Cafeteria, an all-night venue popular with sex workers and other poor gay people. After management had called the police on a table that was hanging out for hours ordering nothing but coffee, an officer grabbed the arm of one street queen. As the historian Susan Stryker recounts, that queen threw her coffee in the police officer's face, "and a melee erupted." As the queens led the patrons in throwing everything on their tables at the cops-who called for backup-a full-blown riot erupted onto the street. The queens beat the police with their purses "and kicked them with their high-heeled shoes." A similar incident was documented in 1959, when drag queens fought back against the police at Cooper's Donuts in Los Angeles by throwing donuts-and punches. How many more, unrecorded, times street queens fought back is anyone's guess. The most famous event came in 1969, when street queens led the Stonewall rebellion in New York City. Newton shares in Mother Camp that she wasn't surprised to learn it was the street queens who carried Stonewall. "Street fairies," she wrote, "have nothing to lose."

Jules Gill-Peterson, A Short History of Trans Misogyny

#reading #a short history of trans misogyny #transmisogyny #jules gill-peterson

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total-dxmure · 4 months

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✦ INVISIBLE STRING THEORY →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairings: modern!marine ellie x reader

summary: the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?

warnings: eventual smut! lots of tension building and mutual pining. ellie falls first and hard. small town girl meets a frightening, strong ex marine. TW: talk of panic attacks, ptsd episodes and death. come for the ellie smut and stay for the plot and fluff.

⬶ previous chapter | next chapter ⤅

“The fact that she’s military is the only thing saving her ass right now.”

Ellie kept her head bowed down low, her hands clasped in between her legs as she hunched over in the seat, making herself as small as possible. Her knuckles were bruised and scrapped to hell, the blood already dried and crusted. Most of the blood wasn’t hers, and if she thought about that fact for too long she’d probably have an episode. Either that or she’d throw up all over the sheriff’s office.

“Boss, I really appreciate you calling me instead of booking her. You have to understand that she’s in therapy and is on a shit ton of medications. Is the guy gonna press charges. . . ?” Hearing her best friend kiss up to his boss on her behalf had the vein in her forehead twitching.

“Technically the boy was shoplifting, so I doubt he’s gonna go forward with any sort’a legal action. I know she was trying to help, but she used excessive force. Beat the poor kid black and blue. . . I mean-” The officer lowered his voice, and Ellie could hear Jesse’s chair creak as he leaned forward. “His damn tooth was knocked out.” The sheriff whispered.

She closed her eyes tight, running a shaky hand over her face. She should own up to all of this and apologize. This was her fault, so why. . . why was she just sitting there? It was like she was glued to the chair, unable to move her head up. She couldn’t look Jesse in the eye. She was ashamed of herself.

Because she smelled like greasy, unwashed hair and cigarettes, was wearing the same pair of jeans she’d worn yesterday when he invited her over to his and Dina’s for dinner, and now he was having to pick her up at the police station for starting a fight.

A pack of beer. That’s what she’d pummeled the boy over.

He couldn’t have even been her age. He looked freshly legal, and something in her fucked up mind told her that it was okay to hurt him like that. The second that the nice elderly woman behind the counter had started screaming about a man stealing from her, some sort of switch had been flipped in her brain. Loud noises always made her feel anxious, but screaming like that? She couldn’t have stopped the meltdown even if she’d wanted to. So she dropped what she was holding and ran after him. What happened afterwards was. . . well, it was a blur. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and rubbed her temples, trying hard to remember.

Her therapist called them “PTSD episodes”. Random things triggered a breakdown: loud noises, gunshots, screams, flashes of light. . . they were unavoidable. She’d lose total track of time when it happened. One second the door to Ellie’s walk-in closet was closing behind her, plummeting her in darkness, and the next she’d be laying on her back in the middle of her room, balling her eyes out. Living like this was hell, but no matter how many mind-numbing pills she was prescribed, she still found it nearly impossible to function.

She didn’t want to scare her loved ones. When Joel called she just. . . lied. It made her feel dirty. It was wrong and she knew that, but it was better than the alternative. Being a liar was better than being a broken failure.

“Yeah, I’m doing great. My therapist is on to something, I think.”

“Come on, rambo. Let’s get you to bed.” Jesse placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, knowing better than to pat her on the back like he used to.

Ellie knew it hurt him to see her flinch under his touch. She swallowed back bile and stood up, practically having to drag herself out of the officers office. She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t thank him or- or anything.

But then he did that thing. . . he thanked Ellie.

Ellie didn’t give a shit about the military discounts or the cheaper car insurance- she got a nice cushy check from the military every month just for breathing. She didn’t want pity or thanks simply because she didn’t deserve it.

“Thank you for your service, Williams.” The sheriff’s voice reminded her of Joel’s. For some reason that made it hurt even worse.

Still, her muscles tightened, and she worked hard to straighten her posture.

“It was my privilege.” It was a well rehearsed response. It didn’t even sound like her voice when she had said it though, and it scared her.

As she followed Jesse out to his truck, she tried to ascertain whether she was just beginning to disassociate or whether or not this was all just another strange side effect from her meds.

She blinked and suddenly she was already situated in the car, Jesse on the main road to get the both of them back home. He had the radio turned down to just a hum, his sleepy eyes glued to the road in front of him. The clock on his dashboard told her that it wasn’t just “late” anymore, but “morning” now. Ellie sat up suddenly, her heart pounding as she tried to map out exactly how many minutes she had just lost.

“Fuck.” She breathed, pressing her palms against her eyes.

She needed to call her therapist sometime today. She needed. . . She needed a lower dose of medication. There’s no way any of this was normal.

“Have you eaten?” Jesse asked, turning his head to finally look at her.

Ellie wished that he felt inconvenienced by her. Anger would be better than pity, but the look in his eyes was anything but annoyance. Jesse looked like he was close to tears. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, and Ellie felt called to reach her hand out and place it on his shoulder. She wasn’t a very touchy person these days (and it’s not like she was to begin with), but he needed it.

“Not in a couple of hours.” Ellie answered him, letting her fingers dig into the soft fabric of his shirt.

He nodded and cleared his throat, sitting up a little straighter. When Ellie dropped her hand and turned to look out the passenger side window, she could have sworn he lifted his arm to hurriedly wipe at his eyes. She couldn’t be sure though. . . seeing as she was now legally blind in her left eye. The wonky eye and the thin scar that started in the middle of her forehead and ended on her brow bone were the only physical reminders that she had of the explosion.

It seemed so miniscule compared to all of the shit that was going on in her head. She’d much rather have a destroyed body than a brain that didn’t work right anymore.

“How about you sleep in the guest bedroom? Dina’s probably worried sick about the both of us. Let’s. . . let’s spend the day together. Yeah?” It sounded like he was pleading with her.

There was a brief moment of heavy silence. No matter how much of a burden she saw herself as, the thought of going home right now frightened her. Ellie was terrified that she was going to end up all alone in this world, but she couldn’t stop pushing everyone away. It’s almost as if. . . she knew that she was bound to self-destruct at some point. She didn’t want anyone to see her like that.

“She’s going to kill me.” Ellie groaned out, dramatically banging her head against the headrest.

Jesse’s lips twitched up into a smile, but he was quick to try and mask it. “Nah. Dina? Mad at you for getting arrested at one thirty in the morning? No way.” His tone was sarcastic, and Ellie appreciated the fact that Jesse could still joke under circumstances like this. It made things feel almost normal. Almost.

Ellie winced, dragging a battered and bruised hand over her face. She had no idea why she’d been at the gas station picking up a bag of pretzels and a pack of ding-dongs that late at night. A documentary about the recently discovered Exo-planet was on the Discovery channel, and she’d actually worked up an appetite after it was over. She missed acting her age. Maybe that’s why she ended up getting into her Jeep. She was tired of feeling nostalgic and actually wanted to do something for herself. As minuscule as grabbing snacks from the gas station down the street was, it still felt out of the ordinary for her. Special.

Dina was sitting on the couch when the pair slunk into the house, walking on their tip toes in the hopes that the creaking wooden floors wouldn’t wake up JJ. Ellie froze in the entryway, green eyes wide as she took in the female’s crossed arms and death-glare. She was in trouble, which meant that Jesse was in trouble as well by association.

“Do you know what time it is?” Dina whisper-yelled, throwing her arm in the direction of the clock on the wall.

Ellie squinted her one good eye, noting that it was now four in the morning. She’d lost three hours. She should have been passed out on her prescribed sleeping pills by now, plagued by vivid nightmares. Instead she was intruding on her two best friends, and for what? ‘A pack of beer’, she reminded herself. A god damn pack of fuckin’ beer.

Ellie’s mouth went dry, her lips moving but no words escaping her. How many times had she apologized to Dina since she’d gotten home after the accident? Still, her best friend’s anger was better than Jesse’s pity. The sleeves of Ellie’s flannel tightened around her biceps as she crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring Dina’s posture as if to protect herself. She slipped a hand up, covering her neck anxiously.

“I’m getting better, D. I’ll schedule an emergency meeting with my therapist and-” Ellie sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.

What she was doing couldn’t be called living. Ellie was simply existing and not doing a very good job at it either. She was tired of being tired. She blinked her misty eyes, turning to face the kitchen. She refused to cry. Once she started she couldn’t be sure that she’d be able to stop.

Jesse and Dina’s shoes were all neatly laid out by the front door and JJ’s baby bag was sitting on the dining room table. This was a family that she had just burdened. Her eyes snagged on JJ’s highchair, and then the guilt was building right back up in her chest.

Guilt and jealousy.

Ellie had once had hopes of starting her own family eventually. When did she lose her grasp on that? On her lifelong dreams and aspirations? She wanted to help people- save people- so when had she become the one that needed saving? The marines hadn’t ruined Ellie. Ellie had ruined Ellie.

“No, you’re not.” Dina said simply, her voice sounding thick with emotion. “Ellie, look at me.” Her voice was commanding despite her sadness.

Ellie’s eyes fell to the floor, but she turned her head to face Dina, green eyes flickering up to her face. Bottom lip quivering, brown eyes misty- Dina looked miserable.

“You’re not getting better.” She whispered to Ellie, shaking her head to drive the point home. It looked like the words physically hurt for her to say.

Every excuse that she could have given dissipated. Suddenly she felt naked, utterly exposed. Every nasty, jagged scar was on full display. How many times had she said that to the people that cared about her?

“I’m getting better.” “I actually feel a bit better today.” “You don’t have to worry about me. The meds are really working this time.” Ellie wasn’t sure when it happened but she had become a liar. A damn good one too. Dina was looking at her now though, really looking at her, and Ellie’s face crumpled.

“Fuck.” Ellie whispered to herself, moving her hands to cover her face.

Jesse stepped behind Ellie, wrapping his arms around her tightly, resting his cheek on the top of her head. A sob caught in Ellie’s chest and she strangled it before it could escape her. She couldn’t lose it. She couldn’t let her shoulders sag, couldn’t allow herself to feel everything in front of her best friends.

“I called Joel,” Dina finally said, leaning against the back of the couch, her knuckles going white with how hard she gripped the leather. “And he bought you a plane ticket. You’re flying out tomorrow.”

“No,” Ellie was already shaking her head before Dina had even finished her sentence. “How could you do this?” She felt the betrayal like a slap in the face. Her lips parted, eyes wide in silent desperation.

Please let this be a nightmare.

Her hand desperately flew to her arm, giving it a sharp pinch. The floor didn’t fall out from under her. She didn’t sit up sweating in her tangled sheets. This was actually happening. Actually real.

“You’re flailing, Ellie. We thought that eventually you’d level out,” Dina tried, taking a few steps towards Ellie and her husband. “But you’re only getting worse.”

“I’m getting better.” The well rehearsed line was the only thing she could think to utter. She prayed that eventually she could convince herself of that too. If she said the words enough times then maybe, eventually, they would become her reality. Perhaps she could somehow manifest her recovery.

“When was the last time you ate a solid meal? You barely touched your plate the other night. And I know you aren’t eating the food that Jesse drops off for you.” Dina was pointing out her flaws as if she didn’t see them all herself.

A full stomach meant nausea.

“When was the last time you showered?” The dark haired girl questioned.

Showering meant closing herself up into a tight space. It meant getting naked- seeing her scars. Remembering what happened to her and the rest of her unit.

“We know how this will end, Ellie. I don’t care if you hate me for the rest of my life for calling Joel. I refuse to lose you like this.” Dina’s voice quivered as she spoke, but her eyes hardened. She was resolute about her decision.

Jesse’s arms tightened around Ellie and suddenly they no longer felt like a comfort but a prison. She needed air. Needed to call Joel and apologize. Needed to tell him that she was fine. She was fine. She would be just fine.

“I can’t breathe.” Ellie managed to whisper out, knees buckling from underneath her. It felt like the world was finally swallowing her up whole.

She was a failure. She’d failed Jesse, Dina, JJ and Joel. Why couldn’t she just be normal again? Why couldn’t she just fucking breathe.

Jesse let go of Ellie as she began gasping for air, helping to sit her down on the cold hardwood floor. It felt like everything around her had slowed down to a crawl, but her mind- it had sped up to a breakneck pace. She couldn’t turn it off. Couldn’t turn off the thoughts and the images and the feelings.

She’d killed her unit. It was her fault that they all died. They had all been taken home in body bags, and what had Ellie gotten? A fucking government issued check every month that she blew on booze and a Purple Heart that collected dust.

“D, get the medication that’s in the cabinet and a glass of water.” Jesse called out to his wife. It sounded like they were underwater. She was drowning.

“She’s ripping her fucking hair out, Jesse.” Dina called out in panic, rifling through the medicine cabinet with shaky hands. Her best friend gripped her wrists, forcing them back down to her sides. Strands of Auburn hair were tangled up between her clammy fingers.

JJ must have woken up because of the comotion. She could hear him crying from the other room. Screaming for his mother.

Blood. So much blood. It’s coming out of her mouth, what do I do? What do I do about internal bleeding again? Wasn’t I trained for this? Breathe. She’s not breathing. Are there other landmines? Can I drag her to safety? Where is everyone else? H-How. . . How can I help?

“Swallow, Ellie.” Dina was crouched in front of her, forcing her lips open to slide a pill onto her tongue.

“It was my fault. I-I fucking,” She choked out, gagging at the taste of the pill that was beginning to dissolve on her tongue. “I led them out there. Oh, fuck.”

Dina was beginning to panic, pushing the plastic cup up to Ellie’s mouth in the hopes that she would drink. She did, choking back the water in deep gulps. The water helped to fill the aching pit that was beginning to grow in her stomach. Water poured down the sides of Ellie’s lips, but she kept drinking. Deep, thoughtful gulps of ice cold water.

“Should I call an ambulance?” Dina finally asked, her eyes flickering between Ellie and her husband.

“No. No hospital. Just go sit with JJ, alright? I’ve got her.” Jesse told her, letting go of Ellie’s hands so that he could wrap an arm around her waist, hugging her against his chest so that she couldn’t stand up.

Ellie blinked and Dina was gone, the sound of her bare feet jogging down the hall was the only reminder of her presence.

“Joel isn’t going to judge you, Ellie. We all just want to help. So let us, alright?” She knew he was telling the truth, but the thought of Joel seeing her as lesser-than killed her. She would crumble completely if Joel looked at her with the same sorrowful eyes that Jesse did.

Joel was newly retired though, and the last thing he needed was to put up with his PTSD-ridden adopted daughter. She was tired of feeling like a burden, but where had standing on her own two feet gotten her? Arrested on multiple occasions? So she relented. She surrendered to the idea of sleeping in her old bedroom and taking up space in Joel’s too-big ranch home.

“Okay.” Ellie croaked, feeling the medication kicking in. Sleep. All Ellie wanted to do was sleep.

“Okay?” Jesse repeated back to her, needing to know that she was serious. The last thing he probably wanted to do was wrestle Ellie onto the plane. He wasn’t entirely sure he could overpower her when it came down to it.

“Okay.”

Grief was an uphill battle. One minute you’re laughing with your friends and then the next you’re laid up in bed, tossing and turning with the realization that what could have been was now an impossibility. You missed Abby. You missed the life that you could have had with her. All of the memories and milestones you missed out on were soul crushing the second that the sun went down.

You were left in your empty house, laid up in the bed that the two of you once shared. Her scent had long since washed out of her pillow. All that was left were pictures and a gravesite that you still couldn’t bring yourself to visit. Life doesn’t stop when you lose somebody though. People eventually become less forgiving as the months pass by.

So you squeezed your eyes closed and hoped that sleep would come sooner rather than later. You had an early start tomorrow for work, and the last thing you wanted was to show up with puffy eyes.

Life was getting better though. The pain wasn't as debilitating as it had been months ago, and for that you were thankful.

One step at a time, one day at a time.

You were still breathing, which was exactly what Abby would have wanted for you. The overwhelming grief hadn't killed you, no matter how many times you'd secretly prayed that it would. You were still here and that was good enough.

For now, at least.

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nerdpoe · 4 months

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People are disappearing from Gotham, leaving no trace that they were ever actually there.

The old lady that lived in Jason's apartment complex? One day she was just gone. Didn't come down the hallway anymore, no one could find her, and when they reported her missing to the police, her apartment was completely empty.

No one had seen her move out, and they were a tight nit community. Someone would have noticed. It hadn't been that she'd been moving out bit by bit in secret, either, because Jason and many other just the day before had been sitting on her couch and listening to her talk about her grandkids.

She, and all her worldly belongings, just fucking disappeared.

The landlord couldn't even find her lease.

And she wasn't the only one.

The police were getting multiple calls regarding missing people, some of them even pillars of the community, who left without a single trace.

The only thing they had in common was how they disappeared; they would vanish, all of their belongings would be gone, and whoever owned the property they lived on wouldn't be able to find the mortgage or lease.

In one particularly memorable disappearance, a very rich socialite disappeared, leaving his live-in staff to wake up on the bare floor, covered in sheets, to an utterly empty manor.

Of course, Batman gets called in to help investigate.

Danny, meanwhile, was catching up on complaints from the Observants about ghosts in Gotham literally moving their haunts into the world of the living and going on as if they'd never died.

Danny fully believed that ghosts had the right to walk with the living if they wanted, but he also knew that Gotham was incredibly unstable, and ghosts were more susceptible to the curses that were inlaid into the city than most.

For their own good, they had to come to the Realms.

He knew that none of them would come willingly.

But, as the High Prince of the Infinite Realms, he had a few perks. Perks like forcibly summoning a ghost and their entire lair into the Realms.

So he's been going around the Realms, finding empty spots and forcibly moving those stubborn Gotham Ghosts back into the Realms where they belong, and then leaving an Observant to deal with their complaints.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #phanfic #story prompt

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catboybiologist · 4 days

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The year is 2030.

At the Cincinnati stop of her "world tour", Taylor Swift ends her set. As she walks off the stage, she leans into a nearby mic and says "oh by the way, I'm lesbian".

She's still milking a public relationship with a man named Chett Whitesman, so this is met with a combination of cheers and confusion. Immediately, the media mobilizes. They have to intercept her before she gets onto her private jet, and ambush her for an interview. Luckily, this has become much easier these days. Since the release of her 2027 album, "The Carbon Emissions of my Heart", T Swizzle has performed a ritual sacrifice of an endangered species on live camera every time she boards her jet, a #girlboss way of saying that her emotional pain can only be healed by the tortured screams of drowning polar bears.

(Since this practice started, a devoted faction of Swifties have started a carbon negative algae farming commune, with the express intent of negating taytay sweezie's contributions to climate change. Apparently "her tortured soul deserves to pollute without guilt". They haven't even come close to their goals.)

Taytor Twift is intercepted after this ritual, as she's walking up the steps of her plane. When asked what the lesbian statement was about, she nonchalantly says "oh, I thought it was clear that was a joke. Anyways, G T G!" , before biting into the still beating heart of an emperor penguin.

During her flight, discourse on the newly renamed twitter-X-ElonIsExtremelyVirile Corp goes nuclear like it never has been before.

There's a camp of swifties thoroughly convinced that her relationship with Chett is all a beard so that she can still keep touring in the New Christian Republic of Florida, and the interview at the plane was deepfaked.

A different camp of Swifties feels insulted and betrayed that she would be anything less than a paragon of allyship. To them, this is the worst slight the queer community has ever experienced.

A third camp of Swifties insists that she *is* dating Chett, and is also a lesbian. They get insulted that anyone would police Taylor's labels. Comparisons to the Boulder, Colorado shooter are made.

A group of non Swifties tries to point out that everyone is fucking insane and that 'ole taytay regularly tear gases pride rallies to make way for her promenade to stadium venues, and who the fuck cares about this shit and point out that what a billionaire celebrity does for five minutes of PR is not worth your attention or discourse, nor does it warrant harassing other people for the labels *they* use, and isn't it really fucked up that Taylor is making a joke of how people describe their identities? They are promptly doxxed, harassed, and banned.

Bi lesbian discourse is off the charts. Nothing Taylor said has anything to do with it, but it happens anyways.

A lone transsexual who actually goes outside once in a while tweets "hey guys isn't it kinda fucked up that 2.4 billion people have been displaced by mega storms this year that her jet contributes to and is also specifically designed to fly over" and is promptly doxxed and harassed off the platform.

After an exhausting 9 minute plane ride, Tailing Swiffer lands in Columbus for the next performance of her world tour. She unveils a new single that contains the line "ride my horse after dumping him, stepping up onto my SAD dle".

All is forgotten. All is quiet. The Swifties continue as usual, moving on to the next discourse about these lyrics.

#cw taylor swift

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 month

Text

The Nickname Runs in the Family || CL16

Summary: When you end up crying on your father’s shoulder over a boy, Kimi enlists the help of Charles to teach him a lesson. Charles Leclerc x Raikkonen!Reader Warnings: nsfw, fighting, mentions of sex, WC: 2.9k

To the outside world Kimi was known as ‘The Iceman’, garnered for his cold personality in the media and how he never let anything bother him, at home however he was just called isä or dad. You really could have done with more of The Iceman persona because when it came to his family your father was anything but cool and collected.

“Tell me what happened,” Kimi demanded, your tears only streaming faster down your cheeks.

“Nothing happened, dad.”

“Something happened, tytär, don’t lie to me.”

It was stupid to go there after what happened. You should have just returned to your student accommodation at the college but you needed the comfort of home and someone you trusted. Now all of Monaco was going to hear just how hotheaded The Iceman got while your step-mother tried to put your baby half-sister back to sleep.

“Nothing happened!” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands as embarrassment flamed across your cheeks. “I said no, okay. I said no and he called me a frigid bitch before dumping me and leaving me at the party.”

You expected to hear something break, or at least his heavy stomps storming towards the front door. You didn’t expect your dad to throw his head back and laugh, a deep belly laugh that echoed around the quiet living room.

“Ah, that’s my girl,” he laughed as he bundled you into a hug. “I like that, Frigid Bitch. It’s good.”

You snorted a laugh despite the hurt and wiped your tears on his shoulder. “I thought you would be angry.”

“Oh, I am,” he admitted somberly. He placed a kiss on your head before standing up and pulling his phone out of his pocket. You didn’t see who he was calling so late at night but groaned when it was answered. “Hello, Charles. You know everyone in Monaco, where does Devereux Laurent live?”

“Isä! No!”

Your father ignored you as he grabbed his car keys and his jacket, his phone shoved between his shoulder and his ear. “I’m not going to kill the little bastard, fuck, Charles, I just want to have a chat.”

The door slammed shut behind him and you collapsed back onto the sofa with a groan about keeping your mouth shut next time. You were still ruminating over your life choices when the doorbell rang an hour later.

“Charles?” You frowned at the man panting in your doorway like he sprinted across the city before your eyes widened at the split lip he sported. “What are you doing here? What happened?”

“Kimi.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

You grabbed your purse that had been discarded on the kitchen table when you arrived. “Where is he?”

“The police station.”

“Shit, he didn’t do that to you, did he?”

Charles reeled back, clearly offended. “No, you’re asshole boyfriend hit me.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you clarified as you dragged him inside and grabbed a tea towel to wrap a bag of peas from the freezer. Charles flinched as you gently pressed the ice pack to his lips and you sighed. “I’m sorry my dad got you involved in this.”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, taking the pack from your hand to place it on his swollen knuckles that you hadn’t noticed. “I got myself involved when I heard what Dev did. Are you okay?”

“I didn’t get punched in the face,” you said as you playfully rolled your eyes, however you soon sobered. “It's nothing a few drinks and a bad romcom can’t fix, after I’ve bailed dad out first. It’s not like we were together long enough to get heartbroken. Do you want me to drop you off on the way?”

“I’ll drive.” He snatched a set of keys from the hook by the door, but you caught his wrist and took them back.

“That’s Minttu’s minivan.” You hung the keys back on the hook and grabbed a set for your dad’s Rolls Royce Wraith instead. The empty hook beside it was where the keys to his Ferrari Pista usually hung. “She wouldn’t be happy if you crashed her car again.”

“I didn’t crash her car,” he argued as he pocketed the keys and opened the door. “You were driving!”

“I had a shit instructor. You were too busy checking yourself out in the mirror to teach me.”

His finger jabbed the call button for the elevator as he scoffed. “You only know that because you were too busy checking me out to watch the road.”

The elevator arrived but you held a hand out to block him as you stepped into the small space. “Sorry, your inflated ego is too big to fit in here.”

“That wasn’t a denial.”

You ignored him and jutted your head to the fireproof door. “Try the stairs.”

“But we’re on the top floor.”

You smirked as the doors started to close but he darted inside before they sealed shut.

“You’re still not denying it.”

“So you really went swinging for my honour?” you deflected as he hit the button for the garage level, exposing his swollen fist again.

“You sound surprised.” He leaned back against the wall and looked at his hand, massaging the tender bruises. “When I saw he was still at the party…”

You frowned, first at the fact that Dev went back after leaving you there, asshole, then at the fact Charles knew where he was. Charles was definitely not at the party, if he was then you would have heard the women going feral for him. “How did you know he was there? You don’t follow him on Instagram.”

“Not on my main account,” he said with a shrug. Anyone that Charles followed on social media made sure to announce the news like it was an instant ticket to ViP treatment, and Dev would have been no different. It was also the exact reason you went by Y/L/N, your mother’s surname, instead of Raikkonen. You didn’t want to be used by people for the name you carried.

“You hate him, why would you follow him?”

“It doesn’t matter why.”

“It does to me.”

Unfortunately the doors opened and he pushed off from the wall to stride past without an answer. A flash of lights responded to the click of the button on the keys and Charles slowed his steps for you as he led the way to the sedan parked in a secluded corner, the space beside it empty of your fathers red Pista. Charles stopped at your door and opened it for you, his eyes scanning the open space that was empty and quiet save for the whine of the elevator leaving the level.

“For you,” he admitted as you slipped into the leather seat. “I followed him to keep an eye on you.”

The door closed and you watched him walk around the car, dropping into the driver’s seat before pushing it back to suit his longer legs. He then silently adjusted the mirrors and turned down the heavy rock music that blasted when the engine started. You didn’t know what to say, all you had were more questions that could only lead to more confusion.

“You deserve better,” Charles said, breaking the awkward silence as he pulled out into the street.

“He was just drunk.”

“That’s not an excuse. You deserve someone who will wait until you are ready to have sex, not try it on drunk and at a party.” His words were seething by the time he finished and his knuckles turned white from the tight grasp he had on the steering wheel.

“Uh, Charles, I was joking about my honour…I’m not a virgin.”

“Wait, what?” The car slammed to a halt and he earned a toot from the Lamborghini behind before it drove around when Charles didn’t move. “Since when?” he asked as he turned in his seat to face you.

“I didn’t realise it was such a big deal. Was I meant to stand at the corner and hold a sign that said ‘deflowered’ in Times New Roman or Comic Sans?”

He didn’t even blink at your icy tone and heavy sarcasm. “But Dev said he dumped you because you didn’t want to have sex. He didn’t force himself on you, did he?”

“Oh my god, no! I can’t believe we are having this conversation, Charles.” You figured it couldn't get any more awkward as you looked out the window into the sleeping city. “Sex wasn’t the problem, he was upset because I didn’t want to have sex with him.”

“Oh…oh.” He cleared his throat and put the car back into drive before continuing his way to the police station. “So, uh, is there anyone you do want to, um, have sex with at the moment?”

“Why? Are you offering?” It was meant to sound teasing but there was too much curiosity in it.

His face flushed pink and his lips parted two twice before his voice worked. “I don’t do casual.”

It wasn’t a no, and that somehow made things both better and worse as a new possibility began to worm its way into your mind. You didn’t like the hope that fluttered in your stomach. Charles was a friend. Charles was someone your father trusted after Seb vouched for him. Charles was off limits.

By the time you had filtered through the thoughts he had induced, Charles was pulling into the police station and you hoped your dad was fairing well behind bars. It turned out you had no reason to worry as you walked inside and heard his voice from behind the glass wall.

Kimi was being well taken care of by the officers. He had a coffee in one hand, a pastry in the other and was answering questions that had nothing to do with Dev. You cringed as he recounted why he missed meeting Pelé years ago, but Charles chuckled along with the policemen as you knocked on the door.

The Monégasques fawned over their hometown hero while you watched Kimi pull himself to his feet, cracking his back that had stiffen while he was sat down.

“I thought you would be in maximum security by now,” you said as he pulled you into a hug. “What did you do?”

He patted your cheek and smiled mischievously. “I like Charles even more now.”

He gave you nothing else but that was expected. Whatever happened was obviously not on the record and you wanted to keep it that way, especially since he didn’t have a single scratch on him - like he hadn’t been in a fight at all. You were quietly contemplating that knowledge when you climbed into the backseat of the Wraith and your father readjusted everything on the driver's side back to how he had it.

“You took the fall for Charles, didn’t you?”

They both swivelled back to look at you. Charles’ eyes widened, while your father’s narrowed.

“Fucking hell, I’m not going to tell anyone,” you growled as you threw your arms up in exasperation. “I just want to know what actually happened tonight.”

Charles waited to see if your dad wasn’t going to explain as the car pulled out of the station car park. After a moment of hesitation he took a breath and started to rattle off the truth.

“I called Kimi when I realised Dev was still at the party. It was only a block away so I thought I would meet him there to point him out.”

“I was just about at the address he gave me when he called. I got there as fast as I could but Charles was already inside,” Kimi said with a proud chortle. “Got a few good hits on the little bastard too.”

“Iså,” you warned as he enjoyed the violence just a bit too much and Charles looked sheepishly down at his hands. “Why did you fight?”

“You know why. I couldn’t stand by and let him talk about you that way.”

“Good man,” Kimi said with a stern nod.

“And you, what did you do, dad?”

“What I had to do,” he said with a shrug. “I’m retired, Charles has a career.”

You stretched the seatbelt and leaned forward to hug your dad and kiss his cheek before doing the same to Charles. “Thank you.” Your eyes lingered on Charles as his eyes said everything he couldn’t with your father in the car.

“He’s not pressing charges but there may be some questions if anyone caught the fight on camera. You might want to give your PR team a heads up.”

It took a moment to realise where you were and why the car had stopped outside the venue where the party was still in full swing. Drunken revellers could be heard behind the velvet curtain hanging over the door and your father handed his keys over to Charles with a shake. “Make sure she gets home safe. I’ll pick it up in the morning, no scratches.”

“Yes, sir,” Charles promised with a nod before getting out.

“You’re trusting him with your Pista?”

“I trust him with you, the car I can replace.”

You surprised him with another hug as your door opened, your voice thick with emotion as you said, “thank you.”

“Do you want to come home?” he asked quietly. “I can make up the sofa bed.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t think I’ll want to get out of my bed tomorrow.”

“Fair enough. Love you.”

“Love you too.” You stepped out and Charles closed the door, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you to your father’s favourite car. “He doesn’t even let me drive this, you know.”

“Maybe that’s because you don’t support Ferrari,” Charles teased as you buckled yourself in.

“I support it now.”

“What changed your mind?”

You dared to look at him and met his green eyes. “You.”

—

“Awww, she called her little puppy,” Dev taunted as he spotted Charles walking towards him.

Charles chuckled, but it held no humour and his smile was dark. You had never seen that look in his eye and your thighs clenched in response. “At least she will still call me. You just lost the best thing you never deserved.”

“Well you can have the frigid bitch, good luck getting her to put out though. Fucking cocktease.” The snort Dev made was cut off by the fist that crashed into his nose and then the both of them were going to the floor, grappling and twisting until Kimi darted into the fray and grabbed Charles.

“Go, she’s at home,” Kimi ordered as he pushed Charles back the way he came. “I’ve got it from here, kid.”

The video looped back to the start and you watched it twice more before determining you were fucked. It hit you like a train, the pressure slamming into your chest as you realised you were in love with Charles. No one had ever stood up for you like that, or taken a punch for you or risked their career. But he had.

You stayed cocooned in your blankets for most of the morning, watching the video footage from the night before and it became your new favourite binge worthy entertainment. It would probably be classed as insanity if anyone knew you had become addicted to it, but it was only the fact someone knocked at your door that you placed your phone down.

“Charles? I’m getting a little déjà-vu here,” you commented as you opened the door and found him sweating.

“Will you go on a date with me?” he blurted out. “Please.”

Your brows shot up at the outburst and you checked the student halls were empty before pulling him into your room. “Uh, you do realise who my father is, right?”

“I do, thank you for your concern,” he chuckled. “I was actually just with him. I wanted his permission to ask you on a date.”

“Well that explains why it looks like you’ve been running for your life.” You looked at your door expecting to see it kicked in. “Was he chasing you?”

“What? No, I wasn’t running. Fuck,” he groaned as he ran his hands over his jeans to dry his clammy palms. “I was just nervous about asking you out. You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I will.”

“Answer the question or go out with me?”

“I will go out with you,” you clarified with a laugh.

Relieved, he took a seat at the edge of your bed and sighed happily. “I have been waiting years to ask.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded before flopping himself down comfortably and you dropped down beside him. “Your dad scared me,” he admitted as he took your hand in his.

“But not anymore.”

Charles smiled and it was one so similar to the video that was still playing on loop. He seemed to recognise the muffled sound coming from the blanket at the same time you remembered it was there and fished it out. “You’ve seen it.”

“Once or twice,” you lied. “I see why you’re not afraid anymore. That’s one hell of a right hook.”

“Oh no I am definitely still afraid of Kimi,” he corrected as he rolled on his side to face you. “But I am done watching you date assholes when I know exactly how you deserve to be treated. I want to give you the world, if you’ll let me.”

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months

Text

safe

words: 1.1k

warnings: home break in (not really described though), drug dealer!rafe and reader, pregnant!reader, husband!rafe

“r-rafe.” your voice is timid and shaky, so unlike what rafe is normally used to hearing. he instantly knows something is off, wrong.

“baby, what is it?” rafe asks into the phone, wishing he could see your face right now, could read the emotion in your expression.

“something uh-something happened. the police are here.”

“shit, are you alright?” rafe is suddenly moving away from the party, needing the noise of music from the live band and people talking and laughing to stop drowning out your words. “is the baby alright? did barry get caught?”

“yeah, we are both fine.” you press your hand against your stomach, the spot your baby always kicks, glad when you feel her stomp against your skin, reminding you she's okay, even if you don't currently feel like you are. “its not the business. there were some um… robbers.”

“what?” rafe shouts, knowing he probably just made you jump over the phone, but he can't help the loud reaction, needing more information, and needing it now.

“yeah they came into the house. i hid in the closet, but they found me. they didn't do anything, just shoved me a bit. they did take a lot of the jewelry you got me, i don't know what else, you'll have to talk to the police and give them a full invento-”

“shit, y/n!” rafe interrupts you. “i don't care about our stuff! i only care about you and the baby. im coming home right now.”

“okay.” you whisper over the phone. “im sitting on the front porch.”

“and police are watching you?” rafe asks, hurrying to his car, not bothering to explain to anyone his sudden leaving as he tears out of the parking lot.

“yeah, they're here. don't worry, im safe. i don't think they even had weapons, at least none that i saw.” rafe can hear you take a shuddering breath, his heart breaking that he wasn't there with you, foot pressing down even harder on the pedal to get him there faster. “the police think they broke in and expected no one to be home because of midsummers.”

you look down, rubbing your hand over your belly. “guess they didn't expect me to be home because none of my heels fit anymore and even the maternity dresses make me look like a whale.” you mean it as a joke, but it has tears flowing down your eyes, wishing you would have just sucked up your insecurities and gone with rafe. you still would have got robbed, but without the trauma of being there during the break in.

“im two minutes, baby. two minutes and you'll be safe in my arms.” rafe tries to keep his voice calm for you, but it's a struggle.

“i… i just wanna be safe.” you mutter the last words of the call, voice breaking as you begin to sob. rafe hears an officer try to calm you, but he knows it won't work, knows the only thing you need is him.

he parks haphazardly behind the police cars, fully blocking the street without a care in the world, not even taking the car keys out as he runs across the yard, sprinting until he reaches you.

“im here.” his arms are finally around your shoulders. “im here.”

you continue to sob, only lessened by pressing your face into rafes chest as he cradles you, even managing to pull you onto his lap despite your protruding baby bump.

“ive got you, princess.” rafe kisses the top of your head, continuing his reassuring words, the police officers giving you some space, but not retreating any farther than the steps leading onto the porch.

“oh my god, i was so scared.” you whine out, managing to blink back your tears enough to look at rafe.

“im so sorry baby.” rafe sighs. “i should have been here.”

“no.” you shake your head. “you had to go to midsummers. it's okay.”

“as soon as you said you weren't coming, i should have canceled it. should have never left my pregnant wife at home alone. im the worst fucking husband.” rafe knows his words aren't comforting, but he needs to make sure you know that he is the one to blame for what happened.

“what?” you press your fingers against rafes cheeks. “you couldn't have known, baby.”

“i still should have been here.” rafe leans in, taking your mouth in a strong kiss. “i love you, baby.”

“oh my god, you're not gonna leave my side for the next year, are you?” you let out a tiny laugh, the noise relieving rafe, loosening some of the tension in his chest.

“definitely not, my love.” rafe pulls you closer.

“thank you for coming so quickly.” you whisper, letting your head rest against rafes chest. “i really am okay. just freaked out.”

“don't worry, baby.” rafes voice suddenly changes tone. “the second they try to sell any of your jewelry, ill find them. they won't make it far at all. ill make sure they can never hurt you or anyone else ever again.”

you know you should tell rafe to let the police handle it, to not get personally involved in clearly dangerous men, but any man who lays their hands on a pregnant woman doesn't deserve to breathe, let alone only be punished to a few months in jail like what would no doubtabley happen if you went the legal way.

“im surprised you haven't called barry already.” you laugh softly, knowing he will be just as pissed as rafe. you came into their life and helped expand the business, turning them from lowly dealers to something bigger, better. still dealing, of course, but offering protection and other services as well.

“figure id let the police leave first.” rafe rubs your back, glad that you're slowly getting back to your jokey and sharp witted self. “before he insisted on being your personal armed guard until those guys are put in the ground.”

“yeah, once baby girl pops, im going to have to ask him to teach me to shoot. just in case anything like this happens again.” you feel bad that you relied so heavily on rafes protection, that you let yourself slack to the point where an emergency arose and you hid in the closet instead of grabbing a glock.

“hey, what about me?” rafe whines, knowing he'd never let another man teach you how to shoot, not even your joint business partner barry.

“fine.” you joke, sighing and sliding off rafes lap. “you better go talk to the police about what else might be missing. i wouldn't let them snoop around.”

you don't keep anything illicit in your house, but just in case you weren't about to give the law open access to your home.

“in a minute.” rafe keeps his arms around you, not willing to let you move too far from his hold. “need to just keep my wife in my arms for a few minutes longer.”

you look out onto the sky, the stars glimmering in the darkness of light, allowing yourself to take a full, deep breath, at peace held in your husband's arms.

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