#Fix White Spots | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gingerhastoomanyobsessions · 10 months

Text

for a webbed site that claims to love rehabilitative justice tumblr sure has a love of vengeance huh. somehow we’ve created a digital atmosphere where literal murder is less bad than (checks notes) not emerging from the womb with a perfectly calibrated moral compass and the Correct Political Opinions

I’ve seen people on here say that, not only can people Not Change, but that people who try to change are a) lying b) manipulative and c) undeserving of the chance to change. besties…becoming a better person isn’t about whether or not you deserve to become a better person, it’s not even about becoming 100% perfect, it’s about doing damage control after you realize you fucked up. like yeah people you’ve hurt aren’t obligated to like you/forgive you/interact with you, but tumblrites seem to think that anyone who’s ever made a serious mistake should be exiled from society and/or guillotined. we’ve gone from reasonable and correct takes about how people change (ex. “it’s not my responsibility to teach you”— yes! of course it shouldn’t be up to underprivileged random people on the internet to educate the uninformed!) to utterly deranged ones (ex. “nobody with privilege will ever realize that they’re doing harm and the ones who claim to be in the process of learning are just virtue signaling and should be punished for it”— a take I’ve seen applied to men learning about feminism, cishets becoming allies, white people learning about antiracism, relatives of shooters who go on to advocate for gun control, etc)

you do realize that people can genuinely change for the better, right? I’ve seen my parents un-transphobia themselves firsthand, going from thinking that my sibling came out “for attention” to wholeheartedly believing in trans rights. my grandma’s father was every kind of asshole imaginable and she grew up indoctrinated, but as an adult she broke away from him and has spent the rest of her life working on unlearning stuff. my cousin grew up in the rural south and parroted his rural southern dad’s opinions until he was thirteen and started actually thinking for himself, at which point he did a total 180 and is now studying history with a focus on the evolution of the rights of the underprivileged

so when I see people on here say that people shouldn’t change because they don’t deserve to change it rubs me the wrong way. cause at that point it sounds like you’d rather have that person stay harmful so you can stay mad at them, instead of letting them change and gaining yourself an ally. again, you don’t need to interact with them, but. at this point it kind of feels like you care more about hating The Oppressors than about protecting The Oppressed.

#also for the love of god this is about politics not fandom.#TO BE CLEAR I do also believe in rehabilitative justice for literal murder whenever possible as well.#i think that the vast majority of humans would be ok people if not for circumstances #(ex indoctrination trauma desperation externalized-self-hatred ignorance etc)#and that rehabilitation/change isn’t about whether or not you ‘deserve it’ but about whether or not you’re making an effort #because either we punish people for ever and ever Or we gain allies. and one option is more tangibly beneficial than the other #standard disclaimer: I am white and therefore probably verbalizing some of this in a wrong or questionable way and/or have holes in my logi #because I have blind spots due to privilege. I know. Nobody’s obligated to tell me where they are or how to fix them #but I don’t hold it against you if you read this and think ‘yikes. (x) sentiment is kind of questionable’ and inform me if you so choose #so long as you don’t literally want me exiled and/or dead it’s chill. to be clear. calling people out/pointing out bias is one thing #calling for their head on a platter is another

21 notes · View notes

spooky-fm · 1 year

Text

Phantom Thief

Also known as the reveal fic that doesn't even mention the word 'ghost' until almost 20k words in. It is sufficiently traumatizing for everyone involved.

Ao3. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8.

Summary:

Danny Fenton flees his world and finds himself in the role of International Conman Neal Caffrey. He is actually pretty happy with his life, even with the whole 'convicted felon' thing. But of course Fruitloop of Fruitloops, Vlad Masters, has to go and spoil everything by tracking Danny down and demanding a match for the title of the Ghost King, like that is an actual thing that Danny can wager. And of course he manages to force him to out himself to his friends. Who are, coincidentally, FBI agents, including his literal handler.

In short, not a single person is having a good day.

Part 1. Neal Caffrey is missing ... again

Peter sighs in annoyance (and mild concern) when his eyes land on his CI's empty desk with its equally empty chair. Neal has been acting strange for days — coming in late, disappearing from the office for long lunches, and, as always, avoiding any questions about his problems. Peter is fairly certain that it's problems and not criminal plans that are causing Neal's abnormal behavior. Even at his most stressed and cornered, the conman has a certain air of anticipation and mischief that always settles around him when he is planning a heist.

But Neal Caffrey of the last week has tired eyes and a fake smile that he has not worn in the office in at least a year. He is tense and jumpy, flinching at loud sounds. Peter thinks that doors banging and men shouting are the worst offenders and his heart clenches a little at the implications. He has to remind himself that it might just be a coincidence, and that Neal is simply stressed, but he knows his instinct is very rarely wrong. Especially when it comes to Neal. Peter has gone against his gut before, falling back on investigator training and suspicion, and has been proven wrong every time, almost completely damaging his relationship with Neal in the process. It has taken them months to rebuild their trust in each other after the Nazi treasure fallout, but, Peter thinks, they are doing okay again.

He reads the words on the paper in front of him for the fifth time and fails to register their meaning. The mortgage fraud file would not be very interesting on a good day, but his worry for Neal has rendered him incapable of concentrating on the neat rows of numbers of Catherine Woolridge's expenses.

Peter's eyes drift towards the empty desk in the bullpen, then towards the clock on the wall of his office. It's almost half past nine, one hour and thirty minutes after Neal is supposed to arrive at the FBI building. Neal has never been late by more than thirty minutes before. Despite his flighty nature and casual disregard for rules, he is surprisingly punctual about meetings even if he does make sure to be 'fashionably late' every once in a while, claiming he needs to maintain his reputation.

Peter shakes his head to clear it and pulls out his phone. Neal still hasn't answered any of his texts, and the calls have all gone to voicemail. Peter is frowning at the phone in his hand with concern, already planning on driving up to June's to retrieve his wayward CI. Or at least to check on him, make sure he is not passed out in the bathroom or something.

The phone rings loudly with an incoming call, startling Peter so much he almost drops it. It keeps ringing while he checks the caller ID, and his chest tightens in worry when he sees the familiar extension of the marshals' office. He fumbles with the buttons and finally manages to answer the call.

Taking a deep breath he manages to answer with 'Peter Burke' in a voice that is much steadier than his hands or thoughts.

"Agent Burke, Neal Caffrey's tracker just went offline. Are you aware of his current location?"

The line is familiar — he's received dozens of calls like this, with how much Neal gets into trouble and tests his boundaries. For some reason, this time the words cause his heart to skip a beat. His stomach rolls with an uneasy feeling. He forces himself to respond in the negative, thanks the marshal on the other end of the line, and assures them that he will be coming to the last known location to investigate.

Peter isn't sure when exactly he stood up and moved to the door of his office, but as the phone beeps at the end of the call he is already halfway down the stairs and flagging down Jones and Diana on his way to the elevators. They fall into step with him a second later and he spares a moment to be a little proud of his team's cohesion.

His smile disappears when he is reminded why they are on the move. He waits until the elevator doors are closed — with no one else inside, thankfully — and fills them in on the situation.

"Caffrey's tracker went dark three minutes ago," Diana takes in a sharp breath, and Jones straightens, both looking worried and alert. "We are going to June's - that's the last known location."

"You don't think he's run," Diana makes it sound like a statement, but her eyes are uncertain, mirroring the fear tightly coiled in Peter's lungs.

"He's been acting weird," Jones interjects. "Like he's afraid of something." He looks down at the control panel display steadily shuffling through floor numbers and continues, "Blake yelled at the printer the other day and Neal almost jumped out of his shoes."

Peter nods.

"Which is why we are not starting a manhunt until we get some more intel. Hopefully, June and her staff will be able to tell us something or there will be clues in his rooms."

The elevator doors slide open with a ding!, and Peter marvels absentmindedly at his first uninterrupted descent from the twenty-first floor in the busy office building.

They make their way to their destination in silence, taking Peter's car. On the steps of June's mansion, Peter knocks and turns to look at his teammates.

"I have a bad feeling about this. Be careful."

The two nod seriously.

Seconds later they are let into the building by Maria, June's new maid, who seems a bit uneasy at the sight of them. Peter knows she comes from a complicated background and doesn't begrudge her apprehension at dealing with federal agents. He lets Diana stay back and question her about the morning and takes Jones upstairs to look through Neal's apartment.

They find it in light disarray, though obviously not from any break-in or even from a frantic search for something. It seems that Neal hasn't dusted in a while, and there are unwashed dishes in the sink and on the counters. The kitchen table holds scattered papers — sketches, paperwork, copies of files from their recent cases — along with empty wine bottles and another dirty plate that seems to be from the day's breakfast.

The rest of the apartment is similar. There are some clothes scattered on the chairs, books and random knick-knacks thrown haphazardly on the surfaces of furniture. The bed is unmade, the bathroom sink has hair sticking to its sides. All-in-all, a completely normal look for any other person's apartment, but with Neal Caffrey's compulsive need for tidiness and order in his living space it paints an alarming picture in Peter's mind.

Jones makes a sound of surprise in the kitchen, and Peter hurries back to join him. He has been taking a closer look at the papers on the dining table and is now staring at the sketches and quick watercolors that Peter has noted but didn't pay too much attention to. They look fresh, one of them even has a coffee stain that is maybe a day old at most, which is not a very solid piece of evidence when it concerns Neal Caffrey, Forger Extraordinaire, but Peter cannot imagine why he would need to fake something being newer instead of older, especially if it's just a pile of rough (for Neal) sketches.

Jones hums and throws him a quick glance. "I guess we were right about him worrying about something. At least he has an outlet that's better than punching things, unlike some people I know."

Peter spares a thought to agent Ruiz and his lips quirk up a bit in agreement. He focuses on the papers again, noting the deep pencil strokes, the paper torn in some places from the force of a line; the rough edges of the figures; the red, black, and toxic green colors dominating the pieces; the general mood of anger and fear that seems to radiate from them.

"Damn," he says quietly. Jones nods in agreement.

They put the papers down and move downstairs, where Diana is waiting for them at the door. After a hasty goodbye to Maria, the three of them take a moment to speak outside the car doors.

Peter goes first. "His apartment is messier than usual, aligning with what we've noticed about his recent mental state. No signs of forced entry, his wallet and hat are missing, presumably he took them with him and left of his own accord."

Jones scowls at that.

"I don't like how this looks, but my gut is telling me Caffrey didn't run, despite the evidence indicating the contrary. I don't want to sound like a couch psychologist, but he's been scared of something for days now, and those paintings and the state of his place just confirm that. He knows we have his back now, so he wouldn't just run off on his own without at least trying to reach out or leave a message."

Peter nods thoughtfully. "I agree, it doesn't seem like him, ironically. We haven't had any fights recently as well, or any disagreements really. There is no reason for him to not trust us. Something must have been seriously wrong for him to keep it to himself and disappear like that."

Diana, who looked curious at the mention of paintings, sobers up.

"I might have some answers to that from my talk with Maria," she speaks up. "According to her, an unknown man has been visiting Neal for about a week. White male, age anywhere between early 40s and late 60s, wearing expensive suits and a green cap with a big 'G' in a thin yellow circle."

Green Bay Packers, Peter's mind supplies. Wisconsin.

"Completely white hair and beard, but Maria says his skin was way too smooth for him to be any older than 45 at most. Possible medical condition or genetic predisposition to early gray hair. She says that he has been visiting at random hours and that Neal did not seem especially happy to see him."

She pauses to take a breath and then keeps going.

"Maria mentioned that he seemed to be very confident and charming, but she got an uncomfortable feeling from him. No specific reason, but she was careful to not be left alone with him."

Peter raises his eyebrows. That's not the kind of person Neal voluntarily associates with. If he truly was unhappy to see him, but couldn't find a way to get rid of him, this person could have had something on Neal. Or he could have been threatening someone the conman cares about. Neal normally isn't someone easily scared or intimidated into compliance. Even Keller and Adler didn't make him mope around for days on end.

"We should be careful if we have to engage with him. Did you get anything about this morning from her?" Peter asks with little hope.

"She didn't see Neal leave," Diana answers, "but she thinks she may have heard raised voices a little before seven. Then some weird noises like a big piece of cloth tearing and then a yell and a loud thud. But when she came up to check up on Neal, it was silent and there was no one in his rooms. She swears she checked them thoroughly."

Peter frowns in confusion. He is sure he is missing something, he just has to concentrate, and he'll figure it out...

"Did you manage to get the name of the visitor?" Jones asks while Peter is racking his brain for ideas.

"Vlad Masters, though it could be an alias. Apparently, he referred to Neal as 'Daniel' and 'Little Badger'," she wrinkles her nose at the nickname and Peter mentally agrees. He would normally tease Neal for such a cute moniker, but in the context it sounds more than a little creepy.

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts and figure out their next move. A tentative plan is already forming in his head.

"Diana, good job. I have a feeling that man is the key to Neal's disappearance. Let's figure out who he is. Jones, call the office and have Agent Blake look into the name Vlad Masters with that description, especially in Wisconsin and in connection to a younger male with the name Danny."

Diana and Jones look a bit confused at the last part of his orders, but Jones nods obediently and fishes out his phone.

"Diana," Peter continues, "go upstairs and look through the apartment. Look for anything Jones and I missed, especially anything that might have a connection to this Vlad Masters. I will talk to Maria about getting us onto the roof, in case they hid up there from her. Jones, once you are done with Blake, look around Neal's balcony. Check the walls for any signs of descent and the ground around it for disturbances."

"Got it, boss."

"Understood."

They will find Neal. They have to.

#DP x WC #Danny Phantom x White Collar #spooky stories #unnamed dpxwc reveal fic #if you spot a mistake i am happy to fix it #but be nice #phantom thief

23 notes · View notes