Who Cares If I Want To Mentally Live In My Daydream Universe While I Physically Rot Away. That's My Business

“Agent Pike, meet Detective L/n” | Marcus Pike

Pairings: Marcus Pike X Detective! Reader.

Summary: The NYPD has-been busting their asses off with a drug case leading to a big underground cartel. Turns out they also steal very expensive art, and the FBI are sent to work with them.

Warnings: Angst, Cannon-typical violence.

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ghosts

—CHAPTER THREE: happy

pairing: Javier Peña x f! reader

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a/n: okay wow, this was at 3k when I promised it two weeks ago and now it’s 5.7k. just a slight continuity warning: this whole series is kind of a ‘fuck you’ to the narcos timeline bc I can’t remember when they were in Medellin or when Connie left and came back all relative to everything happening with Carrillo so don’t hate me, I’m going to make it work out I think

also just a general thought – to everyone who responded so well to the last two parts, your enthusiasm is what made me get this part done and edited, tell your fav authors you love them whenever you get the chance ! it makes a difference :)))

The day had been sort of a daze. 

By the time the sun had set gently behind the horizon, muting the sunlit sky into hues of lavender, you were already a few drinks deep, laying back on the front steps of the complex. Time was passing, the seconds turning to minutes, turning to hours, playing out so beautifully in the sky overhead with clouds and colors floating, changing with every breath, and you weren’t moving. You just couldn’t find the energy. 

Not to take a picture, not to flip through the diligently kept journal in your lap, not to do a damn thing but drink. It wasn’t a solution but at this point, it didn’t seem like it could do any more damage. 

The lavender grew darker. The soft orange of the streetlamps ignited up and down the length of the barely busy street. Windows that had previously welcomed the temperate afternoon breeze shut to the aching chill that blew in with the gradual fall of the blanket of dusk over the city. Glasses and bottles clinked with a cheer of ‘salud’ in the small restaurant down the street, couple’s arguments behind closed doors leaking into the street, the roar of a motorcycle’s engine being cut short as the chastising slap of a mother knocked the poor boy in the adjacent alley out of his confident bluff. All the little things. 

It was always the little things. 

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Doesn’t it make you feel bad to be so full of hate?

Like, don’t you see how you people give feminism a bad name?

I’m genuinely curious. I’m not trying to start an argument here, I’m just curious if you people know how.. hateful you people sound. If that’s even a good enough word to describe it.

You know whats hateful?

Hateful is when a ten year old girl gives birth to her uncle's child

Hateful is when a teenage girl is hooked up to a feeding tube, because everyone told her it would be better if she starved herself

hateful is a woman face covered, her eyes covered, her hands and her hips all all of her humanity hidden as if her existence were impure , hatred is prohibiting her from feeling the sun on her skin

hateful Is when men look for confirmed raped and murder victims to jerk off too

hateful is when the top search in pornhub is incest, pedophilia and rape, hateful is when men orgasm to women being choked, sodomized, while crying

hateful is the 80,000 women killed a year, for the crime of being women

hateful is b*tch c*nt and wh*re being the last things a girl hears before shes is brutally taken out of this world, hateful is laughing these words off as not a big deal

hateful is mutilating the genitals of a five year old girl, hateful is watching her squirm and cry while you cut her up, thinking about the feelings of the man who will rip her open

hateful is forcing a woman to give birth, hateful is turning a human being into an incubator, hateful is prohibiting women control over their own fucking organs, their own fucking lives.

hateful is rape.

hateful is women only having 'equality' and rights, in 8 countries. on earth, total. out of 195.

Hateful is making god, the creator male, hateful is making very system of belief around women as a resource, women as second to man, women as a birth giver and nothing else. hate is removing women from the divine and the powerful

hateful is male criminals in womens prisions, hateful is solving their rape with condoms, hateful is letting it go on, hateful is sacrificing women's safety for male egos, hateful is destroying rape shelters, hateful is defining women by front holes and uterus havers, hateful is mutilating them when they dont conform, hateful is young lesbians being groomed to sleep with men, lest they're bigoted. hateful is defining women as a sex doll, as a gender role, as femininity, as a personality.

hateful is menstrual huts, hateful is letting women die of hunger, poison and cold, hateful is saying menstrual blood makes them impure, inhuman. hateful is saying being a woman is karmic punishment.

hateful is driving needles up a baby girls skull, its drowning her in milk, its leaving her out for the wolves. hateful is seeing a girl be born as a curse, its killing her upon sight.

hateful is binding a seven year olds feet. breaking her bones, and smashing them together, its locking her up, never be able to walk or dance, will never be able to play, for men, for men to fuck her, for men to own and want her. an object, a status symbol.

Hateful is purchasing a womans body to use, as a toy as an object, hateful is seeing a young girl, starving, and putting your dick in her mouth, hateful is defending this, hateful is purchasing rape, hateful is advocating for it.

hateful is removing women from history, hateful is writing your name over their accomplishments, hateful is to ban them from reading from writing, from learning, from being human, hateful is never letting a woman touch the world, hateful is locking them up, never to be seen or heard

hateful is burning her at a stake, hateful is lobotomizing her, hateful is locking her up, its the straight jacket, the asylum.

hateful is cutting her open, is shaving down her bones, is injecting poison into her face, oil into her lips, inserting silicone into her body, its sucking out her fat with syringes. trimming her stomach, burning her skin.

hateful is demanding were nice. hateful is demanding that we smile. hateful is being annoyed we dont care about your fucking feelings while were being brutalized, hateful is pretending feminism has anything to do with 'looking good', hateful is coming here pretending youre innocent to ask why im not sucking your fucking dick while talking about the dehumanization of four billion human beings, souls, people. WOMEN.

you know whats not hateful? calling this shit out. I feel great, I felt the best I've ever felt being so 'hateful' about the hatred of women. I no longer look the other way, I no longer rack up my brain for explanations, and excuse, I no longer get caught up in the performance of being nice and giving feminism a good name and instead focus on getting shit DONE.

if you wanted nicer women, you shouldnt have fucking killed them. now shut the fuck up and stop pretending you ever gave a shit about women and feminism. people like you are happy to jerk off while the world burns as long as you 'look good' while doing it.

Die.

the long way around - chapter one

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader Rating: M Summary: When Teresa and Jane come into town on FBI business, Marcus panics and says you’re his girlfriend when Teresa suggests meeting up.  Word count: 2,413 Notes: I’ve had this idea for a while. It’s probably going to be three parts total with these idiots. Marcus’s middle name Miguel comes from the wonderful @ezrasbirdie​​. Reblogs appreciated ❤️ Warnings: Swearing, mutual pining, mutually unrequited, fake dating, idiots to lovers, kissing

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Urgent Care

A/N: Okay, so I wrote this loosely based on this post that @imagine-assembling-the-avengers reblogged a little over a month ago because I couldn’t help myself. I think it may have gotten a little out of hand, but I’m p happy with the way it’s turned out! I just hope you guys feel the same way lmao

Pairing: AvengersxReader

Word Count: 5185

Warnings: Slight angst?

“Margaret Carter?”

“Yes?” The woman lying on the hospital bed manages to rasp out. Her breathing is labored and she’s fighting to keep her eyes open. “Who…” She trails off, trying to catch her breath. “Who are you?”

“You don’t know me, but I know how to help you.”

She lets out a hoarse laugh. “How could you help me? I’m dying, dear. There’s nothing to be done.”

“There’s always something to be done.” I shake my head and step towards her. “I have… well, I have powers. I can restore you to the way you were in the forties; young, spry and healthy.”

“How is it that you have these powers?” She asks, wary of the newly presented information.

“I’m an Inhuman, Ms. Carter. When Terrigen mists were released in my city, I was lucky enough to have the necessary alien genes to form a chrysalis and develop powers. Now,” I place my hands on my hips. “Do you want my help or not?”

“Why do you want to help me?”

“Because your idiot godson and too-pretty-for-his-own-good ex are about to do something so stupid that it’ll destroy the balance between supers and civilians as we know it.”

Her eyes widen. “And how do you happen to know this?”

“Not illegally, I can promise you that. I just happen to have Inhuman informants on the inside.”

“Alright… but how do you expect to explain my sudden, miraculous transformation to the hospital staff?”

“Oh, the hospital won’t know. They’ll think you’ve died.”

“And how do you expect to pull that off?”

“Tetrodotoxin B, Ms. Carter. It slows the heart rate to one beat per minute. Dr. Banner is quite brilliant, regardless of whether or not his inventions work the way he intended them.”

“So, I’ll be dead, will I?”

“Legally, yes.”

“And when I wake, I’ll be young again. Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

She’s silent for a moment, staring at something directly in front of her. She purses her lips and turns back to me “Do it.”

“Cool,” I smirk and produce a syringe of the tetrodotoxin b and take a step closer to the woman on the bed. “I suggest you get comfortable. You’re gonna be out for a while.”

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Reblog if you think asexuality is a legitimate sexuality.

I'm trying to prove something.

Guilt (Part 1) (Din Djarin x ForceSensitive!Fem!Reader)

Slight Chpt 12 and 13 spoilers. Read at your own risk. 

Credit to gif owner. If it is you pls reach out so I can credit you properly.

Description: Moff Gideon has found someone else to run his experiments on and word gets back to Din. Will he take his son far away and try and find somewhere safe? Or will the guilt of an innocent being put in his son’s place eat away at him? (No Y/N or ___ used)

Word Count: Slightly over 4K

Warnings: Mentions of blood and needles. Broken glass. Fainting. Blood loss. Canon type violence. Possible bad writing (first fic pls go easy on me). If I’m missing anything please let me know, I’ve never done one of these before. 

A/N: This is my first fanfic I’ve written so it might be really bad but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head so here it is. I also made up a planet/system and don’t know if star wars has alarm clocks but i wrote it in anyway. I also wrote this in Word first and then realized I couldn’t copy it over so I tried my best to type it over in here. 

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If you're still doing marcus requests... do you think you could write something where he just broke up with Teresa and is preparing to go to DC, and the reader is his best friend, but she tries to muster up the courage to confess that she loves him before he goes? Thank you 💕

AHhh this is so cute! Thanks for requesting this! <3

Stay

Marcus Pike x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: tiny bit of angst followed by fluff!

Love is a funny thing. 

It’s a funny thing simply because it can be so many things at once. It can be a warm slow growing feeling that begins as butterflies in your tummy before eventually moving it’s way into your heart. It can be an all at once feeling that seems to blow you off your feet. It can be a comforting feeling that reminds you of home and all the wonderful things that come with it. But it can also be sad. It can make your heart ache and your fingertips tingle. It can make your stomach roll in anxiousness, and make your mind run wild with all the different outcomes. But most of all, love is a powerful thing, able to make even the strongest man crumble beneath the weight of it all. 

Which is what happened to your best friend. 

You watched as Marcus experienced everything that love is, before the woman of his affections snatched it away when she realized her true feelings lied in another. While you were there as he cried on your shoulder and held you tightly in his arms as his grief ran out of him like a river, you couldn’t help the small sense of relief that washed over you. You too have experienced what Love is, except it was for the man who had cried in your arms, for the man you knew you could never have because he only saw you as his friend. 

You too knew that Love can be sad. 

You witnessed the awful ache that spread it;s tendrils through your chest when he told you he was leaving. You felt the way your stomach seemed to turn in on itself as you stood outside his door, ready to lay everything before him, no matter the outcome. Because you also knew all the good that Love can be, and that outweighed the bad, tenfold. And if there was even the slightest chance that Marcus could return the love you held for him, then you had to take that leap of faith.

You stood outside of Marcus’s apartment, wringing your hands together nervously as you built up the courage to knock on his door. It had been several weeks since Teresa had broken things off with Marcus, broken his heart. And now, he is leaving for DC, having told you the news over one of your weekly movie nights with empty Chinese takeout containers lying on the coffee table. You had held back your tears, shielded your crumbling heart as you hugged him and wished him the best. Because that;s what friends are supposed to do right? Encourage each other to pursue what’s best for them and what they want to do. Yet, as you hugged him and he hugged you back, you were unaware of the other heart breaking right across from yours. 

Marcus didn’t want to leave you. In fact he had hoped you would reduce his plan, ask him to stay so he had a reason too. Because, unbeknownst to you, Marcus had only pursued Theresa because he never thought he could have you. He hadn’t realized this until later, after he had been talking to you one night after the break up. But it seems even you didn’t want him around enough to ask him to stay. So he made the arrangements to go to DC, hoping time away from everything would help him forget. 

Marcus was actually packing the last of his bags when you took a deep breath and knocked firmly on his door. You shifted from one foot to the other anxiously as you waited for him to answer, and you felt your heart rate speed up as you heard his footsteps nearing the door. When the lock clicked and the door was pulled open to reveal the face of the man you loved, you felt a small if somewhat nervous smile come to your face. 

“Hey Marcus,” you greet quietly.

He beams at you, holding the door open wider to guide you into the apartment, “Hey, I didn’t expect you to come by,” he says, closing the door behind you and shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks around the mostly empty apartment, “I’m not really in the best spot to entertain right now,” he jokes.

You shake your head and send him a small smile, “You know I don’t care Marcus,” you say, “I just came by too…” you trail off, unsure of how to segway into what you want to tell him, “I wanted to see you again before you left,” you say finally, eyes falling to the floor. 

His eyes soften at your words, as if he himself had forgotten that he's moving across the country. He shifts on his feet for a moment before finally speaking again, “Why do I feel like that’s not the only reason you came all the way across town?”

You feel tears well up in your eyes at his words. Ever the FBI agent, trained to notice all the little things. Before you can stop yourself you launch yourself into Marcus, wrapping your arms around his middle and burrowing your face in his chest. Your tears soaking through the white t-shirt he’s wearing.

“Please don’t go, Marcus,” you beg quietly, voice wet with tears, “I don’t know what I’m going to do if you go.”

 After his momentary shock at your sudden actions, Marcus wraps his arms around you tightly, resting his head atop your own, your name falling from his lip, “I’ve already made the transfer...and all of my things have been moved down there. I can’t just-”

“I love you.”

Your voice is barely a whisper as the words slip past your lips, but Marcus hears them, and you feel his entire body tense, but you don’t move from your position in his arms. Instead you pull him tighter to you, afraid if you let go he’ll run away.

“That’s what I came here to tell you,” you admit, “I’ve felt like this for a while now but never said anything because I didn’t want to ruin what we had, and then you and Theresa -”

You hadn’t even been able to finish your sentence before Marcus was pulling you away from him, cradling your face in his hands and crashing his lips to yours. It didn’t take you long to respond, your body melting into his, as your hands rested on his wrists. Your tears seem to flow harder now, mixing together where your lips meet as you are bombarded with an onslaught of mixed emotions. Your lips move against his naturally, as if you both had done this a million times despite this being your first kiss. Marcus pulls away slowly after a few moments, both of you desperate for air. His hands stay where they are, his thumbs wiping at the tears on your cheeks, as your own hands fall to his chest. 

“Marcus? W-what, why did you-”

“I love you too,” he rasps, resting his forehead against your own, “I didn’t realize it then, but I love you so much, and I only used my relationship with Theresa as a way to try and smother my feelings for you.”

You pull back from him slightly, his hands falling from your face to rest on your hips instead, “Why didn’t you say anything?” you whisper, confusion tugging at your brows. 

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Same reason you didn’t,” he says, “Because I’d rather have you as a best friend than not have you at all.”

You smile at his words, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment before looking up at him, “Well I hope after that kiss we can be more than best friends now.”

Marcus lets out a laugh and nods, “I think I can agree to that,” he says quietly, his demeanor turning sheepish before he speaks again.

“Stay the night?” he asks, pressing a short kiss to your lips, “Please?”

You smile and return the kiss quickly before nuzzling your head into his chest again, “Of course, Marcus. And I hope you’ll call and cancel that transfer tomorrow.”

Marcus smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his cheek against it once again, content to finally be holding you in his arms. 

 “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

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Marcus Pike Tag: @stanfordscrush

Y'all

People are actually fucking dying in Palestine and all over the world because of international negligence and U.S. aggression.

And you're having a meltdown over a celebrity you don't know? What the fuck is wrong with you?

You know what you should be angry about, my fellow U.S. Americans? The fact that your fucking tax dollars go to "foreign aid" to help Israel bomb the fuck out of Palestinian children and the fact that fucking Biden is not doing a goddamn fucking thing.

Why don't you give your local representatives a call and scream at them? God knows they fucking deserve it.