For a community that’s based off people who have a strange interest (that we already get bullied for) - we do a lot of bullying ourselves. I mean come on guys, how many of y’all have had anti’s on your blog? Someone message you saying that whatever activity that is happening on your blog is messed up? Everyone around the tcc sees shit, but why do we need to pick on each other? We’re the only community we have. TBH if I went up to someone in another fandom and was like, “I think Eric Harris is kinda cool”, they’d look at me with pure shock and disbelief, y’all are doing that to your own community! Who cares if someone condones? (As long as they aren’t planning anything), who cares if someone visits the sites of crime activity? Who cares if someone thinks Dylan Klebold is attractive?! Why are we pushing away the people who understand us the most by judging them on what they do/think? If they’re not causing any physical or mental harm then why bother?
Don’t shit on someone who might condone
Don’t shit on someone who finds one of the criminals attractive
Don’t shit on someone who visits columbine/sandyhook/that church that Dylan roof shot up bcus I don’t remember the name of iiitt/etc.
Don’t shit on someone if they wear Natural Selection/Wrath/Humanity is overrated/Killer/Etc/ shirts to school, or at home. (Not gonna tell u what to do but like maybe not around the victims or any memorials ????)
Just don’t shit on our fellow members, we’re one tight knit community and we all have each other! Even if we disagree w/ someone doesn’t mean we need to bash them! Again we already get enough shit from everyone else!
Summary: Amy kind-of sort-of Dies, and everything falls apart.
So I think maybe by now I can list “inflicting emotional pain on Jacob Peralta” as a marketable skill? Anyway, I decided the best way to deal with exam stress was to pull out that horrifying old prompt that I believe @natashwarma once gave me into a legit fic. Never did I think something would be worst than single dad au, but well. I’m delivering a blanket apology with this thing pleasedon’tkillmeokaybye
Rosa, her fingers wound tightly
around the back of the plastic chairs in the meeting room and her voice short
and brooking no argument, actually opposes the whole idea at first.
So does Captain Holt, even if
he maybe isn’t as vocal about his objections as Rosa is.
“What?” she snaps, the first
time it’s brought up. “That’s insane.”
“Don’t be stupid,” she growls,
the second time it’s suggested. “We’ll figure out another way.”
The third time, she doesn’t
even bother with pleasantries.
She stands with her hands
curled up tightly at her sides, the outsides of her knuckles brushing against
the hems of her jacket sleeves, not completely sure why she’s so angry that
they’re even considering this and watching
as Amy talks in that eager, animated way of hers, explaining to Captain Holt
why there is literally no
other way they can pull the sting off.
On the one hand, Rosa gets it; Amy
doesn’t want to sacrifice a month’s worth of undercover work and intel. Work
and intel for Rosa’s case, the one the higher ups got tangled up with because
it bled into larger investigations and for Christ’s sake, Rosa was the one who suggested Amy for the job.
On the other hand –
Rosa watches as Holt agrees
with her; slowly, finally, convinced by Amy’s determined stubbornness and the
FBI agents’ voices of reason. Rosa watches, hands still curled at her sides and
the tightness of her chest threatening to spill through into her voice, because
this can’t – she won’t –
“Diaz?” Captain Holt’s voice is
calm – not quite gentle, she thinks,
and realizes that he knows if he tried gentle
with her right now she’d get angry, the tightness not just spilling through but
exploding, blazing. (He’s not wrong.) “It’s your call.”
Rosa swallows and pretends her
voice isn’t getting caught in her throat. “Fine. Whatever.”