#police mention

[flowercrowncrip]

I reported the car that hit me the other day (my mum practically made me and I wanted to make sure it was logged just in case my chair stops working in the next few days or something) and I’m really annoyed at the response.

Apparently because an electric wheelchair counts as a “vehicle”, hitting me in my wheelchair doesn’t get treated the same as if they’d hit a pedestrian who didn’t use an electric wheelchair. So the police said that the only thing they’d done wrong was not giving me their insurance details.

I didn’t go in wanting to get anyone in trouble, I was more hoping they’d just record it somewhere, but the fact that I as a powerchair user don’t get the same protection as other pedestrians is absolutely infuriating

#ableism #police mention

[eyeballsoup7310]

I find it very interesting that people despise Vanessa for threatening Mike but I’ve not even seen a single person mention that Mike beat a man to filth in a mall fountain in front of the guys son.

Not to say mikes an inherently bad person for that, he has trauma and he reacted to something that triggered it— it’s just kind of telling that the entire fandom not only immediately forgave, but also never actually considered criticizing him for violently attacking a man in the first place, but a lot of people refuse to even imagine liking a woman because she was kind of mean to their favorite sad little blorbo due to her own trauma flaring up.

Edit cuz I thought about it again: obviously the dynamic is a little different in each situation. While both Vanessa and Mike were employed in positions of physical power at the time of their fuckups, Vanessa was specifically using her job as a threat whereas Mike didn’t even think about using his power as a guard. They both did something extremely shitty and rash, but if Vanessa weren’t an officer I don’t think people would care as much. Mike did something more comparable to, like, “getting into a drunken fistfight at dennys.”

On the flip side, threatening a man who’s Going Through It is super shitty and I don’t wanna dismiss that, but Mike still physically assaulted a man, and it’s weird to me that the fandom seems to have just forgotten. They’re fictional characters so I think trying to hold them to the exact same standards as real people is a bit weird to me (they’re meant to convey a story, not be a paragon of morality, unless of course the story they’re conveying is about morality but I’ll leave that conversation to people who have more than two braincells) but if we’re gonna criticize Vanessa I feel like we should also criticize Mike a little too

(I will still say, I don’t think Vanessa ever had any intent of trying to even legally challenge him ((i.e. arrest him or charge him or something)) and if she actually wanted to scare Mike she could’ve threatened to take Abby away, something that she previously refused to do in the “dumping shit in the river” scene. Also a stupid move, please don’t throw pills in the river, but it was the year 2000 and she was raised by William Goddamn Afton it makes sense she’s a bit of a dumbass sometimes)

Ultimately I don’t hold it against anyone if they dislike Vanessa because of this scene (or if they dislike Vanessa, especially for being a cop, in general), I guess I’m more so hung up about the fact that if she were a man, less people would hate her. Criticism of her as an officer is fine, we should be shitting on cops, some of it just feels like an excuse to be borderline misogynistic. I dunno, i tend to focus on stupid details. fnaf is a really weird series and an even weirder fandom. can everyone stop writing cops as protagonists please

#just talking #eyeball rants #five nights at Freddy’s #fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf movie spoilers #Vanessa afton #violence mention #police mention

[thisdastampdoesnotexist]

#gamzee #gamzee makara #karkat #karkat vantas #da stamps #deviantart stamps #stamp #hs #homestuck #eyestrain #police mention

[communistkenobi]

unintentionally funny thing about this episode is that as soon as bo katan and din are deputised by the planet’s ruling class to solve their “droid problem” they immediately escalate the conflict so much that it spills out into the streets and endangers the public for no reason. quintessential cop behaviour

#mando spoilers #police mention

[whumpshaped]

Epilogue – Dusk

there u go :) last chappy...

Dollhouse Masterlist

tw major character death, funeral, aftermath of trauma, paranoia, anxiety, police mention, hospital stay, murder mention, alcohol mention, implied past alcohol problems, implied past noncon, lady whump, implied eye gore, aftermath of surgery, past captivity, divorce, estranged family, again it's a lot i tried to get everything i'm sorry if i didn't

They weren’t supposed to be there that day. “It would be a small ceremony,” they’d told them, “it wouldn’t be appropriate. Or good for you.”

Dusk– no, he wasn’t Dusk anymore. He would never be called Dusk ever again. Diell wasted absolutely no time finding a way to be able to get out of the ward in time and take Ginger with him. They both agreed that just spoken accounts of the funeral wouldn’t be enough. They had to see the body be lowered into the goddamn hole and immediately deface the tombstone. 

He was fairly sure that Grace and Jonathan’s father played a role in them being able to sneak off as easily as they did. He would never thank the guy, not even in some weird, abstract way, but he was definitely pleased to know that he knew that any doll had more of a right to attend the ceremony than even family members.

They had to leave Pepper in the hospital, to all of their dismay. They were more hurt than the two of them, plus they wouldn’t have been able to see anything anyway. They asked for the most gruesomely detailed retelling of the funeral later, which both Diell and Ginger agreed to provide.

“I hope she’s cremated,” Ginger muttered on their way to the cemetery. “No, actually, I hope she’s not. I want to see that it’s her. If she was cremated, they could totally just put whatever in the urn, and no one would ever know.”

“Don’t even say that, holy shit.” The thought of Grace being alive in the world somewhere was a terrifying one. He had managed to kill her one time, and only because she was unconscious, but maybe that luck wouldn’t last a second round. “I’m sure they’ll bury the whole body. Like, intact. I bet it’ll be open-casket as well, with corpse make-up and all that shit.”

“Oh, she would never go six feet under without proper make-up. Never.”

Diell was the first to begin laughing, and Ginger followed soon after. The sounds of their joy felt wildly out of place at the enormous gates of the cemetery, but neither of them could find it in their soul to care. They saw people running around in pink instead of black, pink suits, pink dresses, pink ties to match. It was something out of an absurdist horror movie.

They ducked behind some gravestones when they caught a glimpse of the witch mother herself, their excitement suddenly giving way to fear. If Grace was that unhinged, that could only mean two things: either she had surpassed her mother in unhingedness, going on to become the supreme unhinged demon, or she’d learned everything from the even more unhinged woman who came before her. Diell held his breath, hoping with all his heart that it was the former. 

When he looked at Ginger’s face, he could tell that the same thoughts and fears were playing on her mind. Maybe this had been a bad idea, and maybe the hospital staff had been correct, and maybe it was embarrassing and weird to be hiding behind the markers of others’ final resting places. Diell glanced at the tombstone that was a couple inches away from his face, squinting to be able to read the name through all that moss. 

Sorry, Thomas and Esther Taylor. This is kind of an emergency.

“You think she even knows what we look like?” Ginger whispered.

“No idea. Maybe Grace showed her photos.”

“We should’ve planned further than two sweatshirts with hoods.”

“I’m happy that I even managed to snatch these up. Imagine if we had to come here in dresses or hospital gowns.”

Ginger shivered. “Yeah. Fuck that.”

They spent the entire ceremony huddled behind the headstones, listening to the priest go on about what a loving daughter and sister Grace was, occasionally peeking out to try and get a look at the body. Thankfully, not many people were attending, and Ginger turned to him with a triumphant smile soon enough.

“It’s her. It’s really her!”

“Fucking good. I hope the end to this whole shit isn’t some weird, Jesus-type resurrection.”

“Now you’re just being stupid,” she teased, but placed a dirty hand on top of his, her expression turning deathly serious. “If she moves a muscle, I’ll choke her right back to hell. Yeah?”

She meant it, Diell could tell. There was no condescension in her voice. She wasn’t telling him that he was too paranoid. She sounded exactly like someone who had thought about this before, in excruciating detail, and came to the conclusion that she was willing to risk her own life in exchange for the peace of mind that’d come with feeling Grace’s pulse disappear under her own hands. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly, giving her hand a squeeze.

They watched as the crowd started swarming towards the actual grave, and they followed them from a safe distance, pretending to be taking a leisurely walk or something. Diell didn’t even know what their cover story was, honestly. But no one ended up paying them any mind, instead focusing on the wailing mother. 

From what Diell could tell, there were no other people from Grace’s close family. Maybe her grandmother? It was hard to tell. It didn’t really matter. He was happy to know that her father decided to spend time with Jonathan in the hospital instead of coming to attend this pretentious display of wealth and ridiculousness. 

The casket was slowly lowered into the hole, and both Diell and Ginger were watching it like hawks. No tricks. No ghosts. No vampires, no zombies, no nothing. Grace’s body was dropped down and buried, so deep that there wasn’t a single chance that she could’ve crawled out. Her mother knelt on her grave, weeping like someone out of a tragedy, grabbing handfuls of dirt without a care in whether it’d ruin her expensive-looking, pink gloves.

Diell turned to his friend, briefly pretending he was gonna retch. Ginger had to hide a smile. 

They lingered until after everyone else had already left, only competing with Grace’s mother by that point. She had to eventually be escorted out by the police while she kicked and screamed, claiming that they were disrespecting a mother’s right to stay with her beloved, deceased daughter. Ginger rolled her eyes at the argument, finally sauntering over to the grave with Diell in tow. 

“So… that’s that,” he said. “She’s gone.”

“I really want to grab a hammer and fuck up the headstone.” Ginger looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes. “One of those big sledgehammers. I want to just… go at it. I want to fucking destroy it.”

“I know.” He carefully pulled her closer, slow enough to give her plenty of chances to push him away if she didn’t want to be touched. But instead of pushing him away, she wrapped her arms around him, sobbing into his chest.

“It’s so unfair. It’s so unfair. We were there for years, and she just gets to go out like this? And– and then she gets a fucking funeral? And some disgusting, liar priest kissing her ass? What did any of her victims get? The ones who didn’t make it? What did Belle get? Or Sunny? What did the ones I didn’t even know get? What– what the fuck is wrong with people?” 

He rubbed circles into her back as he listened, survivor’s guilt, sorrow, and the anguish of injustice eating away at him too. Ginger was right, and it was a horrible feeling to know that neither of them could do a thing to right Grace’s wrongs. They especially couldn’t force her to right them herself, now. She was out, just like that, enjoying her vacation in Barbie hell somewhere. 

Ginger took a while to calm down. When she did, Diell gently pushed her away by the shoulders, looking into her puffy, red eyes. “It’s over, Maya,” he whispered, a part of him still scared that he might’ve uttered the magic words too soon.

She couldn’t get a word out before she had to cover her mouth with both hands, attempting to muffle her whimpers. “You fucking asshole,” she choked out, and Diell was worried he might’ve genuinely messed up. “You waited ‘till I was somewhat okay, and then you spring that shit on me? Why are you even bringing up the weird shit I told you during– what’s wrong with you?” She half-heartedly punched his arm, then wiped at her face with the sleeve of her sweater. 

“I– I’m sorry, I–”

She hugged him again, with even more momentum this time, her frail body slamming into his with the power of a three-tonne truck. “I can’t believe you actually remembered something so stupid. You really– you safekept it for me… You really did…”

Diell hesitantly put his arms around her again, waiting for her to change her stance on this again. But she didn’t. The two of them just stood there, right on top of Grace’s grave, in an embrace so tight it probably cracked some ribs. 

They didn’t leave the cemetery until the next morning. They didn’t even sleep, – or at least never at the same time, – they just sat on a nearby bench, watching the pile of dirt for any anomalies or paranormal activity. Hell, they wouldn’t have been surprised if Grace’s mother showed up again with candles and chicken blood. When nothing like that happened, they crawled back to the hospital, allowing themselves to be yelled at and sent for an immediate shower and check-ups. 

-

Messed up. It was entirely messed up that it had already been a year. While Diell had been with Grace each day seemed too long, but they also just blurred together. On the day of his escape, he’d been informed that he’d spent fifteen months in that hellhole. He later counted; exactly 477 days. More than a year. He both thought it had been shorter and longer than that, and honestly, he had no idea what to feel about the actual number.

He knew he was the newest acquisition at the time. No other doll had been added to the collection after his kidnapping, which made him the… luckiest? His one year was absolutely nothing compared to what he’d heard the twins say. Eight years… More than eight, even.

Maya had a more difficult time counting, both mentally and from a memory standpoint. At first, she didn’t want to do anything with the data. Her first order of business was to make an appointment with a hairdresser and get rid of her naturally ginger hair, demanding a deep blue to forest green gradient. She’d come home that day to see Diell on the computer, obsessively counting and recounting his days spent in captivity, and she flipped her hair and told him to enjoy being out.

Later that day, Diell saw her checking the calendar app against old newspaper clippings. “I can’t remember when I was taken. Can’t remember the day. I… I even got the year wrong.” 

Diell couldn’t even imagine. She had counted and counted, eventually coming up with the final numbers: 5 years and seven months, or 67 months, or 2039 days. They had both stared at the numbers for a very long time.

“I’m so much older now,” she’d whispered. “I’m twenty-six now. I… I was celebrating my twentieth that year.”

That wasn’t the only thing she had to reconcile with. Her disappearance had turned out to be the last nail in the coffin of her parents’ crumbling marriage. After she’d been presumed dead, her mother filed for a divorce. Her childhood home had been sold, and her parents were both in another relationship now, ones she wanted nothing to do with. She didn’t even tell them she had come back, dismissing their calls and slamming the door in her mother's face when she tried to visit.

She was living with Diell instead, in an apartment the two of them had bought with the compensation money they’d been awarded. He was now sitting on the couch, bouncing his leg and trying not to think about tomorrow.

“I invited Tai,” Maya said as she entered the living room. “They said yes, like, immediately. They didn’t even give me the whole ‘Oh, I don’t know, do I wanna hang out with losers?’ talk. I think they're stressed out too.”

Pepper had thought long and hard about the name change situation. They wanted something absolutely deadly and dangerous, but also something that sounded cool. They had browsed a long list of venomous snakes for days, finally settling on Taipan. “If I’d had venom back then, aside from just… insults, then I would’ve been fine. Manifesting or whatever.”

“It's weird,” Diell muttered. “Like, the whole anniversary thing. Just weird. I don’t like it.”

Maya sat down next to him, sighing heavily. “You think the others are also this fucked up from it?”

Diell shrugged. “You think it’s fucked that I don’t even text them anymore?” he asked quietly, the ever-present guilt in his heart throbbing a little more as he said the words. This time, it was Maya who shrugged.

“I don’t either. So either we’re both fucked, or neither of us is.”

They sat there in silence, listening to the clock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Each second brought them closer to the dreaded day, increasing their anxiety tenfold. 

“Do you also have these… weird fears about it?” Maya whispered. “Like she’ll bust down the front door at midnight?”

“Yeah. Like, ‘haha, time’s up, you got to be free for a year, but now let’s get back to the–’ you know. Back to all that shit.”

Maya nodded without a word. She looked absolutely haunted, and if Diell had to guess, he probably looked similar. “It’s so stupid. I saw her be buried. It’s not like many people come back from the dead.”

“I know. I can’t logic it away either, though. So we’re just stuck with our weird paranoia.” He put his arm around her shoulders, gently pulling her closer. He’d learned early on that Maya would never ask to be comforted like that, but more often than not, she was very appreciative if someone made the decision for her. “But we have each other, right?”

“Yeah, Captain Cheesy.”

Taipan barged in with such force that both others jumped, flinching away from each other as if they’d been caught red-handed. “Stop doing that!” Diell snapped.

“Absolutely not!” They pointed in his vague direction with their cane. “How else would I prove that I’m still a menace?”

Their doll eyes were taken out almost immediately upon arriving at the hospital. Grace had done the sort of job on them that was expected of an amateur with no surgical knowledge or training, and the doctors worked tirelessly to reverse as much of the damage as possible. But before the operation even started, Taipan had been offered two routes they could go with their new prosthetics. Diell naively thought they’d jump on the opportunity to make it as natural as possible; he’d seen some absolutely amazing work on the wall of the private hospital’s ocularist.

Well… They were now rocking two pitch black orbs with realistic stars painted on them, looking like they held all the secrets of the universe behind them.

Maya laughed, jumping up to go and hug them. Diell watched the two of them with a smile, his fear-based irritation melting away. “I’m so glad you came, I need someone to back me up with the music choices.”

“I would never live with someone who refused to acknowledge that his taste is inferior and I should be the only one with party-music privileges.”

“I’m not gonna be bullied in my own home!” 

Maya stuck her tongue out at him; as did Tai, without even seeing that she was doing it too. Diell couldn’t stifle a grin. 

“Are we ordering pizza?” they asked as they walked over to the couch, plopping down right next to Diell. “There’s this new place that’s just opened, and I’m telling you, neither of you have ever seen cheese with a better pull quality. It’s glorious.”

“I mean, if they have Hawaiian–”

“You’re absolutely disgusting, Diell. I am stealing Maya away.”

Before more insults could’ve been thrown his way, Diell’s phone went off with a notification. Valerie’s name flashed on the screen, and he quickly checked the texts to see if it was something urgent. She probably wasn’t in the best headspace either.

By evening time, all four of them were sitting on the living room floor, eating pepperoni pizza off the coffee table. It was a weird little sleepover, with plenty of laughter and tears both. Sometimes they almost completely forgot about why they had even gathered together like this, and sometimes all they could talk about was Grace and their time spent in her pink little prison.

“When you can actually see, when you can actually get out and see the outside world, and know you’re not there– I imagine that’s different. I’m sure it was so different for Bora.” 

Maya was saying the words out loud, so Tai could also know what the conversation was about. Valerie had an easier time talking to them one on one; when a little group of them were together like this, it was easier to have someone translate as she signed. 

“But for me, all I had for the past years were sounds and scents. And touch. And Bora felt the same out here as he did back there. I just couldn’t stand it. He kept making me feel like I was still there.”

“Are you okay now, though? With us?” Diell asked, and Val nodded.

“Yeah.” She paused a little. “It’s different with everyone else. I don’t even understand how Bora could put aside his trauma to try and help me. It must’ve taken so much. Me leaving was the best decision for both of us, even if he was upset at the time.”

Diell glanced at Maya, wondering whether she felt the same way. Their ‘relationship’ at Grace’s place didn’t last more than maybe a couple months, and never went further than a kiss on the cheek or a peck on the lips. It wasn’t really comparable to what Val had talked about at the hospital. Still, he couldn’t help but hope he wasn’t going to lose his best friend.

“I fully get that. And you gotta put yourself first, right? That’s just how it is.” Tai felt around for another slice, and Diell quickly put one on their plate for them. “I’m sure he has plenty of people’s support from within Jonathan’s little group. And outside of that, too.”

“I’m sure as well.” Maya put a gentle hand on Val’s knee. “It’s not your responsibility to nurse others back to health when you’re still working on yourself. We’ve all been through a lot. You get out, you do the best you can– it’s all you can do.”

The conversations  fizzled out as they inched closer and closer to midnight. They were all either deathly still or fidgeting constantly, no inbetween. Diell and Maya were staring at the clock, giving quiet reminders of time’s passage. It was like the most fucked up New Year’s Eve party. 

“One minute.”

“Thirty seconds.”

“Twenty.”

“Ten.”

“Five.”

“Four.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

Diell held his breath, and with how quiet the room had gotten, he assumed everyone else did too. He thought about that day from exactly a year ago; stabbing Grace, the feeling of blood sticking to his hands, the sun’s blinding light outside, the sirens of the ambulance and police cars, the bumpy road leading to the hospital. The funeral. Jonathan taking in some of his friends, giving them all a second chance at life, the first of which his sister had taken away beforehand.

“Happy anniversary?” Tai tried, half-jokingly, breaking the spell.

“Well, I’m fucking happy,” Maya said confidently, and Diell knew he was the only one who saw the tears shining in her eyes as she did so. He pretended not to. 

Through the open windows, they could hear all the street noise; cars coming and going, groups of intoxicated teenagers having a fun time, dogs barking at nothing. The world didn’t end at midnight. Grace didn’t show up to take them all back. 

“Maybe we should go to sleep,” Diell suggested. “I’m– Okay, I know it’s not very popular with you two to admit to having a shit time, but I’m honestly exhausted from all that stupid anxiety.”

“Maybe we’ll start admitting to it in this new year.” Maya playfully shoved him a little. “Go to sleep, grandpa. We’ll keep it down.”

Diell smiled, then went to take a long, very hot shower after saying his good nights. It was comforting to be able to do it alone, even if he sometimes still felt Grace’s hands on his naked body, scrubbing him down without a care, like he wasn’t even human. He avoided looking in the mirror when he got out, knowing that all he would see in it this late at night were blonde strands of hair and soulless blue eyes. 

He didn’t fall asleep for a long time, still just lying there by the time Maya came to crawl into bed with him. He turned towards her, noting the distinct scent of alcohol. “Maya?”

She hummed. “What?” 

“You didn’t drink too much, did you?”

“No such thing as too much. Not on the anniversary of your kidnapper’s death.” 

He scooted a little closer, pulling her into a hug. “Yeah, there is. And I’m so happy you didn’t overshoot this time.”

A whole year had passed. Instead of Ginger, Maya was now crying in his arms. They had different problems, even if none of them felt less serious than the ones from before. She wasn’t passed out on the floor, only slurring her words a little.

It would be okay. It would all be okay, in the end.

~

taglist: @whumpsday @lonesome--hunter @reblogging-whump @panic-and-chaos @kim-poce @uwu-scraptrappy @mikaelaix @whumpinggrounds @hidden-dreamland @the-scrapegoat @whumplr-reader @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @whumpinthepot @devourerofcheesecake

#dollhouse #whump #whump writing #major character death #funeral #aftermath of trauma #paranoia #anxiety #police mention #hospital stay #murder mention #alcohol mention #implied past alcohol problems #implied past noncon #lady whump #implied eye gore #aftermath of surgery #past captivity #divorce #estranged family #recovery #comfort

[onlytiktoks]

#tiktok #tw police mention #acab #police misconduct #police mention #fuck the police #police #tw police #fuck 12 #1312 #tw murder #tw car accident #jaahnavi kandula #tw sexism #why do men #seattle #king county #washington state #Washington #justice for jaahnavi kandula #kevin Dave #fuck police

[whumperfultime]

Whumpril 2024 Day 1: Limp

So uh I've only ever shared my whump writing with like. Two other people in my entire life. And it's been years since I let people read anything I've written in general. So it's kind of a big leap for me to post this, but I wanna get out of my comfort zone a little and develop these OCs some more. @whumpril

Contains: Sprained ankle, limping, fleeing from law enforcement, brief mention of gunshots, a little platonic comfort at the end, female whumpee

~

Kalei had no idea how she managed to evade the police pursuing her.

The darkening woods around her were quiet aside from the chirping bugs and distant birdsong. No matter how hard she strained, she couldn’t hear any more footsteps crashing through the brush or shouted orders to surrender. Which was a miracle considering how close they had been when she tripped on that stupid tree root.

That stupid fucking tree root that left her with what she prayed was just a sprained ankle and not a fracture. Whatever was wrong, it hurt. And even worse, it kept her slow. Each leaping step forward on her left leg came with an awkward landing and pulse of pain on her right. She grimaced and whispered obscenities under her breath each time. Every low ditch or patch of thick foliage beckoned to her, practically inviting her to stop and hide so that she could rest and assess the damage.

Stopping wasn’t an option.

She had to get to Dace and Matago first.

The whole job had been a set-up, clearly orchestrated by Vanidor. Get an undercover officer to pose as the client, lure them out of the city and into a rural part of Garal, arrest them after they’ve delivered the stolen goods. It was convincing enough that Kalei felt safe making the delivery by herself. That at least might have thrown a wrench into Vanidor’s plan – he was probably counting on grabbing all three of them in the same place.

That’s the desperate hope she was clinging to, anyway. If there was another team targeting the others back at the ship, then she would be too late.

Another step forward. She landed wrong on the uneven terrain, stifling a pained whimper and failing to hold back her tears. Still, she kept going. There was no way to tell if Vanidor’s team knew where they’d landed the ship. If they did, she could only hope that her crewmates would be able to take off before getting captured.

A familiar golden glow became visible through the maze of trees: the interior light of the Azaphia’s cargo bay, guiding her home.

A bellowing voice came from somewhere behind her. “Police! Stop running and do not move!”

Kalei quickened her pace to the absolute maximum, not once taking her eyes off the light. The adrenaline flooding her system seemed to numb the pain and fuel her forward. The thinning trees revealed the outline of the ship, and then broke entirely, revealing the clearing where they had landed.

She almost collapsed in sheer relief when she spotted Dace already inside, standing at the control panel for the cargo bay’s entry ramp. He slammed his hand on the close button as Kalei forced herself to keep moving. She could still hear the officers behind her, closing the gap, as the Azaphia’s engines began to power on.

The ramp raised up from the ground and inched higher.

Kalei threw herself forward, her chest slamming against the platform’s edge as it ascended. Dace grabbed onto her arms and dragged her up before she could even begin to try to climbing it herself. The two clung to each other, losing their balance and falling to the floor as the ship lifted off.

The first gunshots rang out while the cargo bay’s entrance closed and locked.

Kalei let herself collapse altogether and tried to catch her breath. They weren’t technically safe yet, but she was too exhausted not to place her faith in Matago’s piloting skills.

Dace shifted beside her, pushing himself upright. “What happened?” he demanded.

“Trap,” was all she could say at first. A few deep breaths later, she added, “Vanidor set us up with an undercover operation.”

At the mention of the man’s name, Dace let out a frustrated sigh. “Fucking bastard…guess I’ll have to let Mat know we need to lay low for a while.” He paused, processing more of the situation. “You were limping out there…are you hurt?”

Kalei tried to wave him off, then grimaced as she registered the throbbing pain again. “Twisted my ankle. Just get me some ice.”

The movement of the ship stabilized as Matago got them to the right altitude to fly. Kalei moved to try and stand only for Dace to scoop her into his arms instead. The adrenaline rush gave way to relief, and she found herself laughing as he carried her towards the med bay.

“What’s so funny?” Dace asked.

“Vanidor’s elite federal police can’t even capture a lone woman with only one fully functioning leg.”

#my writing #ocs: the crew #whumpril2024 #whumprilday1 #leg injury #limping #on the run #police mention #comfort #female whumpee #i'm so good at tagging my reblogs WHY do i not know how to tag my own writing

[boimgfrog]

only good thing abt my terrible dad's side of the family being extremely well-known and held in positive regard by my community is that it makes me virtually untouchable by the law enforcement of the area. as soon as a cop sees my name in their system they're like oh? you're a [insert surname here]? which one of the [surname] boys is your dad? oh, [dad's name]? yeah, I know him. tell him I said hi for me, would you? and then I get off scott free. this is AWFUL from a social justice standpoint, but EXCELLENT for me because I love speeding.

#jay says a thing #and excellent for my boyfriend who is black/mexican in an EXTREMELY racist town #if hes ever in any trouble i can rest easy knowing i can go into the station and make a big fuss and he'll get out of it mostly okay #ive already had 2 use this card when we got pulled over recently i am not afraid to go balls 2 the walls w it #its insanely unfair that i have this privilege but while i have it i will fucking use it. mark my words. #cop mention #police mention #june dont look

[incorrect-monster-prom]

Damien: What seems to be the problem, officer?

Officer: …get out of my car.

#monster camp #monster prom #monster roadtrip #incorrect quotes #btflglitch #damien lavey #police mention

[haleigh-sloth]

I’m going to keep it real with you comparing cause I’m black but comparing mirko to a real life cops don’t sit right with me especially because a lot of black fans both men and women call her a black woman because it fun headcanon one of hori assistant used to draw mirko wearing Megan the stallion clothes and fans have shown her adding real world standard onto mha is dumb already cause then everyone be in jail including villains and as an American you do know we don’t like the police right

Sorry for the delay. I had to sit on this for a bit, because I didn't want to answer this on my gut reaction.

So--I understand you HC her that way, but that doesn't change what she is within this story:

Literally in chapter 1, the stage is set to show you what these heroes are.

Heroes are law enforcement officials, and an extension of the police. They are...basically cops. And Mirko is a hero! Which means, well, exactly what it sounds like.

She is this story's version of a cop.

This headcanon you’re mentioning doesn't....change that. Or have any effect on that. Hori's assistant drawing her dressed like Megan Thee Stallion doesn't change what she is within the context of this story. I'm sorry but it just doesn't.

America's problems doesn't have anything to do with calling a fictional character, who is a cop within the story she is a part of, a cop.

You are right--applying irl standards and rules to the trajectory of the manga isn't gonna get you answers you want. But, making these comparisons to reality is not doing that. It's how people connect to media, even if said media isn't directed at the audience they are a part of.

I'm linking to two really good posts at the bottom, but I'm gonna just touch on a point in them in my own response.

I think it's a bit ridiculous to assume that the author can't draw these comparisons on his own accord within his story. If there are points within the manga that allude to government-paid law enforcement officials in positions of power, abusing their power, then...maybe, just maybe, that is the author's intention for you to see it that way. Sometimes, it's not even really subtle and it's straight up in the dialogue exactly what type of irl issues this manga is pointing at (Spinner being a good example of this). So yeah, don't apply irl rules to the manga. But don't just tell people they can't make irl comparisons.

And with that, he chose to make Mirko a part of a certain aspect of the story, and make her The Way That She Is. She upholds a canonically oppressive system within the story. She is what she is. I don't control that.

And you can't just tell people not to draw these comparisons. Yeah, I'm American. And I only mention that because you pointed that out, and pointed out that you are also American. I bring attention to that part of your comment because.....it's possible, and likely, for people outside of our country to draw these comparisons themselves. Different countries, histories, types of discrimination, different circumstances within their own issues of police brutality. They all exist, everywhere. Not just here. Which means…you don’t have to have an American perspective to make this comparison to this type of issue. So again, bringing an American rapper into this to try to bolster the point that Mirko is free from criticism or gets to escape these comparisons, that are put there intentionally by the author, is not helpful. It doesn't work.

Mirko is who she is.

She became an extension of the police because she enjoys fighting and kicking people's asses. She is in a position of power, and she likes to use it. She is who she is, and nothing is going to change that. I didn’t make her that way. I didn’t write the story! I didn’t put the metaphors, allusions, symbolisms, etc. whatever, in this manga. They are there for me, and everyone else, to look at and think about, and try to figure out what the author is portraying with these characters in his story. And she’s a part of the story.

There are two really good discussions on this topic and others related to it are here: (Post 1; Post 2).

#bnha #boku no hero academia #anonymous #bnha asks #not tagging mirko #her fans are scary #tw police brutality #police brutality #police mention #ask me to tag

[fairymint]

not sure if it's worth it to declare semi-hiatus, but. I have been spacing off/freezing up due to ongoing domestic abuse/violence within my apt building- and I am fairly sure the male has declared a wish to stab me for calling the police, and somebody keeps trying my doorknob at random, so while they certainly can't get at me, my body won't calm down physically when that shit happens. so just, like, bear with me, my discord/IMs are available for plotting, and my physical energy is going up a lot since I have transportation now.

#ooc. #domestic abuse mention #ask to tag #if only because I know I've got like. a 'real' hiatus coming up and I am defo Trying to be here #police mention #knife mention #violence mention #for those that may be upset rest assured I'm fairly safe. been wearing leather and making good use of our new car #so my time in the hallway is usually mere seconds. between that and constant police visits. like i am not the only one calling #internally i wanna destroy™️and since i can't/shouldn't i end up blue screening. #legit just honestly considering playing something like Hollow Knight to get that tension out #...anyways bathtime like i said- #vent tw

[ollieofthebeholder]

Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, submitted, in progress, for your cat — whatever.

Nobody was looking over her shoulder on this one. No supervision, no guidelines, no partner. Basira wasn’t the only one who hadn’t come back to work after the Brodie case. Two officers who’d filled out their first Section Thirty-One forms were still out on medical leave, the mouse who’d been partnered with Altman had followed Basira’s lead and chucked the force over completely, and six more had quit with more…extreme prejudice, not including one officer who’d been collateral damage when his partner had driven their patrol car at top speed into a brick wall. There was a lot of noise being made in Parliament about policing shortages and better mental health care for the officers remaining, but that was all weak nonsense and didn’t do much to address the current issue, which was that the people they were pulling in were soft, weak-willed cowards who couldn’t stomach what had to be done. Sectioned officers were even scarcer than the regular ones and there wasn’t anyone to spare, so Daisy was on her own.

#sunday six #the project that tumblr enabled #tma fanfic #daisy tonner #police mention #suicide mention

[onlytiktoks]

#tiktok #tw police mention #fuck the police #tw police #acab1312 #tw car accident #acab #fuck 12 #police misconduct #police mention #st. louis #gay bar #lgbtqi community #lgbt pride #lgbtq #lgbtq community #lgbtqia