#i actually considered not posting this but you know what

[verushkak70]

I understand what you're trying to do but in my experience it doesn't work

I've debunked literally hundreds of insane, factually & scientifically wrong crap a friend has been sending me off social media since the FIRST orange asshole campaign

It has not made a difference & I recently realized why (aside from, y'know, tens of thousands of Chinese & Russian social media bots gaming algorithms to inject false narratives into the mainstream to influence elections & democracy in multiple countries...)

It's because facts do not matter to him anymore

This is a belief system very much like religion - it might as well be religion

It is impervious to facts & science

Yet this is someone who I once considered highly intelligent & I still cannot understand how he's fallen for all of this except that, deep down, he must have either a hollow core, or a core of hate, that wants everyone else in the world to be as secretly miserable as he is (which I only know because I've known him for decades - since high school - casual observers would never say "this guy is miserable & self-loathing")

Objectively, on paper, he is intelligent or at least was intelligent & high scoring enough to get into Ivy League universities when we were graduating high school (he did not go to any tho; neither of us could afford such universities; we went to the state university that would take literally anyone, at the time, & from which you had to work at getting kicked out)

This was formerly a pro-choice, pro-porn, pro-drug guy who has drunk the Kool-aid - he's still pro-porn & pro-drug but suddenly in the past 2 years, as "throw it back to the states" became the propaganda on X (his favorite social media, ugh), he started saying it should be thrown back to the states

This from a guy who used to say - in his 20s, 30s, 40s - that abortion should be available on demand at drive thrus (which was hyperbole ofc; obvs you can't get one at an actual drive thru; it was the concept of fast & easy access he was championing)

As these right wing evangelical positions have trended on X, they have come up in his speech the past couple of years (really the past decade, but it accelerated like the speed of light once he moved from FB to the post-Musk Twitter/X)

Because I've known him for so long, I've been able to say, "Huh, you never used to say/believe that over the last 40 years... Why the change, & why now?"

& even that does not get him to realize his opinions are being deliberately shaped by propaganda

He will deny it or say "well I always kind of thought that way" & when I say "dude, you've never been shy of sharing your opinions, whether people wanted to hear them or not, especially if not! so why haven't you mentioned this change of opinion until after X became your main source of 'news'?"

That gets evasions & subject changes because the idea that he didn't come up with these ideas on his own is unacceptable

He will share literally fake news from X & when I ask, "OK, I get that you don't trust mainstream media, with good reason; or the government, with good reason; or the medical/scientific establishment, not without good reason; but you'll just believe anything some clown you don't know on the Internet - who could be anywhere in the world despite his "US Navy Vet" trucker hat - says, without question?"

& his response is always subject changes & attacks on mainstream media/government/politicians/parties but never an answer to the actual question because there is no rational explanation & he knows it

& if I call him on the subject changes, he just ratchets up the subject changes & attack rhetoric as if I'm one of those easily offended wilting liberal flowers he can steamroll, which I'm not & never have been, so it's interesting (if sad) that he thinks what works on other people will work on me

Or maybe he just doubles down because there IS no rational explanation, idk

This is seriously depressing me because this guy was my BFF for like the first 30 of our 40 year friendship - my older sisters would call him "our adopted little brother" - & I don't recognize him anymore

The only reason I continue to talk to him, really, is my oldest sister, who passed away a year ago in February, & was a big activist & organizer/coordinator of various (large) protests here, said "don't give up on him, don't fight or argue - just keep listening & questioning" because "he's a good egg"

& honestly he is, underneath all the sourball curmudgeon thorny exterior - the man has never not been there when I needed him & lots & lots of times when I didn't, just for fun

But this is becoming exhausting & I'm stressed out from not literally screaming "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!? WHERE IS MY FRIEND, YOU CRAZY POD PERSON WHO TOOK HIS PLACE??"

I'm sorry - I'm just venting, I guess

But please tell me how someone can maintain the cognitive dissonance of a high index of suspicion for the mainstream media, the government, & medicine/science, but not some Joe Blow clown on the Internet - as if somehow that guy (who's probably actually a Chinese or Russian bot) is telling the gospel truth & has a hidden mainline to the secrets of the universe

Because I can't understand it

I can understand it in people who've not had the privilege of university education (my friend has)

or international travel (my friend has, multiple times, with me & others)

or who never left the neighborhood or town where they grew up (my friend did as soon as he could)

I cannot understand it in my formerly skeptical & always shrewd friend

I honestly do not get it 😞

So many people do not understand the relationship between climate change and cold weather.

[astars-things]

for the lando au, can we get an insta au where y/n posts a bunch of pictures to prove that they are still together because there are rumors they broke up and that lando is seeing someone else. thank you!

*I don't own any of these photos they are from Pinterest

Liked by @.PitStopQueen and others

@.F1.Tea LANDO NORRIS SINGLE, Hear it here first: Lando Norris is single, rumors have been going that Lando Norris and his long-time girlfriend Y/n Hughes have broken up, sources say they saw him getting handsy with another girl in Monaco

view comments

@.PitStopQueen Y/N and Lando breaking up? This feels unreal… I’m actually so sad about this.

@.F1hasmyheart He’s single now?!? Omg, dreams do come true

@.Landofan OMG Lando is finally single? 👀👀 manifesting my shot

@.User2 Y/N and Lando breaking up feels like my parents divorcing. 🥲

→@.user no same because I'm sitting here crying hoping its a prank

Liked by @.jackhughes @.Landonorris and others

@.Y/n_hughes they could never tear us apart

tagged @.Landonorris

view comments

@.f1fangirl101 Ugh, I wish the breakup rumors were true. Lando deserves better.

@.hockeygirl23 She’s not even that great. Lando deserves better.

→@.jackhughes If you’re going to be disrespectful, don’t follow my sister. Simple as that

@.teambreakup: Sometimes rumors should stay real. Sorry, not sorry.

@.trevorzegras Love you both, Y/N and Lando.

@.Y/n&landoship Yesss! My favorite couple is still going strong. ❤️

*liked by @.Y/n_hughes @.Landonorris

@.norrisnation: Finally, the confirmation we needed! Lando and Y/N are the power couple we deserve. 💪🏎️

*liked by @.Y/n_hughes @.Landonorris

@.saltyanonymous Bet this was just damage control. We all know it’s not real

liked by @.f1andhockeylove @.McLaren and others

@.Landonorris To my dearest @.Y/n_hughes, I love you so much, thank you for supporting me, I will go to the moon and back for you just to see your beautiful smile, there is no other girl for me, you're beyond perfect. To anyone who sends her hate, consider this your warning, if you keep sending hate, I will block you

View comments

@.puckfan101 Haters just can’t handle how perfect you two are. Don’t let them get to you.

@.Quinnhughes Appreciate you standing up for my sister. We’ve got her back, too.

@.f1andhockeylove Protecting your girl like the king you are 👑. We stan Lando and Y/N forever!

@.McLaren Lando is an icon, he's a legend and he is the moment

→@.jackhughes y/n get off the McLaren account

→@.Y/n_hughes I don't know what you're talking about

@.lhughes_06 This is cute but also gross

@.Y/n_hughes Lando, I will forever and always love you

[lesbianherald]

kind of feel like 'write for yourself, nobody else' is bad advice. like i get where its coming from. but idk. it just feels too general. at least for me writing is about connecting with others and good writing knows how to do that. not connecting with everyone - not writing to please - but still connecting with others you know. you have to know what questions people might ask and how you might be able to get them invested etc etc.

[xclowniex]

“Entity” refers to the state. People also refer to the US as an entity. not that you care, because you gleefully jerk off to dead brown kids. but that’s actually why people say “entity”

this is referring to the reblog of a post where I added how zionist entity is being used as a dog whistle.

Firstly, you are calling the US an entity. If people want to say the Israeli entity, then sure you have a point, but the original post and my reblog was about people saying the "zionist entity"

People don't just say zionist entity to refer to Israel, they also use it to refer to anything they deem is of "zionist" origin. I've seen the ADL be considered part of the "zionist entity" by some people.

You also have not at all refuted my point about people using zionist as a dogwhistle for jew and how even meta has acknowledged how whilst it is used to refer to the political ideology, that it can also be used as a dogwhistle for jew. But that would constitute you actually having to make a point.

I've also never once celebrated or supporting the killing of Palestinians. I've actually made posts saying I don't want Palestinians to die. But I guess speaking out about antisemitism must mean I want Palestinians dead right? Fuck what I actually think and have said, you anon, must surely know what I think better than I do right?

[xx-emowarz-xx]

I'm not engaging with that person's followup because I consider them to be a pedant and a shit head but I do just want to add that the reason that I refused to take my lip ring out is because I did not think that job was going to pay me enough to warrant making any change to my personal appearance for it and also because I have adhd and lose my face jewelry very easily if I take it out. But the fact that a fucking motel paying less than 20 an hour had the audacity to ask me to take my jewelry out is part of the point I was making in this post. And that point is that it really sucks how this stupid baka world punishes nonconformity and that employers really really like to try to police your behavior outside of your job. I think it's kinda bootlickery for anyone to try to argue with that point. A lot of you are fucking pedants and are trying to knit pick this post, you need to actually read the post and figure out what I was saying (i.e. Some people are financially forced to change their physical bodies that they live in in order to conform to the aesthetic standards of employers which is incredibly authoritarian) rather than take issue with minor phrases I used in the post. This is reading comprehension 101.

If you want to argue with me shut the fuck up about "Well some people actually did leave their emo phase" (I don't care that's not what the post was about, you're annoying) or "Nuh uh that's not my personal experience" (I don't care, your experience is not universal or even particularly common, you're annoying) and actually address the point of the post, which I will repeat is that: Some people are financially forced to change their physical bodies to conform to the aesthetic standards of employers which is incredibly authoritarian. If you want to argue with that we can and I will call you a bootlicker, but address the point instead of talking about people who were briefly edgy in middeschool and then decided they were over it or by talking about how you personally found a job where you can have a mowhawk. guess what, so did I, its why I turned down motel 6. I'm currently searching for an upgrade rather than anything I can find. That doesn't change the fact that there are some people who are conforming to the no colored hair no piercings no tattoos rules because they're afraid of being homeless but who would otherwise look like me. I know these people I meet them at conserts and the like and I feel bad for them. I made a post about it. engage with the post instead of some bullshit

People don't actually grow out of their emo phases. People are forced out of their emo phases by employers who get a raging boner over controlling how their employees dress, cut their hair, whether they mod their bodies and so on

[youvebeengalindafied]

This is all @polyarmy and @fiyeroba ‘s fault for making me sad about Glinda again so now I’m posting my whole Glinda Meta here (originally an obnoxiously long dm sent to @gamorahww who is a patient saint)

You’ve asked for it, and now you get……The Glinda Meta™

First: I have been obsessed w/ Glinda's character for like 15 years. She is my roman empire. But I also really LIKE her as a flawed character - something that the fandom has always seemed to be a little uncomfortable with.

She is, to me, what Jane Austen once wrote about Emma:

“I am going to write a heroine whom no one but myself will much like.”

Full meta character analysis under the cut. Uh. Strap in.

(This gets a lil long sorry, but PLEASE HEAR ME OUT -)

To me, the interesting thing is what actually - ACTUALLY - motivates Glinda to act the way she does is so much greater and deeper than a simple desire for success/fame/popularity.

Like obviously in literature/critique of narrative, we have this idea of protagonists vs supporting characters. Supporting characters might have philosophies or goals that drive them (think Nessa and Boq) but those philosophies and goals are usually not developed into self-contradictory nuance the way a protagonist's motivations are. They’re just facts about the character.

And in my option, a big problem in the wicked fandom is that everybody seems to treat Glinda as a supporting character whose motivations are easy to digest. To most fans, she's either the girlfriend who is there to support Elphaba's story by being "loving but conflicted." Or to critics she's entirely selfish and cruel (even as she's fun and interesting), and therefore a semi-antagonist

But if you step back and treat Glinda as a true antihero protagonist of Wicked (for the sake of the mental character study), you see that she's not actually motivated by love or popularity or even success....what drives her is desperation.

Glinda sees her world as a place that cannot be changed and will only work to destroy those who cannot correctly operate in it. And she is SO DESPERATE to avoid that. Elphaba's fate is actually her worst fear - she cannot break away from society and leap to a new fate, because she is the ultimate cynic who thinks there is no way that could possibly work. In fact, it's an enormous testament to her love (however you want to intepret that) of Elphaba that she's even willing to consider leaving during Defying Gravity. For a brief moment, her immense, incredible faith in Elphaba is almost enough to overcome her complete desperation to survive the horrible world she thinks she's in.

And that obviously means that she's not as noble as Elphaba or as brave as Fiyero as a character - she cannot make the choice to leave when both of them do at different points - but that's because she's the most "human" character in the story. Most people are not brave enough to become international terrorists, even in the face of great evil. We might join in a developed cause, but to knowingly walk towards what is likely one's death to change a system you know you’ll actually have very little effect on...that takes a very special kind of person. And while Glinda is a GOOD person, she is too much a cynic and too desperate to survive her crazy world to become that impossible standard of the Rebel or the Hero. She's just a flawed, scared girl, in circumstances she never dreamed she’d be in.

And then the craziest thing happens:

Rather than showing Glinda that she should have been brave and done what E and F did, the narrative instead goes and basically confirms all her darkest fears: Elphaba rebels...and her revolution fails, and Glinda loses her best friend to bitter hatred and insanity for most of Act 2. Fiyero decides to leave and do the right thing by going with Elphaba....and he is almost immediately murdered in a horrible, violent way as punishment for it. This can only reinforce for Glinda that the State/the System/the World is all-powerful, and she must bow to it.

But that's the most fascinating moment for her character, because the very moment she realizes the absolute overwhelming power of the system (March of the Witch Hunters) is also the very moment that chooses to die rather than perpetuating it. She leaves the City to approach Elphaba - whom Glinda thinks POSSIBLY WANTS TO KILL HER - and BEGS Elphaba to not die. Begs Elphaba to stop her self-sacrificial madness. Begs Elphaba to allow Glinda to sacrifice herself instead ("Then I'll go, I'll tell everybody the truth!" "No! They'll just turn against you!" "I DON'T CARE!" - this girl who is entirely motivated by survival is straight up throwing it all on the line ready to walk to her death at the hands of a mob with wide open, unblinking eyes)

And obviously, in doing so, she is making the same choice that Fiyero did earlier in the story, But the huge difference is that Fiyero is a classic case of a "dead from the beginning" character, and he does not have the same motivations as her. He starts as a nhilist already embracing death in Dancing Through Life and his character is not somebody who is desprate to survive - his character is driven by a desperation for a faith. And Elphaba (and her cause) is his faith that he happily martyrs himself for.

By contrast, Glinda is terrified of the system that is trying to kill her, and she is desperate to survive it. She sees the way it takes everything form her, again and again, destroying everything she loves - Elphaba, Fiyero, her own sense of goodness…

(And she is extremely genre-aware that she is in a tragedy: her world isn't fair, and she knows that Elphaba will fail. She knows this will all go wrong.)

But Glinda still has such strength of character that she - in the end - overcomes all of her fear, all of her weaknesses, and humbles herself at the pyre to join the people she loves so much in their fate. She both offers to die for Elphaba and she takes up Elphaba's work and dedicates her entire life to it, consequences be damned. And that comes from a place of ultimate love and goodness, despite all of her flaws and all the temptations dissuading her.

Because Glinda is not Elphaba or Fiyero - she isn't a starry-eyed optimistic rebel or a man with a obsessive, loving faith. She is just a girl. Just Emma. And she is extremely flawed, and has so many fears that push and pull at her in a way the other main characters do not experience. But despite being so painfully, humanly defective, her goodness allows her to do the right thing in the end.

tl;dr - the greatest thing about Glinda’s character is that she is flawed, and she is weak and makes all the wrong choices. But in the end, she humbles herself completely - to the point of offering her own life for Elphaba and taking the whole weight of the world on her shoulders despite all her fear - because she is ultimately good.

And thus in the end, she becomes the person that Elphaba so clearly sees her as throughout the story: good, caring, and able to make real change in the world. She will now try desperately to fully live up to Elphaba's incredible faith in her. And it's so heartbreaking and tragic, but also one of the best character arcs ever.

So I guess it's less "wants to stay safe in her bubble" and more "she sees no option other than to stay safe. The State/System is all-powerful and there is nothing she thinks she can do to change that. But the beauty of the character lies in her decision to step out of that bubble anyways."

—

BONUS: Glinda’s flaws in relation to her relationship with Elphaba

(Or why Gelphie is a devastating ship (romantically or not) but not in the way you think)

This section dedicated to the SJB/AA performance that just BREAKS ME.

Elphaba basically sees Glinda through some WILDLY rose-tinted glasses (which is just. such a fascinating insight into elphaba’s character). Which is why a good chunk of the fandom accepts it as fact that Glinda is ~not actually all that flawed~ or is somehow being forced to make the decisions she is (she is not. the narrative point of Fiyero’s character is to prove that lol)

Glinda is very much complicated and does make some truly terrible decisions. Elphaba just sees and believes the good in her, despite everything she does (because it’s also a fact of the story that - either platonically or romantically - she’s clearly a little in love with Glinda. (The passes she gives that girl…)). I don’t think her weird thing about Glinda is particularly rational, but it is undeniably all-consuming.

And that makes their relationship feel VERY human. Their flaws don't make them unworthy of each other’s love and respect and friendship. Elphaba's love of Glinda is pretty crazy in light of how much Glinda’s morals and choices differ from her own, but that’s the kind of love that real, sometimes illogical people have. Anybody trying to prove the logic or compatibility of the characters is kinda missing the point - it doesn’t make sense, and THAT’S how you know it’s love.

(Brief aside: similar to Elphaba’s obsession with Glinda, Fiyero is also irrationally obsessed with Elphaba. I mean, she kinda sucks at the whole revolution thing (she's trying!!) and he's clearly starry-eyed ignoring a LOT of her flaws lol. In contrast - for better or worse, Glinda does see Elphaba's flaws and calls them out, just as Elphaba sees Fiyero's flaws and calls him out. It’s a nice little circular relationship)

But…but….is it gay???

Sure. I think so - but I’m a lesbian who has shipped it since I was a preteen lol. But that’s also NOT THE POINT, and focusing on only the romantic angle of their relationship REALLY ignores just how layered and complex it is.

Taking off my squee shipping glasses for a minute: they’re fundamentally just two people in some version of an EXTREMELY intense relationship. I honestly think Glinda reads as a little terrified of how insanely intense her relationship is with Elphaba. She fears walking down that road and fully falling into that intense, all-consuming love. (And we literally learn why later through Fiyero’s ‘death’ and Elphaba’s insanity - love makes you do some crazy things, and Glinda can’t afford that in this world.)

Regardless of whether you interpret them romantically or not - it’s clear they’re very intense about each other and Glinda is very afraid that Elphaba is her weakness. Unfortunately, Elphaba is also her soulmate and the love of her life, and she’ll always come back again. That fact will ruin Glinda’s life in the end, but it will have been worth it for all the love that was there

[thegreatstoryteller]

The Great Shift: Awkward Tales - Vignette 2: Athletics Run in the Family

“Hey dad! Ready for that workout? I think this football jersey is getting a bit tight. Might need a new one later.” Kyle boomed as he bounded across the hall. The sound loud enough to cause his dad, Bill to jump!

“Oh uh… yeah sure Kyle. Maybe we skip the workout today. We could go shopping and get you new clothes.” Bill offered, gulping as he walked over to his towering son.

“Haha! Very funny dad. I know how you always said that every workout skipped, is a day wasted. I finally get it now! I just beat my PR for bench presses last week! Pretty sure I could do it again this week too if we keep at it! Now let’s go!” Kyle smiled and carried his dad to the car.

Bill sighed. Kyle wasn’t wrong. Before the great shift Bill was a retired amateur athlete. He never could quite go pro, but his passion for working out and fitness was always there. It was something he tried to inspire in his son Kyle, but it never took. Kyle was always more artsy. More sensitive. Less in the physical space and more in the mental. Bill didn’t even care that his son was interested in men, only that he tried some kind of athletic activity. Even as he was making his way through college Bill held on to hope that Kyle would find some athletic spark in his son. Something for them to bond over, but it never came… despite how many times he tried to force sports on to Kyle.

It turns out he should’ve been careful what he wished for. After the great shift, Kyle had landed into the body of a professional athlete, Dallas Turner. Now his one shrimpy son was a 6’5, 250lb titan of athleticism.  Suddenly, Kyle finally understood what his dad was talking about. Running around, lifting weights, hell even playing football. Kyle was in love! The consistent amount of fitness planning that Kyle had done in the 1 year since the great shift was more than he’d ever done in his entire life! And the results had shown! Kyle had gained over 10lbs of muscle since he’d got that body!

NFL scouts had even come around and asked him if he’d consider joining the league after he finished college! After all, a majority of former athletes were now in much smaller bodies that couldn’t play anymore. Kyle was considered a top prospect!

Meanwhile Bill was experiencing the opposite end. Where as Kyle had gotten huge from the shift, Bill was on the smaller end. Previously Bill was a proud 6’3, and now as a modest 5’0 he was seeing the world from a whole new perspective. Not only had he gotten significantly younger, now around the same age as his son, but he was not blessed with the same athletic disposition. Somehow most of his body was much smaller everywhere, but he maintained a bit of pudge around the belly, almost like a reminder of the beer belly he had once before. Only now smooth with no hair. 

Needless to say, it was clear that Bill’s new body was not built for physical activity. That didn’t stop Kyle from dragging his dad to every possible gym that was open post shift. Kyle loved testing the limits of his new strength. At first, Bill liked it too. Helping Kyle reach his physical potential is what he’d been waiting for ever since he had a son. However, the longer they worked out, the more tired Bill became. Not only from the actual exercise, but also from discovering his new sexuality at the gym with all the hot guys in the area.

Bill had gone from a sternly athletic father, to a nervous gay nerd quite quickly. His behavior became more shy and reserved. He began to understand more and more why Kyle liked things like music, art, and games compared to football. Most importantly he even understood why Kyle could never focus around his athletic peers. Every time Bill and Kyle went to the gym, Bill would get distracted after a new hunk began their workout! Kyle was too, but more so happy to show off his incredible new bod!

These thoughts raced through Bill’s mind as Kyle drove them to the gym! Bill could only hope that his secret crush was there. The handsome bearded bodybuilder was a large Arab man who was some sort of janitor in his previous life. Now this guy was second only to Kyle in the gym the more he worked out and showed of his manly body. Bill had already rubbed one out in the gym locker room thinking of him.

By the time they arrived Kyle got to working out as Bill went to refill their water bottles. Then as he joined the gym floor he was stunned to see Kyle talking to the big bearded gym crush!

“Hey dad! This is Amir! I said he could workout with us. It’ll be nice lifting with another huge guy who could keep up with my lifts. Maybe if I play my cards right with him I could invite him over for dinner.” Kyle gave his dad a confident wink.

“W-what?! I mean. Are you sure? You just met him and-” Bill sputtered as the large man came over and shook his hand. The young father was mortified. The guy he’d been obsessed with at the gym. Here? Now!? Talking to Kyle!?

Amir didn’t seem very interested talking to Bill. His banter was mostly with Kyle as they worked out. The two of them matching their routines and flexing at one another. Bill was practically seething with jealousy as Kyle and Amir tossed their sweaty workout towels at him. They were so lost in their workout and getting to know one another they'd completely forgotten about Bill.

“Hey it’s pretty nice of you to bring your little brother to workout.” Amir smiled as he spotted Kyle.

“Oh that’s my dad. He taught me everything I know about working out.” Kyle corrected, as Bill blushed.

“That so? I’ll have to thank him, because he sure made a handsome son. I hope he won’t mind seeing more of me. Especially if I’m gonna be seeing more of you.” Amir arched an eyebrow and smirked.

Bill’s hands were over his face. His son was gonna start dating his gym crush. It couldn’t get more awkward than this!

[inseobts]

Paths Diverged, Hearts United

Trafalgar Law x Strawhat Reader

A/N: it’s been years since I last wrote and posted something and it’s the first time I write about one piece so please be gentle with me lmao

Summary: after liberating Wano you get offered to join a new crew and you decide to follow your heart

Warning: none!

Masterlist

The celebrations of Wano’s liberation has finally calmed. The Straw Hats, the Heart Pirates, and the Kidd Pirates stood together at the edge of the Flower Capital, each crew preparing to part ways. The bonds forged during the war were strong, but now the time had come for each to follow their own path.

You stood near the Sunny, your gaze fixed on the horizon. The others are laughing, bickering, and preparing their ships, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Your heart feels heavy, torn between the adventure that await you with the Straw Hats and the unspoken pull you feel toward Trafalgar Law.

“Y/N,” Kidd’s gruff voice cut through your thoughts. You turn to see the fiery redhead striding toward you, his usual smirk replaced with something softer. “You know, you’d make a hell of a lot more sense on my crew. We’d make a killer team.”

You chuckle, appreciating his attempt to sound casual. “Thanks, Kidd, but you know I’d drive you crazy.”

He snorts “You already do.”

His expression grew serious for a moment. “But if you change your mind, the offer stands. No strings, no pressure.”

You smile, giving him a playful shove. “Thanks, but I think the Sunny’s where I belong.”

As Kidd walks away, Law approaches from the Heart Pirates’ side. His usual stoic expression tinged with something unreadable, his golden eyes locking onto yours.

“Strawhat-ya,” he says, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re really staying with Luffy, huh?”

You nod, heart pounding in your chest “Yeah. I can’t imagine leaving them. They’re my family.”

Law nods, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting yours again. “Good choice” he says, though the tightness in his voice betrayed him.

The night before the departure, you found Law standing alone by a small koi pond in the garden. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting a silver glow over him.

You approach quietly, nerves fraying with every step.

“Law” you called softly.

He turns, his expression softening when he sees you. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

You shook your head, coming to stand beside him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like a fragile thread. Finally, you took a deep breath.

“There’s something I need to say before we leave” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

Law’s brow furrows, concern flickering across his face “What is it?”

You clench your fists, summoning the courage you need, “I’ve been holding this back for too long. I care about you, Law. More than I probably should, considering we’re on different crews. But I wanted you to know… I actually have feelings for you.”

The confession hung in the air, raw and unpolished. Law’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he was completely silent.

Then, to your surprise, he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours.

“Y/N,” he says softly, “I’ve spent so long keeping people at arm’s length. But you—you’ve made it impossible to do that. I like - I love you too.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and full of restrained passion. The weight of both your unspoken feelings melted away as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace.

The next morning, the crews gather at the docks. Luffy is as loud as ever, already shouting about the next destination. Kidd’s crew is preparing to set sail, and Law’s crew is doing the same.

You stood with the Strawhats, you heart torn but resolute. You exchange one last glance with Law, a silent understanding passing between you.

As the Sunny pulls away from the harbor, you stood at the railing, watching the Polar Tang grow smaller in the distance. Law stood at his own ship’s deck, his hand brushing against the pocket where a small piece of your vivre card rested.

You are on different paths now, but your bond is unbreakable.

Weeks later, you found yourself staring at the horizon again, your fingers brushing against the matching piece of Law’s vivre card you kept tucked away.

“Thinking about him again?” Nami teases, coming to stand beside you.

You smile sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Nami says with a grin. “It’s about time someone tied you down, even if he’s not here.”

Luffy bounded over, laughing. “Don’t worry, Y/N! We’ll see him again! And when we do, you can make him blush all over again!”

You laugh, your heart light despite the ache of missing him. You know you’ll meet again—after all, your love is as constant as the sea itself.

[imsobadatnicknames2]

But the thing is what was being argued in that post was that CR is bad because it was one of the contributing factors that turned D&D from a game that *wasn't* inherently about tactical combat into one that is, so just saying "well duh it's because it's a game about tactical combat" is sidestepping the entire argument being made.

Like yeah, nowadays D&D rules-as-written *is* a game about combat, but it wasn't always that way.

I don't know if you're familiar with any edition of D&D before 3e, but everything you're saying about how combat in Chronicles of Darkness is rare because it's so dangerous and risky for both sides is how I often describe editions of D&D like OD&D or B/X. In most old-school D&D editions, PC death is a risk that is never off the table whenever a fight is happening (especially at lower levels when even the lowliest goblin has a small but not insignificant chance to one-hit-kill most PCs).

Add to that the fact that in a lot of those editions the XP you get for killing enemies is so paltry that it makes for a pretty shitty means of advancement (compared to getting treasure which is meant to be your primary source of XP for advancement) and it becomes a game where the optimal strategy is actually to get as much treasure as possible while getting into as few fights as possible. If you try to play most old editions of D&D as a game "about" combat, instead of a game that asks you to be very careful when picking your fights, you're gonna end up having a bad time.

So like. Idk. The thing that's being argued here is that D&D being a game about tactical combat is not a universal truth, but instead the product of a shift in game design that D&D underwent imbetween the TSR era and the WotC era, with the creation of CR being emblematic of that shift in game design. So to respond to that statement by simply reaffirming that "D&D is a game about tactical combat" is a universal truth, with no argument beyond "it's descended from wargames" feels weirdly dismissive, especially coming from someone like you who I usually consider to have good, thoughtful takes on tabletop stuff.

One of the funnier manifestations of gleeblor is Pathfinder players: I'll make a post about how D&D will color people's expectations of what RPGs can be like and create a very narrow set of expectations about the medium, and inevitably some Pathfinder player will be like "haha yeah those D&D players should really broaden their horizons, Pathfinder fixes all of their issues," and my friend. I'm sorry to say this but you are not immune to gleeblor and in many regards where it comes to expectations of playstyle created by the game, your favorite game is in fact just another company copying D&D's homework and slightly altering the wording.

[paperstorm]

Thanks for the tags @whatsintheboxmh @annoyingcloudearthquake @heartstringsduet @henrygrass @thisbuildinghasfeelings and @nisbanisba! This is from Somewhere in a Song, chapter posting tomorrow :)

“Are your parents gonna come to a show?” TK asks, as they toss the empty boxes and napkins and begin to stroll side by side.

Carlos swallows. It’s a complicated question, and something he hasn’t even talked about with Grace. She knows the gist, she knows his parents aren’t as excited about his chosen career path as Carlos wishes they were, but there’s something that always scratches in the back of his skull telling him he shouldn’t be talking about them that way, even if what he’s saying is true. Obligatory respect, maybe a sprinkling of Catholic guilt, Carlos is never sure exactly what causes it. He just knows it makes him feel awful to even consider disparaging them.

“Maybe,” he says, noncommittally.

“Do they live in Austin? We have one there later in the summer.”

“Yeah.” Carlos nods. “Summer is a really busy time, though, for my dad.”

“What does he do?”

“Owns a cattle ranch just outside the city.”

TK’s quiet for a moment, and when Carlos glances over TK’s eyebrows are raised comically.

“What?” Carlos laughs.

“You were raised on a literal cattle ranch?” TK cries.

“Yep.”

“That’s incredible.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, man, you’re like an actual cowboy, not like all those guys singing about dirt roads and cosplaying as working class when they’re actually a millionaire.”

Carlos cracks up. “Damn, shots fired.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Not entirely, no. Although again, it is my dad’s ranch, not mine.”

TK grins at him. “Even still. I like that you’re authentic.”

“Thanks.” Carlos returns his smile. He’s never thought of it that way. He isn’t resentful of his upbringing but since there are things about it that he wishes were different, he’s never been as proud of it as maybe he should be. He likes the spin TK’s put on it.

“I – sorry, excuse me, you’re …”

Carlos looks up. There’s a young woman standing a few feet away from them, lips parted and cheeks bright pink. She’s staring at TK with wide eyes, and Carlos looks back and forth between them a few times, worried just for a second that she’s another person following TK around the country and showing up at his hotel.

But then she meekly asks, “Are you TK Strand?”

Carlos feels his shoulders lower.

TK nods. “I am, yeah. Hey.”

“Oh my God,” she mutters, head shaking quickly back and forth. She takes a step forward but then quickly backs up. “Sorry. I’m usually not weird.”

Laughing softly and holding out his hand, TK kindly says, “It’s okay. It’s nice to meet you.”

Something inside Carlos seems to melt, as the awestruck fan reaches out and shakes his hand. He knows a little bit about how she feels – awestruck and bowled-over. TK has that effect on people.

“Allison,” she says in a trembling voice.

“Hi, Allison.” TK nods his head to the side. “This is Carlos.”

She looks over and then comically jumps in surprise and blushes an even deeper crimson. “Oh my God. Yes, hi, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even see you. That’s so rude.”

“It’s okay,” Carlos chuckles. In an audible stage-whisper, he tells Allison, “I get it, he’s pretty impressive.”

“Yeah,” she agrees breathlessly.

“Were you at the show last night?” TK asks.

Allison shakes her head quickly. “I’m coming tomorrow.”

“Oh, great. The second night’s always better.”

With a nervous giggle, she folds her hands together and Carlos watches the color drain out of her fingers as she squeezes them. “I saw you on your last tour, you guys were so amazing.”

“Thank you.” TK says it so sincerely, and the imaginary warmth spreads to Carlos’s extremities.

“I – um. Sorry, I won’t take up more of your time, I just …”

“It’s okay, you’re good.”

Taking a breath, Allison’s eyes shine a little brighter in the lights from the streetlamps and her voice shakes as she tells him, “I know this is probably, um, trauma dumping, or whatever, but I just, um. Wanted you to know I started getting help after you went to rehab.”

Carlos glances at TK. His focus is lasered on the fan standing in front of them, a slight down-turn of his mouth but he doesn’t look upset. Maybe overwhelmed.

“I just – you had to deal with so much shit,” Allison babbles, one hand waving anxiously in a circle, “so I just wanted you to know that you also helped people. I thought if you could do it, I could too.”

“I’m so proud of you,” TK tells her, a tiny waver in his voice. “Thank you for telling me that.”

TK takes a step forward and reaches for her hand again. He takes both of them, squeezing and smiling at her, and suddenly Carlos feels very much like an intruder – like he’s eavesdropping on a private, personal moment, and yet he can’t seem to look away.

Tagging @theghostofashton @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @eclectic-sassycoweyes @carlos-in-glasses

@bonheur-cafe @actual-sleeping-beauty @herefortarlos @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo

@goodways @lightningboltreader @emsprovisions @freneticfloetry @liminalmemories21

@reasonandfaithinharmony @ladytessa74 @never-blooms @sanjuwrites @orchidscript

@lemonlyman-dotcom @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce @hereghostslive

@just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian @tellmegoodbye @ironheartwriter

@butchreyes @anactualcaseofthetruth @ditheringmind @thisbuildinghasfeelings @whatsintheboxmh

@irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @chicgeekgirl89 @nancys-braids

@carlossreaders @denizoid @everlastingday @rangersoup

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[hiddengiggles]

Let’s talk about consent and smart ways to play

Yes, consent can be revoked at any time. That’s normal and your boundaries should be reexamined regularly as part of your own check ins.

No, it doesn’t mean either party did anything wrong, it can just be a change of what either wants. Shaming either party for changing their mind serves no one. Don’t act like the person who was receiving the action is unfair or a “tease” for changing their mind. Don’t act like the person giving the action was bad or wrong for doing the thing for which they had consent at the time because you didn’t like it.

Yes, it’s awesome to be able to open yourself up and be vulnerable for different activities and kinks. When you don’t have a partner to engage with regularly, it can be thrilling to finally find a person to play with, I know.

No, blanket consent for EVERYTHING right from the jump is NOT a good idea. If you’re connecting with a play partner the first few times, start slow and expand. Feeling enough trust to give consent for some kinks can and probably should take time so uou can be really comfortably vulnerable

Yes, it is exciting to safely meet play partners from the online world when you are BOTH ready for it! When you’re safe about meeting (getting to know them slowly, setting a neutral meeting point, letting a few people know where you’re going and the name of your friend, etc) it can be a great way to get time with your kinks. When it isn’t forced, rushed, or for too long a time period, the organic connection can be magical!

No, you should not assume each party is on the same page unless you’ve communicated multiple times, especially in writing. If you had a phone call a month ago that talked about boundaries and assume all is well, you’re not actually playing safely. Some people write out rules, some BDSM players sometimes make it a “contract”, but a verbal conversation will not protect you or help you if worse comes to worst. This is especially important for partners still new to playing together. Record the hard conversations in some way.

Yes, you can start a conversation on boundaries and kinks with generalization. Example on my end, my husband and I both are okay with pictures and videos taken of us and posting them. In the early days of our relationship, we checked every time we played “Is it okay if I film this?” but after years together we’ve both agreed it’s okay to take them anytime, though we check with each other if we’re comfortable with what was captured regularly.

No, a general conversation is not enough. Continuing my example, we both have boundaries for ourselves and for each other to make sure we’re okay with it being posted (or sometimes sold). Earlier today, I put on a really pretty lingerie set for some birthday giggles. However, I stopped and asked “If you wanted to film this, would you be comfortable with me being seen in this publicly? Our usually boundaries call for a top and bottoms covering”. He paused, considered, and said no, so I put on a tank top and shorts too. Get specific with every aspect of your play, from your comfortable clothing levels, to where content can be posted, to areas you don’t want touched that day that you might normally be okay with otherwise. Assuming you already know the answer is not enough, say it again.

Consent is a lot bigger and more complicated than just this post, so talk about it A LOT with your partner(s). The biggest key to a good relationship in and out of kink (friendship, mentorship, romantic relationship) is to NEVER STOP TALKING. Communication is key, talk about your boundaries and consent over and over and over. They will change and grow, and so will you.

Mistakes and miscommunications will happen, but it’s important to talk about them like the grown people you are. A lot of consent issues with new partners aren’t malicious, they can easily stem from either party being unclear or simply not thinkinh to ask about something that could be a boundary issue. Unless it was a blatant “I KNEW the boundary and disregarded it purposely because I wanted to do it” situation, be an adult and talk about it. If you’re adult enough to be engaging in activities or kinks for adults, you need to follow through and talk about what went right and wrong. Learn and grow from the stuff you didn’t do as well before, accept responsibility for your part, and move on, with or without that partner.

[swamp-cats-den]

You are either willfully misreading it or a troll. This is a post full of notes by Ukrainians expressing disgust and hurt at our tragedy being used as a gotcha point to stick it to the US. The Onion is contributing to the dehumanisation of Ukrainians very common among the western left through pushing the narrative that Ukraine gets more attention than the situation merits completely ignoring that:

a. the russian invasion actually began in 2014 and the world gave fuck all about it

b. it only started to get proper international exposure in 2022 after turning into the biggest war since WW2, with the country possesing the largest nuclear arsenal in the world as the aggressor.

The narrative that the US gets no shit for its war crimes is false, especially when it comes to the American audience the Onion is addressing (I'm not talking about prosecution as the article isn't either, especially considering it isn't even really possible to properly do it with russians right now).

Don't even get me started on their stance on the concept of war crimes. Ukrainians striking invading russian troops could be called being photographed doing a regular war thing. Which is yes, scary, but necessary. The photo used by the Onion is a residential building deliberately targeted by a russian drone (this is not a collateral damage). These two situations are not the same, the latter is considered a war crime for a reason, equating it with the former would be refusing the victim the right to defend themselves. The Onion blurrying the lines here is not as peaceful and progressive as one might think.

And of course, they give their sassy 'definition' where a war crime is only considered such if it's done to a white person, deliberately painting Ukrainians as 'privileged', and, therefore, not as deserving of sympathy(who cares that 8 years of war crimes being committed against us before 2022 got fully ignored, and the current ones are not in fashion to talk about either - I'm in international circles a lot, and no one mentions Ukraine anymore). But honestly, even if my points about years of indifference and the sheer scale of the war weren't true, even if it was a minor conflict that got immediate undivided attention, using it for gotcha points would still make one a piece of shit, and if you don't get how infuriatingly dehumanising it is, I don't know what else to say to you.

really don’t think the onion got taken to task for this enough post-bucha

look at the date.

[earlycuntsets]

those on tumblr that fwm in anyway!

I have not checked my notifications in a week. so sorry to anyone I haven't gotten back to.

i'm leaving. happy 1000 followers to me!!! lol but I might come back in some capacity but not rn. just until personal stuff has been handled. maybe once a week. i've got a lot of post ideas so i'll come on here if I find anything really good. but I have a bad history with social media consuming my brain.

this tumblr has been fully added to earlycuntsets.org and posts will continue from there, but I am not gonna be on here very much.

i've gone through some mental stuff interacting on here. I have a substance issue rn that i've been trying to get ahold on since september. my full statement is on earlycuntsets.org

I felt so broken up really. this thing mcr that we all love so intensely.

I don't want to see that get ruined for me. the negative connotations with my account because I flipped out on mcr archive people. talking about that will get me nowhere because no one understands my side. about 4 people on here understand my side.

and for the first time yesterday, I considered apologizing. just to ease my own pain around this. you want to know the truth?

I wanted to work with them obviously. I wanted to do what they do is that clear enough?

it was hard for me not to be aggressive when you be me. from the start they just wouldn't respond to me. I would find cool stuff and send it to them. I just thought they'd be more accessible to fans.

and then the only time I have heard from them was for them to judge my website when I spend every extra moment i'm not at work on this one thing. this one thing that is my only expression of love to mcr.

AND SO I gotta get out of the social aspect. it's making me overthink my every move.

I am going to be spending less time on here and more time on my website.

I have moved this whole blog to my website and just updated 840 posts to have links/tags/titles that function. I need to figure out a few things but I won't rest until it's easy to navigate. and perfect. lol there are dead pics and video on the blog section. there are pages of posts that don't have preview images. the site overall is undercuntstruction.

I was actually looking at hulus set up with the "carousel" things for each category. I am having fun and i'll probably make an mcr netflix idk. big grandiose bipolar dreams. that I hope to see through.

my website will be like this (2002 is the only one done rn) so the layout now is:

the google drive part

the 2002 blog part (everything from here)

the sources and links

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝒷𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝓈𝓊𝒾𝓉 𝜗𝜚 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒, 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑒𝑜

· ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── · 

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Who doesn’t love a good bunny suit fanfic? This little piece was inspired by the incredible artwork of @alienfreak124. I’m always in awe of her creations—her OC is so cool! Honestly, every time I see her work, I wish I had the talent to draw. T-T Always wanted to see what my OC would look like in the Tkatb fandom.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

Also, I’ve been thinking about branching out into other fandoms—Creepypasta is definitely at the top of the list since it was such a huge part of my childhood. Ticci Toby has always been my favorite, and I’m super excited to dive into that world. I’m also considering Death Note and Black Butler, but who knows? 

For now, I’m pretty set on exploring the creepy side first, especially with all the dark, twisted fandoms.

Anyway, I’ve got about three fics in the works for these lovely men—Crowe, Sol, and Geo. But it’s gonna be one day at a time because, let’s be real, I need to stop posting these things so damn late. College life is getting hectic, but I’m making it work, even if it means less sleep.

Priorities, right?

· ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── · 

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

You’re in your room, standing in front of the mirror, tugging at the hem of a plain black dress.

It’s simple, safe, and exactly the kind of outfit you’d usually wear to a small party. You tilt your head, trying to decide if “simple” is too boring. The party isn’t exactly a big deal—just a casual gathering—but there’s a nagging thought in the back of your mind: 

Crowe’s going to be there.

Before you can overthink it, there’s a sudden knock at your door. “Hey! Open up!” Brittney’s voice is unmistakable—high-energy and impossible to ignore. You sigh, already knowing she’s about to upend whatever plans you’ve made for the evening. 

When you open the door, Brittney bursts in like a hurricane, her arms overflowing with what looks like… fur? No, it’s worse. It’s a bunny costume—a black bodysuit with matching ears, fishnet tights, and heels so high they look like a twisted form of punishment. 

“Oh no,” you say immediately, holding up your hands in protest. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on!” Brittney waves the outfit in front of you like it’s the Holy Grail. “It’s perfect! It’s fun, it’s flirty, and you’ll steal the spotlight! Imagine the look on everyone’s faces when you walk in wearing this. Especially Crowe.”

Your stomach flips at the mention of his name, but you shake your head. “There’s no way I’m wearing that. I’ll look ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous?” Brittney scoffs, planting her hands on her hips. “Please. You’ll look hot. Besides, when was the last time you did something bold? Live a little!” She leans in, grinning mischievously. “And, you know, Crowe might notice.”

You roll your eyes, but you can feel your resolve cracking. “Brittney, I’m not trying to ‘steal the spotlight.’ I just want to blend in.”

“Blend in?” She gasps like you’ve just insulted her personally. “Blending in is for cowards. And you’re not a coward, are you?”

“...You’re guilt-tripping me.”

“Is it working?”

Unfortunately, yes. You stare at the bunny suit like it’s a wild animal that might bite you, but part of you can’t help wondering: What if Brittney’s right? What if Crowe actually notices?

“Fine,” you say, at last, snatching the costume from her hands. “But if I look stupid, I’m blaming you.”

Brittney claps her hands in triumph. “You’ll look amazing, trust me! Now, hurry up and get dressed—I need to see the final look.”

You sigh and shut the door, holding up the bunny suit with a mix of dread and curiosity.

This is either the best idea or the worst mistake.

The moment you step into the party, a hush falls over the room—or at least it feels like it. The warm glow of string lights strung across the ceiling doesn’t do much to soothe the nerves twisting in your stomach. You keep your head down, gripping a drink you barely remember picking up, and try to focus on anything other than the fact that you’re dressed like a bunny in a room full of people dressed... normally.  

Brittney, of course, is loving every second of it. She’s practically glowing as she flits around the room, dropping comments like, “Isn’t she adorable?” and “Doesn’t she look amazing?” to anyone within earshot. You glare at her from across the room, but she just winks and mouths, “You’re welcome.”

You hover near the edge of the crowd, trying to blend into the background. It’s ironic, considering the ridiculous outfit, but you figure if you keep still enough, maybe no one will notice. That plan works for about five minutes—until you catch a familiar figure out of the corner of your eye.  

Crowe.  

He’s leaning against the wall near the bookshelf, casually sipping from a glass, his posture as effortlessly relaxed as ever. Even in the soft glow of the party lights, he’s sharp, dressed in his usual clean, put-together style that somehow manages to look both formal and casual at the same time. He always looks like he belongs on a magazine cover—button-up sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he listens to someone talk.

You freeze, torn between retreating to the nearest shadowy corner and pretending you haven’t seen him, or... well, doing something else. But then, as if sensing your eyes on him, Crowe looks up—and the moment his gaze lands on you, it’s like the rest of the party fades into the background.  

You brace yourself, half-expecting him to laugh or make some snide remark. Instead, his eyebrows lift slightly, and the corner of his mouth quirks up into what might just be the faintest hint of a smirk. He takes another sip of his drink, sets the glass down, and begins making his way toward you.  

Oh no.

Before you can figure out an escape route, he’s standing in front of you, tall and composed, with that cool, unreadable expression that makes your heart do ridiculous things.  

His expression is calm and unreadable, but there’s a sharp glint in his eyes that immediately sets you on edge. The drink in your hand suddenly feels useless as you clutch it tightly, wishing you had anything to focus on besides the way Crowe’s gaze is very obviously trailing over your bunny suit. Slowly.

“Nice to see you decided to... dress up,” he says, his tone dripping with amusement as he comes to a stop in front of you. His eyes flicker from your bunny ears to the tights and back to your face, where your mortified expression only seems to fuel his teasing.

“This wasn’t my idea,” you say quickly, feeling the need to defend yourself. “Brittney made me wear it. She said it’ll steal the spotlight or whatever…”  

Crowe raises a brow, his smirk deepening as he leans just slightly closer. “Oh, I believe you. But she didn’t make you come to me wearing it, did she?”

You sputter, your face heating up. “I didn’t come to you! You walked over here!”

“Did I?” he asks innocently, his smirk widening into something outright devilish. “Must’ve been the bunny ears. Hard to miss.”

You glare at him, your mind racing for some kind of witty comeback, but it’s hard to think when his gaze keeps darting to your legs, the curve of your waist, and then back to your face, like he’s deliberately making a show of it.

“Well,” he says after a beat, his tone maddeningly casual. “She wasn’t wrong.”  

Your brain short-circuits. He did not just say that.

“Excuse me?”  

“About the spotlight,” he clarifies, his smirk softening into something almost... fond. “You’ve certainly got everyone’s attention.”  

You rolled your eyes, “You’re ridiculous,” crossing your arms over your chest.

“And you’re very bold,” he counters smoothly. His voice drops a little lower, just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Not that I’m complaining, of course. But I’m curious—how many people have tried their luck with you tonight?”

Your eyes widen. “W-what?”

You can’t decide whether to tell the truth to him or strangle him. 

“Come on,” he says, his smirk turning positively wicked. “In that outfit? You must have half the room staring. Though...” He leans in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I doubt anyone else is appreciating it quite as much as I am.”

Your breath hitches, and you’re sure your face is about to burst into flames. “Crowe, you can’t just—”

“Say the truth?” he interrupts smoothly, stepping just close enough that you can catch the faint scent of his blueberry cologne. “Oh, I can. And I will.”

You open your mouth to argue, but before you can, Crowe’s gaze shifts, scanning the room. The teasing glint in his deep blue eyes is replaced with something sharper, almost protective, as he takes in the prying eyes of the other partygoers.

“Too many people here,” Crowe mutters, his voice low enough that it feels like the words are meant only for him. Then he glances back at you, his eyes softening in a way that makes your breath hitch. “Let’s leave.”  

“What?”  

“I said, let’s leave.” His hand brushes lightly against your elbow, the fleeting touch sending a spark up your arm. His gaze lingers on you, unreadable but heavy with something unspoken. “Unless you’d prefer to stay here and let everyone keep gawking at you like you’re... on display.”  

Your eyes dart around the room, catching glimpses of the subtle but unmistakable stares in your direction. The air feels suffocating now, and the idea of staying in this crowded space seems unbearable. Still, you hesitate, caught off guard by the sheer intensity of his presence.  

“Fine,” you say at last, forcing an air of nonchalance even as your pulse quickens. “But if you’re planning to tease me, I’m leaving the second you start.”  

Crowe chuckles—a deep, smooth sound that does nothing to steady your nerves. “Don’t worry,” he says, his lips curving into a slow, knowing smirk as he places a hand lightly on the small of your back to guide you toward the door. “I’ll behave.”  

You’re not entirely convinced, but before you can second-guess your decision, the two of you are stepping into the cool night air. The sharp contrast to the party’s stuffy warmth sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not just the chill that has you trembling.  

Crowe’s steps are deliberate, his presence magnetic as he walks you to his car. He unlocks the passenger door with a smooth motion, holding it open for you before rounding the car to slide into the driver’s seat. The quiet thud of the door closing feels heavier in the silence, the hum of the engine breaking the tension only slightly.  

“Brittney’s going to wonder where I went,” you say softly, partly to yourself, as Crowe pulls out of the driveway.  

“I’ll text her later,” he replies, his tone calm but firm. “She’ll survive.”  

The car is dimly lit, the glow of passing streetlights casting fleeting shadows across his sharp features. You can feel his gaze flicking toward you every so often, lingering just long enough to make your skin tingle.  

He doesn’t speak for a while, but the silence between you isn’t uncomfortable. It’s charged—like the air before a storm. You’re hyper-aware of every detail: the way his hands grip the steering wheel, the faint scent of his cologne filling the small space, the way his jaw tightens whenever you catch him sneaking glances.  

“You shouldn’t let her talk you into things like that,” he says suddenly, his voice lower now, almost rough.  

“Like what?” you ask, even though you know exactly what he means.  

He glances at you briefly, his lips pressing into a thin line before his expression softens. “Like wearing something that makes every guy in the room look at you like they’ve forgotten how to think.”  

The words are sharper than you expect, tinged with an edge of possessiveness that makes your breath catch.  

“I thought you didn’t mind people staring,” you counter, trying to keep your voice steady.  

“I don’t,” he says, his fingers tightening on the wheel. “Unless it’s you.”  

The confession hangs in the air, heavy and electrifying. You look over at him, your heart pounding in your chest. There’s no teasing smirk now, no easy charm—just raw, unguarded honesty in his gaze as he pulls the car to a stop at the side of the road.  

He turns to face you fully, his expression unreadable but his eyes dark with something unmistakable.  

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, the words rough with restraint.  

Your lips part, but no sound comes out. The heat in his gaze is overwhelming, and you feel pinned in place by the sheer intensity of it.  

“I’ve been trying to keep my distance,” he continues, his tone rough and uneven now, “but seeing you tonight, dressed like that, letting everyone else see you like that…” He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “It drove me crazy.”  

The air in the car feels thick, charged with an unspoken tension that’s almost suffocating. Your pulse pounds in your ears, your breaths shallow as you sit still, unsure of what to say—or if there’s even anything you should say. The silence stretches out, heavy and electric, until Crowe shifts closer to you, his movements deliberate yet almost hesitant.  

His hand rises, and for a moment, you think he might stop midway. But then his fingers gently brush against your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch is light, almost feather-soft, yet it lingers—his fingertips trailing against your skin just long enough to leave a burning imprint.  

“Please tell me to stop,” he murmurs, his voice deep and velvety, the faintest edge of uncertainty in his tone. 

A shiver races up your spine at the feel of his touch, and the heat of his proximity makes it impossible to think straight. Your breath hitches, and you swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. You manage to meet his gaze, his eyes dark and searching, as though he’s looking for any sign of hesitation.  

“And if I don’t want you to stop?” you whisper, your voice trembling but carrying a weight of undeniable desire.  

His breath catches, his chest rising sharply as though you’ve just knocked the air out of him. His eyes widen, a flicker of disbelief flashing across his usually composed face. His lips parted slightly as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he tilts his head, studying you like he’s trying to convince himself he heard you correctly.  

You don’t reply right away—words feel clumsy in the intensity of this moment. Crowe’s gaze lingers on you, steady and deliberate, traveling down the length of your figure and then back up again. His eyes seem darker in the dim light, their usual cool detachment replaced by something unreadable, something that makes your pulse race. His smirk is still there, faint but unshakable, as if he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.  

Your breath catches, and for a second, all you can think is how badly you don’t want this moment to end. Then, before your mind has time to catch up, your body moves on instinct. Slowly, deliberately, you take a step forward, closing the distance between you.  

His head tilts slightly as he watches you, his smirk faltering for just a heartbeat as you climb onto his lap. Your knees press into the seat on either side of him, the soft material of your tights brushing against his thighs.  

For a brief moment, neither of you speaks. The air feels heavy, charged with something neither of you can name. His reaction is immediate—sharp and visceral. He inhales quickly, his chest rising under yours, and his hands lift instinctively to your hips. His grip is firm yet hesitant, his fingers flexing slightly as though he’s testing the reality of the situation.  

You’re glad you caught him like this—off-guard, unguarded. It’s rare to see him anything but composed, but now? Now, his usual confidence feels shaken, his calm veneer cracking just enough to let you peek underneath.  

“No,” you whisper, your voice low and thick with emotion. “Please don’t stop.”  

The tension in his shoulders eases, but only slightly. His body remains taut beneath yours, every muscle coiled like a spring. His hands tighten against your hips as if anchoring himself—or maybe anchoring you. He leans forward, and the closeness is dizzying. His breath fans against your neck, warm and teasing, and goosebumps rise across your skin in response.  

His lips hover near your ear, his voice low and husky, dripping with intent as he murmurs, “Then I won’t.”  

The promise in his tone sends a shiver down your spine. His hands shift from your hips, sliding upward in slow, deliberate movements that leave you breathless. His thumbs trace over your waist, the faintest pressure sparking heat in their wake. His fingers move higher, brushing against your sides, and you can’t stop the way your body responds, arching slightly into his touch.  

Crowe’s lips ghost against the edge of your jaw, and you swear the world narrows to just the two of you. There’s nothing but his touch, his breath, and the sound of your heartbeat thundering in your ears.  

May got a little carried away here…

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

You don’t know how it happened. 

So okay, you do know how it happened—you were dumb enough to bet against Hyugo. The guy might be obnoxious, loud, and silly as hell, but unfortunately, he’s also good at literally everything. Somehow, that fact slipped your mind when you let him talk you into betting on the last round of a stupid game.  

It was one of those chaotic, anything-goes types of games, the kind where people are shouting over each other, rules barely make sense, and luck has just as much sway as skill. You don’t even remember what it was called—something involving a blindfold, ping pong balls, and a lot of yelling. I’m kidding here…

All you know is that Hyugo had that stupid grin on his face, the one he always wears when he knows he’s about to win.  

“Come on,” he’d said, his voice dripping with smugness as he leaned against the table. “You scared or something? What’s the worst that could happen?”  

And like an idiot, you fell for it. “I’m not scared,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You’re on.”  

Big mistake.  

Because five minutes later, you were standing there in stunned silence, staring at Hyugo’s triumphant face as he held up his winning ping pong ball like it was an Olympic gold medal.  

“Wow, that was almost too easy!” he said, laughing as he clapped you on the shoulder. “You really thought you could beat me?.”  

You scowled, already regretting your life choices. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. What do you want?”  

His grin widened, and you instantly knew you were doomed. “Oh, don’t worry,” he said, his voice practically oozing with fake innocence. “It’s nothing crazy. Just a little outfit change for, let’s say... an hour?”  

Your stomach dropped. “What kind of outfit change? I have a movie night at Sol’s place later,”  

And now here you are, standing in Sol’s dimly lit studio apartment, wearing a bunny suit that makes you feel about three sizes too exposed and questioning every decision you’ve ever made.  

The small space smells like popcorn and energy drinks, and there’s a paused horror movie on the screen, but all of that pales in comparison to the look on Sol’s face.  

He hasn’t stopped staring since you walked in.  

The guy is sitting on his beat-up couch, one leg tucked under him, the TV remote hanging limp in his hand. His mouth is slightly open, and his face?  

Bright red.  

Like, glowing tomato-red, borderline matching the devil on the movie poster behind him.  

“…What are you doing?” he finally chokes out, his voice cracking just enough to make you raise an eyebrow. He clears his throat and tries again, this time deeper: “I mean, what’s this?” He gestures vaguely at you, but his hand is shaking a little, so it’s not exactly smooth.  

You cross your arms, trying to tug the hem of the skirt down, but there’s no saving it—it’s just too short. “Lost a bet to Hyugo,” you mumble, your voice flat, as if that explains everything.  

Sol squints at you, the disbelief radiating off him in waves. “Hyugo made you do this?” His tone flips between outraged and incredulous. His eyes dart down to the whole getup—bunny ears, fishnets, the thigh-high socks—and then snap back up so fast you think he might’ve given himself a neck cramp. “Ugh… He’s the worst sometimes.”  

“Yeah, thanks for the groundbreaking insight,” you deadpan, shooting him a withering glare. “I figured that out the moment Hyugo handed me this thing.”  

Sol drags a hand through his perpetually messy hair, clearly grappling with some kind of inner turmoil. “You didn’t have to wear it, though,” he mutters, his usual grumbly tone edged with something oddly defensive. “You could’ve just… I dunno, said no.”  

You blink at him, unimpressed. “Oh, sure. And let Hyugo post that video of me tripping like an idiot in front of the entire campus? An excellent alternative, Sol. Really genius stuff.”

He makes a weird noise in his throat, half a groan, half something else, and he mutters, “Still better than this…” But his eyes betray him.

Because despite the whole “ugh, this is dumb” act, Sol keeps looking. Like, really looking. His gaze lingers on your bunny ears, the curve of the bodysuit, and the thigh-high socks that are making you wish the couch would swallow you whole. Every time his eyes travel down, they snap back up so fast you’d think he got whiplash.

“What’s your problem?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest, mostly for your sanity. “You’re staring.”

“I’m not—” He cuts himself off, dragging his hand down his face with a groan. “Whatever. I’m not the one dressed like…” His words trail off as he waves vaguely in your direction, his ears reddening again as if even describing the outfit is too much for him.  

You sigh and plop down on his old couch because there’s literally nowhere else to go in this shoebox of an apartment. As soon as you do, Sol freezes like you’ve just stepped on a landmine. His whole body stiffens, his hands gripping his knees, and you swear he stops breathing.

“Relax,” you say, kicking off your heels with a sigh. “It’s not like I want to be here in this dumb outfit either.”

“You don’t look unhappy,” he mutters, barely audible, but you catch it.

Your head snaps toward him, catching the faintest flicker of his eyes darting to your outfit before immediately locking onto the popcorn bowl on the coffee table like it’s his last lifeline. His face is ‘burning’, and it only gets worse when he realizes you caught him looking.  

“Excuse me?” you ask, leaning in slightly because you can’t let him off the hook that easily.  

“I didn’t—” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat so violently it’s almost painful. “I just meant—uh, never mind.” But his ears are practically glowing, and you can feel the tension radiating off him in waves.  

“Sure, okay,” you say, smirking as you settle deeper into the couch, fully intending to mess with him now. “It’s not like you’ve been staring at me like a creep since I walked in or anything.”  

“I wasn’t staring!” he blurts, far too defensively for someone who was. He drags a hand through his hair, the strands sticking up even more as he groans like he’s on the verge of losing it.  

“Oh, you weren’t?” you tease, tilting your head. “Are you calling me a liar?”

He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes flicking to your legs for half a second before darting away. His hands curl into fists on his lap, and his breathing sounds... uneven.

Fast.  

One second, you’re sitting on the couch, awkwardly avoiding his gaze, and the next, you’re swept up off the cushions. His arms slide under you, one wrapping around your back and the other hooking beneath your knees, lifting you effortlessly into a bridal carry.  

“Sol!” you shriek, your hands instinctively grabbing onto his shoulders. “What are you—put me down!”  

But he doesn’t. Instead, he lowers himself back onto the couch, keeping you securely in his hold. Your legs dangle awkwardly over his arm, your heels threatening to slip off, and you’re acutely aware of how close your faces are now—his warm breath brushing against your skin, his sharp eyes fixed on yours.  

“Relax,” he mutters, his tone gruff but oddly soft. “You were fidgeting too much. Thought you were about to hurt yourself or something.”  

“Hurt what now?!” you snap, glaring at him even as your cheeks flush. “I wasn’t—Sol, that doesn’t even make sense. Let me go.”  

“Not yet,” he says simply, his grip tightening slightly as if daring you to try and wriggle free.  

You glare at him, but the heat of his gaze makes it hard to keep your composure. His eyes flicker down for a moment—trailing from your flushed face to the curve of your legs draped over his arm. He’s trying to play it cool, but the way his jaw clenches and his ears turn a faint shade of pink gives him away.  

“Your legs are cold,” he murmurs after a beat, his voice quieter now.  

“I wonder why,” you deadpan, trying to ignore the way your heart skips at the hint of concern in his tone.  

His lips twitch a shadow of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I told you this stupid outfit wasn’t practical.”  

“Well, I didn’t exactly pick it,” you grumble, squirming slightly in his hold.  

“Stop moving,” he mutters, his voice dropping an octave. His hands shift slightly, one sliding along your back and the other brushing against your thigh as he adjusts his grip. The casual intimacy of it makes your face burn hotter.  

“Sol...” you warn, your voice shaky.  

But instead of answering, he leans back slightly, settling you more comfortably in his lap. The movement makes your head spin—partly from the sudden shift, but mostly because of how close he is now. You’re practically curled up against his chest, his arm still supporting your legs while his other hand rests firmly against your back.  

And then he looks at you again. Really looks at you. His orange-red eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, the teasing, grumbly version of Sol you’re used to is nowhere to be found. There’s something different in his expression now—something serious, almost vulnerable, and it steals the breath from your lungs.  

“You should be more careful,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing lightly against your knee. His hands slide from your hips to your legs. “These heels could’ve hurt me,” His thumbs trace slow, deliberate circles along the tops of your thighs, sending shivers up your spine.

Your mouth opens to respond—maybe to defend yourself, maybe to yell at him, you’re not sure—but then his hands shift lower, skimming over the curve of your calves. He grabs one of your feet, his fingers curling around your ankle as he starts tugging off your shoe.  

“Sol, I can do that myself—”  

“No,” he snaps, but there’s no malice in his tone. His cheeks are pink, his expression strained like he’s trying to keep it together. “Please, just let me.”  

You’re too stunned to argue. He’s slow about it, almost hesitant, his calloused fingers brushing against your skin as he removes one shoe, then the other. When he’s done, he lets his hands linger for a moment, his thumbs brushing over your bare ankles.  

His eyes flicker back up to yours, and there’s something desperate in his expression now like he’s holding himself back from doing something stupid. “Why do you always have to make this so hard?” he mutters, half to himself.  

“I’m making 'it' hard?” you blurt, your voice shaky.  

“You showed up like this,” he counters, his gaze sweeping over you again. “Looking like... this.”  

He leans closer, so close you can feel the heat radiating off him. His hand slides up, tracing a line from your ankle to your knee, then up your thigh, stopping just shy of where the hem of the bunny suit begins. His knee presses a little closer, and you suck in a sharp breath.  

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.  

Your brain short-circuits. You don’t even know how to respond to that, especially not when his eyes are locked on yours like he’s waiting for an answer.  

“Sol,” you finally manage, your voice barely audible. “You’re being weird.”  

“I know,” he mutters, his lips twitching into a crooked, almost self-deprecating smile. “I’m always weird. But you make it worse.”  

And with that, he dips his head lower, his breath ghosting over your lips like he’s daring you to stop him.  

Please don’t make him stop…

✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜

Geo hadn’t thought much about your text at first.

You were running late—what else was new? He was used to it by now. You’d told him to let himself in with the key under the mat since you were still getting ready, and, well, that’s what he did.

Your apartment was as familiar to him as ever: the faint smell of your scented candles. Geo plopped onto the couch, scrolling through his phone to kill time. After about ten minutes of waiting, he sighed loudly, tossing his phone onto the coffee table.

“Why do I let you do this to me?” he muttered, dragging himself to his feet. He made his way down the hall, the hardwood floor creaking faintly under his boots.

The door to your bedroom was cracked open, soft light spilling out into the hallway. He tapped lightly on the frame with his knuckles. “Hey, we’re gonna be late, y’know. What’s taking you so—”

He pushed the door open mid-sentence, stepping inside. And then he stopped.

His brain short-circuited.

There you were, standing in front of your full-length mirror, fiddling with a pair of floppy bunny ears.

A very, very skimpy bunny suit clung to you like a second skin, all shiny black fabric and sheer tights that showed just enough to drive someone insane. The plunging neckline, the dangerously high cut of the bodysuit, the tiny bowtie collar around your neck—it was absurd. Ridiculous. And yet somehow…

You looked stunning.

Geo froze in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His trademark sarcasm, his quick wit, his effortless aloof expression? Gone. 

His brain? Absolutely empty. 

His mouth opened like he wanted to say something—anything—but no words came out.

You noticed him then, spinning around so fast that your bunny ears flopped dramatically to one side. “Geo!” you shrieked, your voice an octave higher than usual. “What the hell are you doing? I thought you were on the couch.”

“What am I doing?” he echoed, his voice cracking slightly as his eyes flicked over you, up and down, up and down, like he couldn’t stop himself. He quickly snapped his gaze upward, focusing on the very uninteresting ceiling. “What the hell are you wearing?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s for a charity event,” you muttered defensively. “Crowe asked me to help raise donations.”

Geo’s jaw clenched, his fingers twitching at his sides as he tried to keep his gaze anywhere but directly on you. His eyes betrayed him, though, darting back to your legs, your waist, your— “What kind of charity involves… that?” he asked, gesturing vaguely at your outfit like it was some kind of alien artifact.

You groaned, turning back to the mirror to adjust the bunny ears again. “It’s a themed event, okay? College students are more likely to donate if there’s… I don’t know, incentive?”

“Incentive…?” Geo repeated, “And Crowe ask you wear that? Crowe?” His tone was somewhere between disbelief and outrage. “What is wrong with him? Is he insane?”

“It’s not that bad,” you said defensively, though your voice wavered because, yeah, it was kind of bad. “It’s for a good cause!”

Geo crossed his arms, his lips pulling into a tight line. “No. Nope. Not happening. You’re not walking out of here dressed like that. I don’t care if it’s for world peace.”

You threw your hands up. “What are you, my dad? Relax, Geo. It’s fine.”

“Fine?” He frowns, irritated, his eyes accidentally drifting downward before snapping back up to your face. He looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. “You look like—you—ugh, never mind.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I look like what?”

“Forget it.” he sighed, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. “Just… just go change or something."

“I can’t!” you said, exasperated. “This is the whole point of the event!”

Geo groaned, dragging a hand down his face in pure exasperation. His usual sharp wit was dulled by whatever internal battle he was clearly losing. “Why do I have to be the one to see this? Literally anyone else would’ve been better. Anyone.”

You crossed your arms, giving him an incredulous look. “You’re the only one with a car who wasn’t busy,” you shot back, matter-of-fact as ever.

Geo huffed, throwing his hands up dramatically. “You should’ve just taken the bus, then!”

“And have creepy men ogling me the whole ride? Absolutely not,” you retorted, your tone sharp. “You’re a much better option. Like it or not.”

“Well,” he muttered, clearly flustered as his hand shot to the back of his neck, his eyes darting anywhere but at you, “I’m regretting it now.”

You sighed, turning back to the mirror and fiddling with the bunny ears again, your patience wearing thin. “Look, if it’s that big of a deal, just wait outside. I’ll be done in a sec—I just need to put on my shoes.”

For a moment, you thought he might actually listen. But then Geo took a step closer, his posture shifting. The embarrassment still lingered in his tense shoulders and flushed face, but there was something else now—something almost… resolute.

Before you could ask what he was doing, he reached out and grabbed your wrist, turning you around so fast you nearly stumbled.

“Geo?” you asked, startled by the sudden intensity in his gaze.

He didn’t answer. Instead, without missing a beat, he pushed you backward with a firm but careful hand, and your back hit the edge of your bed. You let out a startled gasp, barely managing to catch yourself as you propped up on your elbows.

“Hey! What the hell—”

You froze as Geo knelt in front of you, his hand gripping your ankle firmly but gently. His other hand reached out for your heels, which had been discarded nearby, and he snatched them up with a quick, fluid motion.

“You need to hurry up,” he grumbled, his voice low and laced with irritation as he slid the first heel onto your foot. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingers brushing against your sheer tights as he adjusted the strap. His face, however, was a different story—flushed red and rigid, like he was barely holding himself together. “So just—shut up and let me handle it.”

You blinked, your mouth opening to protest but no words coming out. Geo hadn’t spared you a glance, too focused on fastening the strap with a level of concentration that was almost comical.

“You’re—” you finally managed, but your voice wavered as his hands moved to your other foot.

“And you’re taking forever,” he shot back, not missing a beat. His grip on your ankle tightened slightly as he secured the second heel, his eyes resolutely fixed downward.

Is he blushing?

Your eyes narrowed, “You seem red there,” you teased, leaning back on your hands and watching him with a growing smirk. “What happened to all your sarcastic remarks, Mr. Smartass?”

“Shut up,” he muttered through clenched teeth, still not looking at you as he finished adjusting the second strap.

His fingers brushed against your ankle again, lingering just a second too long, and you swore you saw his ears turn even redder. Deciding to test your luck, you slowly crossed one leg over the other, making the movement deliberately graceful.

Geo’s aquamarine eyes flicked up instinctively at the shift in movement, and when he realized what he’d done, he snapped his gaze away so fast it was almost whiplash-inducing.

“Stop doing that,” he muttered, his voice lower now.

“Doing what?” you asked, feigning innocence as you tilted your head and batted your lashes at him.

“You know what,” Geo shot back, his jaw tightening as he focused way too hard on the buckle of your heel, his fingers fumbling slightly.

“Aw, is Geo embarrassed?” you teased, leaning forward just enough to invade his space, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. “I didn’t think you’d get so flustered over a little outfit.”

His hands froze mid-motion, and for a moment, you thought you’d broken him. Slowly, his gaze lifted, locking with yours. Big mistake. His aquamarine eyes, usually narrowed, were now clouded with something unreadable. He didn’t look away, though—he couldn’t seem to. Whatever sarcastic retort he had locked and loaded vanished the second your teasing grin softened into something more curious.

“You don’t get it,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet but firm, his tone a complete shift from his usual snark.

The intensity in his voice caught you off guard, and your smirk faltered. “Don’t get what?” you asked, your playful tone slipping into something more hesitant.

Geo’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white as if he were trying to hold something back. He stood abruptly, the sudden motion making you flinch slightly. His eyes immediately flickered with regret at your reaction, and he took a deep breath, trying to collect himself.

“Shit,” Geo muttered under his breath, running a hand through his already messy hair. His back was turned to you, but the stiffness in his posture betrayed his frustration. He exhaled sharply, shoulders rising and falling as though wrestling with something he couldn’t quite say.  

“Geo…” you started softly, the sharp edge in your tone from earlier now replaced with concern.  

“Don’t,” he cut you off, his voice strained and hoarse, like the words were being dragged out of him. “We’re not going to the charity event. You’re staying here. End of discussion.”  

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “What?” you exclaimed, still perched on the edge of the bed. “You can’t just decide that for me!”  

He turned to face you, amber eyes blazing with a mix of irritation and something you couldn’t quite place. “Watch me.”  

Before you could react, Geo stalked toward your desk, snatched a hoodie draped over the chair, and swung it around your shoulders with surprising precision. His hands lingered just long enough to tug it snugly over your frame, the fabric swallowing the delicate silhouette of your bunny suit.  

“You’re not going anywhere in that,” he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. He stepped back slightly, his gaze flicking over you as though ensuring his makeshift cover-up was secure. “If Crowe wants donations that badly, he can wear the damn bunny suit.”  

Your jaw dropped, words caught somewhere between outrage and disbelief. “Geo, you’re being absolutely insane!”  

“Yeah, probably,” he admitted, flashing a grin that was more sharp edges than warmth. “But at least I’m not letting you walk into a room full of idiots who won’t be able to keep their eyes—or their thoughts—off you.”  

Heat crept up your cheeks at his bluntness, and you folded your arms tightly across your chest. His words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding, and the tension between you grew like a palpable thing.  

“You’re seriously overreacting,” you muttered, but your voice lacked its usual bite.  

“Am I?” Geo shot back, stepping closer. His towering frame cast a shadow over you as his gaze locked onto yours, burning with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. His voice dropped, low and deliberate. “Do you even realize how—” He stopped abruptly, his jaw clenching as if swallowing the words was the only way to keep them from spilling out.  

“Realize what?” you pressed, your own voice barely above a whisper now, caught somewhere between defiance and curiosity.  

Geo’s hand shot up to rake through his hair again, the other curling into a fist at his side. His eyes darted to the floor, then back to you, before he let out a low, frustrated growl. In one swift movement, he stepped forward, his hands gripping your shoulders as he pushed you gently but firmly down onto the bed.  

“Geo, what the hell—”  

Your protest was cut short as he followed, his weight settling over you in a way that was far from aggressive but left no room for escape. His arms slipped around you, pulling you into a tight embrace as his head dropped to your chest.  

The world seemed to stop as you felt the warmth of his breath against your collarbone. He didn’t say a word, his face buried against you, his grip almost desperate.  

You froze, your hands hovering uncertainly in the air. “Geo?” you murmured, your voice soft and unsure.  

“Just… shut up for a second,” he muttered, his voice muffled against you. His tone was softer now, tinged with vulnerability that made your chest ache. “Let me have this.”  

Your hands hesitated before they slowly lowered, one settling against his back, the other threading cautiously through his hair. His body tensed at first but then melted into yours, his hold tightening as if he were afraid you’d disappear.  

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he mumbled, his voice raw and unguarded. “And not in the way I’m used to handling.”  

For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of his words—and his closeness—stealing the air from the room. Whatever you were going to say died on your tongue as you let the moment stretch, the sound of his breathing steadying against you.  

“Geo,” you said finally, your voice quieter now, “You’re not making any sense. We’re going to be late for the event,” you murmured, trying to keep your tone soft but firm.

“Good,” he muttered into your chest without lifting his head.

“Good?” you echoed, your brows furrowing. “Crowe’s going to kill us if we don’t show up. And you promised to drive me, remember?”

“I don’t care about Crowe or the stupid event right now,” he grumbled, his voice low and slightly muffled. “It’s not important.”

“Not important?” You leaned your head back against the bed in disbelief. “You’re acting like the world’s ending because of a bunny suit, Geo. What’s really going on?”

He finally lifted his head slightly, just enough to look at you. His amber eyes burned with an intensity that made your breath catch. “You don’t get it, do you?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, a mix of irritation and something deeper. “I don’t want anyone else looking at you the way I am right now.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his words sinking in and leaving you momentarily speechless. “Geo…” you started, but he didn’t give you a chance to finish.

Instead, his arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer as his lips brushed the curve of your neck. You tensed under his touch, your breath hitching as his teeth gently grazed your skin.

“Just give me five minutes,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine. His lips pressed softly against the spot he’d just bitten, lingering for a moment before pulling back slightly. “Five minutes, and then I’ll get up, and we can go. Deal?”

You blinked, trying to process what just happened, your body feeling like it was on fire where his lips had been. “Geo, that’s not—”

“Five minutes,” he repeated, cutting you off. His tone was quieter this time, almost pleading as his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a vulnerability he rarely let you see. “Please.”

Wow. Five minutes it is then.

· ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── · 

[sonnabug]

Idk Republicans sure like rage against the machine. You can listen to Hoizers music and not be political, you can listen to his music and hold the exact opposite political opinions to him. I just feel like these posts miss the point. People can coopt and claim what ever they want, and they will, and they'll continue to do so.

I'm a pretty politically opinionated person, I'm very left wing, and honestly I didn't know nor do I consider his music deeply political. Take me to church is the only song of his I found political.

I'm the onky one out of 500 people here that probably disagrees. And I'm not saying he isn't political, I'm saying people will continue to either casually listen to something without dissecting it or people will straight up ignore and blind them selves to the real message. But I think most of his music is actually just about being a bit horney sad and in love.

System of a down is deeply political and even they have songs about absolutely nothing. Not everything has a meaning actually.

Just a reminder that listening to Hozier and not caring about politics is not something you can do. You can't listen to his music and not care about the world. You can't just ignore the political messages in his music. A big part of Hozier as an artist, and as a person, is bringing awareness to different issues and standing up for human rights. You can make jokes about him being otherworldly and a tree man because yes, a lot of his romance and morbid songs surround the physical earth it self but you cannot take away the years he's spent discussing human rights issues. He didn't spend 10 fucking years creating incredible albums riddled with songs like Take Me To Church, Nina Cried Power, Foreigner's God, Cherry Wine, and Eat Your Young just to have the political context, a.k.a the heart and soul of those songs, to he ignored. His "aesthetic" is not fairies and forests and skinny white girls in pretty dresses, his "aesthetic" is confronting the government and its corruption to shine light on issues that have been ignored for decades. You can't listen to Hozier and claim to love his music while not paying attention to the world around you.

[botanphal]

THE VIVIBELLA BIBLE IS HERE AND IT’S QUEER

ENJOY

PREFACE

so you’re probably wondering. What is this weird sapphic tirade of 3K words? Well, this “note bible” was originally something I was going to keep for myself but figured others may want to see it too. This document is similar to a character bible, hence the name, except it’s more of a deep dive into two particular characters, strung out like notes. Please keep in mind that this document does not go into every idea I’ve had about these two but is more or less the basic ideas for the sake of consistency. This goes over canon and non-canon information which are separated so you know what’s true vs my own interpretations, though depending on which version of this post you’re reading, you may notice that there’s only canon information—which is more or less to let you have your own ideas from their purely canon-selves without the inspiration of my own non-canon ideas—the cut version of this document is also considerably smaller (1.7K). If you’re not on the canon cut version, then obviously the previous statement can be ignored. Regardless, I hope you have fun reading!

BOTANPHAL/PALIN’S VIVIBELLA BIBLE

LINKS

Just some links to their actual profiles for ease of access, as well as quotes and their theme music

Goombella:

https://www.mariowiki.com/Goombella

https://www.mariowiki.com/List_of_Goombella_quotes

https://youtu.be/1EmkKFaT7V4?si=erWshNwVBU5sfbo_

Vivian:

https://www.mariowiki.com/Vivian

https://www.mariowiki.com/List_of_Paper_Mario:_The_Thousand-Year_Door_quotes_by_character_(S–Z)

https://youtu.be/6WubRL1mPlQ?si=cY_tWs5TwyKZsr39

ESTABLISHING THE IDIOTS

let’s get down the gist of these sillies!

Goombella:

A junior at the university of Goom majoring in Archeology and seems to also consider herself a historian

- sassy, genuinely seems like she’d bite people’s fingers off sometimes

- nerd (but would backfire if you called her that given the note above)

- confident (of course, there are moments where she loses this but most of the time she seems rather self-actualized about things)

- kind, but does tend to poke fun at others (I can’t believe she called Koops cringe)

- curious

- knowledgeable (though she does make her mistakes regarding things like being fooled by Doopliss)

- excitable (after reading her dialogue over and over she uses a LOT of exclamation points. Girl calm down)

- kind of a hot head at times and jealous type, especially with how Ms. Mowz goes after Mario (Goombella definitely had a crush on him as well) and snaps back a lot though this could just be related to her mentioned sass

- this isn’t so much a character trait but she says “totally” a lot as well as “oh my gosh” which this one may be a catchphrase

Non-canon interpretations:

- has ADHD, needs meds or she loses her mind and becomes scrambled (top of the line “gifted” kid)

- possibly has a fear of heights given her comments at Hooktail’s castle making her nervous

- most Goombas seem to have two prominent fangs so I assume she’s missing one

- half Australian and half Maltese (has slightly an Australian accent but mostly sounds American)

- intersex, given Goombas are based off of mushrooms (and also chestnuts but I digress) and mushrooms are intersex, took estrogen to appear more feminine and identifies as a woman (this still applies to her gijinka, just that her species of demi-human is also all intersex)

- futch (femme/butch, will wear either or-or dress equal)

- has a lot of (unsuccessful) relationship experience which adds to her anxiety about her feelings for Vivian, specifically having dated three other people

- Full name is (Goom)Bellami Alessia Bones (Goom is a family title and not actually required to say, though she prefers to be called Bella than Bellami)

- 21 years old (while she has no confirmed age her being in her early 20s makes the most sense given she’s a Junior at university)

- has an earthy/dirt yet flowery scent

- has a cut on her right eyebrow

- loves savory flavors but occasionally enjoys spicy and sweet (Goombas have a main diet of meat so she tends to eat a lot of that)

- executive dysfunction sometimes causes her to not clean herself, but if someone complains then she will (she tends to carry around a perfume bottle)

- pansexual (possibly a coping lesbian)

- (gijinka) is missing the majority of her right forearm though she has a prosthetic for it (was born like that) and is missing almost all of her left arm aside for the shoulder (incidental)

- swears fairly often

Vivian:

Youngest of the three shadow sirens/sisters with the ability to use fire magic

- shy/somewhat reserved (opens up more later on, still shy but less reserved)

- cutesy (how the fuck did she speak with a heart symbol in one of her quotes)

- graceful

- polite

- sweet/kind (there should be no mistake to how far Vivian’s forgiveness goes considering she’s willing to forgive her own family that abused her for years—Vivian disowning them is not something Vivian herself would do)

- empathetic/sympathetic (I think about her random glitz pit dialogue a lot and how she worries if her and Mario did a bit too much on the enemies. But also she sometimes says “NO MERCY” she’s so silly)

- curious (moreso about most things being new to her due to being sheltered by her sisters for so long)

- submissive, though gains some confidence later on (this is just my own take but I feel like it’d take her longer than it does in-game to be more confident given the severity and length of abuse she experienced)

- struggles with an inferiority complex (this is actually a canon thing and made mention of) at the hands of her sisters abuse

- says “gee whiz” a lot, might be a catchphrase

- tends to stutter when nervous (possibly easy to fluster, especially considering she likely has not received a lot of compliments in her life)

Non-canon interpretations:

- possibly has athazagoraphobia (the fear of being forgotten) or just has general struggles with the concept

- given her trauma (mental/emotional abuse, unsure if there’s ever been physical though in one of the translations of the game Beldam apparently starved her, neglect from Marilyn), she probably would struggle with depression, anxiety and PTSD

- dysphoric, obviously feels better about herself the further into her transitioning (something about Vivian makes me feel like she’d struggle with dysphoria—it’s already a lesser discussed topic among fictional transwomen and given Vivian’s upbringing I think it’d make sense that she particularly has this and would make mention of it)

- she’s autistic and I can’t exactly explain why but someday I will (this very well could be projection uhhh. Anyway she probably doesn’t even know she has it or what it is, has had struggles to learn magic as the ways her sisters were trying to teach her weren’t working for her)

- demisexual-biromantic (I feel like it just makes sense for her to be this way given how she warms up to Mario and the same would apply to Goombella)

- has a beautiful singing voice partially learned from vocal training herself, however she is also called a shadow siren

- a piece of the Shadow Queen, her future

- has no exact ethnicity hc aside for being black as a gijinka, she’s something else entirely and can speak all languages (including sign language and braille) but mainly speaks English and Latin (if she were to be an actual human she’d be Eritrean and Sammarinese)

- femme (specifically loves to wear flowy things like dresses and skirts, the most “masculine” thing she’d wear is a suit)

- Has no full name, simply known as Vivian (if her and Goombella were to marry then she’d be Vivian Bones :flushed:)

- 20 years old

- has a smoldering lavender scent

- (gijinka) actually lost one of her legs while learning to veil, simply conjured up a convincing new one that she can freely remove

- can swear, refuses to do so (she’s too nice and polite the silly thing)

- is a pure-magical being so she requires frequent mana consumption to live, fire flowers are her favorite thing to use for this

- unaffected by fire and heat, can touch it without pain, body temperature is always high, only sweats when she’s sick, it’s very unusual for her to feel cold

- loves sweet, spicy and hot flavored things

- very clean, loves to shower or bathe (sometimes very atmospheric about it with hot water and candles)

- I like to think that she becomes a bookworm and wants to learn more about magic, but also reads up on psychology after the things she’s been put through

- shadow’s eyes are extremely sensitive to light, their hats have magical properties that keep them safe and shadow over them, without it she can only open her eyes in complete pitch-darkness, otherwise she keeps them closed (their gloves also work as buffers for their magic to make spells less intense, they’re sorta limiters in a way, Vivian especially has to wear them due to having fire powers and well… fire is commonly seen as destruction more than life)

- left handed, can use right okay

- knows how to cauterize wounds using her magic

- during new moons her appearance changes to more resemble the Shadow Queen, gaining more shades of purple and little stars speckling all over her, as well as having her eyes always shown

HOW THE FUCK DID WE GET HERE?

vivibella stems from Goombella’s tattle dialogue during the first battle with the three shadow sirens as shown:

note that this dialogue varies from the original GameCube version of the game compared to the Switch remake above:

unfortunate how the dialogue was nerfed compared to the original, making her seem jealous rather than having some kind of sapphic awakening but now I think of it as she’s deflecting what she’s feeling

DYNAMICS

- has a sort of opposites attract kinda thing going on, Goombella being the more open and expressive one while Vivian is the shy and reserved one

- enemies to friends to lovers

- love triangle (for the fact they both had a crush on Mario at one point but Goombella never seemed to be bothered by Vivian’s feelings for him unlike how she’s felt about the other women pining after him, she probably respects Vivian’s feelings for him given what he meant to her)

- the studier (Goombella) and one to be studied (Vivian) idk if there’s an actual name for this dynamic but I went into this concept a bit in this tweet:

- yapper x listener (I don’t think I have to explain who is who)

THAT ITALIAN GUY

Before we get into the meat of vivibella, it must be understood what Mario meant to these two. As it goes in TTYD, Mario for some reason is just a MAGNET for ladies and Goombella and Vivian are no exception to this, most of the female characters seem to express having a crush on him but let’s take a look at them individually:

Goombella particularly seems to fall under having a crush on him but she’s rather dismissive of it/acts like she doesn’t in a teasing way. She expresses jealousy whenever other female characters pursue him (think of Flurrie and Ms. Mowz, even speculates on Lady Bow post-game) but doesn’t with Vivian, likely due to the fact that Vivian doesn’t express her feelings for him around anyone (aside for the finale) considering during Chapter 4 it’s only her and Mario together when she kisses him—we don’t exactly know how Goombella would feel about Vivian’s feelings for Mario, but I think she’d probably be the most respectful to her given the things she’s been through and how Mario helped her open up and improve. During her letter to Mario at the end of the game, she talks about a “secret” which I imagine has to do with her crush on him, but she doesn’t follow through with it likely due to Mario’s pursuit of Peach

Vivian and Mario have a much deeper relationship compared to all the female characters that fall for him. Vivian definitely has a crush on him but also seems to actually be in love with him given the events that transpire; Mario helping her through her trauma and accepting her without question and also being a lending hand to someone in need despite his own troubles at the time of having lost his name, body and trusted companions. Even after realizing who he is and leaving given that he was her enemy at a certain point, she comes back upon realizing what he showed her and valued that over everything else as being the first person to EVER be kind to her. She turned her back on her family for him. During the final battle Vivian attempts to confess to him as well as during the end of the game when he’s leaving, but hesitates again due to the fact that she knows that he’d choose Peach and even thinks that the two would make a great couple. I’m sure it would be hard for Vivian to move on from him, he’s probably the first person she’s ever loved in such a way and again, he’s the first person to show her real kindness

THINKING TOO HARD

Goombella is obviously the one to crush first given her tattle dialogue, she may be kinda sassy about her feelings for her when teased by others but when she’s actually around Vivian she’s more reserved and anxious due to her shy and gentle nature, in some ways I feel like she may fear possibly scaring Vivian away by being too forward and is also afraid of the possible rejection as she’s aware of Vivian’s feelings for Mario despite him eventually not being in the picture (and of course possibly being unaware to the fact that Vivian is bi). Goombella’s probably very likely a girlfail and a fumbler when it comes to flirting but god if she isn’t confident about it and Vivian finds it endearing. I think it makes the most sense for her to confess later on as I’m sure she probably reaches some form of boiling point and just drops all her words out after being unable to hide it anymore (Vivian doesn’t like to assume things about others typically so that’s why I don’t see her confessing first instead)

Goombella falls first but I feel like Vivian would fall harder as the two of them grow closer, Vivian already experienced rejection from Mario so in some ways she probably wasn’t expecting to find successful love anytime soon nor in a more similar way to how Mario was with her. Of course, Goombella isn’t exactly like him at all but the kindness and patience is still there, albeit with some attitude which Vivian doesn’t mind. I think it would take a bit for Vivian to catch onto Goombella and her own feelings given her experience with Mario. This being her second experience with love, she’s definitely very inexperienced regarding all of it which is why she holds back. With my hc of Goombella having been through her own form of transition, a lot of comfort is to be found there for Vivian as they’re somewhat similar due to that. I don’t think Vivian really knows how to flirt but she’d give lots of compliments and do gestures, she’s also a girlfail but in a graceful way and tries not to show it, she’s kinda a secret dork (and I mean. With the fact she stutters when nervous. There isn't anyway this girl isn't also a girlfail of her own like come on now)

Regarding my own lore, I like to think that these two live together in Goombella’s Uni dorm after the events of TTYD. Vivian switches on Fridays to live with her sisters then back with Goombella the following Friday so on and so forth to help rebuild a healthy connection with them while with Goombella she explores herself given she’s been stuck with her sisters for so long. Their situation isn’t helped by the fact that they have to share a bed due to the limitations of Goombella’s Uni dorm size, though it is fancier as it’s more like an apartment with separate rooms, (basically consists of two small bedrooms, the other bedroom being her roommate’s, a living space and kitchen combo as well as a bathroom) still small though

Goombella tends to go to Flurrie for advice regarding her feelings for Vivian, while Vivian goes to Lady Bow after forming a friendship sometime after TTYD’s events. I also like to think that Flurrie and Lady Bow end up coming together to scheme about the two of them (neither are aware of this until they start dating)

Their relationship builds off of living together and Vivian learning about herself, Goombella there to guide her as someone who already knows her own life and the steps she took to get to where she’s at—the two spend a lot of time together obviously and Goombella strives to try and get something out of the two of them than just a friendship given her own growing feelings, even if it takes being more patient

Even on the weeks when Vivian’s living with her sisters Goombella tends to visit her and hang out, sometimes sleeping over as well. Vivian along the way starts to realize how Goombella’s care for her is much deeper than she originally thinks it is—in some ways Vivian already feels inspired by someone like her who is so confident and self assured, she could use someone like her to give her a nudge in the right direction

They probably even go out on adventures together which further strengthens their bond, which of course may stir up trouble and that leaves room for needing to rely on each other or help each other in such times of need (who doesn’t love some hurt and comfort mmmm)

CLOSING STATEMENT

Anyway, that’s really all I have though I have a feeling that even AFTER publishing this I’ll be still tweaking this until the day I die. I love these two very much if that uh….. Isn’t obvious at all. uh huh. I hope you gained some kind of enjoyment and understanding out of all this gay nonsense from these strange little sapphic creatures that have been rotting my brain for months :3

the canon version of this post will come out soon! This just took so long to do I’m going to explode rn