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#it was just a side effect?? or i will have to bring it up with my psychiatrist next month?? jesus christ man
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Amity parkers are feral and insane
-Gothamites.
Somehow, someway, Casper high finds their selves in Gotham.
It could be a field trip or a ghost shoved them in a portal, doesn't matter, they're in Gotham.
As they arrive in Gotham, the Casper teachers decide to turn this into something educational and hire a tour guide from Gotham Academy (or was it Gotham university? I forgot) GA agrees and also Sends some of their students to partner up with the amity parkers as a sort "buddy" and to hopefully teacher em the ways of surviving in Gotham.
To the gothamites, the amity parkers look like children who have never been exposed to crime in their life, never been mugged, never been been kidnapped.
But the truth is, compared to the BS amity is used to, Gothams issues are like kindergarten.
First thing the tour guide hears when she greets Casper high Mr lancer telling them to, "Please don't walk into danger, please don't try and provoke the joker, I know he's a bitch but still. If you find yourself in a tricky situation, do not hesitate to punch yourself to freedom, but ABSOLUTELY NO CRITICAL HITs these are NORMAL people they're not like us or the ghosts, they will not survive. Please do not give phantom problems, He's already failing in class he doesn't need more problems"
Its important to keep in mind that:
amity parkers and ghosts are buddies now.
The Ambient ectoplasm gave them a form of super strength, also making it so that they are able to touch ghost.
They join the ghost brawls everyone in a while and has some wins.
Most, if not all are liminal in a way.
Everyone knows that Danny is phantom but have signed an NDA that says they aren't allowed to tell anyone who isn't a native amity parker who he is.
Things is, The gothamites don't know about this and take it as if Mr lancer and the students are underestimating Gotham. So as a from of pettiness, all the Gotham students decided to bring their amity partner to the most dangerous places they can think of.
Niky has lead sam into a park that poison ivy frequents. Of course, poison ivy is there but instead of running away in fear like niky expected, Sam runs up to ivy, complements her and joins the path of eco terrorism.
Tucker and his partner Vic finds himself in the middle of a riddler attack, locked in a room with no way out, a countdown timer with 20 secs remaining and a riddle in a computer.
Vic is panicking as he tries to figure it out, he looked to tucker for help. Tucker just shrugged and hacked the computer, not even bothering to solve the riddle. It worked and Vic is baffled and the riddler is frustrated.
Danny find himself in the hands of the joker, (his partner ran the moment joker was seen) hanging upside down on top of a large pool of acid, because, it's classic for joker. He is also being live streamed.
The teachers in GA are panicking, the bats are panicking.
Casper high teacher took one look at the stream and shrugged. "Eh, he'll be fine." They also called the number that joker has displayed on the screen, just to say, "Daniel Fenton, make sure your back before in GA 6 pm or else were leaving you to find the hotel on your own."
The time is 5:30 pm.
It takes 25 minutes to walk from Joker to GA.
Danny sighs, might as well start walking.
He uses intangibility to free himself and fall into the vat of acid.
The Gothamites are shocked and screaming, the bats are shocked. Amity parkes went "oh" and continued placing bets on how fast Danny will get back.
Danny then proceeds to swim out of the acid pool, punch the joker in the face, knocking him out in a single hit and then proceeds to casually squeeze out the acid from his Casper high "I am a proud amitian" shirt as if it's regular water.
All of this was done in 5 minutes.
All of this was caught on stream.
The Gothamites are passed out, the bats are questioning everything. Batman is searching up everything he can about acid side effects and about Danny but ends up with nothing.
The amity parkers just raised their bets even further.
Danny somehow makes it back 10 minutes late and Wes wins the bet.
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ebodebo · 1 day
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summary: the cia is going against taskforce 141, making ghost a fugitive. unfortunately, he gets hurt and a detective takes him to a near by hospital, that an old friend happens to work at.
pairing: ghost x f!reader
a/n: hello! i am back..ik i'm literally only writing for ghost, but i can't help it he's so ughhh anyways i can't take credit for this bc a bestie of mine (@callsign-artemis) randomly just sent me the idea and i loved it! so, here she is! hopefully you enjoy:)
word count: 2.3k+
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The Fugitive
"Hey, Marcey, I don't suppose you could squeeze one in the schedule?" Detective Marsh's voice rang in the matte black Dodge Charger he sat in. 
She huffed out. "John." 
"I know. I know." He quickly supplied, sparing a look to the backseat, where an injured, bleeding Ghost sat. "But, this one is messed up pretty bad." He could feel Marcey roll her eyes. "They usually are "messed up pretty bad." She said, quoting his words.
"Honey." He sighed. "I know the guy. He's a friend." He exhaled. Marcey paused for a moment. "Okay. I have a doctor on rotation who's available." She finally said. "But, this is it. I can't keep doing favors just because your boys flubbed up." 
"And you won't have to anymore because, effective immediately, I'm firing Jensen and Miles." He states. "It's too much Goddamned paperwork. Gives me a headache." He says while bringing one hand to rub his temple, the other gripping the steering wheel. 
"Good for you, boss," Marcey emphasizes the last word, causing Detective Marsh to let out a gruff laugh. "Park in the back when you get here." She stated, swiftly typing on her computer. 
"I'm outside. In the front." He confessed. "Of course you are." Marcey sighed. "I'll be right there." 
Detective Marsh looks up at the rearview mirror, carefully observing Ghost. "Does it hurt?" Detective Marsh questioned.
"What do you think?" Ghost snarkily said, his voice deep and gravely, as he held his bleeding side. Detective Marsh gave him a light laugh. "Stupid question." He confirmed. 
Marcey appeared through the revolving doors that led into the hospital. She carefully knocked on the driver's side of the Dodge, where Detective Marsh sat. 
"You seriously couldn't have parked in the back. You are going to scare my patients." She crosses her arms as she opens his car door. "This was closer. I'm sorry." He said, unbuckling his seatbelt, then stepping out of the car. "He's in the backseat." He opens the backseat, revealing Ghost. 
"Oh my-" Marcey begins inspecting his bloody side before beckoning the two nurses she brought. "What the hell happened?" She questions, hands on her hips, moving aside so the nurses can get him out of the car, though he stubbornly swats them away to get out on his merit. 
"From what I know, the guys were in pursuit, and they found him all bent to hell." He shrugs. 
"That's what they told you? Jensen and Miles?" She skeptically asks as Ghost begrudgingly allows the nurses to get him out of the car. He nods. "I know. I know. I'm going out to get a full report from some pedestrians at the scene." He grips her shoulder a bit. "Might not answer my phone for a bit. I already know the DA got wind of this. So, he's going to be busting my balls and the entire PD's for the next week or so." He kisses her temple before getting back into his car.
"No need to worry, John. We'll take care of him." She smiles.
He smiles back, closing his door. Before he pulls away, he rolls his window down. "Also, I forgot to mention, he's wanted by the CIA, so this place might be swarmed with suits. Love you, bye." He swiftly states as Marcey's face contorts. "Wait. Wha—" she begins, but he pulls off before she can rain her terror on him. 
Marcey curses before she turns to the nurses heading inside the hospital. "Unfortunately, we'll have to take him through the lobby since my husband decided he was too lazy to spring for the extra yards around' the back. Just take him to the OR." Both nurses nod and attempt to grab Ghost. 
"I can walk," he proclaims as he stumbles to the revolving doors. Marcey stares at the nurses. "Just make sure he doesn't fall on his way." She lightly waves them towards him. 
"The OR is this way, sir." One of the nurses steps in front of him, leading him towards a big metal door. 
All three of them pushed through the door and immediately are met with the room's cold air. "Just lay on the bed. Careful not to lay on your right side," one of the nurses chimed. 
"Got it." He grits as he carefully lays himself on the bed, positioned on his back. "What hospital am I at?" Ghost questions, gripping his side. 
"Highlands Medical," one nurse answers as she gets his IV drip ready. He makes a thoughtful expression. "Don't suppose Y/N still works here? Huh?"
"Oh yeah. Dr. Y/L/N. She still works here. Has been for a couple of years, actually." The nurse quickly finds his vein and gently sticks the IV in his arm. "I want her." He plainly states.
"Sorry, she has another patient at the moment. Dr. Brazo is great, though."
"No." He looks at the nurse. "I want her."
The nurses look at each other for a moment. "I'm sorry, but unfortunately—" He is quick to pull his IV out. 
"What are you-" The nurse questions. "You can't leave." The other nurse chimes as Ghost sits up, gritting his teeth as he feels his side ache. "I told you. I want her." He pauses. "And if I can't have her, I'm leaving."
They eye each other once again. "Okay, okay. Just lay back. I'll go get her." He narrows his eyes. "I will," she assures him. He gently lies back as the nurse once again sticks his IV in his arm. 
Before the nurse could leave, there was a knock at the door, followed by an intense voice. "PD," the voice said, opening the door. It was three police officers. "Simon Riley?" one asked, looking at Ghost, to which he nodded. 
"Gonna' have to handcuff you." He strolled over to the bed, pulling out his handcuffs and cuffing him to either side of the bed. "We're also gonna' have to stay in here." Two police officers stood in front of the door, and the other moved closer to Ghost's bed.
"Isn't this a bit overkill?" One nurse said as she grabbed Ghost's chart. "Direct orders," the officer who handcuffed him said. "Well, I need to go get the doctor. I can leave, right?" The two police officers by the door stepped aside and let her slip through.
The nurse made her way to room 104, where you were, gently knocking on the door. "Sorry to interrupt, Dr. Y/L/N. Can I speak to you for a moment?" You raised your brow, issuing an apology to your patient before stepping outside. 
"What's going on?" you ask, crossing your arms. "Well, we have a guy in the OR. He's uh... he's requested you." The nurse hands over his chart.
"No name?" You say, examining the blank name section of the chart. "He won't talk much. So, we just wrote down where he was injured." The nurse looks at you. "Did you tell him I was busy with another patient?" You hand the nurse the chart back. "Yes, several times, but he threatened to leave. Even pulled out his IV." The nurse let out a little laugh
You titled your head. "Call Dr. Lindley. She can take over this patient; she owes me." You grab the chart again. "In the OR, yes?" The nurse nods. You glance over the chart again before opening the door to your patient. "I'm sorry, Ms. Lawson. There is an emergency in the OR. But Dr. Lindley will be here shortly. I have sent her your charts so she knows your condition. Again, I apologize for the inconvenience." You earnestly say, but to your surprise, she seems fine with the change. 
You step out of room 104 with the nurse by your side and notice the influx of police in the lobby. "What the hell is going on?" You turn to the nurse with you. "I'm not sure, but earlier, three police officers came in the OR. I think they're still there." You breathe out and head towards the big metal door, though you are unable to open it.
"Excuse me. I need in." You raise your voice, knocking on the cold metal. The door is instantly opened, and he meets you.
"Simon." You question observing his disheveled state. 
"Hey, doc." You cringe at his voice. It was deep and rough. Commanding. It spliced through the air and demanded attention. It was the same, but slightly different than the voice you heard all those years ago.
"What happened to you?" You walk over to him, assessing his side.
"Got injured." He matter-of-factly proclaims.
You roll your eyes. "I see your sense of humor hasn't changed much." Your gaze travels to his hands, both glued to the bed and held by cuffs. "I can't work on him with cuffs," you remark, turning to the officers. "Sorry, I can't remove them," one says.
You frustratingly sigh. "I can't operate on him with handcuffs." You continue. "And if I don't operate on him, he'll bleed out and die." The officers glance at each other and then at Ghost.
"Don't worry, I'll be a good boy for the doctor." He remarks, the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smirks under his mask. "Fine, but don't try anything." One skeptically says, walking over to him and uncuffing both hands. 
You make your way over to him and carefully cut his shirt off, where his injury is. "So-" You begin, grabbing some iodine to clean the deep wound. "What's all this about? Are you a criminal now?" You question, gently laying some surgical drape over the area.
He shuddered at the direct contact, quietly cursing. "Sorry. It's going to hurt a little." You called for one of the nurses to grab the suture kit. "So, criminal?" You pushed again as the nurse handed you the kit.
He lets out a gruff laugh that tickles your ears. "No. Not a criminal." He pauses as you begin to use the kit to sew stitches under the skin. "It's complicated." He brusquely states. "Mhm. I see you're still the brooding, mysterious type. Huh?" You smile at him as his muscles contract at the needle going into his skin. 
"Brooding?" He huffs. You let out a laugh. "Very much so." You look up to notice he's staring at you. Your eyes instantaneously locked. It should feel awkward. There were five other people in there, but it felt like it was just the two of you at that moment. 
A knock at the door jolted you out of your daze. "Open the door," the voice on the other side demanded. The police in front of the door jumped but opened it a bit before opening it wider to accommodate the person.
"Christ. Why are all of you in here?" Detective Marsh gestures to all three officers. "You two sure as shit shouldn't be here." He gestures to the two officers standing in front of the door. "The DA has the whole departments ass because of you two." He wipes his hand across his jaw, which is covered in stubble. "Get out." He demands.
"But, sir-" One officer starts.
Detective Marsh's jaw tightens, causing both officers to hurry out the door. The last officer stands adjacent to where Ghost lays. "Sorry about that." Detective Marsh declares. He points at the remaining officer. "Come with me. I need backup downtown." The officer glances at Ghost. Detective Marsh rolls his eyes. "He's fine." The officer nods, and they head off. 
"Sweetheart." Ghost croaked. You look at him. "Your hand." He gestures to your hand resting on his side. "Sorry." You quickly pick up your gloved hand and reach for the saline to clean his wound. 
"I forgot I had a case scheduled today with Dr. Raines." You look up at the nurses. “Will you two go assist her?" They both nod and head out the door.
"Gotta' lot of patients today, doc." Ghost lifted a brow as you applied some antiseptic. "I thought they would have remembered that Dr. Raines is on maternity leave." You give him a cheeky smile.
"Wow. Lyin' to your coworkers? How insensitive." He sarcastically remarks as you snicker. "I just...I needed to talk to you." You confess, applying a large bandage to his side.
"In private?" You look up at him after you finish putting the bandage on. "In private," you confirm, gently pressing the bandage around the edges to secure it onto his skin. 
"What?" He tilted his head, taking notice of your silence. 
"I hate seeing you like this." You look up at him. "All bruised up."
"I'm fine." He assures, which makes you let out a laugh.
He tilts his head. "What's so funny?"
"You've always been so stubborn," you remark, absently stroking his thumb. “You never let anyone help you. You always want to do things on your own, even if you can't."
"I let you help me." He lifts his finger to graze yours gently. "I know. I'm glad you did." You smile. "So, will you tell me why all the cops are interested in you?" You question, raising a brow. "No. I think I'll stay brooding." He quips. "Simon Riley, did you just make a joke?" You exclaim, making him let out a laugh. 
You both sat there for a moment, falling into a comfortable silence. You knew you most likely wouldn't see him again, and he knew the same. It's just how your relationship worked with him. You see him once in a blue moon, and then he disappears off the face of the earth for what feel like an eternity.
You loved Simon, and he loved you, but you both knew a relationship beyond what you had currently couldn't work, especially with him being God knows where with God knows who. There are too many trials and tribulations involved. It's better to keep it simple and one-dimensional, something Simon Riley is not. 
"I'll have to nurse fill out your discharge papers." You finally break the silence, gently squeezing his hand. He nods.
You don't know what possessed you, but you find yourself bending down to kiss him. He's quick to kiss you back. You pull back and head to the door, holding it open.
"Goodbye, Simon."
"Goodbye, Sweetheart."
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taglist: @callsign-artemis @yuenity @sceletaflores @chonkaydonkay @gowno1wysrane @harpsinfinity @bleached-punk @babygirl-riley @IMASLUTFORFICTIONALMEN @contractedcriteria @lunars-somehow-alive @theloneshadow24 @minihotdog @mrs-marc-spector - hopefully most of these work now! <3
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renaault · 18 hours
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Drunk Nights
Charles Leclerc x Redbull driver reader
Warnings: Mentions of cheating, alcohol, and a hangover. Minors DNI.
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Charles had not the faintest idea how he found himself in this situation, but there you were, broken and bleeding, blind drunk. You had downed drink after drink, not wavering even as the alcohol slid down your throat, burning your blood. Why? Because you were trying to numb the pain inflicted upon you by your boyfriend — no, ex-boyfriend — when pictures of him and some nameless model had been leaked, left to go viral and spread to the deepest, darkest parts of the internet. It was bad enough that he had cheated, straying from your arms, but to do so in such a public manner was to rub salt in the wound. Said wound hurt, feeling so real and vivid that there had been no choice but to seek solace in the bottle.
Unfortunately, your former friend, Charles Leclerc, happened upon you once the alcohol took effect. During your childhood years, the two of you had been close. So much so that you had been thick as thieves. Where one went, the other followed, a fact that saw the two of you starting your karting careers side by side. Naturally, karting led to racing, but even the tightest of friendships did not survive on that particular grid. That was why you were forced apart, pulled to your respective teams — you to Red Bull and he to Ferrari. Even so, the sight of you, so uncharacteristically low, gave him pause.
“You’re a right mess,” Charles mused.
“Always so nice, Leclerc,” you shot back, leaning against the wall at your back. It offered a small form of stability, of support, leaving it as your last defense from collapsing. Perhaps that was for the best, though, for at least the alcohol had numbed your senses. The pain was mostly gone, having turned into nothing more than a small sting.
A light scoff escaped his mouth at that, because while harsh words had been thrown the last time you crossed paths, they had slipped from both of your mouths, making you just as at fault as he. “You’re wasted,” he breathed, taking a few tentative steps forward, lessening the distance.
“It’s a party,” you pointed out, leaning lazily against the wall. “Why aren’t you?”
An eye roll was given in response. He did not drink too much at parties, instead preferring to do so within the confines of his room. At least there, he could indulge himself without the paparazzi snapping a picture.
“You know why,” he shrugged, because you did. Then, you moved ever so slightly, causing a flash of ruby red to arise in his vision. He blinked once, twice, thrice before leaning forward, letting out a soft, barely perceptible breath. “What happened? The blood — is it yours?”
“What blood — oh,” you whispered, confusion lacing your features. You looked down, as if just now noticing the blood that coated your hands. “It’s mine . . . I think?”
“You think?” he repeated, wishing nothing more than to lean forward and take your hands in his. Restraint was practiced, though, because he did not wish to scare you off. “Just how much did you have to drink?”
“A lot.” Well, that much was clear, for you let out a soft, cheery laugh, your shoulders shaking with said laugh. You truly were a right mess, but you could not bring yourself to care. Not even when you stepped forward, aiming to continue on, away from him, but a wave of dizziness washed over you, causing you to oh so precariously sway. You stumbled, nearly making a disastrous descent to the ground, but before you could, he caught hold of you, his hands wrapping around your waist.
“Stop. You’re gonna hurt yourself more.”
And then you were laughing harder, louder, more forcibly. “Like you care.”
He did care, for despite all that had come to pass between you two, you were still a key figure in his life up until a few years ago. Honestly, he could not remember a time when you were not around in some capacity. To try to convince you that he cared would be a futile effort, though, which was why he held his tongue, remaining silent, quiet as a field mouse. His hold on you tightened, inadvertently bringing you closer. So close it was as though he was afraid you would vanish, would disappear into thin air. “What am I gonna do with you?” he whispered, more so to himself than you.
“C-could call me an Uber.”
And put your safety in the hands of a stranger? Not a chance. “No. You’re coming with me. I won’t leave you alone when you’re like this.”
“I’m not your problem, Leclerc,” you pointed out, trying to lean away from him, but his hold remained secure, steady.
“No, you’re not . . . but what kind of man would I be if I just left you here, alone, in this state?” This was about more than just being a gentleman, and deep down, he knew that. He did, but he could not bring himself to admit it.
You opened your mouth to protest, to object, but his expression was hard. So hard that you knew that to argue would be futile. Besides, you were not in a state to be arguing, which was why you let him lead you back to his hotel room. All the while, you had to lean against him lest you fall, finding yourself face down on the concrete. Once inside, he manuevered, carefully letting you fall onto the edge of the bed. There, you slumped down onto the snow-white sheets, exhaustion weighing you down. There was little room for your typical decorum, since your mind was muddied by the alcohol.
Slowly, he slid onto the bed beside you, his fingers finding their way into your hair. The same way they did when you were younger and not carrying the weight of your respective teams. “You’re an idiot, y’know. A senseless, careless idiot, even when you drive.”
“I’m bold when I drive.”
“Bold to the point of insanity,” he remarked. You were a good match for Max Verstappen, for you two were bold and brazen, carrying out moves that many on the grid would not even think of. “But that’s what got you the seat on the Red Bull team, hm?”
“Hm,” was all you could get out before your eyes slid closed, letting you drift off, going from the present to the oh so alluring land of dreams. His fingers stopped in your hair, allowing him to cover you in a blanket. Then, he stood up, rising from the bed in order to hunt down his first aid kit. It was there, hidden amidst his sea of luggage, but he managed to find it. Alcohol was pressed onto a cotton swab, a swab that was rubbed carefully, gently across your skin. Once the wounds were clean, he bandaged them, put the first aid kit away, and prepared for bed himself . . .
The next morning, you woke up in an unfamiliar hotel room, wrapped in arms that were simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, and the sight you were met with was shocking, to say the least. Before you lay Charles, sleeping peacefully. He looked beautiful like this, when his face was pure, relaxed. The thought caused heat to be birthed beneath your skin, heat that sent you reeling. Because you were no longer friends. You were rivals, adversaries battling for the spot at the top of the grid.
Hastily, you sat up, aiming to put distance between yourself and him. You moved too fast, though, because your muscles protested, sending pain through your form. It also woke Charles up, as shown by the groan that escaped his mouth.
“We didn’t . . .” you trailed off, sounding uncertain. “We didn’t do anything, right?” Right?
“Course not. You were out of your mind drunk,” he breathed, offering you at least a small bit of relief from the pain. A bottle of painkillers was then retrieved from his nightstand. “Here, take two.” A small moment of hesitation passed, then, “Why did you let me help you last night? After everything that’s happened, it’s obvious that you hate me. Yet . . . you let me take you back here.”
“I’ve known you long enough to know that you’re a decent person when it matters,” you whispered before making to leave. Little did you know that your words would linger at the forefront of his mind in the following days.
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ham1lton · 2 days
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013 with charles!
013. a great ballroom during an elegant party w/ CL16.
— part of a series of drabbles! <3
one day after classes, you had come home to see an unfamiliar elderly woman sitting with your mother in your small flat. your mother had placed her cup of tea down on the coffee table and introduced the lady as your grandmother, and as the current queen of the small kingdom of genovia.
thanks to that one night, you were now here at a genovian ball held in your honour but instead of being out on the floor and mingling with the guests, you had hid in an alcove. a side-effect of becoming the crown princess means a makeover. your hair had been styled to frame your face, and you were wearing more jewels then you’d ever seen in your life. it was a bit much but it’s not like anyone had asked you how you felt about it.
one day you were attending college, crushing on carlos, who was your best friend’s older brother, and now you were the only heir to a kingdom you hadn’t even heard of before.
before you could think about your circumstances any longer, someone had slid themselves into the alcove. you screamed.
“wait! wait! sshh! please!” a hand covered your mouth as your eyes widened in shock. you’re gonna die in an alcove and around five minutes away from your security. your introvert tendencies are going to kill you. this is the worst day of your life.
“don’t kill me! please!” you say, fighting his hand.
“what?” he asks, voice filled with shock. “i’m not going to kill you!”
“you’re not?”
“no!” you can hear an accent when he speaks. “i’m just trying to hide from my responsibilities. i didn’t want you bringing attention to us. this is my hiding spot when i come to genovian balls.”
“are you from here?”
“no. i’m from monaco. my mum is the monegasque ambassador to genovia.”
“explains the accent.” you say. you can’t see him but he stands slightly tall as he leans against the wall opposite you. “i’m y/n.”
“y/n?” his voice is shocked. “y/n, as in the crown princess y/n?”
“indeed.” you sigh. “that is me.”
“what are you doing hiding away? isn’t the queen looking for you?”
“you’re hiding too. isn’t your mother looking for you?”
“touché.” he laughs. “i guess we’re both running from our duties tonight.”
“so, what’s your name. you know mine and i’m at a disadvantage now.”
“charles, charles leclerc.” he laughs. “i never would have thought in a million years i’d be here with you. this alcove is usually empty.”
“is being here with me a bad thing?”
“oh! no! god no! it’s just unusual. who else can say they’ve been here with a princess.”
you chuckle at his response, feeling a bit more at ease with charles's lighthearted demeanor. "well, charles leclerc, i'm glad to have some company in this unusual situation."
he smiles warmly at you, the brightness of his teeth glinting in the darkness. "likewise, princess. i have to admit, this is definitely a first for me."
you both share a moment of quiet companionship, enjoying the brief respite from the grandeur of the ball. it's a strange feeling, finding solace in the presence of a stranger amidst the opulence of royalty.
"perhaps we should head back before we're missed," you suggest reluctantly.
charles nods in agreement, offering you his arm as you both make your way back to the ballroom. as you step into the light and the music surrounds you once again, you can't help but feel grateful for the unexpected connection you've found. you turn to communicate this to charles, only to be shocked into a stupor.
“what is it?” he asks as you stare at him. “something on my face?”
he was very attractive and your face heated up with embarrassment at the fact you accused the very handsome stranger of attempting to murder you. god, he put his hand over your mouth. was your makeup smudged? did you look okay? you had the telltale signs of a crush forming, and you were transported back to high school all over again.
you were definitely calling your best friends about this later tonight.
you shake your head, trying to push aside the embarrassment of your earlier reaction. "no, it's nothing. just... lost in thought for a moment."
charles gives you a curious look, but doesn't press further. instead, he offers you a reassuring smile before leading you back into the bustling ballroom.
as the music swells around you and the guests continue to dance and mingle, you find yourself stealing glances at charles when you think he's not looking. despite the initial shock of your encounter, you can't deny the flutter of excitement in your chest at the prospect of getting to know him better.
the only thing you miss are the glances he sends back.
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author’s note: princess diaries au with charles as ur love interest, carlos as lily’s brother and lando as lily. spoilers! charles and reader end up getting married and he becomes her trophy king <3 also, two people requested this prompt!! hope u both enjoyed it <3
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floofyroro · 2 days
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With my ✨golden birthday✨ approaching, I think I’ll finally post part 1 of my Crosshair/fem!reader fic this week. 👀
I’m itching for feedback so I think this will be good motivation to polish and edit this week so that it’s ready to be uploaded by Sunday evening, CST.
Here’s a sneakpeek in the meantime.
Consider it a small taste of what’s to come. 🤫
The Herbalist
Summary: A year after rescuing Omega from Tantiss, Crosshair is still adjusting to life on Pabu. You're the island herbalist who has just returned from a year-long pilgrimage on Naboo. As you familiarize yourself with the island newcomers, you grow close with Omega, who becomes your little helper in the gardens. Somehow, you continue crossing paths with her intimidating brother and you find that you're drawn to his elusiveness. (Slight AU because Tech is alive.)
His name is called amidst the clamor of the crowd and Crosshair squints as he scans his surroundings, only to find Omega waving from a corner stall. The humidity clings to Crosshair as he parts through a throng of people and he’s lost track of how many times he has cursed the climate. The familiar training blacks he’s worn for most his life were recently confiscated by Omega, in the name of ‘relaxation.’ 
You need a fresh start. I think most things hold memories, whether good and bad, she had argued.
After that, their unconventional squad were given the island’s finest garments made of kelpcotton and linenfiber, courtesy of Shep. The boys knew it was all Omega’s doing as it has her fingerprints all over it. Crosshair shoves thoughts of his beloved training blacks aside when he’s met with Omega’s eager energy as she stands next to another stall.
She’s practically beaming as she holds a jar up to him. It’s seemingly filled with an organic mixture of sorts, the contents rolling to one side due to Omega’s tilted grasp on it. She then pops the lid open and a waft of earthy aroma hits Crosshair’s senses immediately. 
“Do you recognize it?”
Before Crosshair can even respond to Omega’s prompt, his brother interjects.
“Our evening tea!” Tech leans in closer to sniff. “We made our last brew just last night. Excellent thinking, we’re in need of a restock.” He winks at her then, and Omega nods in resolve, snapping the lid shut. 
She then motions behind the stall, bringing attention to you. 
That overpowering aroma of tea hits Crosshair's senses once more. You emit an air of quiet confidence as you stand surrounded by what he surmises is your livelihood; hanging foliage, dry and fresh alike strung together, creating a cascading effect around your stall. Vitality is the word that resounds in his mind, perhaps due to the nature of the items you’re offering to sell. 
And maybe due to the healthy glow of your skin.
Omega tugs at his sleeve, drawing his attention from you. 
“You’ve been sleeping better at night, right?” 
He pauses to consider. It’s been evident that the past two weeks have garnered the most restorative rest Crosshair is able to experience. Nightmares still plague him most nights, but considering his sleep over the past three years, the difference is night and day. He ignored Wrecker’s comment the other evening that he no longer resembles a human skeleton and that his skin has lost that dull, transparent sheen to it. 
One could also blame that on the relentless sun, Crosshair had countered. 
Or on the meditation! Omega had chirruped.
So, Crosshair waits for Omega to continue because surely she has some sort of agenda to share. 
“Well, that’s thanks to the herbalist,” Omega finally says, pointing to you. “She’s been showing me how to take care of the island’s garden plots and greenhouses.” 
A connection is made then; when Omega wants a break from training, whether that be piloting with Tech or hand-to-hand with Hunter, she’ll disappear from the household until it’s time to commune for dinner. She almost always returns with tousled hair and a thin layer of dirt coating her skin. Your name is mentioned in passing during their evening meals but Crosshair has never thought twice about you. Now he’s putting face to name and realizing that she’s been assisting you all along.
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entertext · 1 day
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HGSN 27-2
Chapter (Japanese)
(Please hit the green thumbs up at the end of the Japanese chapter to show support)
Rough translation by me
P1
Tanaka: There's no such thing as "Nounuki-sama"
Tanaka: The Indou family's ritual has no particular meaning either. Even without something like that, if they'd just left you alone, you would still be on the mountain
Tanaka: That's why the village became peaceful after the mass deaths. You gathered all the impurities on the mountain.
Hikaru, Yoshiki: ....
Hikaru: Then why won't it do any good if I go back to the mountain?
P2
Tanaka: You're nothing compared to what you were back then
Tanaka: You can't go back to being "Nounuki-sama" anymore
Tanaka: Besides, if you've made yourself that weak
Tanaka: there's really no way you could fully take in that huge mass of impurities, is there?
Yoshiki: ...hey, what are you after?
Yoshiki: Cutting off 'Hikaru's head...!! What the hell do you want to do to us...!
P3
Tanaka: I'm not going to do anything
Tanaka: After all, you'll self-destruct on your own sooner or later, won't you?
Yoshiki: "Self-destruct"?...
Tanaka: From where I stand, I really have to hand it to you. An untouchable, invincible being gains an ego and weakens itself.
Tanaka: If something can't be defeated, then let it destroy itself on its own
P4
Yoshiki: "Destroy itself"? There's no way... that something like that...
(Hikaru: I'm going to go back to the mountain)
Yoshiki: ...
Tanaka: My goal is to not let the company use you
Tanaka: So this is all very convenient for me
Tanaka: But before that happens, there's something I'd like you to do
Tanaka: There's a folktale in Kubitachi called "The Farmer's Head" right?
Hikaru: Yeah
P5
Tanaka: A farmer's head falls into a hole on the mountain and a feast is granted in exchange...
Tanaka: Presumably, the real story is that one killed the other and stole their possessions or something, but it's likely that the part about the head disappearing is true.
Yoshiki: (Oh that's right, in the hall...)
(Kouhei: The offered head disappears on the spot
Kouhei: That's why we have carved replacement heads in order to hold funeral services for them in this hall)
Tanaka: Why did a commonplace folk belief like "Unuki-san"
Tanaka: morph into "Nounuki-sama", a violent cult making offerings of severed heads?
Tanaka: Because there actually was a phenomenon where heads disappeared
P6
Tanaka: Even if their wishes went unanswered, that enigma formed the basis for the villagers' belief in their god.
Tanaka: As for why the heads disappeared
Tanaka: I've looked into it
Tanaka: It's because there's a hole
Tanaka: An invisible hole that the villagers have spent so many years offering heads to.
P7
Tanaka: It's likely that's the reason for this region's high number of impurities since ancient times
Tanaka: The hole connects to the other world and brings impurities through it to this side
Hikaru: A hole...
Tanaka: While you were on the mountain, its effects were kept under control, but it's continued to grow in size
Tanaka: At this rate, it'll cause a disaster any time now.
Tanaka: So I'd really like to get that thing closed somehow.
Hikaru: If it's closed, the disaster will be averted?
Tanaka: Pretty much. Whether it's possible is another story though.
P8
Tanaka: If you're going to destroy yourself either way,
Tanaka: Why don't you help me close that hole?
Yoshiki: N-...No way
Yoshiki: We can't trust anything someone like you says. After what you did to 'Hikaru' ...
Tanaka: I see you really care about 'Hikaru'-kun
Yoshiki: ...
P9
Tanaka: But that's a monster in Indou Hikaru's corpse
Tanaka: I wonder if it's really okay for you to keep clinging to Hikaru for so long.
Tanaka: Wouldn't it be better to let go?
Yoshiki: ...He isn't some phantom that appeared in order for me to get over Hikaru's death
Yoshiki: He has his own personality and desires...
P10
Tanaka: So he's simply a different individual, you say
Tanaka: Then why would you go so far
Tanaka: for such a complete stranger?
Yoshiki: ...... ......
Yoshiki: Wh-
Yoshiki: -y
Yoshiki: ...
==
Next chapter: 05/28 (next week)
Twitter Extra: (link)
Extra 2 (link):
Hikaru Doll → Take out the cotton stuffing → Pack in some unknown thing → ?? Doll
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Note
Hey there!!
I saw where your Kurt requests were open! I was wondering if you'd write about the reader going through a bad break up and Kurt is there to comfort them? Just some sweet fluff and maybe even Kurt confessing to the reader that he's had a crush on them this whole time too but he was too scared to admit it to reader because reader was already in a relationship?
Thanks! Just going through a bad one myself and it'd be sweet to have some Kurt love ♥️
Cracks and Comfort
Kurt Wagner x gn!reader Words: 1.1K A/N: So sorry that this is happening to you! I've tried to write it as fast as possible in hopes it might help. Sorry if it's too short though
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You knew that you would have to crawl out of bed at some point and face reality, but at the moment you were quite content to hide under your comforter and cry into your pillow. You didn't really care, you were too busy trying to banish all thoughts of them from your mind.
It hurt, it hurt so incredibly and you wondered why no one had warned you about the consequences a relationship could have. Yes, you had known that the end of a relationship could and would hurt, but you hadn't been prepared for the extent of the pain.
Another sob escaped you as you clutched your pillow tighter. You had loved them, more than anything else in your life, and suddenly, overnight, it was over. And while they happily went on with their life, yours lay in shambles at your feet as you desperately tried to keep your heart together.
How could it be that they hardly cared, while you felt like you were suffocating? A knock sounded at your door and you were about to turn the person away when their voice came through to you. "My dear? Can I come in?"
Kurt.
You didn't want to be seen like this, a wreck of yourself, but Kurt had seen you at some of the lowest points in your life and you longed for the comfort he offered. Still crying, you called him in and pulled back the covers so you could see him.
Kurt stepped in, closed the door behind him and within seconds was at your side, his arms around you. "Oh, my dear, you don't deserve this." It wasn't many words, but they were enough to make you burst into tears again. Kurt murmured softly and leaned back on your bed, pulling you with him until you were lying next to each other.
Your head was nestled on his chest, your head buried in his neck as your tears wet his skin. Kurt, in turn, had one arm wrapped around your shoulders and his other hand buried in your hair, where it was now gently stroking your head. His tail was wrapped tightly around your waist.
You didn't know how long you cried, but he didn't leave your side for a second, didn't move, but slowly stroked your head and murmured soothing words into your ear, which more or less achieved their goal. But even when your tears had dried up, you couldn't bring yourself to move, but continued to lie in his arms. Since he didn't complain, you made no effort to do so. "I'm sorry," you mumbled after a while, but he gently hushed you.
"Don't apologize, please. I'm your friend, it's my job to be there for you." His voice had an incredibly comforting effect on you and slowly you let your fingers dance across his chest. Your ear was directly over his heart and the regular thumping of it made you sleepy and at the same time calmed you down a little.
"It just hurts so incredibly," you murmured softly and for a brief moment his hand remained in your hair before it continued with its movements. "I loved them Kurt, I loved them so incredibly much. Why did they still leave me? Was I not enough? Did I do too little? Am I so incapable of being loved?"
Tears welled up in your eyes again, but as you tried to bury your face in his chest again, he sat up all at once, tail still wrapped around your waist so you couldn't fall far from his arms. He gently placed his hands on your cheeks so that you had to look at him.
"Don't you dare say something like that again." Your eyes widened when you saw the seriousness in his gaze as it traveled over your face. "Don't say something like that, please. You are enough, you are more than enough, Liebling, you are everything. There is nothing more precious and more important."
He pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes for a moment, almost in agony.
"And how can you think you're not lovable? Can't you see how much the students love you? Your colleagues? Your friends? Can't you see how much I love you?"
You felt like you couldn't breathe again, but this time for completely different reasons.
"Kurt-" He silenced you with a soft "Shhh" and smiled slightly at you, his eyes opening again. "Don't say anything, please. You're hurt, you need to heal. And I'll help you as much as I can. That's all that matters right now."
You said nothing, just looked at him, eyes wide, not knowing what you had done to deserve this gentle, loving man in your life. Kurt leaned forward and pressed a light, innocent kiss against your forehead.
"Come, my dear," he murmured and, still holding you in his arms, leaned back into the bed so that you were lying on top of him again. "Get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."
Contrary to your expectations, it didn't take long before you were fast asleep on his chest.
Kurt looked at your sleeping form with a loving, albeit worried gaze and gently ran his finger over your tear-swollen cheek, careful not to wake you. God, he loved you so incredibly. You were the light of his life, every moment in your presence was like a blessing to him and if he had his way, he would never let you go again.
He had loved you for years, from afar, knowing full well that you could not and would not return these feelings. It had broken him that you had chosen them over him, but he had respected your decision because your happiness had been his sole goal. His expression twisted slightly as your heartbreaking sobs echoed in his mind. They had hurt you, broken your heart, and Kurt was boiling over with rage at the mere thought of them. How could they treat you like that? Could they not see your worth, your beauty, your fantastic personality? Obviously not, otherwise you wouldn't have cried in his arms.
The thoughts he had towards them were not good ones, sinful thoughts, but he didn't care.
He would condemn himself for you for all eternity as long as you stayed by his side and wrapped your arms around him afterwards.
His gaze slid over your face and hesitantly he pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry, Liebling," he whispered, his tail carefully wrapping a little tighter around your waist. "I won't let them hurt you again."
He didn't expect you to love him, especially not now when you were so vulnerable. Nor would he expect anything else from you, except to continue being your friend. Of course he hoped, oh how much he did, but he would ask for nothing, expect nothing, except your friendship. He could never even think of hurting you by being intrusive. He could never even think of hurting you in general.
He loved you too much for that.
"I swear to you."
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puppyeared · 4 months
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for like 3 weeks i was wondering why i was sleeping so much and felt listless. and just now I managed to email 3 people and responded to a month old message in the span of an hour because I got back to TAKING MY FUCKIN MEDS..........
#MOTHER FFFFUCKER#to be fair. my doc said I could stop taking them while im on break since i wouldnt need to be constantly pumped on stimulants#im not sure if it was a side effect but i managed to take like 3 different naps in one day and STILL managed to sleep thru the whole night#at least 2 days into my break. the weird thing is i didnt feel more or less rested afterwards. but mentally i think im in a good place rn#to really put the level of awakeness im at rn i feel weirdly confident i could start one piece. also bc of that sick new opening it BANGS#the song is really good and im in love with the animation style. did some digging and it seems one of the lead animators is masato mori#but i could be wrong. it seems he also did some work on mp100 which could explain a lot lol.. he uses smear frames really well to convey#consistent movement and fluidity!!! someone else might have done color design but it works really really well esp with odas style!!#just love the overall vibe and aesthetic and id really love to study it and incorporate a bit of it into my art.. especially the thick#outlines which i think helps to separate characters and objects on screen. though i have to say the style is definitely more suited to#animation bc of the simpleness and smears. maybe that will help me explore shapes and perspective when i draw... i wanna get better#at drawing poses and angles but i have a hard time wrapping my head around space and using perspective guide lines NGHHHH#i wonder if it has to do with my dogshit ability to judge distance. not depth perception but like. judge how far smth is in metres etc#im also wearing an N95 for the first couple weeks back bc of the wave. absolutely NO BODY is wearing a mask its so fucking over#where im sitting ive heard 5 different people coughing probably not into their elbows!!! and im just. head in my fucking hands#there was a kid sitting a couple seats away in class coughing as he pleases and i wanted to grab him in a chokehold so badly. PLEASEE#ive been annoying my family by asking them to mask up and reminding them to bring masks when they go out and showing them news articles#but at least its working bc we ordered some KN95s and my mom is at least taking me seriously so. please dont be afraid to speak up abt your#health. take care of yourself and others however u can!! wear that mask indoors at your maskless friends house!!! stay home when u can!!#im wearing a surgical mask at home too bc my parents have '''a dry throat cough''' and they are so bad at coughing into their sleeves#also im pretty sure dry throat isnt transmissible bc my brother started coughing too so.. i also tested negative but they havent tested yet#im also not a doctor but i have to keep reminding ppl whenever i can that covid and flu work differently. covid is new and too recent to#have nearly as much research done on it. it seems its also compounding so instead of building immunity it weakens the body and spreads to#to other systems which might explain brain fog and muscle weakness. i remember someone early in the pandemic got infected and it messed up#their smell/taste receptors so bad that they cant eat most foods and that stays in the front of my mind when i think abt covid. christ#yapping
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wild-at-mind · 4 months
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Not to talk about MRA-lite spaces again but I'm going to need everyone to understand that in these spaces, the subtext of 'men don't get to talk about their problems' is ALWAYS 'and it is women's fault!'
#my time in the MRA-lite saltmines returns to me yet again whenever i see the transandrophobia side of tumblr#look- it's just the same stuff ok? Or maybe i'm just biased because it triggers me the fucking same no matter who is saying it#also please note i'm saying MRA-lite and not MRA- I understand that MRA usually has connotations of violence for people#MRA-lite is nothing like that it's just a load of talking about men's issues but without any of the context#the very important context that you need to place the issues into wider society and its effect on everyone and not just men#these spaces may not be violent but they are quite pointless and the conversations never ever go anywhere#and it's been the same like 5 conversations for the past 15 years and no doubt much longer but that's as far back as i go with it#every time someone discovers the 5 or so men's issue they act like they just converted to a religion or something#and bring it up in everything. I was like that too at like 21 i promise i get it! but now i look back and CRINGE#and i am a guy now! ok? I get it that a lot of people are transmasc doing this i get why! but.....#i just wish it was less of a Thing. and i genuinely find it triggering.#because i do fucking care ok? i have academic books about some of the 5 or so men's issues on my bookshelf!#because actually there are people writing these books and they do care!#i had someone a while ago saying it was 'sad' to see a trans man talk like i do on this so i explained where i'm coming from#and they never came back so i will never know if they saw my point of view and that kind of sucked#hopefully that won't happen again- i really don't like arguing with other transmasc people (i like discussions though)#anyway i'll stop rambling now
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jemmo · 1 year
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i can’t tell you how much i usually hate these ignoring, distancing plots in shows and how much i absolutely adore everything about these 2 episodes of the eighth sense. like im not having a good time, and it’s fantastic.
bc the thing is, in all of this, i can’t see the right way to go, i can’t find the person to blame, i can’t find the way to make it better. I can’t single out a single moment or a thing someone did and say “this is why everything went wrong”. it’s just this coming together and rise and swell of things happening and people feeling things that has us ending up here and it feels beautifully and horribly organic bc we can’t find that point where it all went wrong. was it on that rooftop? was it at the beach? was it when they first met? was it when his brother died? was it when he was born into this family? there is no single point. it’s all of them and it’s none of them. there is truly nothing and no one to blame. and there are bad characters in the show, people you can hate, eunji and taehyung, but neither of them are to blame for any of the bad stuff that happens in the show. you’re not waiting for them to be taken down bc that doesn’t solve anything. instead, it’s just two people hurting, and not knowing how to make it better.
bc you take jaewon, and after what he says at the end of ep 8, you want to hate him, you want to be so angry at him for what he says, for how he acts, how dismissive and hurtful he is, and yet you’ve been made to understand 100% why, and not just in a “i get it but that wasn’t the right thing to do” way, in a “that was horrible and yet i know he doesn’t see any other way to handle this” way. like you don’t see this as a misstep, or a step to far, bc you know for him, in his state of mind, it is completely justified, it’s necessary. bc it not only punishes the person he blames for all of this, himself, but he sees it as a way to protect jihyun. and not even in a cliche “bad things happen when people around me, the people I love always get hurt” kinda way, but more so in that he sees that he is a scared, messy, struggling person that doesn’t know how to handle himself, and doesn’t want to inflict that on anyone, let alone the person he cares about. so what’s worse, a quick, swift blow that hurts but cuts everything off cleanly, or this prolonged relationship where he inevitably continues to weigh jihyun down with the weight of his trauma, and take it out on him. what’s the point of having a place of refuge when you ruin it more and more every time you depend on it, until it eventually can’t offer you comfort. it’s a lesser of two evils, jaewon’s choice is obvious to him.
but then you take jihyun. and we talk about masks and fronts but we never once question whether jihyun wears a mask bc he appears so sweet and innocent and naive, what can this boy possibly be putting up a front for. but i see it, this almost fake it till you make it confidence front that yes is becoming more natural. but my god just think about what he’s gone through for a second. think about it. left home for the first time in his life, moved to an unfamiliar and intimidating city with only one other person he knows, started a new job, started university, tried to build relationships, met a man that intrigues him, and perused him only to be kissed and then ignored, then maybe establish something tentative, only to then see him spiral, go on a trip where he shared his trauma, you have an intimate night together only to almost die, and then be not only ignored, but plain and simple rejected and pushed away. like… you can say all you want about jihyun growing as a person and having more courage, but no amount of growth for however many months this has been going on for can prepare you for that. for the mixed messages on steroids. for the back and forth, not knowing. to give yourself to someone like that and go through something traumatic and then be abandoned by that person. we get it, bc we see all of jaewon’s story. but apart from what jaewon shared at the beach, jihyun doesn’t know any more than that. he doesn’t know about therapy, about how his father acts towards him, about the extent of his trauma and how it manifests and affects his mental health, and how he is struggling every single day. and you can’t expect him to know the depths of that no matter how empathetic and connected he is, how much he cares about jaewon, he can’t be superhuman. and so you get why he pushes and fights for jaewon. like… he is in love. it’s clear. he’s fallen in love with him. he is this wide-eyed, open kid that fell in love with a senior. and jaewon has just messed with his head, he’s never been clear, and you can’t expect jihyun to just get past that bc he knows something is up with jaewon. he can’t know the full story, but even if he did, that can’t be a reason or a justification to be treated the way jaewon treats him. bc we’re all about jaewon putting himself first and doing what he wants and respecting himself like that, but jihyun deserves that too. and it’s such a fine line to tread when you know someone is going through something, bc again you understand why, but you’re still the one being treated that way. like we talk about jaewon’s trauma, but here jihyun was part of it, he went through that traumatic experience. he’s the one that nearly lost his life. and yes, he appears to handle it well, and no matter to what extent that’s true or not, you can’t not look at jaewon struggling and understand it and then not look at jihyun with that same understanding. it’s not about comparing trauma and pain and deciding who is suffering more, it’s seeing that there are two people in this, and they’ve both been affected, so we should give them the same level of understanding.
and that’s something jaewon has to see. that his self-preservation is selfish. that his destructive behavior doesn’t just affect jihyun, instead it feels pointed and directed, bc every way jaewon hurts himself hurts jihyun. and it comes bc jihyun was so much of what was good about jaewon’s life for a second, so attacking that is his only form of self-sabotage. he can’t mess up his relationship with his friends or parents bc they were broken in the first place, and he can’t sabotage his future bc it’s already been ruined the moment he didn’t pursue his photography major. him nearly getting kicked out of school affected him so little not just bc he wanted that punishment, but bc even that punishment meant so little to him. all these things are established and they already contribute to his suffering. removing jihyun from his life is the only active thing he can do to make himself feel worse, and he can veil it in an act of protection, and even feel like he’s doing the right thing, but that deceives them both into believing this is done from a good place, when no good can actually come of it. in trying to protect jihyun, you hurt him more. in trying to hurt yourself, you hurt him too. and when someone is in a headspace like jaewon is, you look for that thing that’ll break through. bc he is so distant, he’s trying to remove himself from reality, and jihyun needs to act as this person that can anchor him to it. when you’re trying to isolate and separate yourself, sometimes seeing that you still affect things, that there’s a persons that exists that is affected and hurt by your actions, and no matter how you try to cut yourself off, you cannot stop that, separating yourself still hurts them, maybe that’s a thing that can get through. but that’s something that depends on jaewon. ultimately, he’s the only one that can get himself out of this place, and that’s what makes it so hard, that no matter how much jihyun cares and how much he fights for him, nothing can come of that effort is jaewon doesn’t meet him there. and it’d be so easy for jihyun to give in, to take the hurt, but over the course of this show we’ve seen the strength jihyun has developed, which has only seemed to increase more so after the accident, call it a renewed vigor for life or something. he has the strength that jaewon doesn’t, to not let his pain consume him. and in a beautiful full-circle moment, it’s because of jaewon, bc when they first spoke he sparked in jihyun a want to be stronger, to be more than the country mouse, and he’s done it. and it’s that courage that means he can fight for jaewon, even in the face of rejection. he trusts himself and that he knows jaewon, the real jaewon, to see past words that are intended to hurt them both, and go after the person that’s still inside jaewon somewhere. no, he can’t do it for him, and no them being together is not some magical cure for jaewon, but it’s what can put him on a path of caring for himself again, and sometimes that has to start with caring about someone else (and suddenly I’m reminded of my beautiful man 2 and how kiyoi tries to break hira out of his worthless mindset by making him care about him, and how ultimately that can’t be enough, and that hira has to take those first steps of seeing his self worth by himself). what jihyun can do by fighting is again act as that tether to reality and try to be this representation of the good jaewon can be and do. bc look at jihyun, look at how confident and strong he has become, and look at how he got there, bc you saw that country mouse and gave him the time of day and helped him grow and gave him new experiences. you jaewon, you. and that shift in mindset, from jihyun representing hurt and the accident and the trauma of his brother and everything he can’t do, to being that light and refuge and everything he can do is again something that might breaks through. and the fact it has such narrative strength and satisfaction makes me hopeful that that’s what we might actually get.
#I did a rant#I’ve done a lot of rants actually they’re all just sitting in my notes bc they all got a little too much#my thoughts are a literal mess and I am still struggling to put them in all the right words#mostly bc the way jaewon is behaving and not to be too overinvolved is very reminiscent of *me*#and so watching him shut down and remove himself knowing it’s something i do is hard and frustrating#and I did a whole rant about it but I realised I need to separate myself from the character to be able to talk about it#so yeah#I really wanted to bring up jihyun tho#bc he presents as so strong in these two eps but you cannot argue against what he’s been through and the effect that would have on anyone#and try to see it from a perspective where we don’t know what jaewon is going through and just see his actions and realise how much he has#messed with jihyun again not at all on purpose but that 1000 to nothing jihyun went through from the trip to the accident and it’s aftermath#that’s a fucking lot#and it’s interesting that we talk so much about people putting themselves first and not putting up with shit#like I think of simon from young royals and how we celebrate him saying no to being willhelms secret as an act of self-respect#but bc we understand and empathise so much with what jaewon is going through it’s hard to make yourself even consider jihyun#but when you do see it from his side you realise it’s a lot for him too#and that you wouldn’t hate him or misunderstand him if he was mad at jaewon#and with *spoliers* is there only so much he can take of jaewon’s self sabotage hurting him until even he and his developed strength and#confidence is broken by it#he can only keep fighting for jaewon for so long and idk if it’s gonna be a case of jaewon coming round too little too late#but I just hope this isn’t easy which sounds mean I don’t want either of them to suffer more#but this isn’t a kiss and get back together and all is good#I think jaewon needs to see the bad he’s caused#bc it’s only by owning up to that that he can ground himself in the moment and see that he’s part of this world and can’t separate himself#from it and jihyun also needs to realise that no matter his headspace jaewon does want space and when someone is self sabotaging you still#have to listen and respect what they’re saying distance means distance and as much as you want to fight against it you can’t be responsible#for making it work#agh I need to stop rambling bc it’s so messy and complex and I just absolutely ADORE the level to which this situation has so many emotional#moving parts and how ultimately blameless they both are and how it makes it so much harder to see a way out it’s fantastic#the eighth sense
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cryptid-on-a-string · 2 months
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I think it’s funny how much change and development I’ve made to the plot storyline in my head that I’ve been documenting for almost 3 years now. When I first came up with the concept there was going to be like magic and angels and faeries and a whole bunch of world building shit that did NOT fit together at all and made no sense. But now instead it’s a bunch of situations that are exactly as outlandish as the fantasy genre because of how fucked up they are. Nobody makes healthy or normal decisions.
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sysig · 5 months
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Things they don't tell you about playing 1-4 according to the actual dates:
I have been playing Ace Attorney for four hours and I'm still not done with the 26th despite it being well into the early hours of the 27th already
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autistic-katara · 3 months
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when i’m in an explaining something u don’t understand to someone who’s directly experienced it contest and my opponent is the mother of a trans guy
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imaginaryelle · 2 years
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Constantly torn between my need to have qijiu's insane combination of inability to communicate and mutual devotion end in inevitable tragedy vs my need to shake them around in enough second chances that they manage to change the entire narrative tone of their story.
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opens-up-4-nobody · 8 months
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catsniffer420 · 1 year
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i swear its so hard to focus/concentrate when you’re not inherently interested in the subject matter... i’ve fallen out of love with my degree but i’m in too far not to finish it! i honour and respect the effort i have put in, so i have chosen to finish my studies. but oof it’s a lot harder to pay attention when an intrinsic passion is absent
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