#look up hate crime statistics.

[scrumpster]

Full offense but if as a queer goy your first response to “Jewish people are in danger because of Kanye West’s antisemitic comments” is “they’ll come for queer people after they come for the Jews, we need to act” you should really be asking yourself why you need to make this about queer people and not Jewish people to care enough to act. Like yes this isn’t good for anyone but why does it need to be about you for you to care. Queer Jews are already in danger from this. Are we not human enough for you to give a shit about us?

[eventscrimes]

The Arab who bewildered all European research agencies and Interpol and escaped from the safest European prison newly established

There is no doubt that two people do not differ in the splendor and suspense of the events carried out by the most famous Hollywood movie scenes in recent decades, and perhaps the most important of them are Prison Break and La Casa de Papel, but no one will expect that the events of these films will turn into real scenes. It was played by a young Frenchman of Algerian origin named Radwan Fayed, who carried out an escape from prison security in France in a unique way that recalls the most powerful Hollywood scenes ever. The following is an inventory of the sequence of events in the story of Radwan Fayed, or the brain, as the French newspapers like to call it. Radwan Fayed's life story began simply and ordinarily in a family of Algerian origin. She immigrated to France, consisting of a father, a mother, and nine brothers, in addition to Radwan, where the father was working as an employee, while the mother was engaged in the field of cleaning, but the upcoming events changed the course of the story.

The beginning was.....................

[angelsaxis]

That statistic that lesbians are at the highest risk for IPV being completely misconstrued to mean that lesbians are like the biggest abusers of the LGBT+ community....i always knew that statistic was fucking off. It's just counting victims of hate crimes and violence, of which lesbians are 19%, it's not talking about IPV specifically and it sure as hell was not looking at the sexualities of both the perpetrators and the victims.

I've realized people have been citing this article which as far as I can tell doesn't actually interpret the findings correctly at all. The study is about survivor demographics and violence in general, not IPV specifically, but the article erroneously attributes the rounded up victim statistic to lesbians being victims of violence from other lesbians, and not the percentage of HATE CRIMES and other violence that are lesbians, as the heading for the section literally states

[hadesoftheladies]

men will be adamant that they are the ones who suffer the most above any given demographic. they will cite wars, torture in wars, gangs, murder and suicide statistics as proof. women must respect that they suffer more because more is expected of them (by other men). they have to provide and protect, so in danger, they will always be collateral damage for their family or for their country.

yet

all these are examples of how men treat men. all this, in spite of the fact that men respect men more than anyone else. so if this is how men have treated/treat people they respect, how do you think life has fared for people men hate: women?

all of a sudden, the data changes. women attempt suicide more. in wars, women aren't killed because they are kept alive for use, which is rape, which is torture. every war has women and girls tortured rather than killed, because women have use. just because they are not killed doesn't mean they are spared. to be killed in war is a privilege to women in warzones. one they covet. women face the most torture in war. women are collateral damage on the street. women are raped then killed, or just raped, that is, tortured, and they don't have to be in a gang to experience this. women and girls get tortured in their homes, by their fathers, brothers, brothers' friends. mothers, a good percent of which are minors, are left to fend for themselves and their babies, becoming the sole provider. it is more likely that a father would abandon his child than a mother. in history, fathers and brothers were protectors of their property, not their loved ones (those were sons), which was what wives and daughters were, assets that were part of his estate. protecting them was protecting his wealth, since he could trade and barter his daughter for more economic advantages or get a wife and have a free laborer on his estate. he could beat her, rape her, buy another wife. impregnate them so many times, so much, until they died early or in birth, or just stopped looking attractive enough. this is still the case in plenty of places all over the world.

the truth is that men do have it better and have always had it better under patriarchy, because that system doesn't hate them. it believes in their humanity. which is why it keeps pardoning the worst of men of the worst of crimes. just because men find men more disposable than women, since women can always be in use, doesn't mean women are privileged or spared.

men know women suffer more, both in number and in quality. historically, as well. because men would never want to be women. they are terrified of being women, let alone, being seen as women. they cannot bear the thought of being treated like women. because men know that men see women as subhuman and treat them subhumanly. they know that being seen as a woman, let alone being a woman, being seen to be woman-like, means they are up for the chopping block, whether economically or literally.

that's why they will bond over rape jokes and derogatory conversations surrounding women. in male relationships, men need to keep their distance from women in order to survive other men. men need to other women. being loyal to them or standing up for them risks them being seen as "womanly" or "woman-like" since only women are loyal to women.

if you ask a man if he'd like to be treated like a woman, he might say yes. but if you ask a man if he'd like to be treated like a woman by a man, that answer will change! ask him if he wants to be gang raped by dirty men until he bleeds or dies. ask him if he wants to be forced to give birth to his perpetrator's baby, his body tearing, breaking, bending so it can come out. ask him if he wants to be abandoned to taking care of that baby. would he prefer that risk to the risk of getting shot? robbed? men think how women treat women is the default of women's experiences. but how men treat women? no man would opt for that.

men assume that the dignity of dignified work is not in the interest of women, who are subhuman, and thus, don't have ambitions or dreams or longing to establish themselves and have wealth. that's why they get upset that women don't want to be housewives or prostitutes. yet, suggest being a house-husband or "sex worker" to a man, and they'll recoil in horror! men don't think women crave dignity! or need it!

women on the other hand, would rather be treated in nearly every situation as men are treated. men, despite their suffering, cannot fathom trading places with women.

so no. men do not suffer more under patriarchy or capitalism. not even they truly believe that.

[sailorholly]

Strictly Business Pt 1

Summary: Spencer wants to gain sexual experience before asking his out his dream date. You just want a way to release stress. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of crime scenes/cases. Friends with benefits. Eventual smut.

W/C: 1.5K

You roll your eyes at Officer Brewer. The handsome cop came on pretty strong with his cheesy pickup lines. Each one was more inappropriate than the last. It’s not that you didn’t find him attractive, but in your five years at the BAU, you had learned not to hook up with the officers you were assisting.

You had only been with the team three months when you were called in to help Portland’s local police on a case. Deputy Julian Lopez had been assigned to assist you on the field and you quickly fell for him. It took six weeks to catch the unsub. During that time, you and Julian were sneaking around, having a secret relationship.

You were heartbroken to learn he had been using you for information he fed to the media to make himself look like the sole hero on the case. What made it worse was the scolding Hotch gave you. You should have known better.

You and your favorite coworker, Spencer were on your way out of the small police station to see the medical examiner. A jogger had stumbled across two bodies in the woods on their daily route. The two of you were going to see if you could find any similarities between them.

“Hey beanpole, take care of my girl for me.” Brewer called out to Reid, winking at you in a way that made bile rise in your throat. “You don’t actually like that guy, do you?” Spencer asked once you left. “No way! I just flirt with him to make sure he cooperates with us.”

Spencer took his plump bottom lip between his teeth. You watched the innocent act wondering what it would feel like to have his teeth sink into your lip like that. You were attracted to Spencer, there was no denying that. It was purely sexual though. You knew the kind of hectic life JJ and Will had. You wanted no part of that.

You didn’t understand why there wasn’t a pile of women at his feet at all times. But so many thought he was too awkward or talked too much. You found it endearing when he shared the information his brain retained from reading something only once.

The two of you were closest to each other out of everyone on the team. You read together on the way home from cases. You would let him look at the latest book you were reading. He would finish it in three minutes, then continue with his own. Once you had finished, he would discuss it with you. You loved that about him.

You mostly read smutty romance, and you looked forward to the blush that would flood his cheeks when he read a particularly spicy scene. Sometimes he would clear his throat and shift in his seat. Those were your favorite moments. You spent most of your spare time together watching movies, you were teaching him how to cook and he taught you how to play chess. You paled in comparison to his skills, but he enjoyed playing with you.

When you returned to the police station, Spencer started giving statistics about the unsub. You watched as he scrunched his nose when he got to a part he found particularly interesting. You were practically drooling when he started talking with his hands. You couldn’t help thinking of what they would feel like against your skin.

You squeeze your thighs together trying to suppress the throb in your panties. Most everyone hated when he went off on a tangent, spilling every detail he knew about something, but not you. You never interrupted him once he started. You thought it was incredibly sexy how much endless information was stored in that brilliant mind under his messy curls.

After four long days, the case was finally solved. Morgan had captured the unsub when he went back to visit the crime scene. The whole team and the local police went out to the closest dive bar to celebrate. You were three shots in when Officer Brewer asked you to dance.

You decided it wouldn’t hurt, and you felt a little bad for shamelessly flirting with him all week. To your surprise, he was a great dancer. He spun and dipped you like a professional. When the song ended, you both walked over to the large booth both of your coworkers had settled in. Brewer placed his hands on your hips pulling you tightly against his body. He pointed at Spencer. “That’s how you woo a lady, Einstein. I’ve seen how you look at her. Just know she’s in good hands. She will be sleeping with a real man. She’ll be screaming my name tonight.”

You quickly remove his hands from your body. One glance at Spencer was enough for you to know that the jab had hurt him. Luckily, Brewer wouldn’t be able to tell. But you could read Spencer like a book. You grabbed the nearest drink off the table, splashing it in his face.

“You pompous ass! I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on Earth. For your information, Spencer is more of a man than you’ll ever be. He’s the perfect lover. He knows the female anatomy like you know your ABC’s. He can spell out Webster’s Dictionary in its entirety with his tongue when he goes down on me. He’s incredible.”

Spencer looks at you in disbelief. His brown eyes widen as he takes in what just happened. You take his hand in yours. “I’m ready to go.” He stands and walks out with you. You go back to the hotel spending the rest of the night watching rom coms on TV.

When you were back home, everyone was talking about what you said at the bar. Most importantly, you had to explain to Hotch that you and Spencer were not involved. He didn’t want to deal with all of the paperwork or the drama if it didn’t work out.

Penelope, Emily, and JJ cornered you by the coffee wanting every dirty detail of your hookup with Spencer. They were understanding when you explained you made it all up to defend him. Rossi seemed amused by the gossip. When you tried to set the record straight, he said “What you kids do behind closed doors is your business.”

Morgan was a different story entirely. He greeted Spencer with a high five. “My man! You could have told me. You and Y/N, huh? I’ve seen you two all cuddled up after cases. I should’ve guessed.” Despite Spencer denying anything between you, Derek couldn’t be convinced otherwise.

A few weeks passed, the gossip had been long forgotten with all the cases you had been working on. Your first free weekend, Rossi invited everyone to his house for a cooking lesson. The wine was flowing, even Spencer had a few glasses.

He was chatting with Derek about some girl he met through his Dr Who fan club. Spencer described her as his dream girl, but he was nervous to ask her out. Derek slapped him playfully on the back. “At least you’re not a virgin anymore, Pretty Boy. You should have plenty of confidence with the ladies now.”

Spencer’s face fell. He stormed out of the house. You followed after him, concerned for your friend. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You catch up to him, sitting on the step beside him. “I’m just tired of all the comments on my personal life. Just because I don’t have a different girl in my bed every night doesn’t mean I’m a virgin. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, anything.” You reply laying your head on his shoulder. “Why did you say all that stuff at the bar?” He places his head on top of yours. His mop of messy brown hair flowing down your cheek. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just trying to stand up for you. I wasn’t going to let anyone talk to you like that.”

“I know that. I meant… Never mind.” He lifts his head and scoots over, distancing himself from you. “What is it? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” He sighs looking everywhere but at you. “Why did you say I was a perfect lover and that thing about the dictionary?”

“It just kinda came out. I guess I said it because that’s what I always imagined it would be like.” Finally he looks at you. “You’ve imagined doing that with me?” His voice raises several octaves when he asks. You nod your head in response. You could tell the conversation was taking an awkward turn so you change the subject.

“So tell me about this dream girl. You’ve been keeping secrets!” He smiles sheepishly. “Her name’s Chloe. She’s brilliant. We like a lot of the same things. She speaks three languages. I want to ask her out on a date, but all that stuff Morgan said is messing with my head. What if I’m not enough for her? I’ve only been with one woman. I’m not exactly skilled in that department.”

He swallows hard, self doubt sketched all over his soft features. “I would like to have more experience before I take her out. So I can be more confident.” “I have a crazy idea. You can say no if you want. But what if we slept together? You want more experience and I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. It would be great practice for you since we are comfortable with each other. I would tell you what you need to improve on. And it would be a good stress reliever for me. What do you think?”

Spencer studies your face carefully looking for any signs of this being a cruel joke. When he is certain you meant it, he answers. “What about our friendship? I don’t want to mess this up.” He gestures between you.

“Of course we will still be friends. It’s not like we are going to fall in love. Think of it as a business transaction. We won’t let emotions get in the way. It will be strictly business.”

“No feelings?” He asks reaching his outstretched pinky towards you. “No feelings.” You confirm hooking your pinky with his.

Part Two

Tags (if you want to be added let me know)

@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85

[hussyknee]

Video description:

Preface reading: "Rafeef Ziadah, 12/11/11, London". The video begins showing a young woman on a stage, her hair cut in a sharp, short bob, wearing a gauzy black dress with red accents to match the stage wall behind her. She speaks into a mic in a blend of Canadian and Palestinian accents:

Transcript: "I'll start with this poem I wrote. This poem—when the bombs were dropping on Gaza I was the media spokesperson for the coalition, doing a lot of the organizing, and we'd stayed up to about six o'clock in the morning perfecting every soundbite and by the end of—you know most Palestinians get tired and start pronouncing our "P"s as "B"s so we could become "Balestinians" by the end of the day. So I was practicing my "P"s all night, and the next morning one of the journalists asked me, "Don't you think it would all be fine if you just stopped teaching your children to hate?"

I did not insult the person, I was very polite, but I wrote this poem as a response to these types of questions we Palestinians always get."

Today, my body was a TV’d massacre. Today, my body was a TV’d massacre that had to fit into sound-bites and word limits. Today, my body was a TV’d massacre that had to fit into sound-bites and word limits filled enough with statistics to counter measured response; and I perfected my English and I learned my UN resolutions—But still, he asked me, "Ms. Ziadah, don’t you think that everything would be resolved if you would just stop teaching so much hatred to your children? Pause. I look inside of me for strength to be patient but patience is not at the tip of my tongue as the bombs drop over Gaza. Patience has just escaped me. Pause. Smile. "We teach life, sir." Rafeef, remember to smile. Pause. "We teach life, sir. We Palestinians teach life after they have occupied the last sky. We teach life after they have built their settlements and apartheid walls, after the last skies. We teach life, sir." But today, my body was a TV’d massacre made to fit into sound-bites and word limits. And— "Just give us a story, a human story. You see, this is not political. We just want to tell people about you and your people so give us a human story. Don’t mention that word: “apartheid” and “occupation”— This is not political. You have to help me as a journalist to help you tell your story which is not a political story—" Today, my body was a TV’d massacre. "How about you give us a story of a woman in Gaza who needs medication?" "How about you? Do you have enough bone-broken limbs to cover the sun? Hand me over your dead and give me the list of their names in one thousand two hundred word limits." Today, my body was a TV’d massacre that had to fit into sound-bites and word limits and move those that are desensitized to terrorist blood. But they felt sorry. They felt sorry for the cattle over Gaza. So, I give them UN resolutions and statistics and we condemn and we deplore and we reject and— These are not two equal sides: occupier and occupied. And a hundred dead, two hundred dead, and a thousand dead. And between that, war crime and massacre, I vent out words and smile (not exotic), smile (not terrorist) And I recount, I recount a hundred dead, two hundred dead, a thousand dead. Is anyone out there? Will anyone listen? I wish I could wail over their bodies. I wish I could just run barefoot in every refugee camp and hold every child, cover their ears so they wouldn’t have to hear the sound of bombing for the rest of their life the way I do. Today, my body was a TV’d massacre And let me just tell you, there’s nothing your UN resolutions have ever done about this. And no sound-bite—no sound-bite I come up with, no matter how good my English gets—no sound-bite-no sound-bite-no sound-bite-no sound-bite, will bring them back to life, no sound-bite will fix this. We teach life, sir. We teach life, sir. We Palestinians wake up every morning to teach the rest of the world LIFE. Sir.

End transcription.

I think this twitter thread gives some necessary political context for the poem, so you can really understand the cruelty and barbarity of that question, and why Western media insistently shies away from "political" answers:

Cursory Google check corroborates all the info except for the number of peace settlements Israel's rejected. I can't find the exact number off the first page of Google and my head is throbbing too much to look deeper. I'm going to leave that for y'all to fact check.

(I went and looked Rafeef Ziadah up to check whether she's still alive (because that's what we do with Palestinians now) and she's safe in London, teaching Politics and Public Policy at King's College. You can find the rest of her poetry here.)

[the-fo0l]

Spencer Reid x gn!reader hcs

Notes: lotta spencer content has him as an asshole, pregnancy, angst, smut, insecure reader...so here's some classic fluff

Warnings: fluff!, earlier seasons reid +he's kind of a simp (and a bit subby ;))

the way his eyes just absolutely light up whenever he sees you <3

the man's a total genius, but only in the book-smart way, socially, he's a little...stunted

he's very much not used to any proper form of love, so you're gonna have to be a bit patient with him while he gets used to it

but believe me he is trying his very best cause he does not want to dissapoint you

at first he thought your love of his rambles was just a way to make fun of him

but since you seem to actually like listening to him talk, he'll take the opportunity to ramble to you about anything and everything on his mind

which the team appreciates, he has an outlet to rant to, someone to attend his geeky events with, and most importantly, someone reliable to support him

(they are still annoyed when he's constantly on the phone with you, meanwhile there's an active crime scene a few meters away)

before you two started dating he probably already considered you his best friend who he totally neverrrr had a crush on (sarcasm)

he was blushing, stuttering, jittery mess when he asked if he may be your boyfriend

and yes, that's how politely he asked

or at least he tried to, you had to cut off his blabbering with a "yes"

how could you ever say no to such a charming, lovable, polite young man

plus yk...he's cute as hell

the type to go out of his way to wake up early to make your coffee and breakfast just the way you like

wearing matching rings, either with each other's initials or some nerdy inside joke

he absorbedly teases the ring on his finger when he misses you

whenever someone mentions you he gets visibly more engaded in the conversation, and the team teases him like crazy for it

like, sometimes the crew'll pretend to be talking about you and watch how reid immediatly perks up from whatever file he was buried in and turns to look where the he heard your name be spoken. and he falls for it every. fucking. time

gushes to you about any new interesting books, reseach, interesting statistics, facts, events etc

in a similar vein, he'll get caught in gushing to the gang about how cool and smart and funny his partner is

rizzes you up w magic tricks

but can't handle you flirting with him, he's smiling like an idiot and bashfully looking away, with his face all red

a lot of people say he wouldn't like pda, and i get it, but i think if you've been together long enough and he feels comfortable around you he's not shy about expressing it, verbally or physically

i mean yeah, it's not "all up in your face" pda, it's with smaller affectionate gestures

vents all his thoughts, concerns and emotions out to you, and listens attentively and patiently when you have to vent

falls in love with you all over again listening to you get caught up talking about your interests/opinions

man's capable of easily retaining encyclopedias worth of info, so anything and everything you tell him gets commited to his database of a mind

be it the most insignificant gossip or tiniest detail about your childhood, you best belive he's never forgetting that shit

tries his best to not profile you or try to explain your emotions to you, but really he dosen't need to be told twice when it comes to learing the intricacies of realationship ettiquette

he's never dated anyone before and he's about as nervous as he is excited

deeply fears disappointing you, hates the thought of being a burden to you, so hearing affirmations of your love verbally means a lot

more than anything he needs a solid positive presence to help him deal with his emotions

so if he's had a really bad day, or a rough case, he comes to your front door and just totally breaks down and falls into your arms, crying into your shoulder

if anything traumatic were to happen to him, you're the first person he needs to be there

and if he woke up in a hospital bed he'd immediately start asking for you, rather frantically too

and if the event is traumatic enough, he may become a bit codependent, at least for a week during the recovery process

used to get jittery around you from nerves, now it's from the uncontainable happiness he feels being around you

his kisses are so shy and inexpirenced but also so, so needy and desperate

he'd die if you ever custom made a puzzle or quiz with questions about your relationship, like he'd be so overjoyed, literally would never shut up about it

(he'd nail it ofc)

reid usually isn't one for physical affection, like, not at all

but it's completely the opposite with you, he can't seem to keep himself away

and the guy is starved for touch...or really affection of any kind, so whenever he can, he clings onto any part of you he can

sits on your lap facing you, it's like you guys' favorite relaxing position, it's so intimate

follows you around like a puppy, all giddy and stupid with love

always holds your hand or onto your forearm while walking beside you

cuddles very close, tightly intertwined with you

you'll have to squirm and push while he just pulls himself closer into the crook of your neck

or yk just tickle his sides when he least expects it

reads to you, odds are whatever book it is, he's already read it, dozens of times over if it's a classic or scientific. he very well could just recite it but if there wasn't a book to look at, he'd have to look at you which would make him get distracted and trail off

which you'd, of course, playfully tease him for

in conclusion, you're never allowed to break up with him, i don't make the rules, it's the law

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

Man, this pisses me off so bad. If you're a woman who relates more to males than other women, it's because you've decided to focus more on how you're different from other women rather than how you're like them. You will literally never have more in common with males, and males do not feel the same way about you. These cute little posts that you write about how you love males more than your fellow women? They do not write the same thing about you. They hate and mock you constantly. Anyone remember "Cis women need to shut up"

"As a cis woman, I agree"

"You need to shut up, specifically"

?

Yea, that's how they feel about you and your solidarity.

The difference between lesbians and trans women in female spaces is the fact that lesbians do not have high rates of violence. There is no group of women that outclass men in terms of violent tendencies. Trans women retain the rates of male violence that regular men do. I'm not saying you have to treat trans women like they're all violent beasts, but if you can't see why female people would be uncomfortable with male people in their spaces, you're either naive or genuinely unsympathetic towards the very real fear that women have of being subjected to male violence. You can't say trans women and lesbians are similar because, unlike males, there is no statistical evidence that lesbians are highly likely to take advantage of a woman. If it turned out that 98% of rapes were committed by lesbians, I would 1000% understand why straight women don't fucking want to be around me. Have some fucking empathy, holy fucking shit. Even if you are completely on board with trans women being in female spaces, at LEAST acknowledge that it makes sense for women to be concerned about who is allowed in their spaces. It's crazy how I could tell someone I have a fear of dogs because one bit me when I was a kid, and they'd put their sweet pooch up, but God forbid a woman be cautious around a demographic who commit 90% of all violent crime. Oh no. That woman is suddenly a terf bitch.

I have nothing in common with trans women. I don't care how much pain they have experienced. We are not the same. When I was twelve, I cried and I cried as I put my palms together to pray to a God I hoped would be able to take away my homosexuality. I didn't even grow up in a particularly homophobic family. Both of my parents were accepting of me, but I still sat in the dark of my room, tears streaming down my face, as I prayed to have my sexuality changed.

Two years later, one of my friends made a joke about me dressing to impress my crush. She said my crushes name---a feminine name. A girl sitting in earshot heard her, turned to me, and asked me with disgust if I was gay. I said no without even thinking about it. It absolutely did not help that we were in a locker room with other girls. I was aware of my sexuality by that point, but I was 14 and unable to hold my own against a girl looking at me like THAT. For a few weeks after that, that girl made comments about how she was "watching me".

I know pain, I know discomfort, I know what it's like to feel predatory. Seeing feminine women, especially if they're white, makes me feel like an alien. I look at them and think "how are we so different? I see none of myself in you."

Sometimes I'm right. Sometimes we're not similar at all. But guess what? That doesn't mean I'm similar to a straight male. Fucking hell, sometimes I'm not similar to other lesbians. That's completely normal. I think OP needs to read better work by cishet women. If you think that there is not a single piece of cishet female writing that can move you more than something written by a male, you're not looking in the right places at all. I don't understand why some LB women seem to think that the very act of someone being a straight woman makes them incapable of relatability. Of course it makes sense for you to be cautious. Lesbians deal with a lot of alienation and predatory feelings, but if the very ACT of a woman being cis and straight makes you feel like she has absolutely nothing in common with you...? The issue lies with you. YOU are the one othering THEM. Not the other way around. You're the one who has decided that a few cis straight women othering you means that they ALL will so you'd better beat them to the punch. You're the one who has decided that your relationship to womanhood is so astronomically different from straight women that nothing they say speaks to you. That's INSANE. Do you realize how much you have to alienate yourself from womanhood to feel more relatability with a male person than a female one? Idk how to tell you this, but it is highly probable that the most cis, most het woman you have ever met has had a period. It's highly likely she's been harassed by a man. It's highly likely she's been made to feel inferior by way of being born female. No, they can't relate to the experience of being a lesbian who is made to feel predatory for no reason, but to say that nothing a cis het woman says/experiences can move you at all? Nothing they say can make you feel like your experience with womanhood and hers are similar? Do you realize how you sound? "Trans women have been harassed by men and made to feel inferior, too!!" Okay! So you should be able to relate to cis women in the way you do trans women, right?

I told my discord server that I was nervous about my future roommates. I showed them photos and someone said "all this tells me is that they're feminine and white" and I literally think about that all of the time. I was projecting. I was so scared that these white, feminine, probably straight women were going to judge me for being a black lesbian that I didn't even realize that I was the one violently judging them based off of nothing but their skin color and their femininity. I knew nothing about them. I STILL know nothing about them. I've barely spoken to them. But already I had labeled them as unrelatable judgemental women because of how they looked. Hold on. Wasn't I the one afraid of them judging ME? How could I be so afraid of them judging me for being a black lesbian when I was the one judging them already? What sense does that make?

You guys are so busy writing off cis straight women as unrelatable bigots that you've failed to see that you're the one who is extremely prejudiced against them. And I absolutely fucking know someone is gonna read this and say "well, you can't say that all trans women have male violence patterns and dahdahdahdah" and it's like. But YOU can say that cis straight women are so unbelievably different from lesbian women that you'd rather say you're more similar to a straight up fucking male???

I'm not saying it's not a little jarring to see women who are so different from me. I'm not saying I haven't been burned before and there's no reason for me (or other lesbians) to be cautious. But I will literally ALWAYS have more in common with cishet women than I ever will a man pretending to be a woman.

One time I had a professor. She was on the older side (I'd say 40's) and white. Not the type of person I'd think I'd click well with. She was straight and married with children. One day we talked after class, and the only thing that ended our conversation was the fact she had an event she had to go to. We would've talked longer if not for that. She emailed me a little while later to tell me that she enjoyed our chat. After that, she actually hugged me on two occasions. You wouldn't think we'd have common ground. An older, straight, married white mother and a young black lesbian. Both of us are "cis" but I can tell you I relate to her much better than I ever could someone born male.

I once had a personal trainer who was a feminine woman. She had acrylic nails and everything. One time she said that she couldn't hug her male friends anymore because she had a boyfriend (he wasn't the one enforcing that rule. That was something she personally felt). Also not someone I thought I'd click well with. But we did. One time we had a really productive discussion that was actually derived from the conversation with my professor. I felt very close to her in that moment. Our conversation came to a close because she had another client, but I still think about that convo.

There have been so many fucking times where I thought "this woman is not like me. Look at her." But what I realized was that I was the judgmental one. I was the one deciding we were different, not her. I was the one writing her off. I was the one convinced we had nothing in common.

I am BEGGING you not to alienate your fellow women. There are no inherent traits that make you unable to relate to other women. No amount of whiteness or cisness or straightness can make a woman completely unreachable. I am NOT talking about political parties or views so don't fucking try me with that shit. Obviously that puts a wedge between people, but someone simply being born cis and het does not make them alien from you. For God's sake, look at the fucking MeToo movement. Women from all fucking backgrounds who share an experience that an unfortunate amount of women go through. Women from all different races, sexualities, etc. who came together to talk about how they've been subjected to sexual violence. Ellen degeneres was one of them. How does that fit into your "lesbians and cishet women cannot relate to each other" spiel?

OP's post has 130k notes and it makes me fucking sick. Holy crap y'all, we need more solidarity than this. Other women are not your enemy. I'm begging you to reconsider your approach to women who are different than you. You are missing out on people who can love and support you in a way that literally no male can. You are depriving yourself. Just because a few cishet women in the past alienated you, does not mean that you have to continue their legacy. Let it go. Everyone on earth can see you embracing your hatred of women, and you wonder why your fellow women never hug you? They fucking can't! Put your hatred down and make space for the love that comes with realizing that you absolutely are like other girls!

[the-guilty-writer]

Valid

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After experiencing a non-epileptic seizure, Spencer refuses to leave your side.

A/N: Oh you know… just me writing to try to help heal from medical trauma.

CW: reader experiences a non-epileptic seizure, mentions of medical gaslighting.

---

For once, you found a doctor that you didn’t hate. Of course, most of the doctors you hated were MDs and Spencer had three PhDs, so he wasn’t a medical doctor, but sometimes just the Dr. abbreviation in front of the name was enough to make you upset.

You wondered, sometimes, if those doctors would have a different opinion about the cause of your so-called “psychogenic” seizure condition if they knew that you didn’t have seizures when you thought about how angry you were at them, despite their insistence that strong emotions were surely the cause of your episodes. If it wasn’t that, then they’d say it was repressed trauma, despite having therapists and psychological evaluators tell you that they didn’t see anything concerning. In the early days, you’d kept track of everything, hoping to find a trigger that was avoidable or something that you could work through, but you never did. And medical professionals never believed you.

There was nothing they could do.

You worked at the BAU, but not on the team. Your job was all about VICAP- analyzing the data to help look for any serial crimes that crossed state lines to give the FBI jurisdiction, and to evaluate if any of them required the expertise of the BAU. As soon as your position was added to the unit, Spencer had become intrigued with your job.

“You’re doing a geographical profile on the whole nation, essentially,” he had said.

“Essentially,” you had replied.

Because of safety reasons, everyone you worked with knew about your condition, but you didn’t make a big deal out of it. If anything, you tried to hide it as much as possible. When you did have seizures, you usually caught an aura in time that you could close your office door, lay down to make sure you were safe, and recover in peace. That was the only reason you were thankful that your office, which was previously JJ’s, wasn’t in the bullpen.

Most of the time, however, you were in the bullpen- sitting at a spare desk with at least two computers and a stack of spreadsheets. That’s exactly where you were today.

“Anything interesting?” Spencer asked as he came by your desk, leaning against it and taking a sip of his coffee.

“Possibly,” you replied. “And by possibly I mean there is about a-” you typed in a few numbers on your computer. “0.0032% chance that there’s a serial killer crossing between Texas, Oklahoma, and Kansas.”

“You know,” Spencer started. You probably did know, but you let him keep talking anyway. “For an organized killer that would be a great way to evade detection considering all the jurisdiction lines that would be crossed.”

“That’s why I check it every week,” you told him. “I might not be a profiler, but I do know my statistics and geography.”

“Oh, that reminds me of…” Spencer began to ramble on about a new paper that had just been published. “I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” you went to smile, but it faltered slightly as the wave of an aura washed over you. And this time it was the kind that you knew was coming hard and fast. “I’ll be back-”

You got out of your chair and began to walk towards the bathroom. You wouldn’t make it to your office, but maybe you could save yourself the embarrassment of having to explain your unexplainable condition. Weakly, you opened up the bathroom door and stumbled inside.

Even thought it hadn’t stopped a seizure in the past, you leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on your face with the hope that it might work just this once. You felt the aura get stronger, more intense, and your body began to give out.

You crumbled to the bathroom floor- your vision leaving you and your control over your body gone. It felt like your brain had turned to mush. There was a faint sound of a door opening, but you weren’t sure if it was real or not, because the next thing you knew, you were out cold.

---

When you started to come too- the liquified world becoming solid once again- you smelled Spencer. It was his cardigan, balled up under your head. The next thing that cleared up was your hearing, but the only thing you could hear was the soft buzzing of the bathroom lights that needed to be replaced. And then there was your vision. It always came back last and was the slowest to clear, but when it did come back to you, you were met by the sight of Spencer.

There was a sort of panicked calm about him- his eyes wide with worry, but his voice soothing as he talked.

“Hey,” Spencer said calmly. “It’s Spencer. You had a seizure. Just relax.”

You took a deep breath. It could be hard to speak after a seizure sometimes, but you were able to get some words out. You started to focus on your breathing, letting the world come back to you slowly. “I’m fine.”

“You had a seizure,” Spencer said again. “Please relax. I don’t think you’re fully coherent yet.”

“I’m fine, Spencer,” you said. You carefully tried to sit up, but your head was still fuzzy and your body was still weak. Slowly, you pulled your torso upward and leaned against the wall for support before handing Spencer’s cardigan back to him and closing your eyes. “Please, just leave.” You felt heavy with embarrassment.

“I’m not going to leave you,” Spencer said gently. He sat down next to you on the floor. “You shouldn’t be alone after that.”

You opened your eyes a bit, trying to get used to the lights. “Spencer, please-”

“No,” this time he said it far more firmly. “I’m going to stay with you until you’ve recovered.”

Tears began to well in your eyes and you felt yourself wanting to sob. “They’re not even real,” you whispered. Those were the words the doctors had told you. Even after years of trying everything from CBT to biofeedback to mediation… they all just believed you were hysterical or looking for attention. “They’re not a big deal.”

“I saw it,” Spencer said, his voice taking on a higher tone. “It was real, and it was scary, and it is a big deal.”

“Then why don’t the doctors think it’s real? Why do they say it’s all in my head?” you said quietly. A tear slipped down your cheek, but you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was the humiliating feeling that a coworker had seen you at your worst, or the echoes of the voices of all the specialists that told you that you were crazy over and over again.

Spencer took your hand gently, trying to comfort you. “It’s not all in your head. There’s so much about the brain that we don’t know- it’s possible that what causes your seizures scientists don’t even know exist yet. Just because they can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t real. It isn’t your fault that medical professionals feel the need to blame things they can’t see on psychiatric issues instead of being open minded,” Spencer tripped over his words just a little. You hadn’t spent months hanging around profilers to have caught onto nothing.

“You sound like you speak from experience,” you said quietly. There was a pause. “But you don’t have to tell me.”

“No, I-” Spencer said. “I want to tell you.” He sighed. “A few years ago I was having headaches. They’d last days at a time. I couldn’t focus at work and it cut my reading speed in half.” If you had the strength you would have laughed at that- even at half the speed, Spencer could still read about five times as fast as the average person. “And I got every test and image done imaginable, but the doctors told me it was all in my head.”

His hand was still in yours and you squeezed it gently in support. He smiled gently. “I ended up finding a geneticist that helped me. She had me superdosing with a few vitamins at certain intervals and they cleared up eventually.”

“I’m happy for you,” you told him. It was sincere. As hard as it was to watch other people get better while you still suffered, you were always glad they didn’t have to continually experience pain.

“I wish I could help you,” he said.

“You’re the only doctor I know who hasn’t minimized my experience and told me that yoga and therapy will make it go away. That’s more help than an MD has given me in years.” You opened your eyes fully, having started to recover more.

Spencer’s eyes were wide and longing, like if he looked at you with enough sympathy it would take all the trauma of being gaslit for years taken away. “You’re not crazy. Your condition is real, No matter what anyone says.” He squeezed your hand again. “You’re valid.”

There weren’t words to express the relief his words gave you, so you had to settle and hope that he could feel, through the touch of your hands, how impactful his acknowledgement was.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Really. Thank you.”

[eventscrimes]

What happened to rapper Joshua Ribera, and what did the surveillance cameras capture? Q.D. S.D. Damt United Kingdom

Our case took place in England on September 20, 2013, where a talented young man lived. He was a rising rapper. His name was Joshua Ribera, and he was known by his name De Bs Malna. Ribera grew up. In the city of Birmingham, I see, Pera had a very difficult childhood because most of his life was with her mother. From a young age, he loved singing very much and considered it the only outlet through which he could express the problems he was experiencing. This young man was able to achieve great success in the field. His songs topped iTunes, although Ribera loved this kind of music. Which we know is somewhat profanity-based, and most of the songs talk about violence, but the real personality of Ribera was completely different. He loved her mother and grandmother very much, and he was very close to him, publishing from time to time pictures of his mother and grandmother on her page, expressing his love.

[anamericangirl]

When people say LGBTQ rights, they're advocating for protections against violence and discrimination for these groups.

Let's take a look at trans people for example.

60% of trans people face discrimination every year. That is to say 3 out of 5 trans people will be be denied something like healthcare, food aid, housing, or face discrimination in their workplace or their school at least once a year. It makes them one of the most (but not the most) discriminated against minorities in America.

They also, you know, have to deal with hate crimes and violence from people who want them seriously injured or dead.

Plus attempts to outlaw their existence by either preventing them from legally being seen in public or by preventing them from recieving GRS or HRT.

Anyone who thinks equal rights has been achieved in this country for LGBTQ people is simply wrong.

Anyone who is against the idea of equal rights for LGBTQ people either doesn't understand the meaning of equal rights or is a bigot that wants discrimination against LGBTQ people to go unpunished.

LGBTQ people (and lots of other minorities) need more protections than what they already have because it's the best way to significantly limit or end discrimination against them.

They are protected against violence and discrimination because violence and discrimination are already illegal. Against anyone. They just want special provisions just for them.

And having seen what they are considering "violence and discrimination" these days I'm not inclined to believe they are actually as targeted as they claim. They are trying to re-invent what violence and discrimination are because they want to be victims so bad but like 99% of the time I hear one of them claim they've been a victim of violence or discrimination what really ended up happening was someone had an opinion they didn't like and it made them mad or they were subject to the same rules everyone else is.

I'm not willing to give people extra protections against violence and discrimination when they can't even tell me what violence and discrimination is or prove that they even need it.

I think you don't even know what discrimination is because simply being denied something is not discrimination and you implied that it was so I don't trust any of your statistics lol.

What is the alleged violence and discrimination they are facing? Give me specific examples. And what do these "protections" against violence and discrimination look like? It's already illegal so if you want something further you need to explain in detail what that means and what it would entail.

[iwriteloveletters]

Bring Me to Life (Yan!Eren Yeager x Reader)

Hello its me again! This is my first ever x reader fic and I had a lot of fun writing this, I hope if you stumble across this you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Warnings - None

Spoilers - NOT SPOILER FREE

Description - After Eren loses you, the love of his life, and then his own life. He goes back in time to a simpler time of the world including his own; where you're alive. He now decides he has to do whatever he needs to in order to save you.

Words - 3.5K

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Chapter One - Reunion

“I’ll see you later, Eren.” Was the last thing he heard before darkness flooded his vision. He heard sobs and screams echo amidst the darkness he saw. Still feeling the warmth of Mikasa's arms around his head. 

He finally did it, he would think to himself. He started the rumbling and wiped out 80% of humanity, all at the cost of his own life in return for his friends' lives. But what about you? What happened to you? 

You were killed during the attack on Marley, he saw it coming of course and didn’t do anything to stop it but it affected him more than expected. You were someone he admired, loved, and cherished. Of course it was going to affect him, but why didn’t he stop it? He had faith that you were gonna change your own future, you were going to survive and you were going to be seen as a hero just like the others; but instead you became a part of the statistic of soldiers that didn’t make it back home alive. You and Sasha never made it back home, neither did Hange. He thought the way a nineteen year old hopelessly in love would. 

It was still dark but he was still conscious. He was supposed to be dead. Why is he still in the dark? He was expecting to be in Hell for his sins and crimes against humanity. All he knew was that this wasn’t the Paths, Purgatory, or Heaven. This was something entirely different. 

The echoed screams and sobs abruptly stopped while he was questioning where he was, he heard a voice – it was Mikasa’s. 

“Eren… Eren…” He heard her speak, her voice was higher pitched. She was younger. 

He opened his eyes to the sight of her, the sunlight blinding him on top of that. 

“Why were you crying?” She asked the now younger Eren, he touched his face and felt his wet cheek. 

He looked down at his hands and it confirmed his thoughts, he was young again! Does that mean you were here too? He had to find out. 

Mikasa waved her hands in front of his eyes, “Hello… Why were you crying? Are you okay?” 

He came back to his new reality, once again lost in his thoughts, “I had a weird dream that’s all.” He said, excited to see all his friends again. 

“About what?” 

“I forgot.” 

She helped him up from his spot under the tree and said that he needed to continue gathering wood for his mother. He felt a wave of emotion hit him. 

His mom was back, his mom was back and she wasn't a Martyr for a nine year long goal. Not yet, did he have to witness it all again. He has to find everyone and everything he lost. 

He nodded and followed Mikasa along. It was quiet, he used to hate silent walks but after everything that happened he can appreciate something as trivial as a silent walk for once in his life. 

They bumped into Armin on the way home, saving him from the bullies he had, which he also appreciates. He gets to feel like the hero again even if the real hero was Mikasa, like always. 

They all talked and shared laughs afterwards, Armin thanking them for their help and Mikasa and Eren saying it was no big deal; they were friends of course. 

They were friends again. Eren’s heart was feeling full once again. 

“Have you seen (Y/N)?” Eren blurted out, if everyone was fine and if this was his very real past, you were there too. You had to be there. 

“Hmm…” Armin hummed, “I passed them while they were on the way to the market with their mom. Maybe they’re still there?”

“Wanna go meet up with them?” Mikasa adds. 

Eren nodded as fast as he could, he wanted to see you more than anything, those four years away from you hurt more than anything. All the letters he wrote but couldn’t send out because he had a goal to focus on. How hurt you must have been to not be able to hear from him and die the same night you were supposed to reunite. How hurt he was to hear of your demise.

He remembers that night so clearly, he was only able to get a glimpse of you before overhearing from Connie and Armin that you were shot in the face right in front of Connie’s eyes after the mission was a half success. The ride home was Hell, that was his punishment.

He decided right in that alley that he would not let this happen again, he would stray from his intended path the way he thought you were going to. He would save and protect you from the cruelty of humanity.

“He seems so spaced out.” Armin said to Mikasa.

“I know, he’s been like this since I woke him up. Maybe he’s still tired.”

“I can hear you guys.” 

“Well, we have been waiting for you so we can meet up with (Y/N)!” Armin tugged on his sleeve.

“Right, right. Let’s go, who knows how long they’ll be there for.”  

Armin nodded and let Eren lead the way, he was so eager to reach you and see you once again for what felt like years. A moment away from you felt like he was back in the Paths, you could only imagine what the time after your death and Eren’s stay in Marley felt like. 

“So Eren, have you been alright?” Armin questioned him, Eren has been silent this entire time and only speaks a minimum of 10 words every few minutes. Eren has never been the silent type. The young boy always had an opinion or a comment to make, he never held back so it was odd to see him like this.

“Yes.” He replied without a second thought. 

But was he really fine? He was rightfully killed and suddenly he's ten years old meeting up with someone long gone. Someone innocent, someone who should have never been a soldier. 

“Uhuh.” Mikasa muttered. 

“Why wouldn’t I be fine?!” Eren raised his voice, there was the Eren they knew. The loud Eren, the Eren who didn’t care about who could hear him. 

“Because this is the only time you raised your voice at us or anyone in general.” Armin chuckled. 

“Well maybe my throat hurts and I didn’t wanna yell.” He whined. 

The pair rolled their eyes in response to that, letting him slide with it today because clearly something more was up but they just couldn’t tell what. Mikasa was gonna be sure to interrogate him so she and Armin can know later on .

“(Y/N)!” Armin shouted and rushed towards you, Mikasa following. They were so happy to see you, it may have only been a few days but you were a very good friend of the trio; they were always gonna be happy to see you. You were like a missing piece to the puzzle, you got along with all three of them so well. It made your parents so delighted considering you didn’t have many friends before them. Eren met you on the right day at the right time and now you have three amazing friends.

There stood Eren, watching you. You were alive, he couldn’t believe it. He wanted to cry right in front of you three but he didn’t allow himself. It almost felt like a reunion, the reunion he wanted when he came back from Marley but wasn’t allowed to have. Instead he was met with both your demise and his. 

“Eren?” Your voice snapped him back into reality, he really has to stop spacing out and processing everything in real time before you all make him see his dad about issues he can’t yet comprehend. 

“Hm?” He hummed. 

You let out a laugh at the sight of him trying to be aloof knowing he was far from it, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost and Mikasa and Armin agree you’ve been acting strange.”

He might as well have seen a ghost when he saw you, your cheeks flushed from walking around the long market for so long, your hair a slight mess from the wind, and your breathing were all indicators that you were alive and well. He still couldn’t have believed that he was staring and you and you were staring back at him. 

He pulls you in for a hug, exhaling a large amount of air past your shoulder as though he were holding his breath, he was gonna cry he felt it. The painful lump in his throat stuck in place, preventing his ability to talk. 

More memories came in, hitting him like a train. The grave, you never made it back home to receive the burial you wanted if you ever succumbed to the titans – but you succumbed to humanity instead, and the fact he never got to give you the life he promised you; even if you didn’t know it and it was impossible in the first place. 

Before everything fell apart in the first life he took a moment alone to visit your grave site, adorned with flowers and your name engraved in it, but unfortunately there was nothing under it, it felt like he wasn’t seeing you and just a decorated rock. And that broke his heart, yet he didn’t allow himself to cry. The same way he’s not letting himself cry right now.

“Are you okay… when have you ever hugged anyone?” You asked, starting to worry about your friend. 

Armin and Mikasa were watching in the background, they were confused. They knew him for a while now and never saw him really hug a friend that way, he hugged them of course but he hugged you like you were going to move out of Shiganshina and never visit or write to them ever again. It was odd and they desperately needed to find out what it is that's wrong with you. 

He suddenly realized what he did and backed off, he wasn’t nineteen anymore. He was ten again and he needed to start from the ground up. Nobody knew what he did in the future or what happened to everyone; however, this may be his second chance. He may not be able to prevent some of the terrible things from happening. Your death. 

“Ummm… wow I don’t know what to say Eren.” You laughed nervously, having never received such a close hug from somebody. But there’s a first time for everything, you would think to yourself. 

“Don’t say anything.” Eren said while he stared right into your eyes. He felt so embarrassed it almost – no it did piss him off, how could he just show so much vulnerability in public like that, the future is already in terrible hands. Once again. 

“Are you sick Eren you’re acting really strange today.” Mikasa said while she was beginning to press her hand on his forehead.

He swats her hand away, “I’m fine, you guys keep asking me and I’m fine! You know what, I’m going home!” He stomped in the opposite direction to you guys. 

Mikasa sighs and follows, “Wait up Eren.” 

You and Armin wave goodbyes and go the separate ways as well. 

“Mikasa, Eren! Wait!” You caught up to them, “I know you don’t wanna hear this Eren but please see if your dad can figure out what’s going on with you, you’re worrying us.”

That made his heart skip beats, that made his heart flutter, for a moment he thought it stopped completely and he was going to die again. 

Not only were you alive but you cared about his well being, he never saw the little things you did or said until it was too late but he saw it now. The way your eyes light up at the sight of your friends, the way you hugged him even though his hug was out of the ordinary, and the way you were still worried about his well being even though he’s acting like a brat right now. He will cherish you so much more than he did before, he was given a second chance for a reason, he’s gonna do this the right way.

He’s gonna protect you no matter what, nothing will stop him. He promises you that, with once again not telling you. It’s his little secret. 

He hears Mikasa sigh, “(Y/N)’s right… we really should tell your dad. You could have a fever and it's getting to you, you’ve been acting really strange today. That only happens when you’re sick.”

“I’m fine.” He grumbled, he was fine. It’s not like he didn’t die an hour ago but he’s fine. It’s not like he didn’t lose the love of his life last month and was away from them before that, it’s not like he has heavier burdens in this life due to his knowledge of the future. But he’s fine, he convinces himself. 

“You don’t seem fine.”

“Mikasa, can you just drop it.” 

“Fine.” She looks down on the ground, making sure she doesn’t trip on anything. 

Maybe he should tell his dad but is that even an option? His father can see the future but could he foresee this happening? He didn't even kill the Reiss family yet, he must not know what's going on. He wouldn’t know what to do but Eren wants someone to know, it’s actually a lot more stressful this time around to be so aware of the future than he last remembered. Being in charge of changing your fate is even more stressful for ten year old Eren, he was determined to find a way for your sake. 

“I wonder what that dream was about.” Mikasa said as an attempt to kill the silence. 

“It was sad that’s all that I remember.” Eren said looking straight ahead, he was actually excited to head home. He hasn’t seen the inside of his own home since… forever! He doesn’t remember much of the inside of his home but he was excited to refresh his fuzzy memories of the cozy place. He wonders what his mom made too. 

With enough thinking and nervous thinking about what he was gonna say to his mother or how to prevent a reaction, they made it to his beloved home in no time. 

It looked so warm, he thought. He was finally gonna see his mother, he was gonna see the woman he killed to achieve a goal. He was feeling a bunch of emotions, guilt, hurt, grief, and anger were some of the emotions he experienced.  

The closer he got to the house the more he got nervous. He was ready, he had to convince himself. 

The pair walked into the sight of Grisha packing up for his work trip and Carla preparing tonight's dinner that consisted of potatoes, carrots, and celery. 

“Oh hello Eren, hello Mikasa.” Carla smiled.

Eren’s stomach dropped upon seeing her, she had all the characteristics needed to show that she was alive and well. He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t hold back his tears. He wanted his mama more than anything right now. The future was scary, the life he led is even scarier, right now he needed the warmth of his mother more than anything. He was only ten after all. 

Eren collapses on the ground, tears flowing down his face. He couldn’t take it, seeing two– no three dead people in a day shocked him more than anything, his currently fragile heart couldn’t handle it. He believes he can stop your death but his moms? He doesn’t think he’s capable of stopping; the rumbling still needed to happen after all. This fact alone sent him further into tears. 

“Eren!?” Carla shouted as she ran towards him, Grisha following her as well.

No one has ever seen him like this, Carla is now worried sick about her sobbing boy’s well being too. 

“I’m sorry…” he wailed, “I’m so sorry mom.” Continuing to sob. 

When she first died was when he knew little to nothing about the situation he was about to find himself in so he was full of anger and never getting the chance to process it, he was too busy trying to fight for humanity and against it, there was no ounce of sadness in his heart for his mom the first time around. But now knowing she will die in a few days from now was the final thing to break him. He finally had room in his heart to grieve and his body was too small to know what to do with it. 

Carla pulled her close to him, causing him to sob even more. He hasn’t been hugged in years by his mother, he practically forgot the feeling. It all felt scarily new to him to feel his mothers warmth once again. 

Eren didn’t know how to explain himself so he continued to cry and shake his head ‘no’. Mikasa gathered a dry rag and some water for him to drink. Grisha standing there wondering what to do, no amount of medical school could prepare him for this. For fatherhood. He also knew what his own son was capable of doing, this current outburst took him by such surprise. 

“He’s been like this since he woke up from his nap,” Mikasa mentioned, “He almost started crying when he saw (Y/N).” Mikasa knew him like the back of her hand, while you may not have seen the tears and only noticed the silence, she knew it all. 

“How about you take another nap, love?” She said as she caressed the back of his head.

“No!!” He shook his head, he didn’t wanna step away from her again, he wanted to spend the last few days of life with her. He didn’t want to see her go, not when he just saw her again after all this time.

“You need to rest Eren, please listen to your mother.” Grisha butts in, “You need rest, you’re overwhelmed.”

“No no no!” He cried out again, he needs to stay here with her. He needs to be there for her remaining days. 

He began to cling onto Carla even more, his tiny arms around her neck and his overheating face buried into her shoulder. 

“Eren!” Carla shouted, there wasn’t anger in her voice however; she simply needed to get his attention somehow. 

He stopped screaming and crying to hear what she has to say, he may not have listened in his past life but he will now. This one time. 

“Eren… you need to rest, I will stay with you for a little bit but then I’d have to go because I have to make dinner. Would you like to have Mikasa stay with you afterwards?” She caressed the back of his head, as an attempt to remind her son he wasn’t in any danger, that he was safe and sound. 

“Okay.” He pouted, slightly embarrassed that he had an outburst like this. This was never like him but he couldn’t help himself. The grief was too much on his ten year old heart. 

“Perfect, Grisha my dear, do you think you could give Eren a quick check up to make sure he’s alright?” 

Grisha hummed and nodded his head, taking his equipment and heading to Erens room. 

.

“C’mon, let's get you checked out,” Carla pinched his cheeks and flashed him a smile, he wanted to cry again, he felt so whole and full of love, he wishes he could stay this way forever. Maybe Heaven was this, maybe Heaven was being a little boy again and seeing your friends and your precious mama. No titans, no war, this was true peace. 

“Okay…” He said as he let go of Carla, getting ready to follow her to his room. 

“And when I’m done, Mikasa and I can spend some time together while we prepare dinner!” She cheered. 

“Alright!” Mikasa smiled, she enjoyed spending time with Carla. After the loss of her parents, Carla and Grisha were the closest thing she had to parental figures. 

They finally made it to his room and he walked over to his bed with Carla following him and tucking him in, Grisha began to check his temperature. 

“Well… he’s not warm.” He stated, in other words: he’s perfectly fine and didn’t need medical attention.

“Better safe than sorry.” Carla said, kissing Eren on the forehead just to provide extra comfort and care. 

“Well I have to start heading out now so–” Eren cut him off. 

“Dad, I need to talk to you.” He said.

 Eren finally deciding to tell his father half of the truth. 

“Oh?” Grisha turned around.

Carla took that as her cue to leave, whatever it may be must be strictly between men she thought to herself.

He waited until Carla closed the door shut so he can surely speak with no listening ears or prying eyes around. 

“Well, she’s not here. What was it you wanted to talk about?” Grisha said, he chuckled to himself thinking about what it could be. Many possibilities were there, girls, Mikasa, you. Maybe he had a crush on one of you. 

Eren took a breath in for courage, he was already preparing himself to be told he was crazy. He was surely crazy but he was right. He knows what he saw and did. 

“Can you see the future?” He asked. 

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

[girlschasinggirls]

do you not realize that jews are indigenous to israel? there is both genetic and archaeological evidence. additionally the reason most jews who lived in europe simply can’t return (where they are not indigenous to anyways) is because their neighbors literally were robbing and raping and killing and turning them into the nazis and other armies that were trying to kill them. it wasn’t just the nazis killing them. and do you know the state of antisemitism in america? jews make up the majority of victims of hate crimes, more than any other minority group in the united states. the fbi releases statistics every year. israel is the only country where they are not subject to outright discrimination on the basis of ethnicity and religion. this is because jews are not white. they are from the levant. if palestinians are not white, and many are actually originally from even further north than israel/palestine (many common last names translate to “the (name of non-arab group formerly colonized by the arabs)), then neither are jews.

yes palestinians are also victims of colonization, by the arabs and british and turks, NOT by israel; who aside from india is the only successful state to have fully decolonized. this does not mean palestinians are treated entirely fairly, but part of this is due to the fact that palestine has an entirely separate government, and israel has fully withdrawn from gaza aside from continuing to provide water and electricity, something they are not required to do as a separate country. egypt does not provide these resources despite also having a blockade set up.

palestine was not peaceful for jews before the establishment of israel. look up any given city or town and the word “pogrom” and you will be met with the story of a systemic killing of jews in that municipality

I’m going to have to use a few examples to explain this.

Romani people are ethnically indigenous to northern India and are currently mostly dispersed thoughout Europe, they were also victims in the holocaust and they are also heavily discriminated against in all parts of the world they live especially in Europe. If, leading up to and after the holocaust a Romani person created a Zionist-like ideology of a Romani ethnostate. If after WWII, with the help of the British they mass immigrated back to northern India as refugees and were welcomed by the indigenous Indians already living there. Would it have been okay for them to then commit their own nakba and colonise a portion of northern India and rename it Romaniland or whatever the fuck?? Start expelling and murdering the Indians that had been living there for generations who also have an ethnic claim to the land? Packing 2 million of them in a 45km squared strip of land and do to them what Israelis are doing to Gazans? Having the fucking audacity to say it’s okay because “they were here first” 1000 years ago? While also somehow simultaneously claiming that there were no people there? “a people without land and a land without people” ??

Did you know that before Zionists settled on Palestine, they also considered Uganda and Argentina for their Zionist state?? The Zionist ideology is inherent to the existence of modern Israel and is the reason it was created, the racism, colonialism, apartheid and genocide is not the fault of a bad government but the foundation of the country itself. The Zionist ideology and genocidal intentions were already in place before they step foot in Palestine and could also be happening right now in Uganda or Argentina instead so don’t try to bullshit that “they were here first” because they would be doing this regardless of the location.

Palestinians are victims of Israeli colonisation as we can see with our own eyes right this moment and literally how dare you even say that. Also you know who else is killed and discriminated against everywhere in the world they go? Women, gay people, disabled people, Romani people, this wouldn’t justify any of these groups creating their own apartheid state anywhere in the world and start doing what Israelis are currently doing.

I want to make it clear that in the process of the Israeli state returning the land to Palestine and ceasing to exist, not one single person needs to be harmed or killed, a lot of them won’t even have to leave the country and can just live in Palestine, amongst Palestinian people of all religions including Jewish, as they did when they first arrived after WWII. If Romani people also wanted to move back to northern India without colonising it and creating an apartheid state this would also be completely okay fucking obviously. Modern Israel is not the Israel from the bible. Every piece of land on earth is already belonging to an existing country and you cannot create a new one without occupying another. Sucks but that’s the reality. Have a terrible day.

[bitricky]

stripping bisexuals of our tireless contributions to activism and reducing us to regressive binarists, devoid of anything to do with the broader gay or transgender communities and indistinguishable from your average cis hetero is such a cruel, twisted agenda. we marched with you, we lived with you, we loved you, we were you then, and today we are the same but you silence us.

the prevalent 60s and 70s idea of the bisexual, the gender-defying hedonist dressed in androgyny while engaging in sex with partners of all sorts is unfathomable to some, but there were those of us then and there are those of us now who are still very much the same. but we are also those who live next door to you and shop at the same grocery store, and perhaps you wouldn't know until you asked.

but we are just as likely adhere to androgyny as we are to look like someone who conforms strictly to gender norms, and so are you. the nature of having an orientation defined by same (homo) and other (hetero) gender attraction is itself non-binary, as you are no longer adhering to one or another. this made us fierce allies of those who are transgender, especially when (lesbian/bisexual) trans women and bisexual women were forced out of radical lesbian feminist spaces for the crime of proximity to the phallus.

transgender and early non-binary (the popular term being genderqueer) individuals came to our meetings and our groups, and many of them were us as well, and many are today. our quotes of love beyond gender are stamped across so many of our speeches, our art, our literature, and it is the core of the bisexual movement. our activism has had direct effects on positive treatment of all of the members of our community, because in few ways we could relate to a hetero experience, we were able to bridge the gap that many misunderstood.

but you'll make up any and every false reason to hate us. you'll use propaganda spread in the aids crisis to demonize us as promiscuous cheaters who take disease between partners. you will see the statistics of violence against us and it won't matter because we'll have deserved it, somehow. our suicide rates and poor mental health as well as physical health, the poverty and job discrimination, the way we're forced to walk without belonging because we walk an experience that casts doubt on the binary, and people don't want to face that.

if we have pride in being bisexual, it's twisted on us because we don't deserve it. we're told we have privilege over everyone else despite that being categorically untrue in almost every aspect. things are only worse for those of us who are bisexual and transgender, and for those who are bipoc (people of color are more likely to identify as bisexual than white people). but you hardly even believe that there even are transgender and non-binary bisexuals, even though more transgender people identify as bisexual than non-transgender people do.

there's simply no excuse for it. it is undeserved hate born out of fear in the aids crisis, or stoked by transphobic radical lesbian feminists, and the homophobic cishet population buys into it with sadistic glee because they don't care that we have opposite gender attraction, the problem will be that there is any same gender attraction at all. and while there may indeed be those in the bisexual community who subscribe to regressive beliefs, there hasn't ever been a point where this has been a staple or notable, and we are far from the only group with some flawed members.

there is no way logical way to paint us as binarist without discounting the majority opinion and the way have defined ourselves throughout our activist movements. we as bisexuals all have the potential to be attracted to people of the same and opposite genders of ourselves, whatever spectrum that may be in relation, and also binary men and women, cis or trans, it breaks the binary and it breaks the status quo. this is why many hate us, but it isn't going to stop us. believing non-bisexuals when they say we're backwards shows a distinct lack of knowledge of lgbt history as a whole.

it's all just extremely disappointing.

[feminismisstillahatemovement]

You guys think critiquing white people is attacking them. What nonsense. Also that race statistics photo is misleading. Not to mention those aren't hate crimes so its irrelevant.

The media doesn't like to talk about because it used to constantly be the other way. It's simple over correction.

Your name shows your mindset is immature

I really need to get around to turning off the anonymous option; my inbox has become a Mecca for the retarded.

"that race statistics photo is misleading."

How so?

"Not to mention those aren't hate crimes so its irrelevant."

How so?

The FBI crimes statistics displayed show you are more than 10 times as likely to be assaulted by a black person in America if you are white than be assaulted by a white person in America if you are black, even though black people are in the minority and only 13% of the population.

I personally can't even remember seeing any black person being assaulted by a white person in real life or on the interwebs, but I can't even glance at Twitter without seeing black people beating up white folks - it's so common today it's actually making me avoid looking at that website, because it's really disturbing and it's most days.

The person who sent this message is obviously delusional, and not really worth engaging with, but the scary thing is the entire mainstream media narrative is behind them, with all evidence against them, which is insane.

[inlocusmads]

kindness and other things you can expect from your boss ~ trystan x nora

The quarterly honour-your-employees day coincides with Nora's birthday. Everyone wants to be 'best detective/genius' giving Mafalda a long overdue headache. (crimes of passion)

wc: 1.3k, general audiences a/n: guys guys guys guys guys the incredible wonderful @stars-are-within-me (I'm literally at a loss for words) with the collective awesomeness of Thia from @oh-so-youre-a-nerd gave me this ABSOLUTE BEAUTY for Nora's birthday which is, well, right now!

I'm still processing this surprise and it's like - I have a lot of thoughts but they're all "ghjkfdfvgbhjkgfdsdfg" so I have no idea how to make sense of "dfghjkjhgfdvbnm" and a lot of pillow-screaming. Instead, I wrote a drabble!

***

“All right, all right, all right.” Mafalda snapped her fingers. “Clearly the idea is to not perpetuate unhealthy working environments.”

“She means you.” Ruby whispered to Nora.

“Hey, I am perfectly deserving of the plaque.”

“You have been competing for the plaque since the plaque was introduced.” Luke wielded his power of statistics. “And have won like a lot of times already, sit down.”

“It was three times, man. You had a five-quarter streak three years ago.”

“C’mon, go easy on him.” Ruby insisted.

“As if you didn’t get the award like fifteen times already.” Luke countered. “I am very proud of you by the way, but seriously babe. You earned boss’s favor ever since you cracked the Darcy Lever and the Sunlight Films conspiracy from thumb prints across beer glasses.” 

“It was a slow year for you, Nora.” Mafalda supplied, quickly subverting the topic. “Perhaps the award should go to, erm-,” - she scanned the room, “- the point is, everyone did well.”

“Are you saying my progress matters less because I happened to take care of myself much more in the last quarter leading up to today, and didn’t spend all that time worrying about work in a society that deems itself pro-hustle at the cost of everyone’s mental health?”

“Are you really playing the but-it’s-my-birthday card right now?” Mafalda crossed her arms, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, everyone enjoyed the burger combos on me, didn’t you all?”

Everyone turned their attention to Trystan who had his feet propped up on Nora’s desk, indulging in his first (that they knew of) greasy food exploit. “Mm” - he mumbled, taking quick bites of his cheeseburger. “Thish is one of the besh burgers I have ever had. We had a branch in Drakkos that closed ten years ago.” - he licked the sauce off his fingers before staring at the others who were staring at him. “What?”

“Just because it is your birthday that doesn’t mean you’re getting the plaque.” Ruby reasoned. “Right Mafalda?”

“I hate this.” she responded.

“See? Boss sees reason.”

“But c’mon -- it’s -- what is one more quarter? I just made a place for it on my wall.”

“Look, we all did really well these months.” Luke played the mediator. “Ruby’s faster forensic processing saved us a lot of time. I updated all of our databases so any new information is constantly added to pre-set dossiers. Nora’s gotten pretty good at -- filing, I guess and Trystan’s--”

“What? I did stuff. I did the--” Trystan snapped his fingers, trying to recollect something. “-- the thing.”

“You’re not being helpful.” Nora said.

“Good. I would hate to be of any help.” Trystan tossed a stray French fry in the air and caught it with his teeth. “The whole point of working as a private detective--”

“Consultant.” 

“As a private detective-slash-consultant--”

“Just a consultant.”

“And a consultant-- is that it is independent of the trivialities of a cubical-shaped office. No Employee of the Month, none of that.”

“You have never worked in an office.” Luke added quietly.

“The point is- they matter very less to me. I am all about the work. And the fun.” he tossed another fry into the air and caught it at the nick of time. “Mostly just the fun. All right, maybe it is all about the fun.”

“Too bad because the award would have gone to you.” 

A chorus of “What?”s erupted. Mafalda picked up the Best Detective/Genius Award from its permanent (now temporary) place on Nora’s desk and handed it over to him. The term was, well, outdated. They couldn’t have “Employee of the Month” considering everyone had unique job titles and it would be weird to equate forensic processing with on-foot investigations. The only thing they could somewhat compare was everyone’s role in a case and how much they were able to contribute towards faster getting-through-the-stack-of-files.

“Oh I love this!” Trystan read the plaque. 

“This doesn’t--” Nora started to protest, but quickly withdrew it. “I suppose he deserves it.”

“Not cool, boss, not cool at all.” Luke heckled. “It doesn’t make sense, how-”

“It makes perfect sense to me, Luke. Trystan has learned a lot in his time here, he has used his resources for the good of the job, he is a valuable person on the team - on many occasions risking his life especially with his status as a celebrity-- and well-” Mafalda shrugged. “He is good at what he does. It makes sense to encourage a new team player. And I would insist Nora to give it out. Pass on the plaque from the former winner to the current winner. Ensures teamsmanship in the -- I’m sorry, my Lia just started soccer-- the point is, before I go off on a tangent, please uh, clap. Thank you. Do not make me do this again.”

Except instead of the room erupting with scattered applause, confused murmurs and Luke’s rebuttals just after he had proclaimed everyone was deserving of the award, Trystan pulled open the music app to look up ‘royalty free award music’ and hit play. 

“No-- no you are not making it into a thing.”

“I am definitely making it into a thing.” Trystan threw Nora a smirk and unfolded a cardboard crown that the kind people at the burger place had given along with the food. When everyone threw him perplexed looks, he shrugged, “Only coronation I’d get to take part in my life.” and tossed his phone at Mafalda. “Take a picture for me?”

“No.”

“Please, boss?"

She didn't object further.

A good solid ten minutes went by with them figuring out the correct pose. Trystan wanted Nora to pose as if she’s handing him the plaque. Then he decided he no longer wanted a picture and insisted his boss press record instead. A few minutes went by because Mafalda had accidentally clicked on slo-mo and they had to rectify that and ensure the filters were all set right.

They also had to get the lighting correctly, so Ruby had to stand holding the curtain up at a certain angle so the natural sunlight could hit their faces right. Luke was tasked with fishing a coronation mantle out of the box of costumes in the back of the closet, but was only successful at finding a red bedsheet and a fur wrap-around, so that’d have to do.

Fifteen minutes later, with the royalty free coronation music playing its tenth loop, pictures were taken.

“You know what? I am amending it. Trystan shares the prize with Nora.” Mafalda decided out of the blue, because she loved being an agent of chaos like that.

Another chorus of ‘What? What?” ensued. A plot twist? An amendment to the sacred employee code? Can Mafalda (even though she is literally the boss) do that? Is she for real? Luke blamed what he called the ‘birthday bias’. He never got to share the medallion with Ruby on his birthday. It wasn’t fair. 

Ruby gave up on the lighting and was arguing with Mafalda over Nora’s five-win sweep. There were shouts to scrap the policy entirely. Some (Nora) argued on behalf of all the present January-born 33-year olds. Some (also Nora) advocated for the inherent sanctity of the all-or-nothing policy behind the ‘Best Detective/Genius’ award - “either one person gets it or nobody gets it! We are not doing halves!”

Forty five minutes later after fervent arguing, with Trystan’s phone charging in the background thanks to the battery draining after playing the royalty anthem a hundred times, the five of them were able to calm down and think rationally. 

Clearly Nora deserved the award as much as Trystan did - it was a slow, but rough year for both of them - and well, it was mostly just an incentive to get at least half the people to agree on something and piss the other half off, instead of going 25-75.

 Mafalda hated divide-and-conquer as much as the next guy, but hey, you could only turn thirty-three once.

***

A/N: Okay now I can scream.

DFGHJKFTGJHKJLJHDGFSDGHFJKLKJBNVCXDFSGRTYTULJNBMVNCBXVDSGRYRDSXCERVTYBFUNIHNYBTFVDRCXSCRVDTBFYGNUHIKYBJVTDHCSHRVDTBFYGNUHMIJ

This is honestly the most thoughtful thing and like, ugh Stars, how are you the nicest, most wonderful person to ever possibly walk this Earth? It brings me so much joy that you guys show so much love and support to the actual gremlins I write about. Thia, of course, I just -- I just am crying at the details - the funky rings on Trystan's fingers, Nora's scar, JUST THEM, like it's just it is the most touching feeling to like have a piece of fanart that just *gets* your gremlins - not only the bigger details, but the smaller ones that just makes it so incredibly special - I just -- I can't, I'm literally going to start crying again lmao.

Thank you THANK YOU so much for this, I might have to be the Devil and acquire ten million souls to like repay this thoughtful gesture, it is just EVERYTHING TO ME, OKAY? Now brb I'm just gonna continue crying, screaming, kicking my feet in the air and just being the most insufferable person offline about it.

ALSO Fun factoid nobody-asked-for: I was meant to write a Heist fic y'know as a homage to Brooklyn 99 and the "Detective/Genius" plaque but then it got too long and kind of went nowhere at the moment, so I was like "why not write something from mafalda's point of view" so here you go lmaoooo. But seriously, I love the B99 reference - literally one of my fav shows! This is just so sweet, I'm just going to keep screaming about this piece of fanart for like ever and ever

Tagging:

perma: @quixoticdreamer16 @tessa-liam @stars-are-within-me

crimes: @trappedinfanfiction @ao719 @cassie-thorne @peonierose @moominofthevalley @jerzwriter