#so i have the information and i understand what it means
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argonautsoul · 2 days ago
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“Oh, to be able to be admired, cared for, loved, without needing to do any other thing than existing. No need to fight. Just to care, and nourish one and each other...”
Love isn’t something you feel, though. It’s something you do. And so,
loving someone is loving who they are.
When people feel that they are not understood, it frequently is due to not enough empathy going both ways...
[Text ID: “I would have preferred if you had loved me less and understood me more.”]
Here, one is actually saying: “I was in love with the fantasy relationship I wanted him/her to give me, but s/he wasn't offering me that; (I didn't like the way s/he was treating me)”.
Whatever you understand about your partner is your perspective. It is not what s/he really is. Whatever you attribute to your partner is in relation to you.
True love is based on accepting each other as they are... and you can't love something that you actually don't like... you can't love the other one if you don't actually enjoy the way s/he makes you feel.
Preferences are more about us than the other person, so first, try to give yourself what you are seeking from your date or partner.
Love isn't about trying to change someone to fit our idea of perfect.
What's more,
Forever, one can not fully understand the other one at all. This is the beauty of how they were created. Therefore, there is conflict between them.
Even within ourselves, there are/can be some deep-seated subconscious behaviours and beliefs that we don’t understand.
It is about accepting the whole person, even the parts you don't fully understand or agree with.
People's personalities change and grow over time. As you go through life together, you'll see new sides of each other. True love allows for that growth and accepts the ever-changing nature of your partner, even as their outer personality shifts. 
Any relationship is in a state of change, part of which is continuous knowledge of the other.
“Love isn’t a state of perfect caring. It is an active noun like struggle. To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly the way he or she is, right here and now.”
 — Fred Rogers
And hence, constant effort is needed to accept and adjust themselves to keep up with the changing lifestyles along the way with the changing society.
It takes time to grow together. And we want the maturity in a relationship that comes with time, the emotional connect that develops over years, that sense of belonging when we barely even know the other person... Apparently, nothing is worth our time, effort, and patience. Not even love. Relationships, however, require energy and participation.
Cognitive biases can be particularly damaging because they distort our perceptions and interpretations of our partners' actions and motives.
Cognitive bias is so difficult to acknowledge, understand, or be aware of within ourselves because we actively protect our beliefs. Sometimes, this means denying truth or new information that comes to us (a la cognitive dissonance).
In addition,
Depressed people don’t have the energy, and if they are caught up in the very common mode of isolation because of their depression they are definitely not participating... sometimes, there is an element of mental illness involved in this arena in general.
Lastly,
We don't really need an intellectual twin who can finish our sentences.
And that level of interconnection isn’t necessary. As long as they treat you appropriately, even if they don’t understand you completely, you can still have a very fulfilling relationship.
Love is a commitment, not about the mushy gushy feelings.
Let the commitment be the beginning of understanding. 
══════☸☸☸══════
Too often, in this culture, we cloud the picture, overanalyze, fear those conscious efforts, and insist that love means something very definable and ultimately acceptable — don’t get sucked into the madness, stay in your true path and please, please find a partner who is similar to you (i.e., hold similar values), who cares about your thoughts and feelings, and genuinely enjoys your company.
And read “The 5 Love Languages” by Gary Chapman. It’s eye-opening to realize that someone may be figuratively shouting their love from the rooftops — but you aren’t “hearing” it. Communication is key, as long as you understand your partner’s language.
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Margarita Karapanou, tr. by Karen Emmerich, from Rien ne va plus
[Text ID: “I would have preferred if you had loved me less and understood me more.”]
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venomous-qwille · 17 hours ago
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Hello!☀️
There's something I don't quite understand. So we're going to be friends with each of the robots? There will be some romantic lines here, I think?
Every time I think about it, I'm like: "What😮? Like, we're going to be with all of them? How is this even going to happen? Poor Cricket."
I just haven't seen any information about this anywhere 😿 But anyway, I don't care if we can just kiss everyone!
I mean I really like the whole idea, the concept and the story! I have no experience with all this, but it certainly requires psychological and physical effort, but you are great. Good luck!!
Short answer: As it says in the fic tags, you will smooch the robots :)
Gitm is just very slow burn (Cricket has only known the bots for a week!).
Long answer: Robots aren't humans, nothing about this fic will be textbook amatonormative. Some of characters will love loudly, some will love quietly. Some of the relationships will be more queerplatonic. Some will be deeply romantic. Gitm is more like... Here is your new found family, Cricket, and you're all going to kiss about it.
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duyuforu · 1 day ago
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Pick-a-Card: What is next in Love?
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Pile 1 - ₊˚⊹♡
Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself
Pile 1, hi! I want to warn that your reading is a little heavy. I got a pretty strong message so please really take what resonates, and mostly trust yourself and your guts. Cards are saying you could have searched for a lot of seriousness in your relationships lately, perhaps wanting to settle down, you may also be serious about a certain person right now, or you are with someone and you desire to see it run far away and for a long time. You want to have long term plans with someone at least. But perhaps you either haven't found the one yet, you may have been very disappointed lately, particularly in romance or because of potential lovers, and you may feel lonely, or like you'll never find what you are looking for. You could have felt betrayed before, or you are currently feeling this way. I see strongly it didn't workout with someone, and perhaps it looks like a failure or a disappointment, yet cards are saying it's something good, you'll soon realize your luck to not be involved longer with this person.
What is next in love is that you may realize soon those failures and disappointments were to teach you a certain lesson. If you recently have felt betrayed because of someone in your romantic area, you'll soon understand why, you'll have the truth, a light. You'll also see the situation from a different point of view. You'll feel like instead of losing someone or something, you actually won. You'll see the good side of it. Though, you need to also remember that in order to attract new things, you often need to get rid of what is currently wrong in your life. You'll learn this valuable lesson, and you'll want to indeed change, get rid of what doesn't serve you anymore. Cards are also telling me someone new will come into your life soon, someone with whom it would be possible to start a new story with, someone who also wants a long term and serious partnership...
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.
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Pile 2 - ₊˚⊹♡
Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself
Pile 2! Welcome to your reading. Well, this looks pretty good for you. I see that what is next in love for you is that you may encounter someone, a romantic interaction. If you already have someone, please take as it resonates, but I see a lot of flirting, exciting moments coming. You'll message or perhaps already messaging someone, you'll text a lot, call a lot, perhaps also spend a lot of time together, dating, etc. You could feel feelings for this person, you'll feel like your heart is bumping already. You could feel safe with this person, you can feel like you can trust them. But perhaps you'll feel like things are moving too fast, you could also feel a little scared, anxious since you can have the sensation things are too beautiful to be true. Cards are saying perhaps due to past traumas or bad experiences, this is a normal situation and a normal reaction. But perhaps it's time to let go of those, I do not see any bad vibes from this person at least. You could feel on defensive mode sometimes because of them. Yet, you will not need to worry for your heart.
At least, you'll realize that eventually, that indeed, you can trust this person. Yet, once you do and relax more, things could unfold quite fast after. I see a lot of fun times and sensuality, so perhaps if you are in age to do so, you could have more steamy times, and a lot of more hot moments with this person. Things can get more passionate and more physical at least. Though, do not be scared. If it does go far, this will not go without a more serious engagement. I do see some steamy moments coming, yet stability and seriousness go with it. You'll perhaps have this person asking you to be more serious with them as well. It can seem to be a little scary, but at least, I'll tell you, this person sees very serious future with you! Good luck!
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.
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Pile 3 - ₊˚⊹♡
Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself
Pile 3, hi! So, you could be on your own right now, single, and that you may want something coming or not, you could actually be more going with the flow, focusing on you, your life, etc. You could also want to know yourself better, perhaps also love yourself more, work more on it, you could also want to appreciate just being with yourself more. You could think again of your desires for a relationship, what you truly want. Yet you could actually come to a conclusion. You could realize something with this thinking. You could realize what you truly want. Yet, if there is someone you already have feelings for, someone who has long departed from your life, or someone you may have not realized you have feelings for yet, this may be a good time for it. You could realize it's okay to feel sad about your love life, but you could also realize it's okay to miss that person. You may accept you are still connected to them, that you still love them, and that the love for them is different from all the other people you loved before.
This is a very specific message, so really if it does not, change your pile :) But cards are saying you may reflect on your past mistakes, perhaps even realizing and thinking of what failed before. You could realize you may have met the one for you before, you may already know them, or you may have a strong desire to reunite with someone specific, perhaps from the past. You can realize you haven't forgotten about them at all, perhaps even if you have tried to move on from them. You love them, very much. You may accept those feelings. Though I also want to add, something may happen with this person. They may also come back, or someone may express their love to you somehow, perhaps you'll have a good surprise. But this could also be a way you'll see you have feelings for them too.
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.
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Pile 4 - ₊˚⊹♡
Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself
Pile 4, welcome to your reading! Pile 4 you could be currently single right now, you could also feel quite good, happy with your current life situation, at least, when it comes to your romance. You could go with the flow. Yet, something may happen soon to you in love, and you could have full influence on it. A person from the past may come back, someone with whom you thought it was over with, someone you thought forgot about you, someone you have felt like you had a strong connection with. A revival could happen. You may have thought this person and you had a strong thing going on, perhaps you thought you were soulmates, twin flames, or anything else like this, your souls had a link. You could have felt like something failed between you two in the past, that you dates or not. This person could have hurt you with their actions, and you could feel like you need to be carful with them now, at least you'll want to be careful because you do not want this to happen again.
This person seems to want to come back with good intentions, they feel the link between you two as well. They want to speak with you, be in contact with you again because it may be harder for them to be far from you, or to be in no contact. They want to reconnect, explain themselves. They want to make you see they do not want to hurt you anymore, and they have truly changed. They see you as someone they hold dearly in their heart. They have indeed become more mature than before. You could want to be careful, take your time with them, little by little to be sure it's true and that they are not lying. This person is in love for sure tho, and with you. They want to offer you their cup. They have good intentions, they want to settle down with you. What is next in love as a key word is "hope". You'll choose, but you'll need to go slowly, to reassure yourself. Good luck!
Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.
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ohtobeleah · 2 days ago
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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin
-> Chapter Thirteen: [Panic Room]
Summary: Jakes darkest fears come to fruition when surgery doesn’t go as planned and the months to come bring a new reality he never saw coming.
Warnings: MAIN CHARACTER DEATH Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion.
Word Count: 5.5k
Author Note: A big show of appreciation and love to @a-reader-and-a-writer (Vee) for constantly being ready and willing to help me with my writing. You have been the backbone I needed to get this done!
You guys will never know how much this series means to me. And in the same breath, you guys will never know how much your support truly means. Merry Christmas Eve Eve 2024 ya filthy animals.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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Researchers say the average length of a dream is two to three minutes long. But many people experience their dreams as hours, days, or even years if they can remember them at all. 
The science of dreaming has been questioned for hundreds of years. Some hypothesise that dreams are our way of processing real events that occur when we’re awake. They also serve as an outlet for repressed hopes and desires. Neuroscientists introduce a new theory every few years. But honestly, no one knows why we dream. 
Or why we have nightmares. We just hope that after the dream, we wake up. 
“We’ve gone over all the risks, weighed up all the possible outcomes, dotted I’s and crossed T’s. Today is the day, Mrs. Seresin.” Doctor Morrison was hopeful in his consultation. The white coat-wearing man reassured you as he placed your chart back where it belonged. “How are you feeling?” 
The question went unanswered for a moment or two. You felt like you were in a state of shock. Unable to truly express how you felt just hours before going into what could be life-changing surgery. You were giving everyone in the room a thousand-yard stare. Mentally and physically, you had checked out. Like you’d been stuck in a nightmare that wouldn’t stop torturing you. 
“We had some bad news last night. A close friend passed away unexpectedly,” Jake answered on your behalf. “Is there any way–” 
“We need to do this now, Mr. Seresin, or we won’t be able to revisit this for a few months,” Dr. Morrison explained with an emphasis on the matter of now or never. “I understand personal circumstances may have changed. However, knowing everything you know about risk and recovery and survival rates after double mastectomies, I recommend we stick to the organised care plan.” 
“Can we have a moment alone?” Jake asked cautiously as his hand came to rest gently on your shoulder. You hadn’t moved from what could only be described as a catatonic-like state for the entire duration of the conversation. 
“Of course,” Dr. Morrison nodded. “I’ll come back after I’ve checked in on a few patients.” 
It didn’t take long at all for the oncology crew to exit the room. But the second they did, you felt like you could breathe again. 
“I can’t go through with this surgery Jake,” you begged. Fear of the unknown had taken over your entire being. “I can’t do this,” 
“You are the strongest person I know, honey, the kids and I really need you to do this.” Jake tried his best to comfort you as well as remind you why this surgery was so important. “We need you, yeah? We need you to stick around and this fucking cancer, this disease, is trying to cut that time short.” 
“But Jensen–” 
At the height of the Great Depression, Harvard scientists started tracking students in hopes of discovering the key to a long and happy life. They looked at participants’ mental and physical health over seventy-five years. It’s the longest study of happiness to date. Seventy-five years and all they did was confirm what we’ve known since the beginning of time. 
The most powerful predictor of health and happiness is the quality of our relationships. 
Strong relationships protect us. Loneliness on the other hand…can be deadly. 
“Would want you to keep fighting and have this surgery.” Jake could have said he thought Jensen was a coward. He could have said how angry he was at that fucker for leaving you alone in this world with no one to confide in who knew the struggle, who knew the feeling of being told you’re sick and need to get sicker in order to get better. 
Jake could have told you how he wished Jensen had survived so he could kill him himself. Jake could have responded with the fact Jensen was terminal and there was nothing on this earth that could have saved him from his illness. 
Jake could have told you that Jensen thought you hung the stars and the moon in the night sky every night just for him…but then Jake would also have to admit to himself and you that maybe, just maybe, you should have moved on. 
“What would he say right now if he was here?” Jake settled on that question just to keep himself sane. He didn’t want to open yet another can of worms right before your surgery. This was all one big giant nightmare already, he didn’t want to make it worse. If anything, Jake kept pinching himself in secret just hoping that maybe he’d wake up on the couch and this cancer saga would all be some sadistic subconscious dream of his. 
He’d always been deathly afraid of not being good enough for you. 
“He’d tell me to do it,” you sighed as you let your head rest against the upright bed. “He’d tell me to be strategic about the battle, the war is the endgame.” 
“Exactly, one battle at a time, step by step,” Jake agreed with a cheeky smile. That signature Seresin smile you so effortlessly loved. “You’re not gonna hand in the white flag before the battles even really begins, are you?” 
“Kinda want to if I’m being completely honest with you,” you responded knowing Jake would appreciate the honesty. “But I guess you and the kids really need me to stick around, huh?” 
“Oh, I can’t even begin to explain how much we need you to stick around, honeybee.” it was as honest and as sincere as Jake could be. He wore his heart on his sleeve for you. He exposed every nerve he had just so you could dance your feather-like fingers across the tender strings that made Jake, Jake. 
“I’m so scared of being alone in the operating room,” you admitted as Jake leaned in to leave a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I’m so scared they won’t see me as a person,” It was an explanation that broke Jake’s heart even though he believed his heart couldn’t be broken any more. “That they won’t remember I’m me, that I have a life and a family and people who will miss me.” 
Over the course of our lives, our relationships ebb and flow. We get together, break up, move away, or fall out of touch. It’s prolonged periods of loneliness and toxicity that wreak havoc on our health, our brain function, and our longevity. 
“You’re never alone,” Jake replied softly as tears threatened to spill over his waterline. “I’m always with you, the kids are always with you, Jensen, your mum, everyone will be with you during that surgery, we’re gonna be waiting on the other side.” 
“I love you so much, Jake Seresin,” you smiled brightly through a tight-lipped smile Jake wished he could save in his mind’s eye forever. “Let’s win this battle.” 
“And the war too,” Jake replied as he reached for your hand, gave it a soft squeeze, and brought your palm to his lips. “Let’s fucking do this, Y/n.” 
*************************************
Jake sat waiting by the vending machine as he picked at the small single service-sized packet of original Lays he’d nearly had to beg the machine to drop. His watch told him it was almost nearing the end of your surgery. He wasn't stressed, not when your surgeon had been so hopeful and calming. Jake had spent far too much of his time recently worrying about the what-ifs. He wanted to focus on the now. And that now was the fact you would have been nearing the end of your surgery. Which meant soon enough he’d get to see you again. 
The only thing that kept Jake on his toes was the ever-looming doubt that perhaps the treatment plan wouldn't be enough. He hoped that you had enough fight in you to make it through the journey. He needed you to have enough strength to fight. 
“She should be coming out of surgery soon–” Jake explained as he held his phone up to his ear and tried not to chew so loud. “The kids know that Rooster is picking them up to bring them home to Grandma Maz’s house?” 
“Yeah, Mum’s not too happy about it but she won't keal over about it,” Jasmine replied as she watched her brother's kids play with hers in the backyard she and Jake used to make mud pies in. “Rooster messaged about an hour ago saying he was close, he shouldn't be too far away now.” Jas continued in her own little world. Jake was used to not being able to get a word in with his youngest sister. “I can't believe Y/n has fucking cancer–does her side of the family have a history or…?” 
“Not that we know of, it's just really bad luck, Jas,” Jake sighed as he let his head fall back against the wall his chair was pressed up against. “But hopefully with this surgery and the chemo, she’ll be able to beat it.” 
“Well, you tell her that I’m pissed she gets a boob job before I do,” Jasmine tried her best to keep the situation as light-hearted as possible. “Make sure she gets a good rack, not too small or too big, like a good handful that's just right.” 
“I'll be sure to let her know,” Jake smiled, he really could count on his sister for that. “Oh, I gotta go, I see Y/n’s surgeon.” Jake sat up in anticipation as anxiety flooded his nervous system. “Tell the kids we love them for me.” 
“Have been every day,” Jasmine replied quickly knowing her brother probably had his phone down from his ear by now. “Bye.” 
Jake was quick to pocket his phone and wipe the crumbs from his shirt as he stood to greet your surgeon. However, something seemed off about the man who had seemed so confident before your surgery. 
“Mr. Seresin–” 
“How is she?” Jake asked. He didn't mean to interrupt, but he needed to know first and foremost before any medical mumbo jumbo. “My wife, how’d the surgery go?” 
There was a very telling pause that accompanied the sober look that Doctor Morrison wore, but Jake tried not to read into it all that much. He knew you would be fine. 
Right? 
“Mr Seresin, your wife's heart was weakened by the stress of her recent stroke,” Doctor Morrison began to explain as Jake stood there expecting good news. “She, unfortunately, went into a cardiac arrest–” the air around Jake disappeared. Almost instantly, he felt as if he were floating in space. “We tried to revive her for the better half of twenty minutes while she was on the table,” There was a pause. A telling moment where reality and fantasy were trying to battle it out. Who’s version of events would win? When Doctor Morrison saw Jake’s mind short-circling with an inability to process the magnitude of information, he felt as if he needed to continue explaining the severity of the situation. 
“It was catastrophic, and I'm afraid we've lost her.” Doctor Morrison had told far too many loved ones over the years that they had lost family members, but never in all his years had he ever seen such immediate denial written in the lines on someone's face. “Mr. Seresin, your wife has died.” The words Doctor Morrison was saying were not sinking in as Jake stood there completely blind to the reality happening around him. “I’m so sorry for your loss–” 
“Uh–” Jake frowned as the confusion kicked in. “I'm sorry, you must have mistaken me for someone else. My wife was fine before she went in for surgery, she was fine.” 
“Yes, yes, your wife was fine, yes–” Doctor Morrison tried to keep his composure, but even after all these years the losses still hurt. It made him feel human to experience the emotions alongside the family members, but in the first few seconds of watching Jake Seresin spiral into a hole of denial that you were, in fact, gone, Doctor Morrison, knew this particular loss would haunt him for the rest of his career. 
Speaking slowly, Doctor Morisson tried once more to explain what had happened in a way that Jake would understand. “The stress of the surgery along with her recent stroke…her body just couldn't handle the stress. Her heart experienced a cardiac episode and we unfortunately couldn’t revive her.” 
The immediate silence between the two men was all-consuming as it was telling. Jake’s heart was breaking in two. 
“Is there someone I can call for you?” Doctor Morrison tried to be as empathetic as he could be, this part of the job was never easy. The part where he was tasked with telling loved ones that the people they loved had passed on his table. They were few and far between, but the people he did lose would forever haunt him. He could name every single one and their family’s name too. Jake Seresin would be a name Doctor Morrison would remember for the rest of his life and into the next. 
“Are you out of your mind?” Jake pushed back almost immediately as he tried to wrap his head around what he was being told. This didn’t make any sense, you were just here. You were fine. 
“No, Mr. Seresin I–” Doctor Morrison tried to explain again, but it was to no avail.
“I–Okay, I think you must be mistaken,” Jake wiped his hand on his jeans as he stepped back. “I just need to ge–”
“Mr. Seresin, please.” Doctor Morrison tried to stop Jake from leaving the waiting area, but Jake just stepped further back with a frown of disgust and grief. He was still holding his packet of Lays. 
“No, no can you just, can you back up?” Jake nearly growled. “Can you leave me alone?” Jake looked around as he tried to remember how to breathe. People were staring at him like he was in a zoo. A caged and cornered animal begging to be left alone. “Can somebody get this person to just give me some space please?” It was as heartbreaking as it was cruel to watch Jake walk down the hall towards where he knew your hospital room was. 
“Y/n?” He called out hoping you'd be back by now. “You won’t believe this guy, honey. He just–” The moment Jake rounded the corner and saw your hospital room empty with no sign of you, he stood still. All the air had been sucked right from his lungs as his eyes scanned the room. Your Christmas lights weren’t flashing, your bed wasn't made, and your laptop sat open with a black screen, but just where you’d left it. You weren't back. 
“Y/n?” Jake whispered under his breath as his eyes continued to scan the empty hospital room just waiting for you to appear from out of the bathroom or sneak up behind him. But Jake knew you weren't about to appear even though he wished for nothing more. 
“Oh–” One step, two steps, three steps, four. Jake didn't know where he was but he was on the move. He couldn't stay here looking at an empty room. He had to find where you were. “Oh god, no, no no no no no, please no don’t take her away from me.” 
“Jake!” The woman's voice Jake had come to know over the last few days broke through the fog that was clouding Jake's mind. He continued to stumble blindly down the ward. “I just heard,” Lydia explained as she rushed up to the man who she had come to know as your husband. “I'm so sorry, I wasn't expecting this to happen. I thought–” Lydia quickly reacted when Jake's knees buckled underneath him. 
“Woah! I need a little help over here!” Doctor Morrison was quick on the draw as he made his way over to where Jake now kneeled on the floor unable to breathe. 
“My wife–” Jake tried to talk as he hyperventilated. “Y/n!” he cried out for all to hear. “Y/N!” 
“She's gone.” Doctor Morrison had to make sure the fact was sinking in. 
“Oh Jake, I’m so sorry–” Lydia tried to console the six-foot-something man who had crumbled to his knees. “Your wife was an amazing woman.” 
Jake still couldn't believe it, he didn't believe it, and he wouldn't. The pain he felt inside his chest, the burning hot sensation was excruciating. He’d never felt such a feeling of grief mixed with denial and so much love. You couldn’t be gone. He was having a nightmare, wasn’t he? This wasn't real. He was dreaming. This was all one big dream. It had to be. It had to be a nightmare his subconscious had concocted. A nightmare where Jake lost it all. His biggest fears were realised. 
“I need my wife, I need Y/n,” Jake sobbed as Lydia kneeled on the ground in front of him just assessing his current state of shock. “I can't, she can't–no no no she's fine, please tell me she's fine.” 
“I'm so sorry, Jake,” Lydia confirmed what Jake wished so desperately wasn’t true. “She’s gone,” Lydia’s voice became distorted as she held the broken man in her arms. “You need to wake up before it's too late.” 
************************
Bradley Bradshaw was accustomed to losing the people he loved the most in this world. He’d lost his father, his mother, and his grandparents. For a while there he’d lost the only man who had ever slightly filled the shoes his dad left behind. But the loss of someone who was still there was something he’d never had to handle before. 
“Nat, he hasn’t gotten out of bed in days,” Bradley groaned as he cleaned up the kitchen. “The kids already lost their mother,” Bradley tried his best to keep his voice down, but the way little Lennox clocked Bradley from where he was sitting at the dining table made him realise he wasn’t one to talk on the quiet side. “They don’t need to lose their dad too.”
Jake stood just outside of Bradley’s eyeline, but he could hear everything the giant overgrown bird was saying. He couldn’t hear what Phoenix was saying but there was enough back and forth on Bradley’s behalf to easily fill in the gaps. 
“No. No, he hasn’t been down since the funeral.” Jake forgot how to exhale at the mere mention of your funeral as he hid in the hall. He couldn’t remember ever getting ready or speaking at your wake. He couldn’t remember who drove them or if the kids cried. He couldn’t remember hugging your mother or shaking your brother’s hand. Jake couldn’t remember any details about the flowers he’d organised or the people who were there. 
The anti-depressants weren’t helping. Nothing was. Nothing would. 
Until today, Jake couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed. Without you, there was no point. He was begrudgingly okay with living a life in a world where you were still in it. But living in a world where you were no longer present wasn’t something Jake was willing to do. The kids would be fine with their grandparents. They’d be fine with Uncle Rooster. Lennox and Lucy and little Sammy didn’t need him. How was he supposed to look into their eyes and know he could never see the twinkle in yours ever again? 
“I’m really worried about him, Nat,” Rooster sighed as he held his phone up to his ear with his shoulder. He was working on making little Samy some banana pancakes. “As much as I want to, I can’t stay here forever, but he needs someone.” 
“No one is asking you to babysit me, Bradshaw,” Jake replied to the statement Bradley wasn’t expecting an answer to. “You can leave, trust me, I can drop the kids off with my mum.” 
Bradley stood stunned into silence as he watched Jake round the corner and into vision. He reluctantly reached for his phone and hung up as Phoenix questioned what was going on. 
“Hey man,” Rooster finally broke the silence as he watched Jake walk closer and closer to where Sammy sat in his high chair. “How you feeling today?” 
“Well, my wife’s still dead, so that’s something,” Jake replied with a sigh as he picked up Sammy and placed him on his lap. Lennox could see the look of pure admiration in his younger brother’s eyes as Jake hugged the smallest of the Seresin kids. “Seriously, you’ve done enough for us, I got it from here.” It was the biggest lie Jake had ever tried to tell not only himself but his best friend. 
“Uh,” Bradley wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure? I mean–I wanna stay as long as you need man,” Bradley tried to plead his case as Jake went about his business with Sammy. The business being nothing. Jake stood somewhat dazed and lost in the middle of the clean-ish kitchen. A kitchen he knew where nothing was. It wasn’t his. It was yours. 
“I think the kids should come back to North Island with me,” Jake opted to ignore what Bradley was saying. Instead, he decided to continue with a vague plan for what the future holds. A future he didn’t want to have with you. A future he didn’t care about. 
“You want the kids to uproot everything they know?” Rooster frowned as he looked over to where Lenny sat watching on. The kids were down, to say the least. Bradley could recognise himself in the permanent pout that had taken shape across Lennox’s face. The puffy eyes and saddened expression really tied the whole look of mourning together. They were just kids, they didn’t deserve any of this. “I don’t think you should be thinking about coming back to work anything soon either.” 
“I don’t need you micromanaging me,” Jake hissed as he held onto his youngest son, all the while his eldest watched on with concern for his dad. “I need you to go home, Rooster, we’ve got it from here.” 
“You don’t got anything, Seresin. Are you kidding me right now?” Bradley didn’t mean to come across as so defensive. But he’d seen Jake in this grief-fueled spiral long enough to know that his destructive and depressive mindset would end up causing more distress for the kids than intended. Jake was a good dad, that had never been questioned. Until now… Bradley wasn’t sure if his best friend could handle parenting three small children without a village to back him up. “The kids haven’t seen you in days–” 
“Would you rather them see me at my worst or not see me at all?” Jake’s grief was eating away at him. So much so that Jake began to wish each time he closed his eyes he’d get to stay with the version of you his mind had envisioned. “I’m fine, I’ve got it from here,” Jake sighed as he hugged little Sammy with all the strength that he had. “I wasn’t, but I’m fine now and I just wanna spend time with the kids.” 
“I don’t believe a word you’re saying right now man,” Bradley replied as he caught sight of Lucy coming down the hall. She’d been sleeping much like her father was. Great, all three Seresin children were present for their father’s impending breakdown. 
“Get the fuck out of my house, Bradshaw.” This hadn’t been the first confrontation Jake and Bradley had gotten into while Bradley had been staying in Rhode Island as the Seresin kid’s personal live-in nanny. And it certainly wouldn’t be the last. It was becoming an almost everyday occurrence. The only difference this time was the kids were here to witness it. “I don’t need you here–”
“You aren’t thinking straight, just–how about the kids and I go for a walk or something and you sort yourself out? Have a shower? Shave? Drink something other than alcohol for–” Before Rooster could finish his sentence, Jake was placing Sam on the kitchen floor with a haste that didn’t sit right with Rooster. Lennox was the first to move from his chair. He was the spitting image of his father. 
“I don’t fucking care, Rooster!” Jake shouted at the top of his lungs. So loud and with such rage that the veins in his neck were popping as his skin turned a nice shade of ruby red. He took fast strides across the kitchen until Jake was standing toe to toe with his best friend. The very friend who’d been taking care of his children since before your passing. “I have to live the rest of my fucking live without the woman I love, so, cut me some godman slack before I knock your smug ass head from your shoulders.” 
Bradley didn’t move. He didn’t retaliate. He watched over Jake’s shoulder how his three children all cowered on the kitchen floor, scared of how their father yelled. Jake was oblivious to his surroundings. He couldn’t see the kids were struggling too. 
“Jake?” Bradley sighed as he placed his hands on either side of Jake’s face. “When the fuck are you gonna get through all this?” Braley asked softly as he remained calm. “When are you gonna wake up?” 
“Wake up?” Jake repeated as he pulled his face from his best friend's grip. “Wake up? Bradshaw, I died with my wife! There is no waking up from any of this!” 
“Maybe–” Bradley shrugged as he walked over to where the kids had been huddled together. It was only as Jake followed Bradley’s trajectory that he realised how much he’d scared his children. Something he never wanted to do. “There's always hope though.” 
“Kids,” Jake sighed as his tears began to fall. He dropped to his knees right then and there in the kitchen he wasn't familiar with. In a house that was now cold and dark without your constant radiating light to keep it warm and bright. “Guys, I'm sorry, huh–Dad didn't mean to raise his voice, he’s just–” Before Jake could finish his sentence, little Lennox was finishing his father’s sentence for him. 
“You’re just sick, dad.” 
“What?” Jake frowned as the kids made their way over to where Jake was kneeling on the tiles. 
“I said you’re just sad, Dad,” Lennox replied once more as he gave his dad a hug. “We’ll take care of you.” 
************************
December 31st 
Jake Seresin tried his best to hide the wet tears that fell down his cheeks as he sat with his kids on the lounge of the home that he had tried his best to keep as tidy as he could. There was a lot of uncertainty, a lot of frustration, a lot of fear and unbelievable sadness that surrounded Jake and your three small children. The unknown was truly tragic, terrifying and treacherous, but Jake wasn’t about to let his kids see the way he so desperately wanted to cry. 
Things had changed since Jake fell mind, body and soul into an unimaginably deep hole of depression. So much so that days had become to feel like one long dream. A paradox of grief and manic love. Your mother had told Jake to feel every ounce of emotion he had locked away. Maz had told him that grief was just someone’s residual love with nowhere else to go. 
Once Jake was able to understand that the pain of losing you was his love for you, he understood why it hurt so deeply on a cellular level. He understood why it hurt to look at the children he’d created with you. He understood why the kids had wanted to sit and open the small, still-wrapped Christmas present Lenny had found in Jake’s bag when he was looking for his dad’s wallet. 
Because it was one of the last things you ever gifted someone. It was one of your last acts on earth. 
“What did Mum get you for Christmas, Daddy?” Jake held the small present in the palm of his hand, the present he had yet to open. The present he wasn’t sure he wanted to. It felt like something he’d held before, the weight felt all too familiar. It haunted him the more he carried it around, held it in the palm of his hand and contemplated the inevitable. 
“I dunno buddy, you reckon I should open it?” Jake asked as he kissed his son's head. “S’not Christmas anymore.” The Naval Aviator had recently shaved his head, it had been the closest to a number one he’d ever had. It was in solidarity, union. A decision he made in the blink of an eye but one he did not regent or ever would. 
“We haven’t taken the tree down yet,” Lucy added her two cents into the conversation as she laid her head on her father’s thigh. “Mum would be upset if you didn’t open it, Dad.” Jake knew that much was true, you probably would be pretty bent out of shape if he never opened it. 
“Alright, I’d better open it then huh?” Jake shook the small perfectly wrapped box he could hold in the palm of his hand. He heard what sounded like a rock rattle inside. His heart nearly exploded inside his chest. 
Fuck….Jake knew what it was and he really didn’t want to open it. 
“Hey, Dad?” Lucy’s voice sounded completely different to anything Jake had ever heard before. She was looking right at him yet her eyes were trained on something one hundred miles away. 
“Yeah, sweetheart?” Jake replied just as he was about to open the present you’d given him before his life was turned upside down. 
“You need to wake up now,” Lucy’s voice sounded familiar, but it wasn’t her own. “You’ve had enough time here,” 
“What are you talking about Lu?” Jake frowned as he looked at his daughter. An extension of himself and you. “Lucy? Are you feeling okay?” 
“You’ll be a good dad soon,” Lucy smiled as she unwrapped the small ring box in Jake’s hand. The ring box that held what Jake assumed to be your engagement ring. But as little Lucy opened the wrapping, a blinding light burst through the cracks. A light so bright it forced Jake to squint. 
“Please wake up, honey,” Jake heard your voice clear as day as Lucy opened the ring box to send a piercing white light into the living room. Jake was completely captured by the light around him. So much so the entire room was drowned in a light so pure it was crystal clear. He couldn’t see a single thing beyond the all-encompassing white. 
“Please wake up for us,” again your voice was the only thing Jake could hear in the void he found himself in. 
“Y/n?” Jake called out into the void around him. He could feel his ribcage breaking like he couldn't breathe. Every breath he took was agony. “Hello?” Yet he could hear your voice. A voice he longed for. A voice he had to get back to. Jake had to get to you. 
“I’m here, you’re alright,” Jake once again heard your angelic siren song. His head began to throb. The feeling was agonising. Like there was no more room for swelling. 
“Where are you?” Jake called out as he stumbled in the light. The smell of burning flesh mixed with jet fuel overcame Jake’s senses. His need to get to you was more powerful than the deep bone ache he could feel in his legs. There was nothing on earth or beyond that would stop Jake from getting to wherever the hell you were calling him from. His entire body ached with a pain so unimaginable it sent him to his knees. Crawling, Jake cried out for you just one more time. 
“Y/n!?” Jake called out once more in a desperate attempt to find you in the void. “Kids?” 
“Here he comes,” Bradley’s voice echoed out as Jake looked up towards where he assumed the sky would be. The glare was too much. Jake placed his forearms over his forehead to soften the brightness. “Come on Hangman, don't leave us out to dry.” 
Some people spend their whole lives trying to make a dream come true. They set a goal and make a plan on how to achieve it. It works for some people. But for others, it’s not so easy. As hard as they work toward the dream, it can feel like the whole world has plotted against them. 
As someone gets further and further away from the dream, people begin to cling to any sign of hope. And the longer it takes and the more it costs…you start to consider whether you should give up. Do you find a new dream? Or do you stick to the one that started you on this journey in the first place? 
For Jake, things weren’t as black and white. 
As Jake closed his eyes and took one painful last breath in, he felt as if he’d fallen from cloud nine. When he opened his eyes, the light was still there….But he wasn’t.
Jake’s eyelids fluttered, the faintest hint of light creeping through the haze of his mind. He tried to move, but his body felt foreign as if it wasn’t entirely his own. The weight of unconsciousness clung to him, reluctant to release its hold. Slowly, he became aware of the sounds around him—
“Jake, It’s me, can you hear me?”
**********************
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seewetter · 2 days ago
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Sure, that makes sense, but the people seeing a self-conflicting value system aren't wrong:
A huge point of transphobic rhetoric is using the naturalistic fallacy and arguing that cis people are natural and that transition is unnatural. The recent statement from the Catholic church that trans people are risking declaring themselves gods is a way to justify the cis norm against transition by arguing that transition is unique and thus abnormal because modifies people from their natural state.
I agree that this conversation likely leads nowhere, I agree that it may not matter what people think about this topic, but we can at least acknowledge that the instinct to point to cis people who do gender-affirming modifications to their bodies is not a bad instinct. Those cis people are "playing god" with their bodies just as much. And it's completely normalized and doesn't cause some church reminder not to risk playing god please.
I find that posts like these end up doing two things.
1. they make trans people (like the OP) not understand other trans people (the "naive trans people").
2. they make decent observations out to be trivial and so people start feeling ashamed to voice those observations. Which causes them to fall out of use. And then, 10 years from now, we get a new discourse cycle because someone re-discovered and found use for those supposedly useless observations.
Sorry, but just because observations of hypocrisy usually don't do much to persuade bigots and closed-minded people, doesn't mean that noticing these hypocrisies isn't helpful. I genuinely think that a lot of trans people have a lot better mental health the more wrong and less well-thought-out they realize transphobes are. So pointing out the hypocrisies can have value and it is not something you should just dismiss. I want informed trans people, not trans people who keep "discovering" small insights over long stretches of time that they could have learned really quick if we didn't mock every observation about transphobic hypocrisies.
"most gender affirming care is actually for cis ppl, isn't that hypocritical?" well they're affirming and reinforcing the societal structure of assigned gender so no actually. if they could they'd want you to get surgery to make you line up with your coercive gender assignment too, and very often they do, especially to kids.
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monsters00km · 1 day ago
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I like to think Cassandra would have loved Vi.
Not like right away. But more than Tobias.
The main reason is that most of what we know about her is from Caitlyns' perspective. And honestly is makes sense that a 23 year old who still lives at home and has a mother that is powerful feels the way she does about her mom.
But I think about how Cassandra's protectiveness benefits Marcus. Marcus wanted to keep Caitlyn at arms length and Cassandra wanted Caitlyn safe. So I have always wondered if Marcus used this and kept Caitlyn away from more things and blamed it on Cassandra.
This is the big issue between Cassandra and Caitlyn. Her pursuit of her career. And Jayce makes the comment about it not being an esteemed career, and that's the issue. But this is never confirmed by Cassandra.
And what do we know for sure? Cassandra had Caitlyn removed from the force after her was hurt and almost killed. What if this is the actual reason? Regardless of your opinion on enforcers, their line of work would probably be some of the most dangerous in the city. And we are also told she had Caitlyn put on the tent during progress day. She wouldn't do that bc she thinks Caitlyn is above being an enforcer. Actually, they wouldn't make sense at all bc if she's embarrassed by Caitlyn being an enforcer, why make her watch your tent? Bc it wasn't about that. It was about watching Caitlyn and keeping her safe.
And I am not saying she doesn't want Caitlym to be a council member. I'm sure she does. But just bc she wants that doesn't mean she would actively push that. But it is very understandable to actively push for your kid to be safe.
But the 2 things I keep circling back to om why she would have loved Vi is respect and Caitlyn.
I think the reason Cassandra gives Caitlyn that head nod to go after Vi is bc of how Vi acted in the council chambers. Vi just stood in front of the council and basically yelled at them for not doing enough for Zaun.
And we find out in s2 Cassandra made the air clean for Zaun. This doesn't seem like known information. Which means Cassandra helped Zaun not for the praise or recognition, but bc she thought it was the right thing to do.
And Vi just stood in front of the council and showed no fear, and asked them to help Zaun. And yelled at them when they said no. I'm inclined to think Cassandra would have respected that. She may not have thought it was smart. But she would have respected it.
Then we have Caitlyn. Cassandra is never shown pushing relationships onto Caitlyn. Cassandra would know the struggle of being known as a kiramman and not just Cassandra. Vi wears her heart on her sleeve. Another thing that happens in that council meeting is Vi and Caitlyn looking at each other as if the other hung the moon.
I think Cassandra recognized very quickly that Caitlyn had fallen for Vi. And she could see those feelings were returned.
I think Caitlyn is way more like Cassnadra than Tobias. And i think Cassandra knew her daughter better than the audience gives her credit for. From what we have seen of Tobias. We know he wanted to punish Jayce for the explosion in s1 act 1. Not Cassandra. Cassandra sides with Caitlyn to help Jayce. And in s2 act1 he clearly doesn't like Vi. Or that she is there. And he doesn't support Caitlyn at all in s2. Yes. He is grieving. But Caitlyn is grieving and struggling with blaming herself and the weight of filling Cassandra's shoes. And he isn't there for her. And Vi is. And he doesn't seem to realize that Vi is not only helping to support his daughter. But that Caitlyn wants Vi there. It's all over her face.
And yes, we can address the "oh look a stray" comment. But Cassandra wasn't surprised Caitlyn brought a girl home through her window. The stary comment feels more directed at Caitlyn than Vi. Like it's a jab at how she snuck another girl in through the window. Which would imply that Caitlyn isn't serious about Vi.
Then we have Caitlyn and Cassandra's conversation. And how not only did Cassandra let Caitlyn and Vi believes alone in her bedroom afterwords (Yes they are adults but it is still Cassandra's house she could have demanded they can't be in there alone). But Cassandra did what Caitlyn thought Jayce would do. She helped her. She didn't tell her she was wrong. She didn't push back on her. She got her into the meeting with the council.
This got bigger than expected. But I just have a lot to say about it. I know they are small characters based on their screen time. But their impact on Caitlyn is so important and vital to the story. And the more i think about Cassandra, the more i think people really mischaracterize her. I think she loved Caitlyn and her biggest fault was trying to protect her.
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literaryvein-reblogs · 22 hours ago
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Writing Notes: Hyperbole
Hyperbole
An intentional exaggeration or an exaggerated statement that isn’t meant to be taken literally.
Typically used to make writing and speech more exciting using exaggeration. An imaginative hyperbole can capture the attention of a reader or listener as they analyze the hyperbole to understand the user’s actual meaning.
Examples of Hyperbole
Jim fell off the roof and broke every bone in his body.
Don’t touch that hive unless you want to deal with a million angry bees.
We looked forever for the remote but couldn’t find it.
My sister will eat anything.
The whole world was against me, but I managed to complete the report on time.
That comment is the dumbest thing anyone has ever said.
My mom keeps checking up on me every five seconds.
The explosion was loud enough to wake the dead.
I told him a billion times to keep the window closed.
My dad will kill me if he finds out I failed my math test.
That house is older than the dinosaurs.
The TV weighed a ton, so I had to drag it across the room.
Our grandma was the smartest person who ever lived.
The star running back is a bulldozer who destroys anything in his path.
I was sweating buckets while working outside today.
We live in Dallas, and my brother lives a million miles away in Toronto.
Hurry up and hand me the scissors before I die of old age.
The clowns had the entire audience dying with laughter.
She’s been working nonstop on her new painting.
My job is so easy that a monkey could do it.
Our daughter is a little angel.
The smell was so bad it would’ve downed a bull elephant.
Gaston is stronger than 10 men and has a smile that lights up the room.
Since she got sick and stopped eating, my cat has been nothing but skin and bones.
Hyperbole is an example of a rhetorical device.
Typically, a rhetorical device is defined as a technique or word construction that a speaker or writer uses to win an audience to their side, either while trying to persuade them to do something or trying to win an argument.
In the case of hyperbole specifically, exaggerated language can give an audience a sense of scale. For example, hyperbole can be used to imply an issue a speaker supports is very important or be used to imply an issue a speaker opposes is unimportant or dangerous.
At the same time, hyperbole can help establish a rapport with an audience, as it’s often seen as an example of less formal language.
it is important not to confuse or mislead an audience.
It should be clear whether or not a statement is a hyperbole.
A good practice is to use extreme embellishment or impossible feats in your hyperbole to make it abundantly clear that you are exaggerating. For example:
Ambiguous hyperbole: There are twenty cats in the barn. (A possible event.)
Clear hyperbole: There are a billion cats in the barn. (An impossible exaggeration.)
In formal writing and serious situations, hyperbole must be used sparingly and effectively.
Because hyperbole is often viewed as less formal, it may come across as inappropriate or make the user seem as though they aren’t serious.
When an audience expects accurate information or hard facts, hyperbole can give the impression that the speaker doesn’t have the information the audience wants or is intentionally concealing it from them.
Ill-timed use of hyperbole like this can damage the speaker’s credibility or weaken their influence over their audience.
Literary Examples of Hyperbole
His horses are the finest and strongest that I have ever seen, they are whiter than snow and fleeter than any wind that blows. —Iliad by Homer (7th/8th century BCE)
Nor was Stubb the only banqueter on whale’s flesh that night. Mingling their mumblings with his own mastications, thousands on thousands of sharks, swarming round the dead leviathan, smackingly feasted on its fatness. —Moby Dick by Herman Melville (1851)
It surprised me that what before was desert and gloomy should now bloom with the most beautiful flowers and verdure. My senses were gratified and refreshed by a thousand scents of delight and a thousand sights of beauty. —Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (1818)
Sources ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs
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mymoshangthoughts · 1 day ago
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okay, okay, okay, bear with me
mobei jun already knows about shang qinghua as airplane
oki ive decided to take advantage of the fact that WE NEVER GET A MOBEI JUN POV AND I'LL BE FORVER SALTY ABOUT THAT SHIT
but like, shen yuan figured airplane out REAL fast, right? they barely spent time together before the immortal alliance and then it takes one surprise before airplane is saying stupid shit, right?
and i cant help but think, mobei jun aint dumb and he's been spending How Many Years crashing at shang qinghua's leisure house whenever the fuck he feels like it?
he also finds shang qinghua to be Hella Sus because come on, ofc he does. a human just declares their undying loyalty to you after one fucking meeting??? even if he believes shang qinghua is being sincere in the moment, the fact that he was so quick to betray his sect doesnt speak of a loyal servant
so why wouldnt he snoop? why wouldnt he pay extra close attention when shang qinghua says shit that doesnt make sense? why wouldnt he notice when shang qinghua speaks or writes in a language that he doesnt recognize? airplane canonically isnt fluent in english so if he used a bit of it, especially chinglish, wouldnt mobei jun be able to learn some of the meanings of the words just by context clues? especially when he has YEARS to decode it? like if airplane was fluent, maybe he could hide the meaning, but a limited vocabulary adapted to another language isnt actually super hard to decode. it's the same reason that you can generally understand what slang means before you look up the definition. you might not know what 'rizz' means, but you can pick up the meaning from context clues.
anyway im over explaining the linguistic aspects ALL IM SAYING IS what if airplane kinda depends heavily on chinglish to be his Secret Language that Theres No Way That Anyone Here Can Get. and sure, for most people, it does seem like gibberish. but again, mobei jun has YEARS at his side and reasons to nitpick at it and decode it.
like what if airplane had a habit of writing out pidw plot points in chinglish bc look he is Going to forget shit no matter what, he wrote that novel a lifetime ago, but theres some info thats pretty important for him to Not Forget. so mobei jun is just left with a huge stash of Impossible Information that shang qinghua writes about
everything ranging from future events to obscure demon world facts that theres just no justifiable reason for shang qinghua to know about and just everything in between.
but also what if shang qinghua wrote his feelings? his thoughts? his issues? like cmon, he literally has NO ONE to consult with about the insanity of his life before cucumber-bro, and his life is really crazy, and he used to be the person who wrote out his feelings via novel but look dude he's not about to tempt fate by writing out another novel rn so a diary makes sense. or at least like, random venting
and again, this isnt even mentioning airplane having some potential verbal fuckups that mobei jun can add to his ever growing file of "shang qinghua has something fucking going on"
and like, maybe mobei jun hasnt actually figured out the exact truth but he has some eerily close guesses. or maybe airplane wrote a lengthy journal explaining literally his entire fucked up life and mobei jun knows Everything.
look im just a little bit obsessed with mobei jun casually being aware for YEARS that shang qinghua is from another world and might have once had god-like powers over this world. i think this is very funny and i think it could work in a canon compliant way. cuz i also like to think that some of mobei jun's aggro at shang qinghua was a mixture of
you literally wont tell me who you really are. you claim to be my loyal subject but you wont even tell me your real name and Yes I'm Upset About That
you fucking fucker, you literally PLANNED that horrible event to happen???? you suck so bad omfg. THAT WAS TRAUMATIZING FOR ME YOU JERK NO I DONT CARE IF YOU FEEL BAD ABOUT IT NOW
your handwriting sucks and im mad that i didnt just have to decode your weird other language, i also had to decode your fucking horrendous handwriting and i dont know if i can ever forgive you for that
you barely ever show your real personality in front of me and i have to learn how you really feel by reading this fucking notes and YES IM UPSET ABOUT THAT
i also just love the idea of Something Happening to do with the multiverse and basically mobei jun is the only one who isnt remotely surprised lmfao. binghe is in crisis mode, cucumber thinks he's gonna die, airplane is freaked out, and mobei jun is just like "yeah, figured some dumb shit like this might happen. you didnt know binghe? dont you pay any attention to your husband :/ dude, they're not even good at hiding it, i thought you were supposed to be smart"
also the simultaneous heartattacks that cucumber and airplane would have that mobei jun just KNOWS like thats hilarious. imagine they need to talk about something secretly in public and its super urgent and mobei jun just starts using chinglish or webspeak or something perfectly and cumplane are FREAKING THE FUCK OUT
mobei jun: that mofo is hella sus, but keep it on the dl. ttyl i need to do a vibe check
cumplane: ?!?!?!?!?!?
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idolistic · 1 day ago
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"dont know what the hell it means" okay?? I didn't either??? and then I reread the essays like five times to get it?? like that's called learning, which is the point. the information is right there. it's beautifully written, charged with so much emotion, and it accounts for the one hundred little ways someone can contest it based on semantics. if these explanations behind the reality of transmisogyny are not easy for someone to understand or care about, that should be a red flag that they are complicit in transmisogyny, or have internalized it to an extent. yeah, people do not talk about it enough, because the erasure and denial of the experiences of trans women are that pervasive in society, queer or not. the language is precise, and it is so sharply representative of this specific issue because it's been proven pretty damn clearly thus far that tma people being honest about the shit they go through will automatically be taken in the worst faith possible. did we forget about white tears?? why should a tma individual be responsible for handholding the people that hurt her when she only gets fucked over again and again for it?
the reason we wont budge on "TMA/TME" is because it doesnt matter if the language is imperfect: any terminology tgirls et al (<- this is my new favorite btw) create to describe our experiences will be inevitably dismantled and expanded into a general-use term by the wider trans community as, of course, all previous examples have been too.
like yes of course in the most literal sense everybody is "affected" by transmisogyny in the same way that everybody is "affected" by all misogyny, or for that matter, everybody is "affected" by racism; the whole point is to describe what relationship specific groups have to institutional transmisogyny. nobody is saying people never (incorrectly) clock you as a trans woman and be mean about it, we're saying that there is nothing we can do to "exempt" ourselves from that type of violence; no ID, no birth certificate, no karyotype that will exempt us from institutional transmisogyny. it is literally fucking insane that people will understand this about any other type of institutional oppression & its relationship to gender -- seemingly, only in the trans community are we expected to believe men and women are on an equal footing.
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sbcdh · 2 days ago
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You know where the word cocaine comes from? Its Quechua. Just the name of the damn plant. I think it was 1971, maybe 72. I dunno- 
Could you start at the beginning?
Huh? Yeah, sure. Course. Uhh. Lets see…
Take your time. 
Woof. Lets see…I started in uhhh, 72. Some tiny little bottle-rocket firm sweatin for talent, head broker was this big red fatass named Ron Spade, hell of a guy, but the place got bought out by Bear Stearns in 73 when the shit really hit the fan. It was a rough time to be on a trade floor. IRS just put out the whole hypnoeconomics thing. Half the big firms were runnin’ around with their hair on fire, the other half felt invincible. Every day was a party. Party party party. 
Was that your first interaction with hypnostimulants? 
I guess. Its funny. First guy to give me quori was a cop. 
You mean an agent of the FDA? 
No no, like an old fashioned NYPD beat cop. Met him in the bathroom at Pink during a bender. Moron was so faded he thought I was his informant. Just gave me a phial. 
And you tried it?
Not right away no. To be honest I thought it was kinda faggy. Sorry. Its just what I thought at the time. The shit was sparkly, you know? What kinda drug comes in phials? Shoulda known something was up. 
Would you say hypnostimulants were popular at the time? 
At the time? Depends what you mean by popular. People didn’t know about that shit yet. You heard stories, dudes shooting up in the woods upstate, gettin found with their eyeballs exploded. It was early days, ya know? But like, that didn’t happen. That was urban legends. You know who was actually fucking around with the early stuff? Accountants. 
Accountants?
Yeah, you know, the bookkeepers. See,  I’m really just a plumber. I move money from one pipe to another pipe. But instead of wrenches and sprockets or whatever, I use charm. Its pretty easy if you ask me. Imagine if you could just tell water where it already wanted to go. You’re water’s best pal. Nah. It was those nerds in the basement, the spreadsheet guys that figured out how to expense shit so the IRS couldn’t get ya. Those were the fuckers who really dove in. 
What got you using regularly? 
Same shit as everyone else. Makes the job easier. 
How so?
You can feel the money in their pocket. Its like, I dunno how to describe it. Its like…Its like, a turd sitting in a hammock. You can feel how the money bends everything around it. You can see it, smell it. You can hear it over the phone. You can’t ignore it. Shit is nuts. You take enough, and its like you can’t see anything else. Or. No. Its like…You see that you don’t need to see anything else. Money is everything. You’re money. I’m money. Its all just rivers of money flowing through everything. 
By 1973 you were a regular user yes?
Regular makes it sound normal. But yeah I know what you mean. “Regular user.”  76 was the sweet spot. The drugs were good, but the regulators hadn’t stepped up yet. You and some buddies could set up in a club bathroom with nothing but a blindfold and a pile. You ever seen a stock floor with a headfull of that fancy government shit? 
Would you like to discuss the raid? 
No. Not really. 
I understand you were the only one in a sub-emmanation state when Hypnoregulators arrived on the scene. 
I don't want to talk about it. 
Very well then, my associate will be happy to take you to prison as per the agreement you signed. 
Alright alright, Christ. 
Please. In your own words. 
From what I understand, you pulled spade outta bed. Got a confession and everything that morning. 9 fuckin AM, and 200 IRS agents come busting in the doors. I was in the bathroom seeing shit. It's marble lined, lots gold filigree. All that jazz. Special made. Listen. I'm serious about the stock floor shit. Whatever you guys have, it's different than what we had back then. I mean, the shit was still cut with cocaine. A stock floor wasn't a stock floor, it was like…
The raid, please. 
I'm getting to it! You gotta know this shit okay? I need you to understand what you goons fuckin wrecked. It was perfect okay? A garden of Eden . Ripe fruit. Everything just works. You don't have to worry about shit. You're a hunter, a killer, the great fuckin god pan, and the floor is your field of delights. It's like being a beating heart, like being struck by lightning. You can feel the sun in your pocket, and how it's all flowing through everything. And then you fucks showed up. 
It was cold. I felt it first. Like I just threw the biggest party, and mom and dad were coming home early. But you know what I saw? You know those Chinese dragon dancers? Or, lions, or whatever they are? You know how there's two guys in the costume? I saw a dragon, a beast with eyes like the sun, teeth dripping gold, a bunch of IRS suits holding its pelt on their shoulders like you carry your baby home. 
Your statement alluded to some additional information. 
Yeah…there was something else�� I dunno how to describe it. The fuckin…eyes, like the sun. Thats how you feel when you're on this shit. You're seein’ gold. I looked into the dragons eyes, and it's like, it's like I saw me. Like I was the dragon, and I was looking at me. Or…no. I was the sun. I was looking at myself. It was like, in that moment I knew something. I learned something. 
What exactly is that?
I dunno. It doesn't fit into words. But like. You aren't regulating shit. 
I'm sorry? 
Yeah. All this shit. The dragon. The field. The dancers. It's all just the sun.
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tuesdayiminlove · 2 days ago
Text
i don't wanna look at anything else (now that i saw you) PART 2/3
where jamie seems to remember everything, and you're just trying to navigate a stitch on your crochet flower (jamie tartt x fem!reader)
part one
A/N: here's part two!!!!! link what yall think, im so grateful for the feedback of the first part, it's super encouraging <33 tysm. also this is NOT proofread oops
word count: 4.5k
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When you arrive back inside your home, you’re heavy-breathing with a heartbeat erratic enough for your heart to pop out of your chest. You place your keys down, reaching into your jean pocket for your phone, placing the first call you can manage to muster up. 
Stevie is over within minutes, you think you might’ve heard her light jogging over to your house. 
Her heavy pants echo the room as she tries to muster up the words. “I just got back from work, and I fucking ran! Tell me the emergency immediately.”
“I don’t even know where to begin!” you say. “I mean, I was trying to make some creamy vegetable soup, but I didn’t even get to chop the tomatoes, Stevie! The fucking tomatoes! I—“
“Okay, begin by getting the point, babe." She walks to your kitchen, you following close behind. It doesn’t come to a surprise that she opens your refrigerator, most likely rummaging for the cucumbers and your chickpea hummus. “I love you, but if this is dire, I’m gonna need to know now.” 
You gather your thoughts as Stevie begins to look through your drawers for a knife. How do you even say it simply? “Jamie Tartt thinks I’m his girlfriend.”
Stevie drops the knife. 
In any other situation, you would scold her for doing something close to a hazard in the kitchen. But you understand her actions completely. If you were holding a flower pot when finding out this information, you’d drop that shit, too. 
“Continue before I absolutely freak the fuck out.”
That’s when you tell her about the call and the trip to the hospital. The words are coming out of your mouth at the speed of light, you’re surprised Stevie is managing to keep up. But she does, quietly chopping her cucumbers and dipping a few into the hummus. This is a more collected look than when she dropped the knife, but you’re sure the gears are turning in her head just as much as they are for you currently. 
“I just left his house and I told him I’d be back with—soup!”
You don’t wait to turn the stove back on, shuffling Stevie away from the center of the counter while you go back to cooking. 
She says your name slowly, eyes wide. “This is some romcom-movie-shit, babe.”
You fight a roll of your eyes. “This is real life!” you scold. “And the poor boy is concussed, probably mental!” 
“Mental for thinking he’s dating you? Have you seen yourself? You’re fucking magnificent.”
“Thanks,” you drawl, not in the mood for a compliment. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s just a bit bonkers right now, and I don’t know what to do!” You stir the pot stressfully, watching the ingredients mix around the broth. You’ve put a bit more ingredients, and added more broth to make sure that the serving is good for two, and for any leftovers Jamie may want. You think you’ll have enough to send Steve home with, as well. “The doctor said not to startle him, but I’m pretty fucking startled. So I don’t know how to not startle him when I’m not in the right state of mind! This feels so stupid.” 
“I think you should tell him the truth,” says Stevie. She’s right behind your shoulder, peering over at the pot. She takes a large whiff, and hums. “You making this for him?”
“And for you.” And me! 
“Ah,” she says. “I see. A little compensation so I don’t out you to the press, yeah? Nice thinking!”
“Not funny,” you drawl. It was never a thought that crossed your mind that Stevie would go out, telling people of your current entanglement with Jamie. She’s an editor for a magazine company, and she has a problem telling you all the tips she gets about local celebrities, always trusting you not to tell anyone anything. You don’t doubt that she’ll do the same for you. “So I should tell him the truth, then?” you ask, getting back to the main point of Stevie’s visit. 
“Mhm,” she replies. “Probably not today though, don’t you think? He’s overwhelmed enough as it is, he’s probably gonna be benched in Richmond’s next couple matches. That sad fuck is probably groveling as we speak. And he can’t even drink to cure the pain! … That’s how concussions work, right?” She shakes her head. “Anyway, don’t do it today. If I were you, I’d play it by ear, you know?”
You nod, having heard all of this from the doctor.
"And one more thing."
Stevie hums in questionn
“… He may have tried to kiss me.”
You think everyone in the neighborhood heard Stevie’s screech when she belts your name. 
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It’s later in the day when you ring Jamie’s doorbell. You’d successfully shooed Stevie out of your house, convincing her that she does not need to spy on you from your kitchen window in case Jamie tries to make a move (“I’ll be there in two seconds, ready to make that concussion worse. Just say the word.”). And now you have the soup in two tupperware containers, as well some carrots and dip in your tote bag because that’s what Jamie originally always used you for, right? The familiarity will hopefully make him happy. 
When he opens the door, you’re not surprised to see all the lights are closed, as well as his curtains shut (so much for Stevie spying). The only thing you see that’s shedding artificial light is the lamp by his staircase, but even that looks as dim as it can be. 
“Hey, love,” he says groggily, a certain warmth to it that makes the nickname seem more intimate. He rubs his eyes as he moves to create room for you to come inside. “Sorry I took so long. Took a bit of a nap.”
“Oh,” you frown, concern taking over the nerves of his sudden pet names, “I’m sorry for waking you. I can just drop these off and head out, if you’d prefer?”
Jamie shakes his head. “Don’t be silly. Come in.”
You enter apprehensively, though you’re trying your best to conceal it. This is the second time ever that you are in Jamie’s home. And it’s only been a day. The strangeness of that fact lingers in the air as you close the door behind you.
You trail behind him toward the kitchen, your footsteps quiet against the hardwood floors. Various football plaques litter the walls, as well as many, many photos of Richmond’s team.
“Why don’t you go sit down?” you say as you simultaneously take in his home. “I can prepare these myself and bring them to you.”
“Rubbish," scoffs Jamie, "I’m still mobile, and I’m not leaving my girlfriend to take care of me like you’re some sort of maid. I’m not bedridden.”
The word girlfriend, once again, catches you off guard, and your heart does a funny little stutter. You push it aside. “I just don’t want you to exert yourself,” you reason, brows furrowed. “You’re concussed, Jamie.”
“Who cares about that?” he jokes, waving off your concerns. 
Your jaw clenches. You want to say I care. Because this concussion is affecting you more than you fucking know. But you bite your tongue, and instead ask him where he keeps his bowls and silverware. 
Minutes later, Jamie and yourself are sitting on his couch. You took the liberty of sitting on the opposite end of his sofa, taking up as little space as possible. You’ve tucked yourself into the far corner, legs curled up slightly, trying to occupy as little room as possible. Jamie, on the other hand, lounges comfortably, his socked feet propped on the edge of the coffee table, though his posture is slightly more relaxed than it was earlier. You’d ask Jamie if it would be okay to crochet while you’re here, mainly so you can have something to do instead of sitting there awkward with today’s events before you. 
So, soup now resting on Jamie’s coffee table (you stop every few moments to take a bite), you’re intent on the rose petal you’re making with your yarn. Jamie alternates between eating his soup and watching you, his gaze unashamedly direct, though there’s a softness to it that makes your heart flutter despite yourself.
To anyone else, the scene might look endearingly domestic: the two of you sharing a quiet moment in the living room, him eating soup, you crocheting, the occasional exchange of lighthearted banter. But there’s an underlying element to it. You don’t want to tip-toe around Jamie, because you’re supposed to be acting natural and all, but it’s hard. 
“You’re the most thoughtful thing ever, you know that?” he says, after a minute of silence. 
Your hands pause mid-stitch, your eyes staying fixed on the delicate yarn in front of you as you decide how to respond, stomach churning nervously. “A ‘thing’?” you joke lightly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “How very gentlemanly of you.”
“You know what I mean!” chastises Jamie. 
Fighting the butterflies in your stomach as his words settle warmly around your heart.
“I do know,” you reply softly, finally glancing up at him. “Why do you say that?”
“The rose you’re knitting—“
“Crocheting.”
“Crocheting. Sorry, love. How many are you making for the old bloke’s grandson?”
The moment you take in Jamie's words, you pause, crochet hook in the air. “What?” 
Jamie looks confused. “Mr. Taylor? That his name?”
You shake your head, mind still reeling. “No, I know who you meant. How do you know I’m making this for his grandson?” You don’t recall telling that to Jamie when you initially mentioned what you wanted to do here. 
You currently have half of a rose petal done, wanting to make something special for Mr. Taylor grandson—Roman. The young toddler is allergic to flowers, getting all sniffly and itchy when you had brought over a hand-made flower arrangement for the Taylors (it had been their 37th wedding anniversary). But Roman had just kept looking at the flowers with such curiosity, despite his body’s affinity for them. When you had decided to take up crocheting (you wanted to make tiny plant plushies yourself—because why are stuffed plushies with cute faces on them so expensive these days?), one of the first things you learned was to make stuffed flower arrangements, just for when Roman would visit. 
How could Jamie possibly know that?
“Because you’re you,” says Jamie. Blush coats over his cheeks lightly when he averts his gaze from hers, hand moving to scratch the back of his head.
“… And," he begins, "one day, I was in me car and I saw you walk over to the Taylors’ house with crochet roses. ‘Made it look like a nice arrangement, too. I wanted to ask you why you had fake flowers when you have fucking millions just in your front yard. Didn’t know if that’d sound weird, though, so…” he trails off, his words getting quieter, “So, I may have asked Mr. Taylor instead.”
You try to recall the memory Jamie spoke of. You do recall the last time you had headed over to the Taylors with the signature bouquet. Jamie had been at the front of his house, getting into his car. Of course she had noticed him immediately, spotting him just by her peripheral vision, but she hadn’t decided to spare him a look until she crossed the street to look back, but he had been preoccupied. She didn’t even think he saw her that day. 
That day had been nearly three months ago. 
Your mouth falls open. Jamie had noticed and asked about you that long ago?
Jamie glances at you nervously, mistaking your silence for something more negative. “I’m not some creep or anything, promise! I just—I dunno—I was curious! You’re always doing stuff like that.” 
You shake your head. “I just never knew you noticed,” you mumble, your nerves growing. Even now, he remembers. You wish you knew what that meant for you two; you wish that the suspicions and hopes in your brain are true. “Or asked.”
Jamie’s cockiness kicks back in at your flustered nerves. “Like I said, I’ve always noticed you. And now I get to be the luckiest guy.”
Your eyes meet his. For a moment, you let yourself pretend. Pretend that this is real—that this is the relationship you and Jamie have built together. That you’re a couple, and this is just one of those moments you get to stumble upon—a sweet realization that Jamie had liked you long before either of you dared to admit it.
You let yourself hold on to the fantasy, just for a moment.
It has to be just a moment... you think if you stare any longer at Jamie your body is going to take over and grab him for a kiss, just to know what it may feel like. You just know you shouldn’t.
“Four,” you say softly. “I’m making four for Roman.” You turn back to the stitch you had laid on your lap, trying to get out of your frenzie and into your zone. 
Jamie smiles, eyes still twinkling. “That’s his name? Roman?”
You hum. “He’s about to turn four. And he’s just the most adorable kid I’ve seen.”
“I’m being rude, aren’t I?" replies Jamie, "Prodding.”
Your head snaps up. “What? No.” You uncomfortably shift in your seat to hopefully look less odd. “Sorry if I’m being weird. I’m just… zoned out, I guess. Thinking a lot.”
“Yeah?” he says, staring at you intently. “What about?”
“Just… everything about today, I suppose.”
Jamie jokingly smiles. “Yeah, getting a call that your boyfriend got whacked in the head and is now concussed wasn’t really in your daily plan, was it?”
You let out a laugh. “No, it wasn’t.”
“It got in the way of watering radishes, I bet.”
Again, you laugh more, your stomach moving steadily at the action. From the limited conversation you’ve had with him, paired with now, you’ve deduced that Jamie is just a complete pro for lightening up conversations. When your heart races nervously, a quip comes out of his mouth that makes your body go back steady. You don’t even think that this is an individual experience; he seems like he does it a lot. You wonder how that balance comes so perfectly in his life. 
“Yeah,” you laugh. “My gardening has to come to a pause today.” 
“It’s a shame,” he says, grinning. “Would’ve loved to see you in your cute sunhat, or the giant yellow gloves you always wear.”
Your eyes widen at his words. 
Seeing your shock, he adds, “You think I don’t notice these things? I always have.”
You try not to cough up the food you’d just digested. You would like to consider that Jamie is just making things up, but the description of your usual accessories when you’re out tending to your plants remain true. The giant yellow gloves belong to your mom, and there hasn’t been any reason to buy new ones if you’ve already got a pair. 
And the sunhat—well, it’s not everyday you’re seen out with it. It’s usually if the sun ever comes out, glaring at your eyes while you try to focus on a task at hand. You’ve probably brought it out maybe a couple of times since Jamie had moved in next to you; none of those times being as of recent. 
It’s a shock Jamie can even recall it. 
He remembers the little things. I always have. 
“Fuck,” he mutters softly. “Have I creeped you out? Don’t mean to sound like a prick, but I thought what I said was pretty fucking cute. But I understand if it’s creepy again. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
You shake your head. “No, Jamie, I’m not creeped. ‘M kinda just shocked that you notice things like that.” 
He shrugs. “It’s hard to not pay attention. You live right beside me. And you’re you. It’s pretty fucking impossible for me not to notice things about you.”
Your heart is back to racing. All of Jamie’s confessions of things he’s noticed can only insinuate that he’s genuinely seen things about you, whether he had gotten hit in the head or not. They’re not fabricated in his mind from his belief that you two are dating. He’s not like Holy shit, do you remember that time we had dinner together? You think if he started recalling specific memories that never happened, you’d check him straight into the nearest mental institution. 
But he’s saying things that are so undeniably true; things he’s noticed about your being. 
If you aren’t already so conscious and confused of the actual problem at hand, you’d sit here and pretend that he’s yours—just as much as he claims to be. You wish this moment to be real, but it’s not. The sadness and guilt that weighs over you with that fact can overtake any other feeling in this moment. 
“Jamie,” you begin, “I need to tell you something.”
You think about Stevie’s advice, to not tell him today. The doctor saying not to overwhelm him. You know they’re right. You don’t want to. The poor bloke is probably already stressed enough as it is. You want to be here for Jamie, to help him get better because even with your limited experience around him, you care very deeply about his wellbeing. And maybe your feelings are skewed by the crush you’ve been harboring on him, but that’s hardly the point anymore. 
But how are you supposed to keep this up? Pretending to be someone you’re not, filling a role in his life that isn’t truly yours—it feels wrong, no matter how much you want to help him heal.
You don’t think you’re cut out for pretending. 
Jamie looks at you expectantly, a small smile on his face and your heart just breaks. 
“Jamie… I don’t know how to say this,” you admit, your throat tightening. “But I’m not your girlfriend.”
For a second, Jamie looks beyond confused. “The fuck? Did we break up?”
“I got the call today,” you explain gently, shrinking down into the sofa with a racing heart. “When I heard you were in the hospital, I was worried—God, I was worried—but I didn’t understand why they called me. And then Roy said… he said we’d been going out.” You bite your lip, carefully choosing your next words. “It made me realize something had gone wrong. That maybe you hit your head and got things mixed up.”
Jamie doesn’t say anything, his brows knitting together as he processes your words.
“I wanted to do what was best for you,” you continue, your voice growing quieter. “Everyone kept telling me not to startle you, not to stress you out. But I can’t keep pretending we’re in a relationship when we’re not. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel honest. “I care about you, Jamie. I care about you getting better. But I can’t pretend, okay? I’m really, really sorry.””
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It’s been nearly two days since you’ve seen or heard from Jamie. You’d practically bolted after your admission, your chest tight with guilt and your hands trembling as you no longer felt worthy of being in his home.
You hadn’t looked back, and he hadn’t stopped you.
It’s all you think about as you sit in the kitchen with your morning coffee, trying your best to catch up on the emails about work that have been piling up while you wallow.
Your work is interrupted when the doorbell rings. 
You immediately think it’s Stevie; she’s been wanting to see you since you had texted and said that you couldn’t even last the night without telling Jamie the truth. You purposefully left out the parts where Jamie pointed out the crocheting for Roman, and the gloves, and the sunhat, and Jamie just noticing you. God knows Stevie will be the first person to jump up and say he’s in love with you, and you’re not ready for that delusion in your head to be spoken out into the universe. 
Especially after Jamie has not spoken to you since. He’s probably freaked out, never wanting to speak to you for as long as he possibly can. 
You close your laptop and head to your front door, not even bothering to check who may be on the other end because—duh—it’s Stevie. 
Only, it’s not her. 
Instead, three boys stand on the opposite end of your door, gaping at you from the moment you lay eyes on them. 
They look vaguely familiar to you, and judging but the sweatsuits they’re wearing with the AFC Richmond logo, they’re Jamie’s teammates. You swallow your anxiety and give them a confused look.
“You’re real,” the man in the middle says, tall and broad with a commanding presence.. 
“Shut up, bruv,” the man to the right elbows the other. “We don’t even know if it’s her. ‘Could be the girl two houses down…”
“Mi amor,” says the final man, eyes light. His warm, melodic voice is unmistakably Spanish, holding up a bottle of wine like a peace offering. “What’s your name?”
You frown, wanting to ask so many questions when a shout intercepts the trio that has lined up at your door. 
“Oi!” 
They boys all turn, and you manage to peek your head out the door, to see Jamie stomping down the steps of his home, clad in sweats and… cow slippers? 
Despite the grumpy set of his face, the sight is almost endearing.
“Jamie!” the trio chorus in unison, like they’ve been caught red-handed.
“You didn’t answer the door,” one of them says, “we figured you’d be at your beautiful lady’s.”
“Don’t mean you can go knocking on doors of people you don’t fucking know,” huffs Jamie, finally reaching them. He doesn’t spare you a glance. 
The boys look ashamed. “We’re sorry, bruv,” says the tallest one, voice gruff and guilty. “Dani made Birria tacos, and Colin’s brought fuzzy socks. I just wanted to say sorry for whacking ya.”
Jamie’s eyes soften at his words. He sighs. “Thank you, mate. I appreciate it, I really do. But I stand by what I fuckin’ said. You can’t go knocking at random doors.”
“But it’s not random!” says the boy you’ve deduced to be Colin. For the first time since they’ve knocked, he turns to you in acknowledgement. “It’s lovely to meet you!” 
“The flowers are gorgeous,” says Dani, eyes g;azing dutifully at your front lawn. “And we apologize for the interruption.”
Jamie nods at them, like a mother watching over their child at the playground after a petty fight breaks out. 
You grin, awkwardness dissolvong. “It's okay. And—I love birria tacos, by the way. Good choice.”
Dani blushes. “I’m sure Jamie wouldn’t mind sharing it with his lady. Wouldn’t  you, Jamie?”
Jamie sputters, looking between the boys, and sparing you the first glance since he’s got here. His mouth opens, then closes. Repeatedly. 
“Um,” you interject, “I would much rather let Jamie enjoy it. Thank you, though!”
Isaac frowns. “That’s how you’re gonna treat your girl?” he grumbles at Jamie. 
“She said it!” argues Jamie. “Not me!”
Isaac shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about no chivalry these days, but he claps Jamie on the shoulder. “Alright, bruv, we’ll get outta your hair. Just make sure you enjoy the tacos. And, uh…” he glances at you with a cheeky grin, “Be nice to your lady, yeah?”
Jamie groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Colin pipes up, “It was lovely meeting you!” His voice is warm and genuine, and he flashes you a smile before jogging after Isaac, who is already halfway down the steps.
Dani lingers a moment longer, holding out the wine bottle to Jamie. “You deserve this,” he says with a knowing smile, his gaze flicking between you and Jamie.
Jamie takes the bottle “Thanks.”
“And don’t worry, we won’t knock on any more random doors. Adiós, mi amigos!” Dani trots after the others.
And then it’s just the two of you.
“‘M really fucking sorry ‘bout them. I didn’t think they’d come knocking at your door when I decided to fucking ignore them.” He stares down at the endearing cow faces at his feet, sighing.
You shrug, a harmless smile tugging at your lips. Jamie looks awfully nervous, which you don’t understand. “Makes sense, honestly. And I don’t mind. Now that you’re here, though, I just wanna ask how you’re doing.”
He looks briefly surprised. “I’m doing alright,” he says eventually. 
“Okay, because I never intend to pry, but I’ve just been pretty worried. And—“
“You don’t need to pretend to care.”
The abruptness of Jamie’s cutoff has you wondering whether or not it actually occurred. His frown, however, only solidifies that those words did indeed come from his mouth. 
“Excuse me?” you reply, voice sharper than intended.
“Listen, I was a fuckin’ idiot and a borderline creep to you. When you left, I really thought about it and how fucked up that whole day was. I can’t imagine how it made you feel; being put into a position where you had to be in a relationship with me.”
You frown. You wonder now if this is why Jamie has chosen not to speak to you; if his guilt for the situation has kept him from reaching out. You refuse for that to be a reality. 
“Jamie, are you serious? I just wanted you to be okay! And that’s still what I want for you.”
His eyes peek up from his slippers to you. “… So you don’t hate me?”
You laugh. “I have no reason to hate you, Jamie.”
“You have every reason to believe that I’m a stalker-creep, by the way!”
You raise an eyebrow. “Do you want me to see you as one?”
“Obviously fucking not!
“Then stop trying to drill it into my head!” you laugh. 
Jamie stares at you for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like he wants to argue but can’t find the words. Finally, he lets out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. There’s a flicker of vulnerability in his expression, softened by the small. And, for the first time in days, the tension between you feels like it’s starting to ease.
“If it’s not obvious,” he begins awkwardly, “I like you. A lot.” He laughs at himself. “Enough to reach stalker status. And clearly my fucking fantasies wanted to take over with me fucking head… but I wanted to do it all the right way. ‘Kinda cheated didn’t I?”
For the first time in two days, the churning in your stomach isn’t anxiety, and instead something entirely more manageable. You grin at him, teasing, “Maybe a little.”
He huffs a laugh, the sound a mix of relief and something hopeful. His eyes meet yours, more sure now, though his voice remains gentle when he says, “I want to do it right. All of it. If you’ll let me.”
The way he looks at you—open, expectant, like he’s giving you the choice and trusting you to give the truest response.
Your smile says everything he needs to know.
(You already know Stevie’s going to lose her mind when you tell her.)
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that-hazbin · 2 days ago
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Immortal Alastor AU, Lucifer has very nearly exhausted every one of his ideas in attempting to murder this unkillable twink. He's tired and more than a little irritated at this point. Alastor sits in front of him, covered in his own blood, tied with angelic rope onto a nailed-down steel chair. Apparently, sticking a bunch of knives in him and leaving them doesn't work— Alastor's regeneration just pushes the knives out. They're just staring at each other, one very amused, and the other decidedly not.
Lucifer: Have I even done anything no one else has tried on you?
Alastor: Well, some of the magical rituals are new, but otherwise, no.
Lucifer: Some of??
Lucifer just decides fuck it, I'll try actually talking to this guy and see if I can glean any information. Because, well, he's being a surprisingly good sport about the whole murder attempts thing.
Lucifer: ... Why do you just. Never scream. Do you not feel pain?
Alastor: Oh, I do, I just got so used to it that at this point my brain stopped registering it as something bad. In any case, you really haven't done anything too crazy. I mean, I've been cremated alive before.
Lucifer: YOU'VE BEEN— oh fuck is this your hell. Did big guy up top decide that you deserved a special kind of punishment and cursed you with your own personal version of hell??? What the fuck—
Alastor: Oh! No, no, you're mistaken. Well, I suppose it was hell at first, but I've grown to quite enjoy the pain. Honestly, if anything, I'm just rather bored; although, you certainly brought a little variety! Truly, this game of ours has been rather entertaining!
Lucifer: ... You know, I'm, like, older than the concept of time itself, so I think I can actually understand your perspective. Alright, I'll start asking around for some... creative ideas. Maybe the sins could think of some things I haven't. Same time next week?
Alastor: Oh, yes, that would be lovely!
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catboycumgutters · 1 day ago
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step 1.a: raise your children in isolation so that you can (as much as possible) control the information they receive and shape their worldview. as a failsafe, teach them that it's a good thing to be different; other people might not understand and make fun of you (but that's okay bc you're a mini martyr for jesus). pity them. they don't understand how the world works, like you do. luckily you're safe here with us; we understand; we support you. (seek out those in transitory phases of their lives or otherwise vulnerable. give them Answers they're looking for [where do we come from? what's the meaning of life? where are we going? can i ever feel less [bad feeling] for XYZ?]. give them support networks [only within the church]. give them community. welcome them warts and all. give them responsibility [their own place in the community; the feeling of being needed]).
step 1.b (this is the sneakiest part of the brainwashing): teach them the Correct Conclusion. teach them that they SHOULD question things, actually! this will strengthen your faith! if you have a question, study the scriptures and meditate in prayer and The Spirit will guide you to the Conclusion (confirmation bias reinforcing the things you taught in 1.a). this is how cult victims (unconsciously!) twist their entire worldview into a pretzel that leads to the same place as other members.
cult rhetoric is insidious. cult victims are not stupid. it could happen to you.
Thinking about that time Joseph Smith held a conference where he was supposed to perform miracles and then his miracles straight up didn’t work
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cheshireliam · 9 hours ago
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"Wrapped in Wicked Romance" Story Event: Chapter 1
Ring Schwartz
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This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.
Read this before interacting
Kate: Why did you… kill them…?
Ring: “Why”...? Is it not natural? 
Ring: I’ll kill anyone as long as Dari orders me to.
His face, splattered with blood, showed not even the slightest bit of doubt about the murder he just committed.
It was at that moment when I finally realised it.
He, too— was utterly evil. 
One night, I stumbled upon a secret I never should've known, which led to me becoming Fairytale Keeper for a month.
A week after, Vogel, an organisation consisting of Cursed Ones similar to Crown, appeared and seemed to be hiding something. 
A few days after my encounter with them, I was called upon by Vogel’s chief— Darius. 
Darius: I’ve heard about it. To deepen your understanding of Crown’s members, you became their lover for a day.
Darius: We want you to do the same thing with us. The kind Miss Fairytale Keeper will surely agree to it, right? 
Unable to make the decision on my own, I quickly went to discuss it with Victor. 
Victor: Lovers for a day with Vogel? 
Kate: Yes. They also mentioned that they want me to show them around the city at the same time. 
Victor: I see… I don't have a problem with that arrangement. I happen to also have been thinking about giving them a tour of the city. 
Victor: What are your thoughts, Kate?
Kate: I… I can't stop thinking about what Harrison said to me that day. 
Victor: That Vogel is lying, is it?
Victor: I understand your concern, but we still can’t say for certain whether their lies are harmful to Crown. 
Victor: I doubt that they would be so reckless as to harm you in this situation. Therefore… 
Victor: The most important factor we should consider is what you want to do.
(What I want to do…?) 
(Victor did say he'd turn them down if I don't feel comfortable, but…)
(Since I’m going to have interactions with Vogel as a Fairytale Keeper, I’m personally curious about what kind of people the three of them are.) 
(So in order to find out… I’ll accept this request.)
(But before that…)
Kate: Excuse me, who is that tailing me? 
Ever since I left Victor’s office, I’ve had the gut feeling that someone was following behind me. 
When I voiced it out, a man emerged from the shadows.
Kate: Ring…? 
I called his name, although I still wasn't used to doing that because he only said very recently that I could address him as such without the use of salutations. 
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Ring: Y-you misunderstood. I didn't mean to tail you today.
Ring: There’s something I want to ask you about… I just couldn't figure out when to approach you.
Kate: … Something you want to ask?
Ring: I wanted to ask who you’re choosing to be your lover for a day. 
Kate: Umm… and what do you intend to do with that information? 
Ring: Depending on whether you choose Nica or Dari, I’ll need to change my route and method for being their escort for security purposes. 
Ring: With the close, intimate distance of being “lovers”... who knows what tricks you’ll pull on the two of them. 
It appeared that Ring was wary of me and planned to protect them regardless of who I chose.
(Hm? But in that case…) 
Kate: What happens to the whole escort planning thing if I choose you to be my “lover”?
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Ring: ME!? 
Ring: I- I don’t understand… Normally, either Nica or Dari would be chosen for this sort of thing. You don't need to consider such a possibility. 
Kate: But Darius said to choose “one member from Vogel”. 
Kate: So choosing you isn't a problem, right?
Ring: I-it’s a HUGE problem…! M-me as your l-lo-lov-lover…!? 
… Initially, I asked the question because I was genuinely curious how he intended to go about the escorting. 
But seeing Ring turning bright red and panicking sparked a mischievous impulse in me.
Kate: I’ve decided! I’m choosing you as my lover for a day.
Ring: WHAT!? You absolutely CANNOT do that! 
Darius: Really? I think that's a wonderful idea, though. 
The voice cutting into our exchange was Darius, who happened to be passing by.
Ring: D-Dari… why?
Darius: Somehow, it sounds like it’d be interesting. 
Ring: But what if she “cajoles¹” me into doing her bidding…!? 
¹ The word for “cajole” is 篭絡 (ろうらくrōraku). Here, when Ring’s says it, it was written in hiragana as “ろーらく” to express that his pronunciation of the word wasn't very accurate; possibly because his first language is german and not english. 
Darius: You know such a complex phrase as “cajole”? Good job, good job. 
Darius: But don’t worry. Miss Fairytale Keeper could never be a threat to us.
Darius: Have I ever been wrong about such things? 
Ring: … Never.
Darius: Then there's no problem at all. 
Darius: Go on, Ring. Pass auf dich auf (have a great day²). 
² For the record, I don't understand German at all. I’m only translating based on the Japanese translation provided by the game in the form of furigana.
As soon as Darius said something to him in their native language, Ring became obedient like a well-trained guard dog. 
Ring: … Alles klar (understood). 
The next day, I became Ring’s lover for a day and was tasked to give him a tour of the city.
Kate: I look forward to spending the day with you. 
Ring: … Oh, uh, yeah. Dari ordered me to “pretend to be Miss Fairytale Keeper’s lover for a day”. 
Ring: Going on a… d… da… date… with you… I- I’ll do it just fine. Just you watch…! 
(Ring looks extremely nervous…)
I was a little nervous myself, but seeing how tense he was actually made me feel better. 
Ring: S-so… the first destination is The Scala, right?
Kate: Yes. Since it’s a date, I decided to take you to some of my favourite places today. 
Kate: We could take a carriage there, but the weather is pleasant today. Shall we walk instead?
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Ring: … Got it. Also, um… 
Ring looked like there was something he wanted to say as he stretched his right arm out in my direction. 
Kate: …?
Ring: Ah! No… nothing. T-this is just me warming up! 
He pulled his arm back and started rolling his shoulders in circles.
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old-fandom · 2 days ago
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I really really REALLY want to see some good ol' Jealousy Stancest, especially Jealous Stanford. Add in a dash of some old flames and a secret relationship, and it gets real juicy.
Picture this. Stan and Ford come home after months on the Stan o' War II, being in an incredibly passionate and intimate relationship with each other. The open sea gave them the privacy to be a couple without the fear of others finding out. However, once back in Gravity Falls, Stan and Ford come to understanding that they have to keep their relationship on the down low around the family and the kids. They understand what they are doing and don't want to drag others into it by accident, so they tell themselves they will keep their relationship strictly platonic in public.
While settling back home and the kids arriving, Soos (who is still Mr. Mystery as Stan does not want to take away Soos' role as the curator of the Mystery Shack) gets some unsuspecting visitors, demanding to speak to Stanley Pines. Not Stanford Pines, STANLEY PINES!
This obviously raises some alarms in Soos as that kind of information is still relatively new to the town and even newer to the outside world. The kids end up hearing this and run to Ford. They tell him that two very scary men just walked in asking for Stan. Ford, who has been told all about Stan's past while out at sea, believes that these are some of his old enemy's coming to hurt him.
Mabel describes one of them as a tall bulky blonde man with a leather jacket, a handle bar mustache, and dark sunglasses. She describes the other one as shorter, stockier, and speaking with a thick Spanish accent. They both look mean and cold, and obviously tough enough to start and finish a fight. Dipper pipes in saying that they don't look like they like each other too, like they're waiting for the other to say something to start an argument and fight. Ford goes out there to confront the two men. As Ford approaches them, demanding that they state their business with his brother or leave, they're both shook, as Ford looks like Stan but isn't. They have an argument, one that scares all of the other customers out of the store and has Soos leave the gift shop and hover near the kids.
Before long, Stan enters the gift shop in freezes. All eyes lock on him.
Stan is looking at two faces he never thought he'd see again, Jimmy Snakes and Rico. The tension is thick and before Ford can pull out his gun to force the two men out and away from his family, both men start yammering to Stan but more importantly, they start confessing.
You see, what Stan did not tell Ford, or anyone else for that matter, is that Stan dated both Jimmy and Rico at one point of his life. They weren't just past enemy's (or in Jimmy's case, "friends" with benefits), but past lovers as well. (Sue me, Rico being Stan's boyfriend in Colombia would be funny. Also, Stan hiding from Rico's men would be a lot less gory if these men weren't trying to actually kill Stan but to bring him back to Rico as a runaway boyfriend.) Stan is very confused, the kids are very confused, and Ford is very confused and enraged.
Through their confessions, it comes to light that both men heard the news of Stanley Pines basically saving Gravity Falls last summer, both proving that he was alive and that he was still up to his old tricks. They both drove up to Oregon to get back with Stan, but only for their own selfish reasons, which they don't tell Stan. They see that Stan has become a town "hero" and they believe that he has been awarded in some way, specifically monetarily. They believe that if they can get back with him, that money could be theirs. However, upon meeting each other on the way up there and realizing their plans are the same, grew serious animosity toward each other. Killing each other before arriving at Gravity Falls didn't work, so now they have to try and woo Stan in some competition to get his money.
Stan is not stupid, he knows these men, and he knows what they are after (or at least understands that they are after something other than him.) He's telling them to take a hike, and they're trip up here was in vain, that "No, finding out I was alive after 30 years did not make your heart skip a beat. You want something. I'm not stupid." Stan is more than capable handling these men on his own.
Ford is obviously very angry by this and tells them both to get the hell out. They aren't listening to him and Rico fully insults Ford, which is the catalyst for a right hook to the face.
I'm not sure what happens next but I do know that Ford ends up chasing both of them out of the Shack, beating them up quite extensively to give them a real reason to not come back. Probably on the porch threatening their lives if they ever came back and tried to harm Stan or his family ever again. Blah Blah Blah, Stan gets all goo-goo eyed for his boyfriend being so protective of him even if he is a little peeved at being rescued. Blah Blah Blah, Ford needs to release some of the adrenaline from that fight, excuses himself and Stan to the basement for a "talk". Blah Blah Blah, Stan can't walk probably for an hour after being fucked so viciously by Ford.
I honestly don't know where this was going but I love Protective Ford (Stancest or Platonic) and I love him going ham for Stan.
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raccoonrobyn-imagines · 14 hours ago
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Danny whined as His New Adult held him close as he walked towards somewhere "safe". He didn't really mean to, it just came out cause one of his cuts was pressed on a little too firmly, and he immediately went completely still, hoping that Mr. Red Hood didn't hear him. Mr. Red Hood thankfully just held him in a slightly different position so his hurts wouldn't be pressed on anymore.
Danny just curled into His New Adult more after that.
-----
Hundreds of miles away, Jazz Fenton is beating the shit out of many different GIW goons who were trying to get her to tell them where her baby brother was. Despite her awful aim, she is muscled and tall and trained by Pandora. With a creep stick in hand and a fierce yet grim scowl, she beats the last one into a pulp, and stands up fully. "Are any of you going to tell me what this was truly about? Because my brother isn't in your purview. You deal with Ghosts, not teenage boys."
After a few seconds pass of complete silence, she kicks one of the ones remaining that's still conscious with almost bone breaking force.
That one finally coughs up a weak "We know he's Phantom. We need to capture all Ghosts."
Jazz's scowl deepens and with a near ghostly echoing snarl, she replies. "You have all just signed your death warrant then. It doesn't matter that Danny said he would be the one to take care of you all. It doesn't matter that you're technically with the government. What matters is that you just attempted to make me hand over information that would end up killing My Brother."
Jazz grins, sharp and bloody and filled with pin point precision malice onto the ones that they work for.
"You might know that Danny is partially a Ghost. You all failed to understand one thing though."
The woman, no, The Beasts smile grew larger and larger, and her eyes were a bright toxic green, but they were just teal? Weren't they? Or were they always fully green? What?
"You forgot that while My Brother is half ghost, I am close behind. I am as liminal as you can ever get without dying like he did. And now? You are attempting to stop me from fulfilling My Obsession."
The Beasts giggle is ready and sharp and the sound of a home burning with people inside. The sound takes a moment for the agents to place, but once they do? They realize exactly who they are hearing trapped in that building. It's their family. It's their family and what they knew to be Jazz Fentons true laughter, untouched by this Ghostly Echo.
"I will ensure that your entire group burns for this. I will ensure that no one will ever try to hurt My Family ever again."
The Beast reaches into her purse on her countertop, and pulls out... how the fuck did they not know that she had that weapon? Where the fuck did she get a serated hunting knife that's as long as her arm?!
"No One Will Ever Touch My Baby Ever Again."
DcxDp
Danny is living on the streets in Crime Alley the main issue is that he was deaged into a six year old by the GIW and had to run. The Fenton Parents were across the country at a ghost hunter's convention and Jazz was away at college. Danny's been on the streets for a few weeks now, his phone was broken during his escape meaning no contact with Sam and Tucker.
Red Hood had just finished a report on a joint case with the other bats concerning a drug ring trying to set up in Gotham and Crime Alley, when this tiny six year old with a white shock in his black hair and bright blue eyes and old bandages from multiple injuries popped out of a dumpster holding a pack of unopened hot dogs that were only a day passed the sell by date.
The two immediately make eye contact and Danny just slams the lid on the dumpster and wiggles intangibly out of a rusted out hole on the back of the dumpster and runs when his intangiblity flickers and fails as soon as he's out. Jason isn't exactly sure what he saw for a moment but when he realized what happened he's immediately on the search for his tiny doppelganger.
Jason snatched up the little kid. For a moment, he paused to think, ‘Am I seriously kidnapping a kid?’ before he recollected his thoughts and explained to himself, ‘Yes, because this kid needs help.’
The kid wriggled in his hands, frowning and pouting. He kicked his little legs as he cried out, "Kidnapper! Kidnapper! Help! Someone help!"
"Kid, where are your parents?" Jason asked. He held the struggling kid and brought him closer to his chest.
Something like an electric current from static buildup zapped between them. Jason flinched and the boy stilled.
Then he went quiet and sniffled, cuddling closer to Jason's chest plate, rubbing his chubby cheek against the bat-symbol there.
Jason awkwardly moved his face away from his taser and asked again, "Kid, where are your parents?"
"... gone," he mumbled. "My sista can't find me."
Jason gently patted his back, bringing him closer into a hug. The kid buried himself closer and Jason wondered if his initial fight was due to fear or something. "What's your name?"
"... Danny."
"Okay, Danny. Let's find your sister, okay? Want to come with me?"
Danny nodded silently and Jason resisted the urge to smile and coo. He was quite cute, with his pouty expression and teary eyes. Jason used his thumb to rub away at some dirt on his cheek before adjusting his hold on him.
"Alright, kiddo, what can you tell me about your sister?"
——
Danny stared at the strange, liminal man who was afflicted with ectoplasmic rot, as he went on a vague tangent about Jazz.
He was pretty sure that Jazz and his friends were already searching for him, since he had been gone for awhile now.
He was also pretty sure that if he gave up too much information, this man would've been able to find her too quickly, which prevented Danny from giving him the help that he needed.
Danny sighed.
Who knew that after he would be deaged, he'd have to adopt a grown man?
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