#am i wrong?? i would love to be wrong. but from my perSPECTIVE THIS IS A TERRIBLE IDEA LMFAO

[hibou088]

Little answer because I thought that the above comment was genuinely interesting and worth responding to because it did expose lots of things that the blackpill community (myself included) is guilty of. I am answering only because I want to clarify my perspective, not because I want to stir up some drama. Also, I am not sure if OP was directing this comment towards me in particular but it does not matter, I will answer it anyways :

1.'The spirituality thing is being used to assert a superiority complex ("I've overcome my lusts, therefore I'm better than those whores that don't"). These people haven't overcome their vices; they just transmuted their repression into anger and hatred'. I seriously believe that Spirituality is the end-goal. As I said in the original post, no philosophy will ever satisfy you and everybody will end up being disappointed by their own movement (whether because of its members or because of the shifting beliefs). The example I had in mind were obviously liberal feminism, radical feminism and blackpill feminism. I grew disillusioned with feminism because I first grew disillusioned with women. I sincerely believe that feminism is utterly useless and is mostly a psyop to convince sane women that they are oppressed, when that is not true. It is a movement that mostly benefits OSA women, that is the reason why lesbians and celibate females will always be on the backburner of this movement. About the 'superiority complex', if I am being honest with myself, I sometimes am guilty of it and so are lots of self-identified 'blackpilled' women. And while I am not defending such complex, it is quite difficult not to feel superior to the women who constantly objectify themselves and see themselves as nothing but sex-dolls. Having dignity and self-respect does make you a better person than the ones who do not. That is why some of my posts are berating the collective of women : it is hard not to feel frustrated and angry when everytime you see a female entertainer, she is half-naked, when everytime you talk to a random woman, she centers her whole universe around men. But I DO agree with the last sentence : lots of 'blackpilled' feminists hold very controversial views I simply do not agree with and that was the reason why I made that original post in the first place. Tons of them are indeed not enlightened and are simply projecting their own insecurities and inferiority complex into the collective of women and rationalizing it by refering to a warped perception of biology every 5 seconds. Once again, one could say I am 'blackpilled' because I fully acknowledge the fact that most women are only loyal to men and that they do not value freedom nor autonomy. Having said that, I also do not think that this behaviour is only explained by 'biology' since I think that our environement is also to blame but women are simply too lazy to grow out of their delulu views about men, romance, motherhood and life in general.

2. 'The whole thing is cringe and reeks of an extreme version of "not like other girls" especially with the allusions to Christianity and thinking that the male saints would vouch for them? If you're a masculine-leaning lesbian, the saints would be saying you have the spirit of Leviathan (or Lilith if you're feminine).' Once again, if you are not partaking in the same actions the majority partakes in, what does that make you ? It does make you different from others. Not being interested in dating males or having kids is ENOUGH to set a woman apart from 90% of the female population. It is not a contest when we say we are different, it is simply a fact. I have absolutely nothing in common with a male-centered woman / pickme. We are on a whole different level of conciousness. About the Saints, I do love their writings and there is nothing wrong with it. The early Saints or Mystics were very enlightened and had thought-provoking takes on tons of subjects. They simply recommanded living a celibate lifestyle and fasting and praised anyone who engaged in that kind of life. Them being males or females makes absolutely no difference. Saints corresponded with each other and praised each other for the honorable way they lived their life, they supported each other. Also, unless you have a proof of what you are asserting (that being 'masculine-leaning' would have you being accused by the Saints of being possessed), this statement is pointless. Saints more often criticized the most feminine women, the ones who paraded around town wearing expensive clothing and were boastful, while they praised the women who had nothing to do with that sooo ??? Celibate women who devoted themselves to God, no matter their physical appearance, were lauded while married women were lowkey frowned upon.

3. 'When you get to a certain point in spiritual development, you are supposed to have a measure humility and be able to meet others where they are at their own level - not denigrate them because they lack the frame of reference that you have to know the things you know. And ironically, these women exhibit the same catty behavior that they attribute to the normie women who caused their disillusionment with feminism in the first place.' It is the most interesting and truest part of the comment. I may have being guilty of not being humble enough because I did take pride in not following the societal blueprint we are 'supposed' to follow. But, one has to admit that it is quite infuriating seeing grown women with tons of life experiences behaving like idiots and then complaining about the consequences of their very own actions. Women in their 30s pulling the 'nobody told me motherhood was going to be hard' card for example is quite comical and embarassing for obvious reasons. It is not 'lacking the frame of reference', it is simply being reckless and stupid. Women are purposefully staying ignorant. Saying that women in general are delusional and are not making the best choices for themselves or the world is not being condescending, it is simply pointing out the obvious. Saying that women are responsible for their own actions is not denigrating them. Saying that sex is degrading is not a proof of feeling superior to anybody. It is simply stating a fact.

On Blackpill feminism and its limits

I agree with the foundational principle of blackpill feminism : that the world is sex-addicted and that nobody is a victim, especially women. I also agree with the fact that most women have no self-preservation instincts nor integrity since they lust after men and that penis is the only thing worth protecting for lots of them.

Having said that, I think that, just like any other philosophies, blackpill feminism will end up reaching a dead-end. Lots of women started off as neutral, then considered themselves libfems but unsurprisingly got disappointed by the ideology so they turned to radical feminism, only to once again reach a dead-end, which 'radicalized' them and made them go 'blackpilled'. The world and its philosophies are like that : they will always disappoint you.

That is why, after being disappointed so many times, lots of women end up becoming very 'bitter' and angry at women. I do not criticize that behavior as I am frustrated and embarrassed on a daily basis when I take a look at the average woman's choices. Yet, it only lasts for a couple of minutes. Why ? Because I simply do not care. That is the reason why I made the 'Having a savior complex' post : to help the people who needed to hear that you do not have to care about others, especially women's self-imposed oppression !

Every movement or philosophy should be a stepping stone to Spirituality. Period. The world is deceiving and no matter what you identify as, the Truth will never be found unless you go within and start looking for answers. That is the reason why even blackpill feminism is limited : its adepts usually go around in circles repeating the same thing. And while lots of its self identified members are very lucid about males and females' behaviours, which is very refreshing and pleasing in a world that seeks to hide the truth, some of them have fallen into the trap of becoming very 'extreme' if I can call it like that. I have seen some posts saying that women are biologically 'inferior' to males for instance, and it kind of baffled me. It is the vicious circle in which some blackpilled women fall into : rightfully criticizing males then rightfully criticizing females, only to end up saying 'actually men are right and women are biologically inferior lol'. I do not agree with this reasoning.

Ironically, my reasoning incorporates both 'feminist' logic (if we can call it like that) and 'blackpilled' logic. I believe that biology oppresses females (and males for that matter) but that in the females' case, biology could also be a huge product of our environment. Obviously, I am not saying this to excuse females' behaviours as I have already made two posts explaining that females are NOT victims and should NOT use the 'socialization' excuse to justify their dumb choices. However, I think that socialization does shape biology in a huge way and that it is up to everybody to identify the lies we have been fed since forever and transcend our socially imposed limitations. Just like how craving extreme sugary shit like candies is not inherent to us and that ads try to make us crave these candies.

I once saw an anti-sex post claiming that 'Even though sexual desire is biological, it has still been biologically manufactured into the human race'. And I agree with that. The link between hypersexuality in teenagers and our hypersexual media is obvious for instance.

That is the reason why, even though there are lots of brilliants minds that came out of the 'blackpill feminism' movement, I believe that this philosophy should direct us towards Spirituality, which is the Supreme and ONLY way to live your Truth. It is the final destination of our lives.

[bri-cheeses]

| Rosekiller microfic (songfic? idk) | Word count: 641 |

A/N: For better reading experience, I recommend listening to “Brividi” by Mahmood and Blanco, considering that this was based off the chorus of that song

Barty laid next to Evan, goosebumps raised on his skin, head turned so he could better examine the other’s boy’s features.

Evan was sound asleep in Barty’s bed. His lips were parted slightly, and his head rested on the spare pillow that had found its way there sometime after the thousandth occurrence of this happening.

Evan’s eyelashes were long and fluttered slightly as he breathed in and out, naked chest rising and falling evenly as he slept. Something about the way he looked when he was sleeping, soft and unguarded and so painfully lovely, reminded Barty of what he had realized not even three days before.

Barty was in love.

He was in love with someone who understood him, who enjoyed his company, who was beautiful inside and out.

And he wished he could tell Evan, but every time he tried, something in him stopped the words before they ever made it past his lips.

Evan was amazing. He the best thing to ever happen to Barty, and sometimes Barty thought that if he were given the chance, he could love Evan more than any human had ever dared to love another.

But Barty knew that he messed up, over and over and over again, and that he would only hurt Evan if they tried for anything more. The strength of his love threatened to be all-consuming, to chew them both up and spit them back out again. He just didn’t know how to love someone without hurting them.

Barty would sacrifice the world for Evan—he’d known that for a long time. But he had never been certain that he wouldn’t accidentally set the world on fire before handing it to Evan, burning him in the process.

And Barty didn’t want to burn Evan. He didn’t want anyone to hurt Evan, much less for him to be the one to do it.

But as he lay there, he had the sneaking suspicion that he already had.

When he had first kissed Evan, he hadn’t done it because he loved him, he had done it simply because he wanted someone to kiss. And Evan had kissed him back without any hesitation, eager and hungry as they fell into bed together. Barty had thought they wanted the same thing—someone to get off with, something easy and uncomplicated.

But afterwards, when Barty had said as much, he had seen something shatter in Evan’s eyes. Evan had mumbled a quick, “Right”, then made up some excuse to leave.

Barty had blinked, and Evan was picking up his clothes from beside the bed. He had blinked again, and Evan was gone.

But it had happened again. And then again. And it had kept on happening, until Evan wasn’t leaving immediately afterwards, and Barty had realized that he didn’t want Evan to leave at all.

That’s where it had gotten so incredibly complicated, full of messy emotions and misunderstandings. Full of cracked hearts and longing glances, words thought but never spoken.

Sometimes, Barty thought that if he were offered a magic ticket that could take him far away from all of it, take him away from the perilous cliff edge he was dangling off of, he didn’t think that he could refuse. Even if it cost more than money, Barty thought he would be willing to pay the price.

Because the price of the ticket for the other route, the one toward Evan instead of away, was something vital in Evan that Barty knew neither of them could afford.

Barty messed up, and he messed up bad. And he might dream of that destination, the one marked simply “Evan”, but he couldn’t let himself board that train. Evan’s loveliness wasn’t worth it.

So he merely laid there, silently staring at the boy he loved, and tried not to shiver as the goosebumps spread further across his skin.

[duvewing]

little pet peeve of mine is when a person’s only idea to make kyrie a ‘stronger character’ is to just give her a sword

[girlwiththegreenhat]

sorry is it just me or is thsi the funniest and worst idea i've ever seen. i would not want to get a tattoo at an anime convention

[kittlyns]

It's always a little surreal for me when a parent commends me on being good or patient with their child cuz I'm quickly reminded that they have no idea the only group of people I'm truly comfortable around are kids

[temptresstitania]

if it doesn't sound fetishistic to say you're attracted to people with long hair or freckles or wide hips or dark brown eyes that look almost black, then it shouldn't sound fetishistic to say you're attracted to fat people. If it's not inherently a fetish to say you like people with sculpted backs or toned arms or six packs or small breasts or a coke bottle figure, then why would it be fetishistic to like a soft face with a double chin, or a round stomach, or big legs rippling with cellulite or stretch marks on rolls. you can find a fat person attractive. you can love the way their cheeks press up to meet the corners of their eyes, or the way their arms look, or the way their love handles spill out of their clothes. you can just. like fat people. you can say you like fat people. do you ever think how strange it is? how someone may think you're some sort of "perverse" weirdo for just...liking a body? how strange it is to put these precursory disclaimers of "not to be weird, but", "I don't mean it in that way, but", "I'm not a chubby chaser, but", or "I know it's kind of problematic, but..." could you imagine if it was any other body?

"not to sound like a muscle gain fetishist, but I love women with athletic bodies. It might sound weird, but I love short kings. I don't mean it in a weird way, but I love girls with hip dips."

It would seem strange. unnecessary. one may even assume there is some sort of guilt or fear you're hiding because it's normal to have things you like. it's normal to find certain things cute, hot, sexy.

you can sexually desire fat people and enjoy that they are fat. you can do that.

also, if you genuinely have a fetish (or deep sexual attraction if u for whatever reason are uncomfortable with the word fetish) for something that is found on larger bodies (bellies, fupas, thighs, underarms with fat/breast tissue in them, sagging breasts, big arms with skin that wobbles, cankles), or for a bigger body in and of itself (because I know some of y'all still want to sever yourselves from this), there is nothing wrong with that. people have fetishes for hands and teeth and earlobes and kneecaps and butts and shoulders and calves. what makes their thing any more acceptable than yours? there is nothing wrong with being aroused by bigger bodies.

please do not add tags and reblog this with "except when such and such is involved". I am not bringing those situations up for a reason. do not attempt to pivot this post into a thinkpiece on the objectification and/or abuse of fat bodies, ESPECIALLY if you yourself are not fat.

this is coming from the perspective of a Black person. Namely, a Black Nigerian-American person. Where I come from, there is a cultural, pre-colonial practice of gaining weight (and yes, particularly getting fat) to accentuate beauty. my body was handed down to me lovingly by my ancestors. i love my fat.

and if you love it too, that's okay. ♡

[randompiecesofwriting]

Wrong Name (Part 2)

Summary: Part 2 of Wrong Name ft. an accidental proposal

Pairing: Jack Abbot x reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warning: None! Just super cute!

Author’s note: And I present a part 2 I honestly never thought I would write! Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who left likes reblogs and comments they all mean that absolute world to me I love hearing about your favorite parts it absolutely makes my day and I hope you like this part too!

Check out part one here!

He thought he had learned to stop being so surprised to see you just show up at the hospital.

It was always with an excuse, dropping off food for the staff, meeting him after a shift to walk home, giving him something he had forgot at home, but he thinks you actually just like being around, and the rest of the doctors of the Pitt certainly felt the same way. He was pretty sure they just texted you, asking you to come when they needed you, and you never hesitated to follow through.

It was nice to have someone outside of the Pitt. It was something he learned early on with you. Nice to have someone with what felt like objective eyes on the good and the bad, who could give perspective from a point of view other than a medical professional. And somehow, you’ve become that person for the people in the ED still too new to have that network yet.

So maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised to see you sitting on a bench across from the hospital, drinking a beer from a familiar looking cooler, surrounded by familiar looking young doctors.

“Have my med students kidnapped you” a part of him relished the way everyone in the group but you jumped a little at his voice, their immediate reaction to try and hide the beer as if they had been caught doing something wrong.

All except you who grinned up at him from the bench, tilting your neck back eagerly to give him a quick kiss in greeting with a hum of approval. “Kidnap? Please, I think I could take them”

Mel’s head tilted slightly to the side as if trying to figure out whether you were joking or not while Javadi’s eyes go wide and bounce rapidly between the two of you still trying to figure out if she was somehow going to get in trouble for this.

It was Whitaker who pipped up to fill the silence “Well Santos knows Krav Maga”

You looked at the intern with a raised brow, watching as she tried to bite down and hide her proud smirk behind her can. “That’s okay she’d be on my side”

“Damn right I would” she responded immediately, clinking her can against yours in a toast as you chuckled.

“Well now that your white knight is here what do you say we head home” he cut in putting a hand on your shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze.

“And that kiddies is my cue” You gave a dramatic groan as you stood up, raising your can in front of you to address them “to my favorite doctors in all of PTMC who work under Dr. Abbot” you gave a pause for dramatic effect “who I am incredibly proud of and did amazing work today”

Javadi gave a snort at that “you weren’t even here to verify that”

“Oh those weren’t my words” you assured her quickly “those came directly from Jack”

“Now hold on” he tired to interject but you steamrolled ahead.

“Goes on constantly about how proud he is of you guys”

“Wait a second”

“How you are the best residents he’s ever had”

“I certainly didn-“

“And that you’re all getting raises”

Jack tried to swallow back the chuckle that ruminated in his chest “And with that we are leaving”

You chuckled fondly at him, Jack beyond powerless to do anything but smile softly back at you.

“Alright I will see you all…probably fairly soon you’re kinda stuck with me now”

Mel pipped up just as you started to retreat “we’re still on for Friday right?”

“Yes” You responded eagerly, making your way over to Jack and not hesitating to take his hand in yours, giving the fingers a reassuring squeeze “your sister’s okay with it right?”

“Of course she is she likes you” Mel rolled her eyes like it was obvious only making your grin widen.

“Good I like her too. But I wanted to check. You can’t just crash a King sister tradition without checking” Pulling softly on his arm you started to lead Jack away from the benches, still calling out back behind you “text me if she doesn’t want me to come, no hurt feelings got it?”

Mel gave you a thumbs up in response, you just about to finally turn around and leave with Jack before Whitaker called out again.

“Goodbye Mrs.A-“

“Whittaker you finish that sentence I’ll sic Santos on you”

And finally, finally Jack had you all to himself. A comfortable silence falling over the two of you as you started to make the familiar trek home.

“You’ve met King’s sister?”

“You haven’t?”

And all Jack could do was laugh because of course you have. Of course you knew all about how she spent her time outside of work. Of course you had gotten yourself invited to their family tradition.

But still his mind was stuck on one particular part of that conversation. Unable to stop himself from asking even as he felt he shouldn’t. “Have you ever thought about it? Being Mrs. Abbot”

“Of course” you answered so quickly, so thoughtlessly, as if those two words hadn’t made his heart stutter in his chest “that’s why its written in pink glitter pen on every page of my diary”

And maybe you noticed the way his smile didn’t fully reach his eyes, or the way his laugh didn’t live in his chest as it normally did, but something made you pause before giving a more honest answer.

“Yeah I’ve thought about it”

He let the answer hang for a bit, let you enjoy yourself watching him squirm before he spoke “and?”

Like he knew you would you grinned back at him. Giving your interlocked hands a little swing “and I think I could go either way”

“Really?” he asked with a raised brow “you have no opinions?”

You shrugged in response “I think I’ve decided my priority is you.”

And truthfully he didn’t know what to say to that. In all the ways he had envisioned this conversation going, all the possible answers you could have given that was not one he had prepared for.

“I like what we have going” you shrugged, giving his hand a soft squeeze “we’re good. I like the idea of making it official, I don’t need it though” And finally you looked up at him, a soft smile on your lips, nothing short of complete devotion in your eyes “at the end of the day I’m going to spend my life with you Jack Abbot and there’s nothing you can do about it”

That finally pulled a real laugh out of him, the kind that rumbled deep in his chest, as he forced the two of you to stop, an action you didn’t seem at all surprised by.

He brought his palm up to cup your cheek, fingers threading lazily though the hair behind your ear as he rubbed softly back and forth on your skin, taking a moment to truly look at you, appreciate the beauty of the person he was so unfathomably lucky to call his. “You promise?”

“For you my dearest Jack Rabbit” you declared with a grin, going up onto your toes until your nose touched his, finishing on a whisper “I vow it”

-

“You know you two aren’t being subtle” Jack hadn’t even bothered to look up as he said it, had in fact spent the better part of the day avoiding their gaze as much as possible.

“Well I wasn’t going for subtle. Dana?” Robby stated matter-of-factly, glancing over at his charge nurse as he said it.

“I was going for overt” she shrugged.

And Jack knew exactly what their expressions would before he looked up, could guess the mixture of barely contained mirth and disappointment that would paint their features without needing to confirm.

“Well if you could keep your overt stares to yourselves that would be great”

“What is it Jackie-boy is it the ring?” Dana ignored him, leaning forward onto her forearms from across from him, bending down and seeking his gaze just as he usually did with people “I told you the ring’s perfect. It matches all of the stuff she already has well”

“No it’s not the ring” Jack cut her off with an annoyed look, keeping his head pointed down at the charting he had abandoned long ago “now if you excuse me some of us have a job to do”

“Well if not the ring then what?” Robby jumped in, mirroring Dana’s stance as he did so, the two doing their best to present a unified front, a fact that almost had Jack chuckling despite himself “You know when I told you she was too good for you I was mostly joking”

With a dramatic sigh Jack finally straightened and looked at the two across the desk from him, resigning himself to the fact that there was no escaping this conversation for much longer “no it’s not-“

“Dr. Abbot” Mel King his saving grace appeared next to him effectively catching the attention of all three of them, Jack more than happy to distract himself with whatever case she needed him on than withstand anymore grilling from his two so-called friends.

“Yes Dr. King”

“I just wanted to ask if-“ and he spoke too soon.

“No” Jack effectively cut off the line of questioning, turning back to his chart physically putting an end to the conversation

“But I just think that-“ Mel tried again

“No”

“Have you considered-“

“Still no”

“Dr. Abbot” Robby finally cut in, raising a brow at his friend as he put on his best teacher voice that only succeeded in pulling an eye roll from Jack “I’m not sure if you’re aware but this is a teaching hospital”

“It sure is” Jack responded in a similar tone “and teaching is exactly the thing I would love to be able to do today but thanks to some of us who have decided to be nosey and ‘overt’” he pointedly glared at the two of them “the rest of the staff have gotten it in their heads that they should get to be there when I propose”

And though he hoped that would be enough to get everyone back to work Jack was never that lucky, Robby immediately jumping in with “so it is for sure a when not an if then”.

Jack only glared at his friend, pointedly ignoring the shit-eating grin he wore as he stared unflinchingly back, Mel deciding this was the perfect opportunity to plead her case again “I just think that when it happens I-“

“Okay everyone listen up” Jack cut her off with a loud clap of his hands, effectively pulling the attention of anyone in the center of the ED.

“Dr. Abbot” Dana tried to call his attention, but he steamrolled ahead.

“I’m only going to say this once”

“Jack” Dana tried again as Jack once again pointedly ignored her.

“It will be done in private, just the two of us, at a time when I feel it is right alright?” He challenged the ED with a raised brow, his audience, despite his words, looking almost giddy before him.

“Sweetheart” Dana again tried to cut him off but Jack was too deep into his speech now.

“I appreciate your help with the ring and everything you all have done for the two of us but you need to stop pushing”

At this Dana had no more to say, little more than a deep sigh coming from the nurse as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the counter behind her.

“When I propose it will be on my own terms got it?”

The ED went silent around him, his students eyes wide as they did little more than stare up at him with rapt attention confusing Jack slightly.

“When you what”

Jack froze. He knew that voice. He knew that voice all too well. And even if he didn’t one look at the shit-eating grin on Robby’s face was more than enough to confirm it.

Jack spun in place quicker than his feet could really keep up to see you standing just a few feet behind him, frozen in place staring back at him with a wide-eyed gaze making Jack curse under his breath.

For the longest time no one said anything, the two of you frozen before one another as Jack’s head desperately reached for absolutely anything to say, finally settling on a defeated “what are you doing here”

“When you propose?” And God help him the way your lips twitched up at the corners as you said it made him nearly melt on the spot, Jack unable to fight the smile from growing on his lips in response as he took a few steps closer to you until he was almost chest to chest.

“Okay fine yes, when” he conceded with a soft chuckle, stooping his head slightly to fully meet your gaze as he drove his next point home “which is not this moment”

“But it’s going to happen?” Your question came back quick, your smile quickly growing to a full on grin that Jack wanted to be exasperated at. It would’ve been so much easier to shut down this conversation if he could remain stoic but the unbridled glee in your eyes had his resolve crumbling.

“In the future yes but I cannot stress this enough, not right now”

“Yes I say yes, or I will say yes” you eagerly grabbed at his forearms as the words all but spilled out of you. Jack helpless against the warmth that radiated within his chest at the action, his hands reaching forward to grab your face between them as a laugh threatened to bubble out of him.

“I am not proposing right now”

You all but ignored him, pulling his hands off your face but keeping them captured in your own as you continued on “have you already bought a ring? Can I see it?”

You were like a dog after a treat, oh so eager to barrel on ahead despite everything and Jack was finding it much too hard to be mad about it “I don’t have it on me because I refused to get engaged in the Pitt while I’m in scrubs”

And finally you seemed to properly take in the scene around you, the florescent lights ahead, the beep of machines all around you, the much too eager eyes of his coworkers who watched the scene before them unfold with rapt attention. “Alright fine”

Jack nearly sagged in relief at that, glad you were finally seeing things from his point of view before you cut him off again.

“But can I see it when we get home?”

A shocked laugh spilled out of the man as he shook his head, raking an exasperated hand over the lower half of his face “will you let me do it properly? Get on one knee, recite a speech I’ll pretend I didn’t spend hours writing. The whole nine yards” Never in his life did he think he would have to beg his fiancé to let him properly propose.

You pretended to think it over, the grin on your face telling him you were getting entirely too much enjoyment out of torturing him like this “Can we do dinner first? My favorite restaurant?”

He rolled his eyes at your response, unable to fight the fond smile from his lips as he did so “this isn’t a negotiation”

But you only stared up at him through your lashes, bottom lip pinned between your teeth, and Jack was putty in your hands, throwing  out the last resemblance of a plan he had with a sigh “we have reservations this weekend”

He barely got the words out before you were wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your lips up against his, Jack grinning happily into the kiss as he pulled you by the waist deeper into him, finding that he didn’t much mind this part of this catastrophe of a proposal.

But like usual the ED chimed in at the perfect time, an abrupt cheer from his friends around him pulling the two of you apart as you were swarmed by his med students, the kids eagerly pulling you into their own set of congratulatory hugs.

But with a grin like that on your face Jack still found he couldn’t be too mad about it.

A hand clapping his shoulder pulled Jack’s attention away from the excited conversation happening between you and his students, Robby sliding up next to him with a smug smile on his face “You know I’m honored you’d want me here today to witness-“

“Shut the fuck up” Jack cut him off sharply but with a chuckle, not hesitating to pull him into a hug, Robby whispering into his friends shoulder “I’m happy for you brother”

[silknspice]

STICKY SITUATION

⎯ ୨୧ pairings: fake dating! vi x reader

⎯ ୨୧ content: mentions of alcohol, college au, lying, swearing, fake dating tropes used, lowercase intended, not proofread, wc 3.5k

“no telling anyone, i’ll be coming to all of your hockey games and after parties, and absolutely no tongue when kissing.”

you looked up at vi for reassurance after reciting the pink-written “rules” paper in front of you. the pinkette hummed, muscular and defined arms moving from their position draped over the top of the couch to her manspread knees as she shifted to lean slightly forward. 

caitlyn kiramman and violet lane were officially over. it was assumed to be a mutual breakup that both parties would grieve on for the appropriate amount of time, but the soft launch the pinkett awoke to on caitlyn’s story the next morning spoke otherwise. maddie nolen. getting with the woman she told vi “not to worry about” was low, all vi could do was go lower. 

and so she enlisted you. stunning, charming, intelligent, an all-rounder. the way caitlyn clung onto her ex-lover for dear life when you were around, as if vi were a mere moth and you were light. if anyone would give the “mongoose”, as vi called her, a run for her money, it’d be you. 

“it’s a solid contract, for now.” she agreed. her eyes lingered on yours for a moment before flickering to her dorm window, the absence of light prompting her to lean back once more and speak. “it’s late, y’know. why don’t you stay the night?” 

you paused on your way to stand before finishing the movement. “charming, really, but you don’t have to offer that, vi. i’ll walk back to my building. thanks thoug-” the girl drowned out your words with her reassuring ones. 

“stay,” she simply insisted, backtracking as a beat passed and she had yet to explain. “it’d look good for the deal, y’know? besides.. we have some details to solidify.” as she finished speaking she lifted a hand and waved you over with only two fingers. 

you set your bag back down and scoffed at the action. “i’m not a dog.” your feisty claim was cancelled out by the way you followed her command like a puppy. 

you sat on the couch next to violet. closer than usual, but still too far for her liking. the hockey player rolled her eyes, a hint of a smirk crossing her face. “not there, honey.” you furrowed your brows, looking around to see what could possibly be wrong with your arrangement. “then where am i supposed to sit?”

vi’s hint of a grin attempted to stay hidden, tongue poking the inside of her cheek as she leaned over and grabbed your hips to flip you to straddle her lap on the couch. 

“where it’s easiest for me to give you a hickey.”

you laughed, shaking your head and using your arms to lean back from vi’s chest. at the sound of silence in the room your smile dropped, staring at the girl eyeing you expectantly.

“you’re serious?” you asked louder than intended, mouth agape as the girl moved her hands to rest at your hips. “people won’t believe we’re a couple just because we said so,” she started. “especially not caitlyn, she’s too smart..” you added, beginning to understand her perspective. 

“exactly,” she whispered, leaning in. “b’sides, we need to practice.”

vi leaned in, caressing the back of your head to hold you closer as she latched onto the side of your neck. she placed a gentle kiss before sucking a bit harder. you hummed as she slid a hand up to hold your hair before detaching from your neck with a pop. 

“there.” she spoke softly, eyeing the red and purple love bite forming. “perfect."

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

 “perfect,” you smiled, picking up the letterman jacket vi placed in front of your position on the bed. “violence” was written on the back rather than her last name. clad in nothing but a t shirt and shorts as pajamas, you slid the jacket on to see how it fit. as you adjusted it and fixed your hair, vi walked up to her bed and held up her phone. 

“smile,” she spoke quickly, snapping a photo of your soft smile and slightly confused eyes. 

“what was that for?” you muttered, watching vi’s frame as she sat next to you and turned her screen. 

already posted on vi’s snap story was a photo of you, sat on her bed, legs appearing bare as the girl’s letterman and oversized tee covered your shorts. the text on the screen read “post ‘workout’”. 

“vi!” you sputtered, letting out a gentle laugh as you hit her shoulder and earned a playful grin from the girl. “hey-  now we’re on the map.” the pinkett reassured you with a smug look as she opened the various messages responding to the story. 

‘ITS NINE IN THE MORNINGG’  ‘crazy work’

you felt the girl’s gaze on you as you watched the reactions roll in with an amused smile. fellow classmates praising vi for ‘making a move’, saying how cute you two look together, even claiming to have ‘known this would happen all along’. for a moment, you let yourself forget it was all pretend. 

a veiny hand placed itself on your thigh, making you flinch at the sudden contact. you looked to violet, eyes locking in the moment before ridding of the tension. 

“see that? we need’a get rid of that.” she grinned. 

you scoffed, flicking her hand off of you as you stood and rid yourself of the thick letterman. “nothing in the contract says you need to grope me,” you teased, hands on your hips as you turned to pick a shirt from vi’s messily folded space. 

“gro-  what?” she scoffed, caught off guard as she attempted to defend herself. “nobody’s gonna believe we’re a couple if you jump every time I lay a hand on you!” the girl huffed, her gaze turning every which way before leaning back on her forearms. 

you only hummed as she continued to talk, turning with your back to her as you grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head.

vi‘s words died in her throat, eyes widening at the line of your back. your smooth skin and pearly smile blinded her as you turned your head, picking up one of her shirts. 

“what? nobody's gonna believe we're a couple if you choke up when you see my body." your cocky smile filled your face as you turned away from the girl.

"by the way, you're drooling."

 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“ew, you fucking drooled!” jinx’s loud laugh drowned out the room as she scolded her boyfriend, despite the roaring party atmosphere. all throughout the frat house was a crowd of students looking to get wasted, heaps of alcohol, and bad decisions waiting to happen. 

“i did not!” ekko defended himself, wiping away any possible evidence from his lips. you giggled at the two and leaned into the strong arm wrapped around your waist. after a few days of casual pda across campus to keep up the act, vi was finally able to touch you without you scolding her about ‘the contract’ or making a gasp that she found adorable. 

she figured an arm wrapped around your torso was appropriate after the third guy in a row  came up to you and asked to dance. you figured this was a good way to warn people off so that she didn’t threaten anyone else and get jayce to ban them from the frat. 

“alright, another! i wanna be moving out there tonight,” jinx exclaimed, picking up a liquor, pouring two shots, and stopping over the third glass. you had already opted out on alcohol, so the blue haired girl’s gaze trailed to her sister. “vi? you pregnant or something? haven’t touched a glass yet. i’m worried.” the girl teased, tilting her head.

“ha ha,” vi rolled her eyes playfully, her grip on you becoming present once more as she spoke. “can’t. i’m drivin’ honey home tonight.” the younger girl fake gagged, downing her shot with her boyfriend following in suit. as the couple continued their antics, vi leaned into you. the space between you thinned as you grew to feel her soft exhales on the back of your neck. “look to your left, at the end of the couch.” her words were hushed to a sneaky whisper that kissed your ears as she kept your body warm with her proximity.

you obeyed, holding back a smile as you peeked to your left. a girl, decorated in blue locs, was staring back at you with stars in her eyes. she blew you a kiss that was mentally intercepted by vi with a scoff. “more competition.” you teased, turning your head to face hers. 

“y’know, if i’d known you attract this much attention-” you cut her words off, bringing your hand up to fix a pink strand of hair that’d fallen in front of her face.

“you’d have what? chosen another girl to torture with your silly ex drama?” you hummed.

the pinkett snickered, cocky smile painting her face as her grip on you tightened ever so slightly. “not a chance.” 

the moment between you fell silent and soft despite the roaring music surrounding before jayce’s smiling face filled your vision. “evening lovebirds,” the man grinned, taking a shot from the jinx’s hands and downing it while she groaned with anger. vi smiled, thumb tracing patterns absentmindedly along your hip. “shouldn’t you be losing a game of beer pong right about now?” she teased her friend. 

“hah, no.” the sarcastic response made you giggle, fanning your face gently with one hand as the room’s air only became stiffer at the arrival of more guests. “mel and i are hitting up the hot tub with some.. other guests.” he lifted another shot glass, this time one that powder poured for him. 

getting some fresh air sounded so good right now. 

vi hummed while letting her hand slide off of your waist, her touch just grazing over your lower back before sticking her fist in the pocket of her baggy jeans. without speaking, she tilted her head and raised an eyebrow in question. 

“yes please.” you begged, already handing your phone to jinx to watch over. most likely a decision you and your phone storage will regret later, but that was a future problem. jayce let out a chuckle, flashing his pearly whites before setting his last shot glass down and waving you and vi to follow.  

your hands intertwined, jayce leading you who’s hands embraced both his and vi’s. the man pulled you both through the drunken community and let go to exit through the decorated doorway. the colorful lighting dimmed and was replaced by the blue hue of the pool and light from the night stars. jayce found mel’s gaze from across the space, a grin growing on the frat member’s mouth. he hastily removed his shirt and shorts, tossing them onto a table by the poolside. “just join us when you’re ready!” he rushed out, jogging over to his lover. 

vi let out a sharp “hah”, muttering something about talis being “pussy whipped”. you only smiled, turning to the side as you fixed your arms across your torso and lifted the cropped top over your head. vi’s playful mutters died in her throat, and a soft “oh” was born. that ‘stripping practice’ wasn’t much help. 

she hoped and prayed you’d suggest giving it another try. 

two sets of clothes fell, every fabric hitting the floor adding to the heavy pile of tension, one too complex and thick to cut with a knife. the two of you hummed, taking each other in as your gazes travelled up and down with heavy lidded eyes. 

rather than a knife, jayce’s call to you from across the landscape successfully dissipated all conflicting and curious thoughts. momentarily. “yo, what are you waiting for!” 

the pinkette’s lips curled into a smile, her arm finding its resting spot around your waist. you exchanged no words as your feet moved with purpose, anticipating the feeling of the steamy water that would soon encase and soothe your body for the time being. 

or not.

“violet?” 

it wasn’t your mouth that spewed the name. you radiate love, the way in which you called out vi’s name warmed her and provided an indescribable feeling. it was said cold, surprised, and almost with distaste. 

 “caitlyn.” vi’s response was equally distant, a hint of shock at the end. the newfound emotion quickly switched to anger as she turned to the man looking like a deer in headlights. “jayce..” her voice was low, a warning. 

wide eyes flickered between the past lovers before swaying to his immediate left. “mel?” he called for help, the woman only laughing as she relaxed into the warm water. “you’re on your own.” 

the ginger girl at caitlyn’s side looped an arm around her bicep, squeezing gently to grab her attention. “let’s go, yeah?” she tried, but the woman didn’t budge. 

you scoffed, a snarky remark on it’s way to sneak past your lips when jayce interrupted. “hey- okay wait wait!” he started, gaze travelling between the girls. “i know how tense everything is right now, but i care about both of you. i hate having to choose sides or run back and forth to be with you guys. can you at least try to be civil tonight?”  

the loudest silence fell upon the group, you and maddie not daring to make a face until your lover– or faux one decided. 

“fine.” 

the night progressed as jayce dreamed. vi sat with you on her lap, your skin plush against one of her thighs, her arms wrapped around your waist as the water threatened to take you away. she suggested it was the “easiest position to whisper in your ear discreetly”. you were on top of her before she thought of the explanation. maddie and caitlyn sat directly across the hot tub, the ginger holding onto one of the bluenette’s biceps in hopes of calming the annoyed look that covered her face. mel and jayce, ever the mediators, carried the tense conversation to the best of their abilities. 

after a draining thirty minutes of passive aggressive disses, everyone nodding and pretending to understand jayce’s technological talks, and you standing your ground during an intense staring contest with maddie, you’d had enough. 

“oh it was disastrous. then of course i had to miss a couple days as i was ill with a cold–” caitlyn’s story was drowned out as you spoke up with a smile sweet enough to cause a toothache. 

“really?” you tilted your head. “i heard you got mono after a party,” you hummed, voice laced with fake concern. you had no clue if the claims were true, you were just tired of her talking. 

the bluenette’s eyes widened only slightly, her mouth slightly agape. maddie turned her head, a brow gently furrowing in suspicious confusion. “but.. i didn’t have-” 

“well that’s what happens when you’re freed from a past situation that was unskilled in such acts.” caitlyn spoke over the girl. her gaze flickered over to vi and back to jayce who was desperately praying to change the topic. you bit your tongue with a small scoff under your breath, vi’s muscular arms tensed their grip around you subconsciously before relaxing at the thought of an idea. 

“you wanna crash this shit?” vi whispered, words kissing your ear with her lips just inches away. you nodded your head with desperate eyes.

she tapped on your leg below the water, making you turn your head and torso ever so slightly towards her. without warning, her lips crashed into yours, arms adjusting their position to hold your waist. “keep going,” she whispered between one of the many kisses. your hands trailed up to tangle in her hair, gently gripping as you felt the pinkette softly bite on your bottom lip. your mouth opened just enough from shock that the muscular girl could slide her tongue in, allowing it to get tangled with and slide against yours. 

fuck. 

you allowed all of it to happen. the way her hands slid up and down your side, the way her lips encased and warmed yours, the way her tongue explored every inch of your mouth, the way mel and jayce noticed in shock and amusement, and the way caitlyn and maddie looked as though they’d explode within the next second. 

you did anything but stop, hardly listening as caitlyn scoffed, letting out an “unbelievable” as her and maddie climbed out of the hot tub and stormed off. it wasn’t until mel questioned “was this display for us or them?” that you pulled yourself from vi with a cheeky smile. you didn’t miss the way she followed after your lips. 

the pinkette flashed that infamous smirk, apologizing to mel and jayce with a laugh before leaning in one last time to whisper in your ear, “good job, honey.” 

your heart raced at the comment, but it didn’t stop you from pushing the girl back with an almost-serious expression on your face. “you broke the contract!” you exclaimed, pressing an accusatory finger to her chest. 

it wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy it, like you didn’t slide your tongue along hers as she claimed your mouth. 

it was the fact that every time you moved further in this fake affair, you grew more worried. the fact that all of your firsts with her would be fake tugged on your heart strings. and when the drama boils over, what would happen between the two of you? in your mind, as your tongues entangled, so did your hearts. 

vi choked on her words, searching for an explanation. why did she do that again? she couldn’t help herself. not good enough. oh, right. “i told you! couples-”

“contract?” 

the two of you froze, turning back to jayce and mel who eyed you suspiciously. 

fuck. 

 ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“fuck,” 

jinx huffed out under her breath, barely audible with the loud bundle of students in the surrounding stands. “it smudged again!” the girl whined, looking into the camera of her phone as she attempted to fix a line of eye black on her face. mel chuckled, muttering a “give me that,” as she held the girl’s face and evened out the line with a tissue. 

it was nearing the end of the second intermission, with your school and the neighboring university tied. the three of you had spent two hours picking out the best bottoms to match your lovers’ jerseys that covered your body, tying the perfect blue and white ribbons in your hair, and decorating yourselves with body paint. jinx, apart from the messy lines on her cheekbones, painted little blue doodles on her legs. mel simply painted jayce’s number on her cheek. you drew two pink lines under your eyes, along with vi’s name perfectly placed on the front of your thigh. 

a loud whistle blew seconds before the players skated back on the ice, fans cheering and clapping as they anticipated a win for their respective team. you only cared about finding the player with the intimidating name plastered on their back: “violence”. 

the game flashed before your eyes, screaming and squealing along with the girls whenever one of your companions got the puck. 6-6. 6-7. 7-7. excitement and anticipation in the atmosphere only rose as the teams skated back and forth across the ice. 

the anticipation distracted you. distracted you from your conflicting feelings, vi’s curious actions, the fact that you didn’t have to be dressed like this as caitlyn nor maddie were present, the worry of this deal coming to an end, the terrible fact that you were worried, and the terrifying idea of telling her how you really felt once the game came to an end.

7-7. 7-8. 7-9. time!

the stands erupted into cheers as ekko slammed the winning shot. powder jumped up and down while you and mel laughed at the girl’s glee before cheering along with her. 

“they usually take a minute, showers and all.” mel informed you as you waited for the players to exit the locker room. the two girls found a spot on a bench while you paced back and forth. it’s fine. it’s fine. does she really need to know? 

“honey?” 

the sweet voice startled you, prompting you to turn, the fast-moving pink haired girl still clad in her uniform filling your view. “vi?” you smiled, only taking two steps before the girl reached you. “what’s– huh?” you choked on your words as the girl wrapped a hand around your waist, the other coming up to cup your face. 

“have t’ do this before the adrenaline wears off,” she muttered with determination and a haze in her eyes. before you could respond, she leaned in, lips connecting like puzzle pieces. the kiss wasn’t rough or showy like the others, it was needy and real. she kept you in a trance, minds, bodies, and mouths connected until powder’s complaints pulled you out. “jeez, breathe!” 

the girl’s annoyance caused you to giggle, allowing you to feel vi’s smile against your lips before pulling back. 

her face, only inches away, sent a numbing and fuzzy feeling through your brain and body. the look in her eyes as she soaked in every detail from your puffy lips to wide and love-struck orbs had you all but melting. 

oh. 

©silknspice

[uisceb]

Endlessly baffled every time I see people water down Glinda’s actions in Defying Gravity to “oh she was too cowardly or too selfish to stand by Elphaba,” as if she didn’t spend that entire sequence from Chistery’s transformation onward doing everything in her very limited power to keep Elphaba safe.

Like the second things start going wrong, Glinda’s entire focus switches to “keep Elphaba safe at all costs.” This girl does not have any magic. She does not have any physical survival skills. She probably has no idea how to throw a punch. She can barely run in those heels. Her one power is her charm and her ability to work a crowd. She is desperately trying to get Elphaba to come back with her not because she agrees with what the Wizard and Morrible are doing, but because she thinks maybe if she can just smooth things over, Elphaba will be forgiven, and she’ll be safe. 

In that regard, there’s a very obvious selfishness to Glinda’s actions - she lacks perspective; she lacks scope; she prioritizes Elphaba over what we as the audience would understand as the “Greater Good” and over her own morals about what’s going on with the Wizard’s agenda; she’s visibly horrified by what happens to Chistery but her first instinct is to comfort Elphaba above all else, despite having no understanding of what's happening.

I am the last person who’s ever going to argue that Glinda isn’t selfish, because she very clearly is, it’s one of her defining characteristics, and it’s one of the main things she has to learn to overcome in order to actually become “Glinda the Good.” This is in no way me trying absolve my very selfish girl who very much made the wrong decision.

But it does kinda boggle my mind when I see the argument that Glinda betrayed Elphaba or is a “fake friend.” Especially because ultimately she comes to the conclusion that the best thing she can do for Elphaba in this moment is to let her go. She knows she would only hinder Elphaba if she were to go with her, she knows there’s no happy ending for them if she tries to run away with her (I think in that moment she might even suspect there’s no happy ending at all). Elphaba is going through her own personal revelation which is beautiful in its own right, but it’s also impulsive, and there’s a certain level of unsustainable grandiose fantasy to it. Glinda almost lets herself be swept up in it for a moment, but her rational side kicks in, because, of the main trio, Glinda really is the most grounded in reality.

I’ve seen a lot of weirdly smug people out there proudly saying if Fiyero was there he definitely would’ve gotten on the broom with Elphaba - and honestly, I think they’re probably right. But it’s not because he’s somehow morally superior to Glinda, or that his love for Elphaba is more pure. Our boy is depressed, he’s nihilistic, he’s lost, and truly doesn’t have any attachments to anyone.

He was genuinely moved by Elphaba’s fearless convictions and he fell hard and fast for her, so I agree he’d be on that broom in a heartbeat, he quite literally has nothing to lose, and everything to gain. He’s found himself wanting to believe in something for the first time because Elphaba brought that out in him, his whole world revolves around her. And that’s very romantic, but because of that, the stakes are much lower. For him, leaving everything behind wouldn’t be a sacrifice, it would be freedom.

Glinda’s gone through the world much differently, much more carefully. She doesn’t have Fiyero’s sense of nihilism or detachment, she’s lashed herself tight to the reality of the world around her. Where Fiyero has been regularly kicked out of schools and freely wandered from place to place experiencing new things and getting into trouble on purpose, Glinda has never stepped outside the predictable comfort and safety of her bubble until meeting Elphaba. She lives in constant fear of failure and being looked down on. She is forever clinging to this persona she’s created because she’s terrified of what will happen if she’s anything less than perfect.

She has constructed her entire existence around being an icon rather than a person - in the beginning, she literally doesn’t know how to be her own self, she’s just barely learning, because of Elphaba. And it scares the shit out of her. 

Fiyero would likely play action hero if he was there for Defying Gravity, and that’s great, but Glinda is weighing a million things in her head, not least of which is “holy shit the person I love most in the world is in imminent danger and I have no magic and no strength to keep her safe, so I will beg and plead and insult and fight her tooth and nail to keep her with me inside my privileged bubble because maybe I can smooth this over, maybe everything will be okay if I just do what I always do and use my privilege to get my way.” She understands the rules of her world, so she’s going to play by those rules because that’s how you win the game.

Elphaba, of course, refuses to play a corrupt game at all, and Glinda gets angry - she lashes out at Elphaba because Elphaba has just put herself in such a dangerous situation, and Glinda is completely powerless to change it. Every little bit of control Glinda is used to having is obliterated.

Her “Maybe you’re not as powerful as you think you are” when Elphaba doesn’t grow wings is so desperate - the words border on cruel, but her tone is both painfully apologetic and above all filled with RELIEF because while her heart hurts for Elphaba, she’s terrified that Elphaba would hurt herself the way Chistery was hurt, and she’s cleaving to the hope that maybe if Elphaba isn’t as powerful as she thinks she is, Glinda stands a chance at undoing the damage, and protecting her. 

Glinda’s selfishness is just so fascinating to me because it’s so rich and so contradictory - she loves Elphaba so deeply and destructively that she fully paralyzes herself when the chips are down and it breaks them both. She fails to be what Elphaba wants her to be, and she fails to be a good person, but there’s no “fake friend” about her actions - she is acting on pure desperation to keep this person she loves safe in literally the only way she knows how, at the cost of everything else, including what’s right, which is something Elphaba could never abide by. Elphaba would never compromise her own morals, but at this point in the story Glinda is willing to compromise everything as long as Elphaba is tucked away in her bubble with her, and that difference in values is irreconcilable to both of them. 

So, realizing this, Glinda does the one last thing she can think of to protect her at this point, and wraps a cloak around her shoulders to keep her warm. That’s all that’s left.

She’s selfish and she’s cowardly and she’s brave and she’s loving and she fails Elphaba and she fails herself and she regrets her decision for the rest of her life and yes I am writing all this with glass under my tongue and between my teeth, she makes me insane.

[ursie]

Brennan’s statement on Palestine :

[ ID: Statement from Brennan Lee Mulligan, on Instagram. It consists of three black squares with plain white text. The text reads as follows:

"I'm calling on my government officials to immediately demand a ceasefire and de-escalation in Gaza.

I applaud anyone and everyone calling for peace, with the understanding that real peace only exists if it deeply and honestly accounts for and fully ends violence in all its forms. Real peace addresses and corrects wrong-doing in the past and guards against it in the future. It goes hand in hand with justice and requires truth, restoration, reconciliation, reparation.

Peace cannot co-exist with collective punishment, ethnic cleansing and forced displacement. It cannot co-exist with blockades, embargoes, or with 2.2 million people, half of which are children, trapped with no hope of escape or political recourse. it cannot co-exist with murdered journalists, bombed hospitals, or years of protesters being shot and killed at the border. it cannot co-exist with illegal settlements, segregated roads, and the silent, imperial chill that settles over the gaps in the violence - the unspoken geopolitical consensus that a group of people need to unflinchingly accept permanent subjugation and occupation.

My hear breaks for every Israeli person who lost loved ones during the attacks of October 7th. It breaks for every Ukrainian person who has lost their loved ones. It breaks for every Congolese person who has lost their loved ones. I do not speak on behalf of Palestinians now because some lives are worth more than others. I speak on their behalf because I, and all Americans, have a responsibility to pressure our government because we are responsible for this. Some have said that this situation is complicated. The Unites States government clearly disagrees. It has definitively, categorically, militarily chosen a side, and I do not agree with that decision.

In wiring this, I have been wrestling with what I am sure many people like me wrestle with: There is a powerful narrative surrounding violence in the Middle East that asserts and ever-moving goalpost of self-education and study in order to even be qualified to have an opinion. As someone with a love of research, I have at times in my life fallen into the trap that I am not educated enough clever enough, or aware enough to have a worthwhile perspective, and that three more articles and two more lectures and one more book will do the trick. Unfortunately, democracy doesn't work that way - we, the citizens of any democracy, cannot possibly be experts on every aspect of the policies of our governments, and yet if we do not constantly weigh in an make our voices heard, the entire experiment falls apart. Not only do people constantly doubt themselves and the things they can see with their own two eyes, but old shortcuts for political action can fall apart as well: This specific issue exists along a raw, charged and unique faultline in American Politics. Nobody I grew up with has ever challenged me on my support for abortion rights, LGBT rights, Black Lives Matter, anti-capitalism, anti-fascism, none of it. The people in my country who would despise me for those positions are, for all intents and purposes, strangers to me. But there are people who I've broken bread with and shared honest affection with who will see the words I've written here and incorrectly conclude that I do not wish for the security, dignity and happiness of them and their loved ones, and that breaks my fucking heart. Full-throatedly condemning the actions of the Israeli government while battling rampant anti-semitism at home is an urgent moral necessity, and doing so is made unnecessarily challenging for the average person to navigate by the pointed obfuscations of cynical opportunists, bigots, and demagogues on all sides of the political spectrum who see some advantage in sowing that incredibly dangerous confusion.

So, I'm calling my representatives. I'm having hard conversations with friends and family. I'm here, talking to you. I should have done it sooner. If you're Israeli and hurt by this statement, know that I want freedom, dignity, security and peace for you, and that every ounce of my political awareness believes whole-heartedly that the actions of your government are not only destroying innocent lives, but doing so to the detriment of you and your loved ones' safety. If you're American and feel lost and confused - I understand and empathize. This, the whole country, only works when we get involved. I am constantly haunted by the specter that maybe I missed some crucial piece of information on this, or any, important world event. I'll just have to make my peace with that self-doubt and trust my gut by going with Jewish Voice for Peace, Amnesty International, the Geneva Conventions, the United Nations, etc. And if you're Palestinian and reading this: I unreservedly support your right to life, to freedom, to happiness and human flourishing, to full enfranchisement and equal rights, to opportunity, prosperity and abundance, to the restoration of stolen property and land, and to a Free Palestine." End ID ]

[thetrialsandtribulationsofeb]

no but it cracks me up that all this time buck was walking around with this feeling of “my bro is the most attractive dude on the planet. like, he’s so pretty, any girl would be lucky to have him. i’m kind of jealous of them (joking, of course. or am i?..), but i get it. and he’s also such an amazing dad. and he’s so smart, and so brave, and so reliable, and so funny, and so cool. literally the best person alive. i’m just happy for his girlfriends, ‘cause they get to have this guy to themselves. but also i hope he never has another best friend like me, ‘cause no one is allowed to take my place in his life. it’s all i have”

and eddie was walking around with this feeling of “wow, i just made the bestest friend in the world. he cares about me and he loves my child so much. i want to spend all my time with him. i want to talk with him about everything. i want to listen to him talk about everything. i want to see him every day. i trust him with my life. i trust him with my son, which is even more important than my life. now that i’ve gotten to know him, i can’t really imagine my future without him in it. also, i have this weird swirl of feelings inside my chest when i see him with his romantic partners, but i have no idea what it is. it’s too confusing for me, so my brain is just kind of unable to process it. i trust him with my darkest secrets and i’m not afraid of him seeing me at my lowest, ‘cause i feel like he always accepts all of me with understanding instead of judgment. my life feels empty and wrong without him by my side. i might need him almost as much as i need my son at this point, wow. he’s just the most important person in my life. again, after my son. but i realized that i need both of them beside me to feel happy”

and for 7 years, they genuinely didn’t understand what it meant, because eddie was too inexperienced and emotionally repressed to be able to comprehend what his feelings actually meant, and buck was too unaware of what his feelings for men meant

so all these years they were really just walking around being in love with each other but not having a single idea that they were, because they really thought that this is just how platonic camaraderie feels like -

until tommy's intervention and eddie's move to el paso finally opened their eyes and gave them a new perspective from which they could look at their feelings toward each other and finally be able to understand them

their story gets me every time. like, it’s so stupid and unhinged and beautiful

and something like this really could only happen by accident, ‘cause i don’t think any tv show writer is smart enough to create something so raw and complex as their relationship from scratch

it just kind of happened by itself. and i love it

[amazingcreek]

rapid fire oathbound thoughts:

holy shit we got queer bree AND transfem zoe. is anyone in this book series straight? no? good.

natasia kane my beloveddddd you are such a bad parent but such a proud mom

Nick and Bree on the roof?!?!? I haven't seen anyone mention this and it's making me crazyyyyyyyy

also one bed, yes ma'am there's only one bed ty mrs. deonn

William having a crush on Lark and Lark having a crush on William and neither of them ~actually~ addressing it is so frustrating I can't even

LARK CALLING WILL SWEETHEART ugh my heart

bring. back. Alice.

sel's "got you" IS FROM THEIR FIRST INTERACTION. BUT ALSO A PREY THING. GODDAMNIT

Zoe was so real for forgiving Bree after learning all this had been less than a year. like yeah ok that's too much in too little to expect normal communication

Mariah and valec's opinions on the whole "powerhouse" and "point of our spear" thing is soooooo good. I love nuance tracy deonn take my money

nick talking about sel constantlyyyyyyy. oh my god these two are gonna kill me. "please tell sel that when we find him" "sel would draw and quarter me" UGH

NICK HOLDING EVERYONE ACCOUNTABLE. truly that moment at his council hearing when he says we must name them when Bree is here AND when she isn't is just. yeah. go him. AND THEN the perspective of William checking himself and going "oh shit I have NOT been doing as much as I thought" was so good. tracy you're a literal wizard and changing the world thank you.

valec calling the merlins cops. fuck yeah they are. tbh doing a whole analysis on merlins abuse of aether users/experimenting on Black bodies would be so good. maybe I'll write a paper who knows

valec and zoe. make them come back

bree knowing she's loved as she meets everyone, not being able to love them back in the same way because of her memories, BUT choosing to love and support them regardless is just like gorgeous. the amount of hugs she just accepts and goes, yeah I need this, even when she can't do the same in return is perfect

the ending. the ending. hooooollyyyyy shit the ending. "a king, a knight, and a prince" AHHHHHHHH. selwyn kane you can do no wrong in my eyes but oh my god. I am so scared someone hold me

ALSO after reading the ending going back through the book and seeing that there are several places where Bree and Nick are talking about sel and HE is the one calling her bloodmark. oh em gee.

this is not comprehensive and I'll probably think of more but yeah. how're we doing gang?

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

Old writing especially on Bo's and then Vincent's part. I realised that I was writing as if their s/o showcased their strength during later on into their relationship in the first three slashers, apologies.

A/n: I am no longer writing for Hannibal or any hannibal characters as I myself have forgotten my own perspective of them.

Slashers x reader who's stronger than them but doesn't look like it!

Warnings: blood and death on the ghostface duos part, very slight mentions of nsfw. But mostly fluff.

Slashers in this: Bo sinclair, Vincent sinclair and Thomas Hewitt, Michael Myers, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher (poly)

Relationship: romantic!!

Bo

It clawed at his ego, he's a pretty mean bastard and you know it 🫵.

He first thought of you as the most fragile and weakest person ever (and cutest), I mean, could you even lift a pot half filled with water?

Undoubtedly he used this assumption to 'help you' or more so at times tease you. He loves seeing your reactions and most definitely not because you're so small and kind to him, pfff of course not.

He just absolutely loves lifting you up and over his shoulder and he's definitely an ass guy. He loves ogling and smacking your ass but he won't get to that level until many many months later on. But he's still going to stare.

“Oh Bo, I think there's a rabbit under the truck!” You exclaimed to Bo as you noticed something white and moving below.

"An animal? *sighs* hold on, I'll get rid of that p-" He suddenly loses his ability to formulate words as he witnesses you lift the goddamn fuckin truck with one arm, and indeed there was a rabbit underneath.

“*gasp* it's so cute!” Bo cannot believe what he just saw. Damn, he gotta stop smoking so much it's messing with his brain. He's just staring at you as you pet the timid rabbit with your 'scrawny' arm.

He must admit he does fantasize about you lifting him up and shit, or topping him in bed. Whatever he's feeling that day, and he would rather swallow sand than ever admit that last part.... But y'know if you're up for it-

His cocky and prideful attitude seemingly making an apparent change, he would hold a cup or item you need above your head with a shit eating grin watching you get frustrated with him. Or when he would make jabs about you being too weak to lift three chairs at a time and would offer to help you. (So he could walk beside you.) But now... He still fucking makes jabs at you being weak, just to fuck with you even though he knows it's far from the truth. He loves making you seem like the little helpless princess and him being the asshole shining knight in armor.

You wouldn't mind tho would you? It's a win-win, you get to spend more time with your boyfriend and he gets to spend time with his girlfriend.

Vincent

So gentle and caring with you. He's gentle and caring with whoever he is with but your size just makes him think one wrong move and he's accidentally breaking your arm. And cause of this he can't help but be a worry wart at times and way too protective. Not budging even if you reassure him you're perfectly capable of doing something that requires strength.

During one of the dark evenings you walk with your lover in the forest, the side of the forest where there isn't roadkill so that you can breathe without torturing your nostrils. And finding some fire wood to spend the next dark hours star gazing and ranting to him while the sound of the fire crinkling and burning the wood serves as a nice background music.

Every step you take you hear the crunch of the dead leaves get crushed under your foot, both of you holding your flashlights. You have the warm and slightly calloused hand of your Vincent holding yours affectionately as his thumb brushes against the back of your hand and knuckles, gently tracing over and feeling the ridges and bumps.

You notice some fallen bark and shine your flashlight on it. "Vinny, look there's some firewood over there!" You exclaimed and shined your flashlight elsewhere, looking around more until you had shined it directly on a tree right in front of you that was occupied by a scary looking arachnid, its front limbs moving in a sluggish and relaxed fashion.

You let out a startled yelp and out of instinct your fist went to swing at the spider who somehow successfully managed to not get hit in the nick of time. This also startled your boyfriend who looked worriedly at you, his eyes scanned over to see that you were.. Fine! But the tree you punched wasn't. It has a big dent in it while the flesh of wood was cracked and damaged severely around the impact along with many splinters.

"I'm so sorry Vincent! There was a spider and I got scared!"

He almost let out a breath of relief knowing it wasn't anything serious but he can't get his eyes and mind off the injured tree. Did you... seriously do that? He gently took your hand and examined it, it seemed perfectly fine except for redness, light bleeding and a couple splinters on your knuckles.

He slowly raised one of his hands, pointing towards the punched tree. 'Did you do that?' Is what's probably going through his head. You chuckled sheepishly and nodded in confirmation. He sighed. For now, he'll worry about your fist.

Does this interaction change how he treats you?... Kind of. He isn't too pushy as he was since he now knows how capable you are of handling yourself but there's still that feeling in him, something that gnaws at his inner core for him to help you. He wants to feel useful and to serve you in any way he can, so...please let him dote over you still..? (Of course you will, you can't say no to him.)

If you want to pick him up he'll entertain you, though he'll be extremely flustered and giddy about it. He likes this way more than he should (in his opinion). How comical is it? He's a large 6'1 grown man being carried princess style by his tiny s/o. Despite all this, he still hopes you need him as much as he needs you.

Thomas

Trust me when I saw it really took Thomas by surprise. He's a really big guy and you say this little thing is stronger than him? Oh please, humor him after dinner.

He's a busy man with a lot on his plate, and you seemingly looking like the most harmless person in the world doesn't help, he constantly feels like he has to tend to you and supervise you from a certain officer.

Will usually not allow you to help him when he's working, it depends. He feels guilty letting yourself get caught up with all this but if you insist he'll gladly accept the extra hand with honest gratitude. But generally- 'Back away honey, you might get dirty.' Is what he wishes he could say.

In his eyes you're a saint, an angel. Made perfectly to fit in the space between his thighs he's sitting down and there's no flaw in the way his large hands cups your cheeks with those pretty eyes of yours staring into his – no room for mistake or complain. You're adorable.

The first time he allowed you to help him you admire your handsome behemoth of a lover chopping wood. Appreciating the rolled up sleeved that gave you a good view of his arms, his muscles flexing as he brought the axe down – after he was done with the first small batch of logs you hurried to grab the others.

Tommy watched with amusement and adoration before shifting his weight to help you but stopped as you started walking towards him five logs resting effortlessly in your arms. It didn't even seem to faze you as if it was just you were only a bunch of baby ducks.

Tommy watched in silence as you laid them out on the table, still kind of processing it before nodding his head in gratitude and resuming to chopping them up. He'll bring this up later, maybe. For now he'll focus on getting his work done and spending more with you, and your soft words.

He doesn't really care if you're stronger than him or not, as long as you love him and don't try to run away it's all good. If you want he'll stop trying to do everything for you even though he knows you don't need any assistance – he's so used to working around the house he feels restless not doing anything at all.

If you want to carry him, do it. He's all yours but please do it in private he won't be able to handle the embarrassment if his family sees it. And although he prefers to be the dom he doesn't mind it if you wanna take charge every once in a while and throw him around.

Plus, it creates something pleasantly warm in his stomach.

Michael.

He thinks he's going insane. (He already has.)

He's Michael Myers, the most ruthless killer Illinois has ever seen for the past decades. And you're saying this small creature that he's inhabited has greater strength than him... Yeah, no.

And then he sees you picking up three bodies out of the house with your bare hands while cleaning up the evidence of his the murder he left, quietly observing you. He won't admit it but it kind of irks him. He's supposed to be the one with power in this relationship and quite frankly he doesn't know the true extent to your power.

He warms up to it eventually – although it's more of he doesn't give a fuck anymore. You're not completely weak and helpless? Great, he doesn't have to worry about you as much. Key word: as much. He still does worry a lot when you're out for long hours – he's not worried you're injured or in danger (not anymore) but more as in you're not leaving him, right? Or ratting him out to the police?

Do not ever attempt to pick him up or anything even remotely close to that unless you want a glare from those void, soul-less eye sockets of his mask Or if you want a love tap on the head and cheek. If you give him enough guilty smiles and let go of him he'll let you off the hook. if not, bear the consequences. (They don't even do anything anyways, lmao)

He feels so incredibly annoyed when you start treating him like a child, telling him to go sit down or lie down in bed after he pulled a few all nighters and the fact you successfully manage to pull him back into bed: God dammit, why the hell are you even so strong and you're so small!? Grumpily he does stay put but only if you're with him too.

A man feared by hundreds, if not thousands because of the sheer power and mercilessness he leaves in trails of every step he takes in public... And then there's you, you're half his size and you have more control over him than he'd like. He'd never kill you though, not intentionally, but that will also most likely not happen.

Speaking of killing, don't think he won't murder someone if they attempt to hurt you and gets their ass kicked by you anyways. You attack, he lands the finishing blow. Don't protest, he won't listen.

Billy n' Stu

They're both pretty lean so you can believe it, if not for your given figure. They both adore it, so who cares? Billy and Stu will, eventually.

It was in the heat of the moment, you tell yourself but you remember in vivid detail the day where you saw the bloody escaping victim running towards you – adrenaline pumping in your veins, your mind immediately went into fight mode and swung a fist at their skull. You remember the sickening crunch as blood slowly pooled from their fractured cranium when they lifelessly fell down to the floor.

They first helped you with the lingering guilt first before Stu started annoying you.

''Can you punch me like that next but with a bit less-''

"No!"

Alright, no worries but now he's asking you to lift him up to reach things that he does not need help on. Maybe even just carry him and run around the house. (Don't be fooled, he just wants to be carried around like a child again.) Fluttering his eyelids at you and holding up a jar of pickles. 'Y/n, I can't get this to open!' Yes he can.

Billy, although tries to act neutral but can't help but let his thoughts wander. 'Wow... Strong girl... Can choke me...' He thinks to himself as he watches you and Stu. Not as if he'd ever admit that. He pretends he's disinterested in getting in your arms - no, he just doesn't wanna embarrass himself. But if you persist he'll begrudgingly agree. He indeed liked it.

Stu obviously takes a positive reaction, he loves getting dominated. You can take that however you like. Billy on the other hand feels conflicted, if he's not stronger than you then how will he stop you if you try to leave them or plan to rat them out? Assuming this is during the beginning of your relationship. But overtime the more he takes a good look at your face those thoughts will slowly drown away, there's no way you would, right?

The slashers will probably swoon if you agree to help them place the bodies where they want them to, like hanging them in the trees or something.

Billy keeps it more lowkey. Preferring to keep you in his lap and rest his chin on top of your head. Stu takes your strength to his advantage. When he gets drunk he'll whine and ask you to carry him to bed, and take his socks off. Annoying fuck but you love him either way. And Billy too.

[sunsetcupid]

BED CHEM ; IH6.

synopsis: A fic about Isack Hadjar and his girlfriend, Y/N L/N, who decides to ask him about his opinion on threesomes.

trigger warnings: Use of Y/N; Use of feminine pronouns from the reader’s perspective; Mentions of threesomes; Use of swear words in English and French; Descriptions of romantic acts and behaviors; Suggestive remarks

a message from the author: This is spicier than my previous fics have been; however, I do not write smut. It’s not something I’m comfortable with. Therefore, this fic does involve a sex-related topic, but it is just the discussion surrounding it. No smut is found in here. There are other authors on Tumblr that write it, and I respect them for being able to do so, but I will not be one of them. Thank you!

If there was one fun fact about yourself that you wished you could broadcast to the world without fear of retribution, it would be that you loved to cuddle with your boyfriend. Isack was a little bit shorter than you were — something he would never admit to — but he was the best big spoon you could ask for. He was like an athletic teddy bear with a penchant for swearing colorfully in French.

You rubbed your eyes, tossing fitfully in the bed you shared with your boyfriend, who was diligently studying the next lip sync video that VCARB wanted him to complete. A frustrated groan escaped your lips as you attempted to find another comfortable position and nearly elbowed Isack in his stomach.

Though the bed was comfortably large, Isack had a tendency to stretch out like a starfish, legs and arms splaying out everywhere, even in your portion of the bed. Amused, you poked at his muscled thigh under the blanket, waiting to see his reaction. He looked up from his phone, pausing the video so he wouldn’t lose his place.

“Yes?” Isack asked, quirking one eyebrow. He wasn’t annoyed, just confused. “Is everything OK, Y/N?”

You shook your head, forcing back a grin as you flopped over on your side. “I’m fine. Go back to memorizing your terribly important overused TikTok audio.”

“Ma chérie, I would be extremely foolish if I trusted you right now. I can tell you’re lying.” Isack put his phone down on the nightstand, tugging you closer to him. His body heat billowed out, making you feel like you were melting inside a sauna. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’m being serious.” You stuck your tongue out, making him roll his eyes and playfully flick you on your nose. It was a habit of his; he claimed it was something his father used to do to him, and he liked sharing it with you. “There’s nothing wrong, Isack, I swear. Don’t pay attention to me.”

Isack huffed, suddenly caging you in with his strong biceps. He didn’t apply much pressure, but the air was still choked out of your lungs because of how surprised you were. All those hours at the gym lifting weights had not been useless, you thought happily. You quite liked his biceps; they were squishy but firm, and — holy shit, you were going crazy. Apparently you had less oxygen in your lungs than you thought. “I won’t let go until you tell me.” Isack informed you, adjusting his position so it was more efficient at making you surrender. “Now will you listen to me and tell me what’s bothering you? You’ve been flipping around as if you are a dead fish for over an hour now.”

You scrabbled at his arms, but he was telling the truth; his grip on you was too secure. “What’s your opinion on threesomes?” you blurted out a moment later when you realized escape was futile. Embarrassment and regret immediately washed over you, especially since you knew what expressions he must be making. The fact that you could not see Isack’s face was inconsequential.

Confusion. Then horror. A beat passed, then two, as Isack tried to make sense of what you had asked.

“Q…Quoi? Am I doing something wrong?” Isack loosened his vise on you, allowing you to wiggle out and finally breathe unrestrictedly. “Why are you mentioning this to me? Did last night not satisfy you?”

“It did! I’m not…You’re more than fine, I just…” You trailed off, waiting for air to refill your lungs. “I wanted to know your thoughts.”

Isack bit his lip, his tooth peeking out. “Am I not pleasuring you well when we…?” He implored you with wide brown eyes, a moment away from breaking into tears. The sight made your heart crumble. Oh God, forgive me for making Isack upset, you bemoaned internally. “I thought you were happy with me. I didn’t know you weren’t, and I’m sorry for not paying enough attention to you to realize. Je suis désolé.”

You bolted up, almost breaking Isack’s nose in the process, and winced. “Oh. My. God. Isack. I am! I am happy with you! It was just a question! Why would you think I wasn’t happy with you?”

“Are you sure?” Isack was still worried. “If you need someone else to pleasure you, then I am not doing my job right. Why are you asking if this is not true?”

You palmed your forehead. “I’m more than satisfied! I swear on my soul — if I have one, which I do —, I very much do not want a threesome.” Your nose crinkled as you imagined how it would play out. Isack would be possessive, and rightfully so. And whoever the other man was? He wouldn’t be half as good as your boyfriend was. “Other men are disgusting, and I don’t know any women who would want to join in.”

Isack scoffed. “Men are disgusting? Merci beaucoup, Y/N.”

“I said, ‘other men’! You’re actually pretty hygienic,” you retorted defensively. “I only brought this up because the book I’m reading…It has a threesome in it. I thought it was really sexy. Also, you’re French, and a ménage à trois is as French as croissants or the Eiffel Tower.” And you were curious to see what his perspective was, but it was not going well!

“Well,” Isack blew out a breath, pondering. “It’s fine for other people, I guess. They can do what they want. I am not involved; it is their business to deal with. But I’m not interested in that for me. For us. You’re everything I need, and anyways, I don’t want to share you. Je t’aime absolument putain, OK?”

You kissed him on his forehead. “I understand, Isack. I love you too, and I hope you know I was not asking for one.”

“Good.” Isack touched your chin, his eyes searching yours. “Now can I get back to that video, or are you going to ask me any more questions?”

Credits: Dividers — @dollywons

[yoomiwrites]

Got the hots for you

Summary: You're dorks, but you're in love. GN Reader, you perspective.

Note: So! Here we have our second place, Ace and a cheerful Reader. This one was...idk, kinda difficult for me but I think I am satisfied with how it came out in the end. Much love to you! I will post an update after this how the other stories are going and when they will get an new chapter. For those who are waiting for them!

Part 2

♤

The salty sea breeze ruffled your hair as you leaned against the railing of the Moby Dick, watching the waves ripple under the silver moonlight. The night was calm, the ship’s usual boisterous energy reduced to the occasional creak of wood and the muffled laughter of pirates lingering below deck. The warmth of a nearby lantern cast flickering shadows over the deck, and beside you, Ace stretched, letting out a contented sigh.

“You’re unusually quiet tonight,” he commented, tilting his head toward you with a lopsided grin. “Thinking about something?”

You huffed out a laugh, folding your arms on the railing. “Pfft, when am I ever not thinking? My brain’s a constant carnival.”

Ace chuckled, his voice warm. “That’s true. But c’mon, tell me what’s up. I know you, Y/N. You’re all sunshine and fireworks, but something’s different.”

You swallowed, keeping your gaze locked on the ocean. It was Ace. He always saw through you. You had been on the Moby Dick longer than he had, but from the moment he set foot on board, you had clicked effortlessly. He was the only one who could keep up with your antics, the only one who matched your energy. And somewhere along the way, you had fallen hopelessly, irreversibly in love with him.

But he could never know.

It wasn’t worth the risk. What you had with him—the laughter, the teasing, the unspoken understanding—was too precious. And so, you swallowed your feelings, shoved them into the depths of your heart, and pretended they didn’t exist.

Unfortunately, Ace had a talent for making things difficult.

“Maybe…” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re thinking about Thatch?”

Your head snapped toward him so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “What?!”

Ace smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Aha! I knew it. You’ve been acting all weird around him lately. Blushing. Looking away. Laughing at his dumb jokes.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You got the hots for Thatch, don’t you?”

Your brain short-circuited. Of all the ridiculous things—

“What—Ace, no! I do not have the hots for Thatch!” you protested, flailing your arms wildly. “He’s like a dumb older brother! A ridiculous, cake-obsessed brother!”

Ace narrowed his eyes playfully. “Suuure. That’s what everyone says before they end up running into someone’s arms all dramatic-like.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Oh my god, you’re impossible.”

“But adorable, right?” he teased, nudging your side.

You bit your lip, trying to fight the stupid smile threatening to break through. This was exactly the problem. He made your heart race without even trying. You had spent months—years—falling for this idiot, and he had absolutely no idea.

Taking a deep breath, you forced a grin and leaned closer, elbowing him back. “Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming, fire boy.”

Ace feigned offense, placing a hand over his chest dramatically. “Wow. After all we’ve been through, you wound me.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, he sobered slightly, his gaze turning curious. “So if it’s not Thatch… is there someone?”

Your stomach did a backflip. You didn’t trust yourself to lie convincingly, so instead, you laughed—a little too loudly, a little too forced. “What kind of question is that?”

“A pretty simple one.”

You hesitated, gripping the railing tighter. He was watching you carefully now, his dark eyes searching, waiting. You could feel the weight of the moment pressing against your chest. If you answered wrong, if you slipped up—

You shrugged, plastering on the most nonchalant smile you could muster. “Pfft, please. Who would have time for romance on this ship?”

Ace studied you for a long second before finally shaking his head with a chuckle. “I dunno. You strike me as the hopeless romantic type.”

You scoffed, nudging him again to mask the ache in your chest. “And you strike me as the kind of guy who eats before he thinks.”

Ace laughed, bright and carefree, but then his expression turned thoughtful. He leaned against the railing, staring out at the sea. “I don’t think I deserve it, you know?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Deserve what?”

“Love.” He exhaled, his fingers absentmindedly drumming against the wood. “My family doesn’t deserve to live on. I don’t either.”

Your blood boiled instantly. “That’s crap.”

Ace turned to you in surprise, and before he could say anything, you jabbed a finger into his chest, your voice fierce. “You listen to me, Portgas D. Ace. If you ever say something that stupid again, I will personally kick your ass. You are more than your bloodline. You are good, and you are kind, and you are loved.”

His lips parted slightly, as if he didn’t know what to say. And then, suddenly, he laughed—warm, genuine, surprised. “You’re something else, Y/N.”

Your heart raced as he reached out, fingers brushing against a loose strand of your hair. He tucked it behind your ear, his touch lingering just a second too long. His eyes softened, the usual teasing replaced with something deeper, something unspoken.

For a moment, the entire world shrank down to just the two of you—the moonlight, the waves, and the space between you that felt smaller than ever.

And in that moment, you knew.

Ace was going to figure it out. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow.

But someday.

The next morning, Ace sat on a barrel, groggy-eyed and yawning, when Marco plopped down beside him, arms crossed and a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

“You look troubled, yoi. Thinking too hard?”

Ace groaned. “Why does everyone think I think too hard?”

Marco shrugged. “Because when you do, it looks like it hurts.”

Ace squinted at him. “What do you want?”

Marco leaned back, looking far too entertained. “Just wondering what’s got you so lost in thought. Maybe… a certain someone?”

Ace frowned. “What?”

“Oh, you know. Someone who gets under your skin. Someone you can’t stop messing with.” Marco waggled his eyebrows. “Someone with a very familiar laugh.”

Ace blinked, brain still sluggish from sleep. Then it hit him. “Wait. No way.”

Marco’s grin widened. “Oh, way.”

Ace scoffed, waving him off. “Pfft. You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?” Marco hummed, standing up and stretching. “Because I could swear Y/N looked at you last night like they wanted to set you on fire. But, y’know, in a loving way.”

Ace choked. “EXCUSE ME?!”

Marco clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Think about it, fire boy.” And with that, he walked off, leaving Ace staring after him, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“…Wait… WAIT—HOLD ON, MARCO! MARCO, GET BACK HERE—WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?!”

The sun was high in the sky, casting golden light over the deck of the Moby Dick, but Ace was acting like an idiot.

You had spent the entire day watching him fumble through tasks he normally handled with ease. He tripped over a barrel, nearly set a crate on fire (thankfully Marco intervened before the flames got too excited), and somehow managed to spill an entire plate of food on himself at lunch. It was so ridiculous that even the crew had started placing bets on how many more times he’d mess up before the day was over.

And you? You were torn between laughing and being seriously concerned.

So, after watching him almost walk straight off the ship for the third time, you finally decided to step in.

“Ace!” You stomped over, hands on your hips as he froze mid-step, looking at you like you’d just caught him sneaking extra dessert from Thatch’s kitchen. “What the hell is going on with you today?”

“W-What?” He blinked rapidly, as if that would help him process the situation. “Nothing! I’m fine!”

You scoffed. “Oh yeah? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re actively trying to win the ‘Most Clueless Idiot of the Year’ award.”

Ace groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m not clueless.”

“Then explain why you almost walked off the ship again.”

“I was distracted!”

“By what?”

Ace clamped his mouth shut, avoiding your gaze. Suspicious.

You leaned in, squinting at him. “Is there something you need to tell me? Because at this rate, I’m going to start thinking someone hit you over the head.”

He muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?” You cupped a hand to your ear, grinning now because you could tell whatever this was, it was embarrassing for him.

Ace sighed dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck. “Marco said something weird this morning, and now I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You frowned. “Marco? What did he say?”

Ace hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. Then, after a long moment, he blurted out, “He said you got the hots for me.”

Your brain short-circuited.

“…WHAT?!”

Ace looked like he regretted every decision leading up to this conversation. “I told him he was crazy! But then I started thinking about it and now—” He gestured vaguely. “Now I’m acting like an idiot.”

You stared at him, mouth opening and closing as your brain desperately tried to process his words. Then, before you could stop yourself, you let out a loud, incredulous laugh.

Ace frowned. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because,” you wheezed, wiping at your eyes, “I cannot believe this is what’s been making you act like a total disaster all day.”

Ace huffed. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s hilarious.”

“No, it’s—” He paused, suddenly squinting at you. “Wait. You’re not even denying it.”

You froze. Oh. Oh no.

Ace’s eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “Wait… WAIT—”

Panicking, you did the only thing you could think of.

You shoved him and bolted.

“HEY! GET BACK HERE!” Ace yelled, chasing after you, laughter ringing through the ship as the crew watched in amusement.

You had successfully evaded Ace for a good fifteen minutes before he finally cornered you near the back of the ship, arms crossed and a triumphant smirk on his face.

“You can’t run forever, Y/N.”

You huffed, crossing your arms as well. “I could try.”

Ace shook his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. “C’mon, just be honest with me.”

Your heart hammered. “Honest about what?”

He rolled his eyes. “You know what. Do you… actually like me?”

You opened your mouth—then closed it. You were usually quick-witted, but right now, words were failing you. Instead, you dramatically groaned, throwing your hands in the air. “Ace, you’re making this so awkward.”

Ace snorted. “Me? You’re the one who ran like a guilty criminal.”

You huffed. “Because you were being weird!”

“I was being weird because Marco got in my head!” He rubbed his temples, looking exasperated. “And now I can’t stop thinking about it!”

Silence stretched between you. His words hung in the air, heavy and uncertain. Slowly, Ace’s expression shifted, something softer flickering behind his usually confident eyes. He stepped closer, hesitant but determined. “Would it be such a bad thing?”

Your breath caught. “What?”

“If you did like me.” He scratched the back of his head, suddenly looking unsure. “Would that be so bad?”

Your brain screamed at you to say something—anything—but your heart was too busy doing somersaults.

Ace sighed, then suddenly reached out, brushing his fingers against your wrist, barely touching, like he was testing the waters. “Because… I think I’d be okay with that.”

Your stomach did a backflip.

You looked at him—really looked at him—and saw the nervousness hidden under his bravado. He was waiting for your answer. Waiting for you.

So, with a shaky breath, you decided to be brave.

“I think I’d be okay with that, too.”

Ace blinked, stunned. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a grin—one so bright and full of mischief that you knew, without a doubt, you had just signed up for an absolute disaster.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[drchucktingle]

Hey Dr. Tingle, I understand where you're coming from, it sucks that people are so irony-poisoned that they don't understand that your work comes from a place of true passion.

But I am wondering - are your book premises meant to be taken entirely seriously? Because I always thought that the titles and images, while not *bad*, where meant to be read with a sort of lighthearted comedy, like the titles you pick and the contrastive style of your art seems like intentionally sort of amusing in tone and rhythm? Is that correct, or completely off base? Because I do feel like that's where people get primed to read more of a joke into some of these things than maybe was intended, and I think that it's true for the people who do take the writing seriously that they find the context a little amusing, also, and I don't know if that's on or off the intended track from your perspective.

Hope that makes sense! I don't want to come across as rude or anything

yes my books premises are meant to be taken entirely seriously.

i would say tinglers fall into genre of magical realism and erotica. i do not think of them as comedy although i understand that many, if not THE VAST MAJORITY of buckaroos see them that way. that said i often lean into comedy or have funny moments throughout, but honestly that is the way of almost ALL stories. funny things happen in every genre, but that does not make all stories comedy.

to my trot, what defines something as COMEDY is intent. the goal of comedy is to make you laugh. my main goal with tinglers in NOT to make you laugh, so i do not consider them comedy.

HOWEVER it is important to keep in mind that i am not the expert on my art just because i made it. if a buckaroo laughs at tinglers they are not wrong. it is just as much their art as it is mine, and my interpretation is not the END ALL BE ALL. just because i made a piece of art does not mean i know it better than you do, or that my opinion on it is more valid.

tinglers can be whatever you want, and i am not hurt or offended if you laugh at them. that difference in perception is whats so beautiful and powerful about art.

i think a good way to look at what i do is this: i am an absurdist PHILOSOPHICALLY, but absurdism is so often associated with comedy that sometimes buckaroos who do not know about the philosophy can think they are the same thing. something being absurd does not automatically mean it is meant to be funny. my art is also joyful, and i think joy and humor can also be confused sometimes.

all that is to say, laugh all you want buckaroo. you prove love is real in your own unique way