what do you think the 141 would do if they find out reader was ghosted by some guy she was talking with for a few months?
GHOSTED | 141 x F!READER
I do not like this at all. Please forgive this atrocity.
CONTENT: MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE | SWEARING | SUPPORTIVE FAMILY-ISH DYNAMIC <3
Three months ago, you had met this guy, Joe. He was nice, handsome and someone you loved talking to. However, you could only ever talk on the phone but he didn't seem to mind what you did for a living.
So sweet and understanding.
One morning you woke up and when you checked your phone, you felt something was off. There were no text messages from Joe like usual, but you shrugged it off and sent him one before throwing your phone down and getting on with your day.
A couple of days later, still no texts or calls. It was unusual, he was always the biggest on communication. Always sending texts about his day but nothing.
When it turned the week mark, it came to your attention that he had in fact ghosted you. You had checked his social media and also found out he blocked you on everything.
Which was not so sweet.
You were a little hurt inside, after thinking he was the one you would want to date after years of nothing.
When you went to the gym the next morning, you felt annoyance seep into your workout. Why didn't he just say something to you? Why be an asshole?
You threw your fists at the punching bag and heard the sound of clapping sound behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you see Soap and Gaz standing there with amused looks on their faces.
"Whoever you're imagining that bag to be should be worried" Gaz chuckles and you smile softly before sitting down on the bench beside you "Sadly I can't hit the real thing" you murmured before taking a sip of your water bottle.
"Oh, so you are picturing someone. Who?"
Here we go. You rolled your eyes but the two biggest gossip mongers sit on either side of you with hopeful looks in their eyes, waiting for you to spill the beans.
Taking a deep breath, you run your hands over your thighs and groan. "You know that guy I was talking to for a couple months?"
"Mr. Nice guy?" they say at the same time and you feel them get closer to you, their faces rather close for comfort. You hated when they did this.
"Yeah well, he ghosted me" you deadpan and they gasp in unison while looking at each other.
"What a dick" you hum in agreement and feel them take one of your hands in theirs. "We got you, he can go die for all we care" "Good idea Soap"
You see them give one another a look and before you know it, you're hoisted off the bench and carried all the way towards what you know is the Captains office.
"What are you doing? Put me down!" you yell but your voice is useless.
You're sat in one of the chairs opposite Prices desk and he raises a brow in confusion, because you know for a fact they just busted their way inside without knocking.
"Tell him what happened" Gaz says breathlessly and you shake your head "Its not important-"
"The guy she was talking to ghosted her! Can you believe it?!" Soap interupted you and Price leant forward on his desk with his hands rested under his chin.
"Mr. Nice guy?" he asks and you sigh "Can we please stop calling him that" you groan while rubbing your forehead where a headache is starting to form.
"I'll get my knives" you heard a voice say and jolted your head up not realising Ghost was in the room.
"I don't think that's necessary"
Ghost shrugs while standing in the corner, backing down, for now.
"Oh come on! let ghost after him, it'll make him regret not seeing how amazing you are"
"Yes, shaking him to his core. Guys it's fine, I'll get over him" you say simply and Price smiles "We are here for you, if he contacts you. Let me know" you nod your head while standing from your chair and leaving the office.
"I want to every single piece of information on him, got it?" John commands and everyone moves around the room in sync.
"Already working on it"
"Lets go visit this bastard"
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Y'all are going to like this one.
SWIFTIES DON'T TOUCH THIS POST WITH A TEN FOOT POLE, I SWEAR TO FUCKING HELL-
So my friend sent me this article, and I'm going to tell you why I think it's complete bullshit.
1) wishing us a happy Pride month is the BARE MINIMUM. As someone with her presence in the media and social influence, she could - and should - be doing SO much more than just wishing us a happy pride four days in.
2) "the singer has been an advocate for the LGBTQ+ community" not a good one. She seems to only remember us when it's convenient or benefits her in some way. Case in point:
2018 - "When it comes to feelings and when it comes to love and searching for someone to spend your whole life with. It's all just really really delicate. You know?" Taylor then performed her song "Delicate."
2023 - It’s painful for everyone, every ally, every loved one, every person in these communities.
In the first example, the intentional song reference comes off as extremely tacky. This is people's LIVES you're talking about. People are MURDERED for who they are and who they love (or don't love). This isn't an appropriate time to pull out the "oh-so-quirky" act and be cutesy.
In the second, the fact that she can't even center queer people in their own experience is so, SO telling. I promise, however painful it is for allies, it's 1000x worse for us to LIVE it. Allies don't have to wonder "am I going to get hate crimed wearing this?" before they leave the house - we frequently do. To not acknowledge that shows me that everything she says is performative at best.
3) I wouldn't call what she does "advocacy". She mentions us every now and then when it's convenient for her, profits off of us when we fit her marketing plan, and I've yet to find where she actually apologized for the homophobia in the original version of Picture to Burn. Also, she's real good friends with Travis Kelce's dad, who is a raging transphobe (and I bet his kids are, too). You don't get to call yourself an ally if you willingly allow the people around you to be violent bigots.
4) "always" is a strong word for someone who seems to show her support situationally at best. The full quote was "The way for that to happen is for us to continue to keep pushing governments to put protections in place for members of the LGBTQ community. And I promise to always advocate for that." Yet she doesn't do that.
5) what she speaks out, I've noticed that it's nearly always in the states that primarily agree with her. We don't see a whole lot of her "inspiring ally" speeches in places like Texas or Florida. But I've seen plenty of them come out of already notoriously queer-friendly places. If you aren't willing to face the heat of the difficult places along with the comfort of the easy ones, you don't get to call yourself an ally. Allyship is not easy. Anyone remember when Lady Gaga advocated for us in Russia, under threat of arrest, and her response was "arrest me, Russia! I don't give a fuck!"? Yeah, I've never seen even half that level of true commitment from Taylor.
6) STOP. MAKING. STRAIGHT GIRL SONGS. "GAY ANTHEMS"!!!! FFS it's such a slap in the fucking face of REAL, ACTUALLY QUEER ARTISTS that y'all keep calling these piss pathetic straight girl over produced crap songs "anthems". Fucking stop it. If they aren't queer, they don't qualify to be a queer anthem or icon. Start supporting ACTUAL queer artists with ⅛ this energy, for the love of FUCK. This bullshit pisses me off. Do you need a list of queer artists? I'll make you one by hand if you promise to stop trying to label Raylor Swift's straight girl shit songs as "gay anthems".
7) rainbows and gender subversion are not exclusively nor inherently queer. If that's our bar for "gay anthems", the bar is so low Lucifer himself needs a damn Webb Telescope to just barely see it from hell.
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-> redacted audio headcanons !
↳ blake & bestie edition
my obsession is obsessing so here i am with headcanons !! this is my first real hc post so be nice to me (/j). bestie is gender neutral but they're still more into oc territory than strictly canon so keep that in mind! i'll probably add to this post as i think of new ones 🖤
-> they both have multiple piercings and tattoos; blake has more tattoos, but bestie has more piercings.
↳ some of his include a snake on his right forearm, his sword symbol on his neck/collarbone area (potentially one that looks like it's piercing the skin but idk), and barbed wire just under his knuckles. his ears are pierced and so is his nose. perhaps also his tongue.
↳ some of bestie's tattoos include a crescent moon + stars on one of their fingers, a broken heart next to their eye, and various witchcraft symbols. they have two piercings in each ear, one on both sides of their nose, a belly button piercing, and a septum piercing that is secretly a clip on.
↳ they also have a "matching" tattoo with blake that they got when they were 18; they got them out of a roulette machine! blake got an open eye and bestie got a switchblade :)
-> bestie's a huge music fan and has like a thousand burned CD playlists to fit any mood or scenario they can think of. they don't get into anyone's car without a CD case that holds at least a hundred of them. they have all their playlists on spotify too, but they prefer physical media.
↳ one of their road trip CDs is titled "blake and bestie's infinite playlist" as a reference to the movie nick and norah's infinite playlist.
-> bestie is very physically affectionate with their friends, from holding hands to kissing cheeks and foreheads. obviously, this doesn't sit well with blake's possessiveness; he'll put an arm around their shoulder when in group situations to ward people off. bestie doesn't realize exactly why he's doing this, they just think he's reciprocating the way they show affection.
-> blake stares. intensely. usually at bestie, regardless of what they're doing, but he's generally more of a people watcher than an active member of conversation. dude had very little charm in high school; bestie was the real social butterfly.
↳ he gives bestie scary dog privileges with the staring. whenever anyone asks bestie why he's staring like that, especially at them, they just wave them off dismissively and say, "oh, that's just blake."
↳ his eye contact during convos with bestie is unparalleled, to the point that sometimes even bestie is like, "why do you look like you want to eat me?? i know i look like a snack, but come on-"
-> blake is a radiohead fan. he listens to "creep" whenever he's on the outs with bestie (whether he actually is or if he just thinks he is).
-> bestie's parents love blake, but their younger sister does not. she thinks blake has "bad energy," but bestie never listens to anything she has to say.
-> bestie and cutie are part of the same friend group! they're closer than most of the others (bestie loves a red flag 👍🏼) and likely get together to have gossip sessions over lunch or go to the mall. maybe not Best Friends, but definitely good ones.
-> bestie has had insomnia since junior year of high school. their parents say it started from stress (they're a whiz so they take multiple AP classes), but personally i think blake had something to do with it...
↳ present day, i have a vague idea that their insomnia is partially influenced by blake constantly fucking with their future, but i haven't thought too deeply about it (yet).
-> they can both be judgy bitches, tucking themselves off into a corner at a party to people watch. bestie's a little two-faced in that regard because they can be super friendly one minute and then turn around and be catty behind someone's back the next.
-> reality show enjoyers 🫵🏻 i’m talking the bachelor, love island, jersey shore, real housewives, anything with DRAMA. they’ll binge old seasons during sleepovers and facetime for weekly releases.
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The Curse of Sight, Part 6
DCxDP
[Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7]
[Ao3 Link] (locked for Ao3 members only)
Summary: When Wes Weston meets Tim Drake-Wayne, the dots start connecting. And those dots form a bat.
xxXxx
The screen focuses on a woman with her hair pulled back in a braid. The wall behind her is just a blank gray. She smiles into the camera, half-nervous and half-calm. She says, “We are five minutes into active lockdown at WE. Everyone is taking bets on which villain is holding the CEO captive.”
Off-screen, someone says, “We’re going to be fired for this.”
“No way, Mr. Wayne will probably think it’s funny.” The woman looks into the camera, “Anyway, my name is Rebecca, and I think that Poison Ivy is holding Bruce Wayne ransom until he personally solves the climate crisis.”
The camera switches to a black woman, “My name is Kourtnie and I think Mr. Wayne is being held captive by The Joker.” She waves a scolding finger at the camera. “He never got over the electric car thing.”
The next person is an older man who clears his throat before speaking, “Ahem, I’m Johnny. I think Mr. Wayne is being held by Two-Face, and he’s just angry that our boss skipped out on poker night, or something.” He turns to someone off-camera and asks quietly, “Will I get fired for that? Or will Two-Face shoot me for saying that?”
Someone answers, “Just hope it’s a quick death. And if you’re fired, you get unemployment.”
Johnny looks into the camera with a deadpan expression, “Party.”
The camera is switched from employee to employee, each placing their predictions and theories. Finally, the camera is handed to Wes, who just sighs.
“I’m Wes, the intern. I think Mr. Wayne is being held captive by no -name villains with guns, and that he’s just getting the typical American public school experience.”
A few moments of silence. Then, off-screen, Johnny quips, “Good to hear I won’t be the only one called into HR tomorrow.”
When the TikTok is somehow approved and is posted, it is captioned, “It was Kite Man #onlyingotham.”
xxXxx
Wes is relieved when he finishes his fitting, and is secretly excited with the idea of seeing animals. He knows that Damian Wayne is a little tetchy, but he’s pretty sure that Dick Grayson will be all too happy to let him pet his dog, Haley.
It’s basically free zoo time, like going to a pet store just to look at the animals. And he’s getting paid for it!
When they get to Wayne Manor, Wes blinks at the grandeur of it all, especially the imperial staircase in the interior entrance of the Manor and the crystal chandelier hanging from the high ceiling.
Ugh. Eat the rich.
“Do you guys want any snacks or drinks?” Tim asks as they walk in, the butler (introduced as Alfred Pennyworth, but everyone knows he’s basically the Wayne Grandpa) closing the door behind them.
“I think we’re good,” Wes says.
“Yeah,” Rebecca agrees. “We should mic up everyone who’s gonna be talking. Thanks for asking, though.”
“I’ll have cookies and refreshments ready after you come back from the barn nonetheless,” Mr. Pennyworth says. “It is hot outside, after all.”
Before Wes or Rebecca can say anything, Tim says, “You’re gonna want to try Alfred’s cookies. They’re legendary.”
“You flatter me, Master Tim.”
“Well, we gotta have legendary cookies,” Rebecca laughs.
Tim leads them into a sitting room where Dick and Damian are petting each other’s pets—Dick petting Titus and Damian petting the three-legged Haley, and Alfred the Cat overseeing her common citizens from the top of the sofa, her tail flicking imperiously behind her.
“Guys,” Tim says, clearing his throat. He motions to Wes and Rebecca, “This is Wes Weston, my friend. And PR intern. Oh, and, uh, this is Rebecca Grey, social media support specialist.”
“Thanks for remembering me, boss!” Rebecca chimes, then silently mouths, “support specialist” to herself, as if she’s never heard herself referred to as such.
Tim rolls his eyes, an action that Wes copies, and finishes the introductions, “And these are my brothers, Dick Grayson and Damian Wayne.”
“It’s great to meet you!” Dick says, jumping up from his crouch. He shakes hands with Rebecca, winking—always a performer, not just as a Flying Grayson, but also as a Wayne adoptee and the first Boy Wonder, surely. Rebecca nevertheless giggles.
Then it’s Wes’s turn for a handshake, and Wes wants to think he’s imagining things. He really, really does. But, Ancients curse him (as Danny and his group would say), he’s too observant to be making things up. So that means that Dick Grayson’s smile really does widen upon making eye contact, and his eyes really do narrow in what Wes hopes is interest and not suspicion.
When can Wes retire peacefully in the Maldives? Fifteen going on sixteen isn’t too young to consider early retirement, right?
Dick’s handshake is blessedly done with normal strength on his end, and Wes is just a puny basketball player from Amity Park, disregarding the minor ectoplasmic contamination that most Amity teens have. It’s not enough for superpowers like it is for Danny or his older sister (and that last bit is just a suspicion on Wes’s part, given that she lives above the damn ghost portal and all). The Fentons had officially proclaimed any contamination below 20% a “non-issue,” which isn’t as reassuring as they think it is, but it’s enough to keep the GIW off the average Amity Parker’s back, so there’s that at least.
At the intrusive thought of the Guys In White, his hands break out into a sweat, and he’s glad that he’s not shaking the first Robin’s hand anymore. That would be humiliating.
“Okay, so we should go ahead and mic you guys up,” Rebecca says. “Mr. Drake, do you want to be in this? We have enough mics.”
“Oh, yes, sure,” Tim says, and before he can say much else, Dick cheerfully says, “Great! I’m so excited to be in a TikTok with my little brothers. Hey, Wes, why don’t you mic up Tim? I’ll take Rebecca—” he throws her another wink, and Wes already knows from her dress specifications that she’s not straight, but she still flushes and giggles—”and then help her mic up Baby Dami, yeah?”
“Call me that again, Grayson, and Haley will have a new owner.”
Tim is also slightly flushed, so maybe it’s just hot in here as he responds, “Yes, yes, excellent idea!”
Dick just laughs while Rebecca pulls out the mic packs from one of the smaller AV bags meant for travel. She hands one of the packs to him, and then winks at him.
“Why did you—” But she’s already walking away to Dick, giving him a high-five before asking where he’d like the mic.
What the hell was that? What just happened?
Perplexed, Wes turns to Tim, but the other won’t look at him.
“Uh, Tim? You good?”
He coughs, “Ye-yeah! Yeah! I’m great. Fantastic. So. Miking up?”
“Uh, yeah. Where do you want….” Wes waves the mic in the air.
“Oh, just on my collar is fine. It’s not like I have to hide it, right?”
“Right.” Wes steps closer so they’re face to face, gently clipping the mic to the white collar beneath his work suit. He’s so close that he can feel the heat of Tim’s face, and when he’s done clipping the mic on, he smooths the clothes down with his palms.
Then, he makes the mistake of looking at Tim’s eyes.
Blue. Very blue and vibrant, like the sky while up in the airplane on his way. Not like the sky here in Gotham, sick with desperation, or in Amity, where it was more green most days now. No, Tim was alive, in a way that was foreign to both this city and Amity Park. And those blue eyes are focused squarely on him.
Wes’s heart stops. Then it starts running.
Tim bites his lower lip, and the movement jolts Wes into looking down. He’s never looked at another guy’s lips before, but Tim’s are pink and soft. He probably uses some kind of fancy rich people chapstick.
Wes wonders what it tastes like.
“Umm… Wes?”
“Yeah? Oh! Sorry, Tim.” Wes suddenly feels the heat that Rebecca and Tim must have been feeling this whole time, every part of his body burning in embarrassment. He takes a step back, clearing his throat, “Sorry, sorry… I got lost in thought.”
“No, it’s okay! ….I did, too.”
Wes can’t look up at him, fidgeting with the transmitter that now has to go onto Tim’s waistband.
“Um, can you turn around? I need to, uh, hook this up to your belt….” This was humiliating.
“Yeah, yes! Of course.” Tim turns around, and Wes makes quick work of slipping under the suit jacket and clipping the transmitter to his pants, refusing to accidentally draw out any unnecessary contact. He’s grateful that the Waynes are absurdly wealthy because at least there’s no wire to worry about threading beneath any shirts….
“You’re done now,” Wes says, and in unison, they both jump away, leaving five feet of space between them.
“Unbelievable,” Damian Wayne mutters, glaring at them, and Wes looks up from his embarrassment to see that Dick and Damian are already both miked up, and Dick and Rebecca are looking a little too happy with the situation. Rebecca is even already wearing the headphones that will catch the audio.
“Shut up, Demon,” Tim says, but it lacks any bite. Damian rolls his eyes.
“Let’s do a mic check,” Rebecca says. “Mr. Drake, we’ll start with you. Say anything.”
“Anything,” he deadpans.
“Good. Mr. Grayson?”
“Just Dick, please!”
“Got it. Mr. Wayne?”
“Sound check.”
“We’re on a roll, it looks like! Here, Wes, you take the headset to keep monitoring the sound, I’ll actually handle the camera.”
Wes dutifully takes the headset from her and puts it on, adjusting the connected mic so it wasn’t so close to his mouth.
“Alright!” Rebecca grins, delighted, and says, “Let’s get down to business!”
xxXxx
They wrap up filming at the barn where Wes can’t look away from the cow’s face.
She has a goddamn Bat symbol painted across her forehead. She is named Bat-Cow. Sure, Tim told him about her, but seeing it?
How do these people have secret identities?
Wes thinks about that time Brucie Wayne went viral for not knowing how much frozen garlic bread cost, or that time Dickie Grayson did an acrobat routine from a chandelier at a Wayne Gala when he was a child, and he understands.
Right. Some of them pretend to be idiots.
Wes is just the idiot who can see through it, for whatever accursed reason.
“Are cookies still on the table?” Rebecca asks, breaking through Wes’s internal thoughts.
“Yes, always!”
“Awesome! Let’s head back inside and remove the mic packs, then snack.”
“A woman after my own heart!” Dick pretends to swoon, and she laughs. Tim makes eye contact with Wes and rolls his eyes pointedly. Wes has to smother a chortle.
Damian gives one last head scratch to Bat-Cow before they start moving back up to the Manor, Tim falling in line with Wes farther back from the others.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey,” Wes says back.
“I was wondering….”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, do you wanna just stay the night and ride in to work with me tomorrow? Would your mom be cool with it?”
His mom would be more than cool with him staying at a friend’s house. Because that’s what Tim was, right? Just a friend. And his mom used to be so worried about his social development.
“Yeah,” he says. “She knows who to hunt down if I end up in Gotham Harbor. I’ll text her.”
Tim smiles and elbows his ribs, “Scaryyy.”
“Yeah, well. Moms.” Moms who were Amity Park natives transplanted to Gotham City? A different breed of terrifying, probably. Even if his mom moved to Gotham before the portal opened, there was always something unsettling about Amity Park, Illinois.
“True,” Tim notes.
As casually as he can, he says, “I’ll need to borrow clothes.”
“Right, obviously. You… can borrow mine, if that’s cool.”
“Super cool. Obviously.” Wes takes his turn to softly elbow Tim, even though he knows that he could put all his strength into it and it would be nothing more than a light brush against Tim’s Red Robin vigilante muscles.
Tim’s smile is soft and kind and his eyes are blue and alive.
Wes’s heart pounds. His skin prickles. He feels hotter, hotter than he did a few seconds ago, but surely it’s just because he’s under Gotham City’s June sun.
Still… he kind of likes the heat.
xxXxx
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