#they are not doing things in reasonable order!

[zoethebitch]

every day Israel is committing atrocities I don't think it's reasonable to argue that these are being timed to coincide with US media events in order to distract people you can say they did this during the super bowl and that during the met gala but they have been doing the same thing every other day they don't need to time it with a distraction bc unfortunately the vast majority of americans are not paying any attention anyways

[frankieunscripted]

My reasons to hate Drake

First things first, I'm the reales- wait, wrong theme. First of all, I would like to say this is NOT an unbiased recap, this is literally just me listing things I've hated about Drake for years. You might as well join in on the hate train. Go watch some YouTube video essays on this if you wanna know more!!! You'll find plentyyyy

Certified Pedophile ("allegedly"): Texting teen girls until they're of age and then go and date them. ew.

Cosplay Gangsta: disrespecting the culture as a whole, but especially what hiphop is about. Flexing money, cars, girls, drugs, clothes bc he never understood hiphop was never about flexing, but about being heard bc you're oppressed, about revolution. Now we got his die-hard fans running around acting like this is true rap. no. "You don't know nun bout dat!"

Culture Vulture: jumping from trend to trend in order to make it "his own", faking accents that he has no business playing with and dropping them as soon as he's done with this specific type of genre bc it's not trendy anymore. Adapting whole "personas" around this, instead of just merely collabing with other artists. Jamaican and African accents are just 2 examples here.

Blackness: Drake never really got out of his acting career. Back on DeGrassi he was acting as a high school jock. Now he's acting like a tough black guy who's from the streets and knows what it's like to be down bad, when this was never his life. Lil Wayne warned him to never change and act tough just bc he would sign to Weezy's label where the rappers were predominantly "gangsta type dudes". And what did Drizzy do? He's acting all tough and "outta dem streets". He's clearly overcompensating for not feeling black enough (I've already reblogged 2 posts about this, pls see these for further context). Drake's mad for not being referred to as a rapper who speaks on being black, when in reality the black experience was never of topic in any of his songs. He also doesn't give back to the community.

Lil Wayne: Drake had relations with fellow rapper Lil Wayne's gf (she actually was of age, ayoooo!) while Wayne was away in prison. Wayne got word of the fact his gf was cheating on him with the young guy he signed under his label and was pissed. Drake, in an effort to smooth out the situation, got Wayne's face tattooed on his arm. Say what you will about portrait tattoos, but this story is just so fucking typical Drake. How the fuck do you think this is gonna help anyone?

Validation: Drake donates money in the music video for God's Plan, only to earn more money with that video/song than he donated in the first place. He felt good about donating and then never did that shit again.

Numbers: As a great man once said: "Crack fiends bought 10 million rocks, that don't mean it's good. It don't mean nothing." (As you can imagine, that man was 2Pac). And with that I say that proving your worth in the industry by numbers don't mean a lot. It means you and your team figured out the market and started producing stupid, vapid, but terribly long albums to maximize streaming numbers, automatically bumping up your place in the industry. This is about quantity, not quality - good rap/ hiphop was never about that. Drake actively validates his music and status with his fame, money and streams and neither him nor his fans seem to get that says nothing about the artistic value of his music. "Numbers lie too, fuck your pride, too!" (I mean really, Baby Shark has 14 Billion views on YouTube - you think that's REAL artistry, Mister Aubrey?)

Cocky Ass Bitch: I would be okay with a lot of his music if Drake just knew his fucking place. He went pop ages ago, but still people (including himself) refer to him as a rapper - no even, as THE rapper, placing him in the Top 3. Sometimes I feel like y'all do this, just to piss me off personally. Apart from everything else wrong with Drake, there's nothing wrong with liking music like his persé. Not everyone likes conscious/ deep stuff and sometimes, when you with the homies, you just wanna chill and listen to something "mindless" - MIND you, I'm not looking down on "non-conscious" rap, I'm just saying not every artist has to be woke/ deep all the time and some "empty" party anthem about girls, fashion, cars and alcoholism is fun at times. These party anthems deserve their place. And a child actor turned rapper turned POP STAR is valid in my books - just not if it's Drake. Apropos cockiness: The dude compares himself multiple times to Michael Jackson and while that got a few good lines out of him, I believe it's close to fucking blasphemy. Drake and MJ on the same pedastal. I mean sure, questionable stuff happening with kids, both of them wildly successful in their industry (mind you, streaming like today wasn't around back then and many of the numbers cannot be compared), but one of them a real talent and the other one some guy who more or less made it as an industry plant. "I can dance like Michael Jackson? / I'd argue your skills really lack, son!" (okay sorry, I know, that was corny as fuck xD) Dude is flexing with numbers instead of poetic abilities -

About the art itself:

Ghostwriters: "What poetic abilities?", I hear you ask - Yeah, don't think I forgot! Best believe I been cooking this one. There's evidence for Drake having ghostwriters - which on its own is fine, don't believe every star writes every single bar on their own. My problem with this is, that Drake keeps his cocky attitude, even though many of his hits aren't really Aubrey-written and also many ghostwriters never get their credit (this is why they're called "ghostwriters", I know that this is not something specific to Drake, but slapping one more name on the credits ain't that hard, when you're worth a billion bucks already). This is the rap equivalent of flexing your homework when you know DAMN WELL copied it off of your best friend and did nothing for that success. I guess his song Right Hand wasn't about a romantic interested after all, but the dudes who been writing it!

STOLEN SHIT: Why in hell is no one mentioning this on here? Drake is KNOWN for stealing other artists' verse metres (referred to as "flows", y'all tumblr, idk how much you guys do know, okay?), melodies, whole beats, samples or verses in general. In no other studio would you see mentions of a "reference track" concerning songwriting. They take a song as reference and build around it as they construct a beat. There's PLENTY of evidence for this happening, one story really had me baffled, where a young indie-rapper met Drake in the early 2010s, gave him his CD to listen to and a whopping 5 years later the indie-rapper realizes Drake just fucking stole his entire song (a really personal one at that) on his latest album back then. Being indie, of course the guy had little to no means of fighting back with lawyers or anything, man's was working a 9to5 job and had other stuff going on. Before you wanna argue with me though: YES. There is a difference between stealing and paying hommage. One famous example is Drake biting Eminem's Superman flow on Chicago Freestyle: "But I do know one thing though/ Bitches, they come, they go/ Saturday through Sunday, Monday / Monday through Sunday, yo/ Maybe I'll love you one day/ Maybe we'll someday grow". The only good thing Drake ever did was changing Em's "Bitches" to "Women" on his song. Other than that: exact same few bars. This is a hommage. Why? Because Eminem, that's why. You can pay hommage to great, well-known artists with good bars. It takes a common ground of knowledge from artist to audience to make a hommage like this work. That can go well. Kendrick copies the flow of a Kanye West song on HiiiPower and it works just fine because you listen to either of the song and think: "Ah yeah exactly, that one part, okay, I see you." You don't pay hommage to a small, unknown, indie-rapper by copying his whole verse about his Mom, when you would never say stuff like that on your records before. You don't, because it wouldn't work. None of your listeners would understand the innuendo at all, because no one ever heard of the "great guy you'd be paying hommage to". So shut up.

Music: It's just not that good. Like yeah, he had a few bangers, but let's not exaggerate. Artistically Drake does not offer anything. If he ever did, he probably left all of that on the first few albums he still rapped on. His delivery sucks, his singing voice sounds like he's tryna be The Weeknd at times but isn't. The lyrics aren't special. What the fuck?

Euphoria: Even before getting deeper into hiphop, I've always hated the way Drake presents himself. When Kendrick said: "I hate the way that you walk, talk, dress" I felt that. I hate the way he "raps", the way he drags his words, the way he laughs, the way he "sings". Just a whole lotta shit I dislike about the guy.

Sneak Dissing: If you want beef then get in line, don't just kinda allude to it, you weak ass bitch

SENSITIVE ASS BITCH: I love a man who's in tune with his feelings but Drake being the cosplaying gangsta clown he is, acts like he's all tough when in reality, you can't really say shit to him, cause he "can't let this shit slide, ay".

Kendrick's Control Verse drops - a verse calling out multiple rappers saying Kendrick will come for them in friendly competition for the crown of being the best. Drake was mentioned. Everyone thinks it's kinda cool and goes along. Drake is mad. In an interview he basically said he found it fake because the next time he saw Kendrick "it was all love" and that he wanted it "to be real. Let it be real then". Okay crodie, next time you get called out in a fair rap competition, best believe I'll sock you in your fucking throat, I gotchu.

The Weeknd doesn't sign to Drake's label OVO after working with Drake for a while. Drake is mad again and feels betrayed. Why you gotta be like this?

Kendrick says that he doesn't wanna collab with Drake because their music is too different, not because of anything personal. He just doesn't see it happen in the near future because it would not match artistically. Drake gets mad.

Drake stopped beefing with Pusha T back in the day. Probably because he exposed his son. But still, if you want beef, then clean up your plate, bc you eat what you order and dont't just start to "let this shit slide, ay"

("allegedly") being involved in XXXTentacion's passing back in 2018 over beef. This beef started because of the flow of X's popular song Look at Me!, which Drake stole shortly after letting X know his management would contact him about a possible collab. As you can imagine, X was never contacted by Drake's people. The kid was 20 years old, man. He said some outrageous shit at times, but no one deserves to go out like he did.

Also, the famous DMX ("Y'all gon make me lose my mind!") once said in an interview that he'd like to punch Drake in the face and I support that. Kendrick and his homies laughed at the clip - as did everybody else, cause it's hilarious if a beast and a legend of hiphop hates Drake. Drake was mad at Kendrick laughing about it and not taking it seriously. What did he expect? Should Kendrick have went after DMX and made him apologize for what he said about lil Aubrey? How old are you? 5?

Drake gets mad at a lot of shit - bottom line. I could go on and on, but I've been writing this for hours, it's half past 3 am and I wanna sleep after uni and work, y'all.

DURING THE DISS-ERTATION: this section is about shit Drake did during the beef with Kendrick.

Saying Kendrick's Like That verse was weak af. That's your core response? Someone flames you and people are already throwing ass to the mere sound of it and you think: "Huh, that sucked anyway." Pathetic.

Calling Kendrick short (over and over and over again) as if his height is under his control/ his fault? - as if that takes way from Kendrick's skill, Kendrick's allegations againt Drake! - as if that means ANYTHING AT ALL to people over the age of like... 12?

Going after anybody's family in the first place. I know nothing is really "off-limits" in a rap battle like this, but please have the fucking decency. Don't mention my Momma, my kids, my dog, my fam, my friends who ain't got nothing to do with the fact that I hate you. I will say I am not proud of Kendrick for getting down on that level himself - but I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy Meet The Grahams and the sheer panic it induced. And sometimes I gotta be a little childish and yell "But Aubrey started ittt!"

Hitting on Whitney in The Heart Part 6. Don't go for another man's treasure, you absolute dog. Accusing Whitney of being unfaithful. My friend, this beef is about us (the Culture) hating you and the things you do. Stop trying to shift this into something it is not.

Reacting to diss tracks via instagram stories and memes, like he's that one popular girl in 7th grade who's gotta clap back to something someone said in school on her IG. Shut up.

Calling The Weeknd and his manager gay. Are we not over homophobia yet? Being queer is not an insult. Also falsely "accusing" people of being gay is uncool as fuck - but oh "You don't know nun bout dat!" bc false accusations are basically everything you do - and also possibly outing someone like that is fucking hurtful as shit. I know the people involved are probably not queer at all, but if they were - period.

Using AI in a song at all. Drake, you already proved you suck. Don't force it down our throats. What part of you thought it would make you look good? What part said it would be good to do in a diss track, when the world knows diss tracks are even more a show of capability than other songs. Nah, you go and use AI. Idc about your "mind games": Using AI Snoop Dogg is just weird as fuck cause the Doggy is still well and alive - if you want him to feature on your song, call the legend and ask hi- oh wait, you knew he woulda said "Aww hell nah!" cause everyone hates you? Huh. Snoop probably woke up one day, hit a blunt and asked "When the FUCK did I collab with Drake?". Anyway, using AI 2Pac is straight up disrespectful, when you know damn well the guy would've hated you if he knew who you'd become. Just doing this because it's 2Pac, because you can and not even asking for permission of Pac's people is crazy. Glad the shit was taken down anyways.

The 8 Mile "Airing Out Your Dirty Laundry"-Trick before the big battle does NOT invalidate future claims on you diddling kids. No. Not even if 2Pac says it first. Nah.

His Damage Control Effort in post to make it seem like/make us believe that he's in control, when Kendrick has been bodying him is hilariously embarrassing. Anyone can claim the mole was fake "all along" after it happened.

Making fun of Kendrick for his verse on Taylor Swift's Bad Blood is just stupid. Look at all the features Drake does. Rihanna, BadBunny, DJ Khaled, Future, PartyNextDoor, Lil Wayne, Diddy, Nicki Minaj, Wizkid, ..... the list is so fucking long (I'm just picking at random songs at this point, cause I do not want my browser/spotify history to be associated with Drake's music. I don't wanna go out of my way to say he NEEDS these people to stay relevant but let's face it: His discography and his success would be different if it weren't for them

Acting like he's so great for "finally making Kendrick rap again" - Sir, you don't write your shit on your own, stfu. You don't invest time and effort into your vapid albums. YOU should be thankful for Kendrick destryoing you, giving us the best few lines out of you in a long time.

Not addressing important shit. We been over the allegations, I will not repeat them in this post cause this is already long enough. BUT y'all on the same page as me, aight? Instead of addressing EVERYTHING, he just responds with diss tracks that aren't terrible but really not THAT good, yk? Not going into the shit that we want to se addressed.

Acting like disstracks need replay value. Idk if this is a Drake or a fanbase problem, but people really act like Drake's tracks were better, bc you can listen to them more casually. "Kendrick basically made a whole song about Drake" - THIS IS WHAT A DISS TRACK SHOULD BE! Notice how we don't call every song containing a diss immediately a "diss track"? That's why. Diss tracks were meant to hit your opponent in the stomach with witty bars, double entendres, nice delivery and good production. Diss tracks weren't meant to be club bangers - bonus if they do end up being some though, looking at you, Like That and Not Like Us.

Not reading into stuff properly or just not listening. This is a small one, but ngl I hate the fact they got the Mother I Sober reference wrong (The song is NOT about Kendrick being abused, BUT about Kendrick not being abused and his Mom NOT believing him and passing her sa trauma onto him, even though he didn't experience that). Also Kendrick explicitly says "DOT, the money, power, respect / The last one is better" on Like That and Drakes response (again) is "Huh, I have way more money than you and in the industry, I'm way more powerful than you. Also, you so short tihhihi." BITCH he SAID respect was the most important of the three and you disrespect him, not by calling him out by his wrong doings but by picking on physical features the man cannot change like a 5th grade bully.

Anyways. phew. If you made it this far... wow. I'm impressed. I'll keep updating this. Thanks for coming to my beef talk.

EDIT: Thank y'all for the positive reactions on this post. If you seek more info/ want me to further explain stuff/ have even more dirt on Drake, let me know and we can work something out. -Frankie out

#reasons I BEEN hating Drake #drake diss #kendrick lamar #hiphop #culture #community #aubrey graham suxx #hate #rap #I'm beefin #(not yet) everything I hate you you #like that #the hear part 6 #chicago freestyle #superman #hiiipower #shut up frankie #rant #Not like us #euphoria #push ups #drake

[godslino]

HARD LAUNCH | minho drabble. established relationship.

“Do you guys have french fries?”

“Minho.” you hiss, nudging his shin beneath the table.

He cocks an eyebrow before turning back to the waitress. She smiles softly, laughing at the two of you. 

“We do, yes.” 

“Wonderful,” Minho grins, “We’ll have a side order of those too.”

“Perfect. I’ll put that in for you guys and check back soon.” The waitress says happily, collecting the menus and scurrying off to tend to another table.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, you groan, covering your face with your hands. 

“Why would you do that?” 

Minho chuckles, shakes his head probably. You wouldn’t know since you can’t see him.

“Do what?”

Still using one hand to cover your eyes, you pull the other away, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. “I told you I’d be fine. Why’d you have to ask for french fries? That’s so embarrassing.”

Minho hums. Unbothered. “You know what’s worse?”

“Literally nothing.” you mumble, returning your other hand to your face. It only serves to muffle your voice more. “This is humiliating. We’re in a nice restaurant and you ordered french fries because of me. Oh God. I’m going to hide in the bathroom.”

A good choice, you think. Minho’s in god damn slacks for crying out loud. Every second that passes is another second that your pity order of french fries is probably spending in the deep fryer, right next to the lobster tail and shrimp tartar that everyone else has a mature enough palate to eat. 

Before you can move to get up and make a beeline for the toilet, you feel Minho’s fingers wrap around your wrists, pulling until your hands give way to your face. You crack one eye open and then the other, his amused expression coming into view.

“What’s worse than ordering french fries is me knowing you’ll be hungry if there isn’t something familiar for you on the table.” he says pointedly, like your reason for feeling embarrassed is unnecessary. “Besides, who said I didn’t want any?”

“Min, look around,” you say, turning your head to glance at the room, “The napkins are cloth. Cloth! Nicer than my bed sheets. We can’t be seen eating french fries in a place like this. I told you I’d be—”

“—fine. Because as long as you’re here I can do anything.” Minho recites, word for word, cutting you off. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks immediately, spreads like wildfire when Minho smiles and leans on to his forearms. His button up tightens over his shoulders, hugs his arms, sleeves rolled up to the elbow.

“Just like how you’re doing this for me, let me do something for you.” 

You and Minho have been seeing each other for four months now, but even at that, you’re still not used to his straightforwardness. 

Seeing Minho has been nothing short of a dream. What started as just interacting at parties because of mutual friends eventually gave way to him asking for your number, and then hanging out separate from your friend group, until one day he plucked up the courage to ask you out. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable, always spending every free moment together. Laughing, talking, even sometimes just existing in the same space. It’s nice. So, so nice.

“Shouldn’t I be the one blushing right now?” Minho teases.

“Shut up.” you say, tearing your gaze away from him.

He laughs again before reaching out and placing a hand on top of yours. Soft. Minho is unbelievably soft.

It’s the thing you love the most about him. But more than that, more than the delicate skin of his fingers or the brush of his lips against yours, you love the softness of his eyes.

Minho is hard to crack, his emotions shrouded most of the time. Not that he wants to be, but because that’s just how he operates, or so you’ve learned. 

But despite all of that, his eyes are a dead giveaway. When he’s looking at pictures of his cats, or staring at you from across the room, or right now as steaming plates of some of the finest cuisine Seoul has to offer are being placed in front of him.

“Holy shit.” he whispers, staring in awe as the waitress walks away from the table.

“Is it rude for me to take a picture? Like, would anyone get offended?” 

Minho scoffs. “Babe, I would be offended if you didn’t document this right now.”

“Okay, okay,” you laugh, pulling out your phone.

“Do I get to be in it this time?”

You look up to find Minho pouting across the table. Another thing about your relationship— nobody knows yet. 

You’ve been teasing about the possibility of a boyfriend for two months now, you and Minho only having made it official about a few weeks ago. The most anyone has been able to see are carefully positioned photos where only his hand or other inconspicuous parts of him are visible.

It’s not that you don’t want people to know. It’s just hard with his job and all. Privacy reasons.

"For someone who likes to claim that people won't give me a hard time because of your fame you sure do seem eager to test that theory."

Minho smiles mischievously. “Well, yes. But I’m also waiting because I want to show you off.”

You busy yourself with opening your camera app to stop the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, yeah. You big flirt.”

Minho laughs but obliges, scoots back to let you get a good few pictures of the food. 

Photos aren’t enough to do it justice, though. So you opt for a video, scanning the table with your camera, only the bottom half of his torso visible across the table. A silk white button up only three-fourths of the way buttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows.

Minho watches silently, his face unreadable. And then, at the last second, he dips his head down so fast you don’t even realize what’s happening until his face is fully in the shot, a shit-eating grin pushing his eyes into crescent moons.

“Min!” you laugh, ending the recording. 

He chuckles, straightening back out. “Post it.”

“Are you insane?”

“No, but I’m going to be if you don’t post it and then eat with me.” He nudges the plate of french fries towards you. “Come on.”

“You really want me to post it? You’re sure?”

Minho smiles. Soft. “Never been more sure about anything in my life.” he says, neither of you willing to address the weight of his words.

He grabs your hand, plants a kiss on the back of your knuckles. The resulting flip of your stomach is enough to give you the courage to hit post and tuck your phone away.

Whatever happens, you’ll deal with it later. Together.

[ tags: @102598s @skzstarnet @snowyquokka @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @palindrome969 @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @astronomicallyyy @doohnut @linocz @romancerry @djeniryuu @pinkpunkdynamite @pynchkilledme @stayceebs97 @candyquokka @liknws @beeracha @feelikecinderella @caitxx1 @lilac13 @sebastianswhore13 @classiclitandmemes @hyunverse @linosazuna @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @bubbly-moon @cookiesandcreammy ]

#minho drabble #skzstarnet #lee know x reader #lee know drabble #lee know fluff #lee know au #lee know scenarios #lee know imagines #lee know fanfic #lee know fanfiction #lee know fic #lee know #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids au #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #skz x reader #skz fic #skz fanfiction #skz au #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz drabble #skz fluff

[vaspider]

So I need a more adult persons take on this. Is it wrong to ask people to tag gory/graphic images from gaza? I'm not trying to bury my head in the sand. I don't want to block mention of palastine but god these images are triggering the shit out of me and it isn't making me more aware or more empathetic, I'm already angry and heartbroken and praying and donating what I can.

It is never wrong to ask someone to tag something for any reason. I've asked people to tag animals that I have a phobia of, and mentions of Laika (the first animal in space), because Laika was a good girl and she didn't deserve what happened to her. It was cruel and horrible and it upsets me in a way that I recognize is out of scope for the death of a single dog seventy years ago. That person may decline to tag things for whatever reason, and if that's the case, it isn't wrong for you to unfollow them, block them, add their username to a filter list, whatever you need to do in order to curate your online experience. Without talking directly about the topic you brought up, 'cause it's something I don't do, as I've said about ninety squintillion times -- I used to reblog/post pretty disturbing images of human bodies out of a misguided sense of justice. I have been online for a really long time, and a lot of the stuff that was posted as 'necessary education' Back In The Olden Times were images of police and/or mob brutality visited on Black & brown bodies. Out of a sense of white guilt and a feeling that I should be 'bearing witness' rather than turning away, I perpetuated some of those images, until -- very kindly and gently, I think, for the scope of what was happening -- it was pointed out to me that:

it is unkind to subject the people who have been or might be subject to that sort of racialized terror to images of bodies broken by it, and

it is almost invariably the exact opposite of what the families of those people want, and

it does nothing to actually make me a better person or to advance any sort of real justice, and instead

it simply acts as a grotesque sort of terror tourism or war porn for people who can simply turn off their computer or phone screen and go about their lives.

I am really grateful to the person who took the time to gently shake me. They didn't owe me that, and I'm glad they thought I was a worthwhile investment of time and energy.

Whoever is posting images of bodies or gory images of victims from any injustice like that, especially without appropriately tagging the images so that people don't have to engage with that? They may be motivated by the best of intentions, but as long as they are engaging in that sort of casual, continual terror tourism, they're ... not helping.

There was a great article about this back during Ferguson that really flipped a switch in my head about the subject, where it basically said this is just another way that dominant cultures, Americans especially, seem to treat the bodies of people they view as Other as theirs to consume. There are ways to talk about whatever is going on which do not require people to utilize the bodies and blood of the dead as tools of persuasion (or emotional bludgeoning, tbh), as symbols to show how Righteous we are by "not looking away," and at the cost of those who have been or are more directly affected by the images.

Doing that sort of thing isn't a good idea in the first place, and you're not wrong to ask anybody to tag anything, or to disengage from those people if they find themselves unwilling or unable to tag that content so that you can care for your own mental health.

#gore mention

[t1red-twilight]

art donaldson headcannons

summary: art donaldson is my gf (confirmed)

warnings/content: gn!reader, non-tennis!reader, fluff, cursing

word count: 370

masterlist

- its pretty much written on the wall.

- this man is quite clingy. he really likes you</3

- not the type of clingy that is unhealthy; the type of clingy where he always asks about your day and has to sit next to you all the time

- he notices when you need space, though.

- BUT- when he has a shitty day, he immediately wants to tell you about it.

- “honey, the my coach said the worst fuckin’ thing to me today i-“

- he just likes hearing you talk. he’s so dialed in when you speak to him.

- he love language is a mix of quality time and physical touch

- holds your hand whenever possible

- will lowkey pout if you pull your hand away for whatever reason

- pays. all the time. will fight you for it.

- oh, you liked something? it’s yours now lol

- “this is kinda cute”

- “yeah? you want it?”

- “i did not say that”

- hugs from behind (corny:/)

- kisses your shoulder and neck when he hugs from behind

- “why’d you get out of bed?”

- “i woke up when you left. i got cold.”

- will personally incite you to every one of his tennis games. even though you were already planning on going.

- waves at you between sets and blows kisses

- biggest bear hugs after games 😩

- speaking of hugs, his hugs are very long. he specifically puts his arms around your waist (so that yours are around his shoulders/neck) and has his face in your neck

- makes sure he’s giving the majority of the time

- has your order memorized at like every restaurant

- this is oddly specific, but if you’re at a movie, he puts up the arm rest so you two can sit really close together.

- talks shit with you.

- “she’s SUCH a bitch. i CANNOT believe she’d say that to you”

- touchy out of adoration

- hand on the waist, hand on the thigh, etc. bro has literal heart eyes

- asks to do little things together

- INSISTS on going grocery shopping together, even if you don’t live together.

#we’re LITERALLY dating #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #challengers #challengers x reader #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson headcannons #headcannons #hcs #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader

[senseearly]

The panels of Mithrun's squad caring, in their own little ways, for Mithrun are so important to me.

Much like Kabru, they don't have to go beyond what was asked of them. They just needed to follow orders; they needed to make sure he stays well and alive; they needed to fulfill the mission. And yes, they do all of these.

And yet:

They didn't need to do all of those. Lycion telling Kabru to give Mithrun space. Cithis wanting Kabru to keep talking so Mithrun has to hear it. Everyone's suggestions of what Mithrun can still do and can still like. With the demon gone, their duties are over.

Yet they stand by him.

Without having to put it onto words, the snippets of the Canaries with Mithrun do show that they have a close bond with each other. We're not exactly sure how they made those bonds, how long it even took to cultivate, but fact of the matter is that they do care for him.

And Mithrun knows it. And that's so, so important.

The thing about Mithrun right now is that it's not clear (at least to me) if he right now is able to reciprocate that level of care. It's clear that Mithrun cared a lot about his former companions, enough that he shared the vision of his dream and the dungeon with them.

And the demon ate that desire. Which explains their eventual disappearance in the dungeon...and having no mention from Mithrun of what happened to them.

(If you asked me, they either died from trying to stop Mithrun or from any attempts to escape. But that's a story for another day)

You can even say that the demon totally ate Mithrun's desire for genuine companionship, something that he sought dearly through his beloved and his friends. Which explains how Mithrun is just totally apathetic to most people that his perception/description of them is muddled.

But does that mean Mithrun is incapable of caring for people? I don't think so.

The thing that is so intersting to Mithrun is that he acknowledges that the demon ate his desires, and that the only thing left with him is his desire to kill demon (but is actually a desire to just be completely eaten). Those are true. But his desire for him to try is still there, and I think that's one of the reasons why Mithrun recovered enough to go back to the Canaries, and to stand up when the demon was truly defeated.

And like what Kabru said, Mithrun can still have new desires. They may not be permanent, they may come and go, but the possibility is there, so I think in the future, Mithrun may have the desire again to care for his companions. Especially since he knows they do care for him a lot.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #mithrun #mithrun dungeon meshi #mithrun of the house of kerensil #canaries #lycion #otta #fleki #pattadol #cithis #this all started from that protective lycion panel #he was ready to push kabru off lmao #one would say cithis was genuinely curious #but i interpret it as her way of reaching for any other possible means to help mithrun #she's exhausted everything she knows #it's time to see what others have to say that could help their captain #i think they're an interesting bunch #i just love them

[perfectlyvalid49]

Today is Yom HaShoah, which is Israel’s (and by extension large portions of the Jewish diaspora’s) Holocaust Remembrance Day. Back in January, I wrote this post for International Holocaust Remembrance Day, in which I basically said that I thought that International Holocaust Remembrance Day really should line up with Yom HaShoah, but that I choose to take the “Holy shit! Two cakes!” attitude towards it, because the Holocaust is certainly a large enough tragedy to support two remembrance days.

The one in January’s date was selected to be in remembrance of the day Auschwitz was liberated. Because that date was selected to celebrate a non-Jewish achievement, I think it should be a day for the goyim to focus on how they can do better. If it is in remembrance of what good allies they were, then it should be used as a day to do some learning and reflection in order to be better allies to us now, in the present.

But the one today is timed to commemorate the Warsaw Ghetto uprising. Yom HaShoah is the day we picked not just to remember the 6 million who died, but also the ones who decided to die fighting. It is a day to remember that we must stand up for ourselves, even if the price is high, because the price for not standing up for ourselves is higher.

In January I gave some topics for goyim to think about in remembrance of the day. Because today is the Jewish remembrance day, I will share what I am thinking about today as a Jew, and invite others to think about it too.

I saw a post a few days ago where someone commented on a different post about why Jews didn’t leave Germany after Kristallnacht, and how moving to another country because some people broke your window feels like an overreaction. And that you will always be overreacting until it’s too late. How do we know the difference between “just” broken windows and a sign to flee? Knowing antisemitism is on the rise globally, where would we even flee to? How do I help my children avoid the fate of their great-grandfather (who survived) or their great-great-grandfather (who did not)?

We picked this day to commemorate the Jewish victims of the Holocaust, but also to remember that even in the middle of one of the worst attacks on our people (and that’s fucking saying something) there were Jews who stood up and refused to accept their fate. I have seen many Jews say that they’re getting “1930s Germany” vibes from current events. If things are headed in the same direction, what can we do to fight our fate? Ideally with words now, so that we don’t have to fight with pistols and homemade explosives like they did in Warsaw.

The reason for a remembrance day like today is to acknowledge the past, but also to learn from it. What can we learn so that when we say, “We will outlive them” we can mean all of us, not just the ones who are lucky enough to be geographically removed from the worst of it, or to survive despite the odds?

This is a little more downbeat than I had hoped, which is unsurprising given the nature of the day. I like to try to stay positive though, so I’ll say this: Six million people were murdered. The Warsaw Ghetto uprising did not succeed in its goal of liberation. But the Nazis did not succeed in their goal of eliminating the Jews either. We did outlive them. We are still here to remember.

Am Yisrael Chai

#yom hashoah #never again

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for sitting down to pee??????

CW// several mentions of pee i guess?

🚽🚻to find later

I don't know if this actually matters, but I (16, mtf, this might be relevant?), made a habit out of sitting down to pee for multiple reasons.

1. Is because of the guest/hallway bathroom. Whenever we (me and/or my brother) have to clean the bathroom, there is ALWAYS a fit made about how there's dried pee on the rim and base of the toilet.

One week, I got chewed out about it by my brother, and because I was so tired of hearing about it, I decided that I'd just start sitting down to pee. My sort of abstract thought process was, "if I start doing this, and there's still pee ending up around the toilet, then clearly it's either my brother or my dad".

2. I just prefer it personally now.

I've already figured that logically, there are other points to better prove my innocence (my brother likes to play games alot, and his room is a straight shot across from the bathroom, so he'd be in a rush and not be careful). But, I've already made those arguments and it's always ended up being this really dissatisfying, "Well whoever's doing it needs to stop".

Now today, my brother was telling my dad that he thought that I could've made a mess around the toilet. I was just walking by, and couldn't actually see anything, but in order to curb stomp the debate entirely I just told my brother and dad that I sit down to pee, so it couldn't have been me.

For some reason this really upset my dad? He's always had this thing since I was young about men having to stand up to pee, and "only women sit down", and other old-fashioned conservative stuff. I don't know if this made him so upset because he doesn't like me having "queer" habits (I don't know a better way to put it), or if it was just too much information.

It only really occurred to me now that maybe I shouldn't have just straight up said that, since its not really great to talk about bathroom habits regardless of what they are, but another part of me feels like me doing that isn't really that egregious of an act? Especially considering my brother and dad will talk about other way grosser stuff.

AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole #unsanitary cw

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 18

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

“You know, sweetie, I was thinking,” Steve stacks the plates and gathers the utensils, “if you’re going to take those pills, I don’t think you should be alone.” 

You blink and sit up, rubbing your neck. You’re not a good liar. You weren’t planning on taking them. You were just going to go home and lay down but he keeps bringing it up. Maybe he’s suspicious. 

“Oh, I think I’ll be okay--” 

“Look, honey, your mom’s already in the hospital. I’d hate to see you in there with her. For my peace of mind, will you stay? Just for the night. That way we can head out bright and early to get mom,” he suggests. 

“Well...” you trail off, staring at the wall. 

He’s being pushy but for good reason. He’s looking out for you. You’re the one going against doctor’s orders and why? Because it’s embarrassing to think it’s that bad. Depressed? No, just pathetic. 

“Here, you can borrow some of my clothes,” his voice muffles as he goes into the kitchen and the plates clink in the sink. He reappears and grabs the boxes from the table, wiggling free on and peeling the flap open, “take a shower and relax. You need a good night’s sleep.” 

He pulls out the insert then reaches for the doctor’s note. He pops out a tablet and holds it out to you, “says you might get lightheaded. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” 

“I... It’s okay. I’ll go home to...” you bat your lashes at him and give up. He’s just as hard to argue with as your mother, although in a much different way. Your mom is stubborn and mean, but he’s concerned and you’re the one being obstinate. “Okay.” 

You take the pill and stare at it. It’s so small. You probably won’t feel a thing. You shrug and grab your glass of water and swig it down, tossing the tablet in your mouth before you swallow. You gulp thickly and set down the glass. 

“Right, let me get you something to sleep in. And a towel,” he says as he claps his hands. 

You nod and stay at the table as he strides off. You look down at your lap, thumbs twiddling around each other. As nice as he is, you’re starting to feel like just another burden. 

Before you can sink too far into self-pity, you make yourself get up. You take your glass and carry it into the kitchen. You flip on the faucet and dump what’s left of the water. You rinse out the glass and place it in the rack of the dishwasher. You do the plates next, then the cutlery. As you close the door and it clicks, you’re startled by the shadow to your left. 

Where the counter extends, Steve stands on the other side. You blanch and fold your hands over your chest. You show your teeth sheepishly. 

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he smiles. “You’re a guest.” 

“I... I wanted to help,” you say, “um, but... I don’t know how to turn it on.” 

“Leave that to me. I put the stuff in the bathroom for you. If you feel like it, you can have a bath. Help chase away the stressful day,” he offers. 

“Shower’s fine,” you drop your arms and raises your shoulders, trying to make yourself smaller, “thanks.” 

“No problem, sweetie,” he comes around the counter as you go to move in the opposite direction. You nearly collide and press yourself against the drawers as he grazes past you with and apology, “just... gonna finish up.” 

He presses a button on the dishwasher door and you flit away. His cologne clings in your nostrils as his warmth lingers around you. Too close. 

You go upstairs and shut yourself in the bathroom. It’s a little bit of solace. It’s not much but it’s space for yourself. You see the towel hung from the rack and the clothes folded on the counter. The tee shirt is grayish blue and the shorts are drawstring and stretchy.  

You twist and turn the faucet, water running into the sharp-cornered tub but you can’t figure out how to get the showerhead going. You turn the water off then on. Off and on. What the heck? 

“You okay in there, sweetie?” Steve calls through the door as friction rubs against the outside. 

“Um, yeah,” you shut off the tub and back up. You go to the door and flick the lock back, opening it just a little. “How... I can’t get the shower...” your words jumble up with your embarrassment. How stupid. You can’t even figure that out. 

“No problem,” he steps in and you back up. 

He goes to the tub and flips on the water, pulling out the lever until the water flows from above. You could smack yourself. Instead ,you thank him and hug yourself. He turns and winks at you, “all good. Anything else?” 

“No, I’m fine,” you assure him. 

He nods and marches back to the door, turning to tap on the edge of the door, “alright, sweetie.” 

He shuts the door and you go to lock it behind him. You retreat and slowly undress. The clothes you’ve been wearing since the night before are slightly musty with sweat and the stench of the hospital.

You step under the showerhead and let the temperature seep in. You lean your head back as it splashes down your chest. You stand with your eyes closed, your mind slowing and your eyelids scratchy. You feel your muscles slacken and sway just a little. 

Oof. You open your eyes and steady yourself. You look around and find a bottle of woodsy-scented soap. It’ll have to do. You won’t use too much, either. 

The steam forms a cloud around you. The humidity clogs in your nose and chest and swirls in your head. You’re dizzy as you slap a hand on the tile and turn off the faucet. 

You stagger out. The heat of the water fogs the mirror, further setting you off kilter. You pull on the shirt and shorts then collect your own clothes. You leave the towel on the rod and lean into the door as you unlock it. 

You trip out into the hall and wander along, for a moment, forgetting where you are. You enter the bedroom with the purple bedspread and dump the armful on the dresser. You stumble and sit on the edge of the bed. You slump onto your shoulder and your head lolls. You think the medicine is kicking in. 

You close your eyes and descend into the grey. It’s as if you’re floating on water, swaying and rolling with the tides. Not quite awake and not quite asleep. You hear yourself droning nonsensically. Snort and jerk but can’t break free of the heaviness. The world is moving around you but your eyelids won’t peel back. 

Your head pulses as you sink further and further down. Your subconscious is so deep it’s suffocating. The dim darkens to an endless void through which you hurtle down towards no bottom. The blackness unfurls before you, swallowing you up. 

You wake to the ceiling above you. There’s warmth against your side and a gentle breath brushing over your cheek. You groan and look over as the slumbering form next to you. You nearly scream at the sight of Steve but you don’t have the strength to do more than babble. 

Your arms shake as you sit up, your muscles sore and strained. You hold your head as you try to think straight. You shut your eyes again and urge yourself to wake up. It’s a nightmare. Some twisted dream. 

Your lashes flick up and you tilt your head to follow the yellow light seeping in between the curtains. It’s morning already. Your vision turns vivid and you’re certain you’re truly awake. But how did you end up here? 

“Sweetie,” Steve rasps groggily as he rolls onto his back, “you okay?” 

“Steve,” you look down at the tee shirt, drooping down one shoulder, “how... why am I in here?” 

“Hmm,” he rubs his forehead and opens his eyes, “you don’t remember?” 

“Remember?” 

“You came in here, saying you couldn’t sleep,” he lifts himself up, his chest bare as the blanket falls away, “you wouldn’t go back to bed so... I just let you stay. You seemed pretty out of it.” 

“I... I did?” You gurgle. 

“Must be the pills,” he rubs your back, “we can talk to the nurse again. Sweetie, are you okay?” 

You don’t understand. Why would you come in here? How can you not remember? 

“Nothing... happened?” 

He laughs, “sweetie, what would happen?” 

He stares at you and you grimace, shaking your head, “nothing. Nothing, I just... can’t remember.” 

“Hm,” he hums and his hand slides lower, stopping just above your bum before brushing back up, “just sleeping. That’s it.” 

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #the girl next door #au #silverfox au #series #drabble #mcu #marvel #captain america

[germiyahu]

For years on this website specifically, the ruling order of the day was "it's impossible not to be a racist (etc.) when you grew up in a racist society... that doesn't mean you violently hate poc, just that you benefit from those systems."

I remember when theamazingatheist started a harassment campaign against a teenager for making a YouTube video explaining this concept.

This idea was admirable for what it was, an attempt to wash some of the sting out of terms like "racist" "misogynist" "homophobe," make these terms have a more sober applicable meaning. They weren't pejoratives but calls to action, to look within yourself and start dismantling ideas you never questioned. Hopefully it would inspire genuine activism. It was tied to "not speaking over marginalized groups," in that no matter how much of a good person you thought you were, your experiences and thus your ideas were clouded by these systems. Better not to eat your foot because you're not as anti-racist (etc.) as you think you are.

Well all that is gone now! Because progressives applying their own semi-condescending theory to themselves? Never! And employing these ideas to foster better allyship to Jews? Never!

They can't be the baddies, so they'll come up with any reason they can think of to deflect criticism. Whether it's No True Scotsman, or outrageous claims that antisemitism is not a real phenomenon (any more), gone are the days when you're supposed to humble yourself and look inward and admit that you're antisemitic by default, and that that's okay as long as you try to be better.

Because they're so fucking mad that the term "antisemitic" could be applied to them at all, they froth at the mouth. They don't want to learn and improve their rhetoric and their relations, they just want to expulse this pent up rage inside them and Jews protesting their conduct is getting in the way. It's a buzzkill.

Or they see Jews bringing up antisemitism as no different than conservative pundits bringing up "anti-Christian sentiment," that is, not something to take seriously. But they get more mad at accusations of antisemitism than accusations of "anti-Christian sentiment," I wonder why.

I think they know deep down that this is getting out of hand, and is a bad look, and deeply cringe and embarrassing for them, their movement, and the Left as a whole. But they're too proud and too disdainful of Jews to do anything about it except try to reframe the whole thing as aggression against them by Zionist Supremacists. They're being silenced, their characters are being smeared, how could the sneaky conniving ungrateful cowardly all powerful Zionist sex trafficking genocidal cabal pull the wool over everyone's eyes like this!

#antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #student protests

[feelingthedisaster]

so, me and my mom's bonding activity is to watch shows together, so this means i get to hear her live commentary and opinions. i made a list of my favourites

(disclaimer: this doesnt mean i agree/support what she said)

she talked about jared padalacki and jensen ackles's hotness through supernatural, but not like who's hotter or aged like wine/aged badly, she talked about it in an analytical sense: how the producers used their physical attributes for views and how it changed their portrait as the fans reacted/the actores aged (she says sam started as the 'pretty boy' of the show but as it progressed it stopped)

she insists the actor of eddie was going through some health issues during the filming of season six of 911. her reasoning is that they didnt show his abs as much as they did in the previus seasons so they were covering something up (yep, she went "im not seeing my regular order of firefighter abs, something is wrong")

on the same lane, she also says he got better bc they did show his abs more in season 7

"is this by netflix, right? the intros are all the same"

she diagnosed castiel with autism (she is a psychologist btw)

intense staring at me when rosa diaz came out as bi (which i obviusly ignored)

*watching the harry styles fanfiction movie* me: "dont you ever do that to me" / her: "all your faves are dead"

a lot of complains about the recycling and predictability of the plot of supernatural

an incredible awkard car conversation about lockwood's survivor guilt (we googled his backstory) as the reason of his reckless/almost suicidal actions [she clearly did not want to add to the conversation but i guess the psychologist in her had to]

spn s8, aaron flirting with dean scene "they are making dean gay, arent they?" (didnt tell her anything, there some things you gotta let them figure out on their own)

*edwin payne exists* "well, that's a repressed gay"

[context: we watch shows in english with english subtitles but we are not from a english speaking country, she learned english when she was young and i currently go to classes] me: "i dont need to study for the english test i have tomorrow, i just need to watch one more episode. in fact, tv is actively studying for the listening comphrension part" / her: "right, then im not procrastinating work, im just helping my daughter study for her test then" / "right" / "right"

#gotta love her #thank god this is a “secret” account bc i dont think she would appreciate me telling on the internet about her comments #supernatural #castiel #jared padalecki #spn #jensen ackles #911 #911 abc #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #brooklyn 99 #rosa diaz #eddie diaz #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #autistic castiel #destiel #dean winchester

[rylie-m]

redemption

Summary: In which Y/N Thomas is left to raise her and Rafe Cameron’s baby after he refuses to take responsibility for it. He shows up after two years, ready to redeem himself, but is it too late?

Chapter 2:

After dropping Crew off at daycare, you start to walk towards the cafe that you agreed to meet Rafe at. You had fully thought you’d gotten rid of Rafe for good after his visit in the hospital when Crew was born, but he looked mature now and you were sure he thought that he was much more mature now than ever.

 Of course, Crew knows exactly who Rafe is, he’s seen pictures of him and he knows that he has a dad. He knows his Aunt Sarah, Uncle John B, and Aunt Wheezie very well. You figured that Ward and Rose knew who Crew was, and you had told Sarah to tell them about Crew if they asked, but she said that they had yet to ask. That’s why you were so unsure to bring Crew to meet Rafe this time around, depending on what Rafe had to say, you were willing to let them meet. You knew Crew, you knew his personality, and he would either love, or be terrified of Rafe the first time meeting him. 

With you being a single mom from the beginning, Crew was rarely around older men. Your father and John B were probably the only older men he interacted with, and they had both been around since the beginning. Crew knew a few of your friends' boyfriends, but you didn’t really bring Crew around men very often, there just weren’t many opportunities to. 

As you turned the corner, you saw heard Rafe’s big GMC truck pull into the parking lot, and decided that you’d wait for him so that you could walk in together. After a minute or so, Rafe sees you and starts walking to you. He looks really good. You internally groan at yourself because that was the first thing you thought of. 

He smiles at you and puts his hands in his pockets, “Hey, thank you for meeting me.” He says, feigning confidence. You smile tightly, “Hey, Rafe.” He goes to open the door and holds it open for you, walking in after you. After you both order- with Rafe paying for both of you- you find a table and sit in awkward silence across from each other. 

He takes a shaky breath before starting, “Listen, I wanted to apologize for everything-” You cut him off before he can go any further, “Don’t. I don’t need an apology. You sent money- even after I sent it back. You did what you said you were going to do, there’s no reason to apologize for it.” You say, matter of factly. He visibly deflates and exhales a long breath. “There’s no excuse for what I did though-” You cut him off again, shaking your head, “Rafe, you were 20, that’s an excuse in itself. I didn’t expect you to stay.” He furrows his brows and looks away, then in a quiet voice asks, “What’s he like?” You smile to yourself and start to talk about Crew. It’s obvious to Rafe that he is your whole world. 

After a while of catching up, talking about Crew, and making plans for dinner with him while Rafe is still in town, Rafe has to leave to go to a conference. Rafe stands awkwardly, and holds his arms out shyly. You smile lightly and give him a short hug. He still smells just like he did back then, clean, expensive, coastal. 

3 days later, you’re making dinner while Crew plays with his blocks on the kitchen floor when the doorbell rings. You take a deep breath, preparing for Crew to meet his father for the second time, and the first time that really counts. You smile at Crew and fix his hair, “Do you wanna help momma answer the door?” He nods quickly and jumps up from the floor. 

You look out the window that Crew’s face isn’t smushed against to see Rafe pacing, holding flowers and a suspiciously big box. He turns around and sees Crew’s face squished against the glass, and they make eye contact. You open the door, and Rafe pulls away from his son's curious blue eyes. 

“Hi.” He whispers.

“Hey, come in.” You say, pulling away from the door to let him in.

Crew is now hidden behind your legs, eyeing Rafe curiously. With his little brows furrowed and the slight pout on his face, he looks just like you, Rafe thinks. 

“Crew, honey, this is Rafe Cameron.” You say, picking him up. “He’s gonna be eating dinner with us.” He talks softly, leaning in slightly to talk to Crew, “Hey buddy,” He smiles, trying to soften himself, though it clearly doesn’t work because Crew’s brows scoop deeper towards the center of his face and he immediately ducks his face into your neck. Suddenly, the flowers in Rafes hands feel like they’re going to explode and the box of trains that he got Crew feel more equal to a 600 pound weight. 

You smile, reassuringly at Rafe, who is very clearly trying to connect, “He gets like this, especially around guys. Just give him some time and he’ll come around.” He nods and you show him into the living room, “Sorry he likes to spread his toys out everywhere,” Then you remember the box in his hand, “What is that?” He sets it down, taking it out of the bag, “Trains.” He says, trying not to sound nervous. Crew perks up slightly at that and looks at the bag, examining it. “And flowers, for you.” He states, holding them out, and Crew goes right back to where he was. 

You set Crew down and he immediately finds the fabric of your dress to hold in his hands while you take the flowers, “Thank you. I’m going to go find a vase, and dinner’s almost ready. Do you want a drink or anything?” He sits uncomfortably in the light blue armchair with a knitted yellow blanket with tiny sailboats on the hem, and shakes his head. You nod and lean down to face Crew, “Momma’s gonna be right in the kitchen, okay? Then I’ll be right back.” As Rafe observes you, he remembers vividly that it was the same comforting voice that nursed him back to health in his old room in Chapel Hill, when he woke up with food poisoning while being violently hungover. 

You disappear behind a set of opened double doors, while Crew and Rafe stay frozen in place. Crew looks at Rafe, watching him, while Rafe tries not to make any sudden movements. Rafe moves his hand to the box of trains, slowly and speaks gently, “I heard you liked planes, and trains. I tried to look for a bunch of planes, but couldn’t find them. So, I hope you can settle for trains.” He turns the front of the box towards Crew, showing him the pictures of the collection of plastic toy trains. Crew eyes Rafe, then points to the box, “Trains?” He says, in a tiny voice, his R being replaced with a slight W. Rafes eyes light up and he nods, “Trains.” You walk in, unknowingly ruining Rafe’s only chance that Crew would give him so far, as Crew immediately finds your dress to hold again. You sit on the cream couch and Crew scrambles to sit next to you, on the cushion furthest from Rafe. The whole night goes by just like that. Making awkward conversation about work and family with Rafe over spaghetti and Crew staying as far away from Rafe as humanly possible, even when you tried to encourage him to play with the trains Rafe got him. Unbeknownst to you and Rafe, Crew woke up this morning and now had more of an interest in sailboats. 

After an awkward 2 hours of Rafe trying to interact with Crew, and Crew having none of it. The little boy went down for his nap. That’s the first excuse you give to Rafe, explaining why the little boy wanted nothing to do with his dad. The next excuse is probably more likely, and unfortunately, news you’ll have to break to Rafe. 

“He’s sweet, but he hates me.” Rafe says, disappointed. Still sitting in the chair you left him in before Crew fell asleep. You wonder if it’s with himself or with you for not trying to create more contact from Crew to Rafe. You sit on the chair next to him, “Rafe, I think there’s something you need to know if you plan on sticking around.”

hi everyone, sorry this took soooo long, i've been really busy :( but i hope you like this!

#redemption #rafe cameron x reader

[watermelonlovershigh]

Returning Favors {part 5.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

A Shift Occurs {part 4.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

AN: when i started this chapter i had intended for it to go in a completely different direction but as i began writing it, i let the words flow and wrote it this way instead. i really hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave your feedback and remember to send in things you'd like to see in this series. xoxo

This story contains: mentions of handjobs and blowjobs, slight angst, pillow talk, cunilingus, fluff

{ housemate!harry - friendrry - friends to lovers trope - softrry }

word count- 3,459

While making arrangements to introduce your friends to Harry, he seizes the chance to ask about your abrupt departure after your intimate encounter earlier that day. This conversation unexpectedly leads to Harry performing oral sex on you for the first time.

As you make your way around the street corner, you are greeted by your friends, Mave and Charlotte, who are waving you over to the table they had set aside for your brunch. The cafe features a beautiful outdoor space, perfect for the current time of year. Upon joining them, they quickly pick up on your more upbeat attitude. While you typically don't appear gloomy, you have been feeling rather indifferent for the past year. However today, they observe a slight improvement in your mood.

"Hi, Hi." you lean in to kiss each of their cheeks and sit down at the round table.

"We've ordered you a mimosa. Wasn't sure what you wanted to eat so we haven't ordered our food yet though." Charlotte explans.

"Oh, well thank you." you take a sip of your mimosa and moan at how delicious the drink is.

"What's making you so cheerful today? Is it because of Harry?" Mave questions with cheeky smile, aware of your growing connection with your housemate and the recent revelation of your mutual feelings towards one another. Your friends are genuinely happy for you, knowing how long you've been single and how it affected you.

Brushing them off, you answer, "What? A girl can't look happy on a Sunday morning without there being a reason?" But they know you better then that. The aurora you're giving off is one of a girl who's in love. Though they wouldn't tell you that this soon in your relationship with Harry.

"No it's just," Mave starts, "look, we want the details. Did you guys have sex this morning? Because you look like your glowing and it's not from your skincare routine." Her and Charlotte stare you down, waiting for an answer and you know you must give them one. Otherwise they'll never let this conversation rest.

"Alright, alright. We did do some sexual stuff this morning. But not sex. I just kind of gave him a handjob which then turned into a blowjob."

Your two friends are smiling ear to ear at your confession. "And.... what else? Don't tell us he left you high and dry after you literally had his dick in your mouth." Charlotte utters in a hushed yet audible tone, ensuring that you can hear her amidst the bustling traffic and crowd, while hopefully keeping your conversation private from others.

You express with annoyance in your tone, "It wasn't as you think. I woke up to find him cuddling me and noticed he was aroused. Therefore, I chose to assist him. Once he woke up and realized he was hard, he eventually agreed to my help. I began by giving him a handjob under his briefs, but then decided to go further with a blowjob. And he didn't reciprocate because I left quickly after he came. So, I'm unsure whether he would've wanted to do something for me in return."

Mave reaches across the table and playfully swats your arm. "You fuckin' idiot. You should have stayed to see if he would've pleasured you as well. You could've gotten an amazing orgasm out of him."

"Hey," you spit back, "I did have an amazing orgasm this morning. Just... with my vibrator in the shower before I came here." Though you're sure Harry would beat every single one of your toys if you gave him the chance to prove it.

After chatting for a few more minutes you realized just how hungry you were and decided to order your food and another round of mimosas. You catch up on each others lives and make plans for them to come by the house to hang out one night. They have yet to meet Harry and you thought what better way to introduce them than to invite them over for some drinks and maybe a card game. You'll just have to ask him if that would be okay.

-----------------------------

Upon returning home later that evening, you notice Harry seated on the sofa, engrossed in a pile of papers and his laptop resting on his lap. Presumably grading tests, you assume. After placing your bag in the entryway, you make your way over to the couch. Surprisingly, the atmosphere doesn't feel as awkward as you had anticipated, considering the events that unfolded earlier in the day.

"How was your brunch?" Harry questions, shifting to set all of his work onto the coffee table.

"Great. Really fun." you answer before continuing, "So I have a question."

"Hm, so do I actually but go on." Harry replies, taking a sip of his coffee. He doesn't know what your question is but he knows his question is in reference to why you ran off so quickly this morning after you gave him that blowjob. It's been eating at his mind all day and he'd really like some closure so he can relax.

"Okay, so I was thinking we could have a little get-together with my friends, Mave and Charlotte. They're eager to meet you, and I thought it would be a great opportunity to invite them over this upcoming weekend. We can enjoy some drinks and perhaps even play that card game I purchased some time ago but haven't had the chance to play yet."

Harry nods in agreement. "Yeah, sounds great. How about this Friday night? I can stop by the shops on my way home from work and grab some alcohol. Just let me know what kind they prefer." He is genuinely excited to finally meet your friends. Since becoming your housemate, you've kept your personal life mostly private from him. As a result, he hasn't had the chance to meet any of your family members and has only heard stories about your friends.

"Fantastic," you declare, jumping up from the couch excitedly. "I'll call them right away and let them know. They'll be so happy." Just as Harry was about to remind you that he had a question as well, you've already disappeared from his line of sight. Your sudden departures today seem to be a trend. He reckons he'll have to wait a bit longer to find out the reasoning behind your quick exit this morning.

-----------------------------

At approximately ten o'clock at night, you and Harry are lying in your bed, watching reruns of Friends while trying to stay awake. The room is dark besides the glare of the tv and his cat Pixie is nestled in the middle of the bed, sleeping soundly. Although she hasn't always been allowed in your room, ever since Harry started visiting so frequently, you have embraced her presence as well.

Right as your eyes began to shut, you remember how Harry had a question for you earlier but never got to ask it. You didn't mean to run off like you did. You just got excited to call your friends and let them know they're welcomed to come by the house this Friday for the small gathering. Which in turn made you totally forget he had a question in the first place.

"Harry," you say aloud. The call of his name startles him. He'd just dozed off to sleep and your voice pulled him away from the unconsciousness he was about to enter.

"Mhm, what?" he grumbles, eyes half open as he tries to stay awake in order to hear you speak.

"What's your question? You said earlier you had a question but you never got to ask me it."

Harry found himself more awake as he thought about how to bring up his question. To be honest, he was feeling a bit nervous to ask. Even though this question had been on his mind all day, he hesitated to ask, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or create any distance between you. "Um, was just gonna ask why you left so suddenly this mornin'. You know, after you gave me that blowjob? It seemed like you were ashamed of your actions or somethin'. I was plannin' to return the favor, but you left before I had the opportunity to ask."

With heart shaped eyes, you coo softly, "You were?"

"Well yeah. It's only right that I returned the favor you did for me. I'm not a douche bag like some men can be."

"Awe, that's so sweet of you. But um, I don't know. Guess I remembered how I'd just woke up and maybe didn't smell the best down there or that I may have tasted bad from the hours of sleep I was in prior. Just didn't want to disgust you in any way."

With a gentle tone, Harry expressed, "Y/n, your scent or taste wouldn't have been an issue for me. Even if it was there, I wouldn't have mind. Because it's you, and I genuinely care about you. I would have found pleasure in it regardless. If anyone has ever made you feel insecure about the natural smell of your vagina, they are truly right dicks"

Breathing deeply, you sadly admit, "Yeah, I've had some men attempt to go down on me first thing in the morning but complained about the way I smelt or tasted and so, I just didn't want you to do the same as them."

Sliding impossibly close to you, Harry responds back, "Well I'm not those other men. I respect women more than that and I may just have a thing for oral sex. Givin' and receivin'. Plus, it feels even better when you really know and trust the person."

You giggle shyly and except his closeness, the two of you laying on your sides facing each other. "Dick or pussy though?"

"What?" Harry asks with a sleepy smile, unsure of what you're questioning.

"You said you had a thing for oral sex. So do you prefer sucking dick or eating pussy?"

"Mhm, depends on who the person is and my connection to them. Both are great but it also depends on what mood I'm in to give you a solid answer." It's no secret Harry likes men as well. When you first moved in with him he had a short fling with a guy and you assumed he was gay for like the first month. But then when you heard a girl moaning through his bedroom walls, you realized that wasn't the case. The next day you questioned him and he confidently came out as bisexual to you.

Deciding to continue these questions just to see where it could lead, you keep going, "And, what mood are you in right now?"

Harry suddenly became aware of the dense atmosphere, yet he responded truthfully. "Considerin' that I'm currently in your bed, nearly cuddling you, and you happen to possess a vagina, I would say 'pussy.' However, if I were to discover that you possessed a penis, the answer would be 'cock.'"

He moves one of his hands up to cradle the side of your face. It's so incredibly close to his that he can just about taste the mint of your toothpaste. "Good thing I have one of those two options then and I'm not some alien with no genitals at all."

What Harry wants to say is that he'd love you just the same, even if you were a genitalless alien, but he can't. Not yet anyways. So he responds, "Wouldn't change how I feel about you." With the close proximity, you get the sudden urge to surge forward and clash your lips with his. As if he felt this coming, Harry didn't react surprised at all and accepts the kiss. You both realized this is the first time you've kissed each other. You've shared your feelings, your beds, and you've gave him a blowjob. Yet this makes your first time kissing.

Harry intensifies the kiss by gently prodding his tongue against your lips, and you grant him permission to enter. The kiss is wet, rushed, and somewhat messy, yet incredibly enjoyable. After a minute of exchanging saliva, you pull back to take a deep breath and confidently state, "Prove it then. Prove you're in the mood for some pussy."

With surprise written on his face, Harry leans back a tiny bit to make sure he's reading you correctly. "You sure? I don't have to if......" He'd be more than happy to eat you out right here, right now, but he doesn't want you to ask because you feel obligated to agree or because you're in the heat of the moment.

Responding eagerly, you assert, "Yes, I'm sure. But please be quick before I change my mind." The mention of urgency and the potential for a change of mind prompts Harry to swiftly toss the covers back and carefully positions himself between your legs. He gently lifts Pixie from the bed and places her on the floor where she discovers her cat bed near the window sill and resumes her peaceful sleep.

At this very moment, Harry finds himself surprisingly nervous as he positions himself between your legs. Although he has longed to perform oral sex on you, both this morning and in his countless fantasies, the actual prospect of doing so fills him with apprehension that he may not satisfy you adequately. Additionally, he frets over the possibility of being unable to bring you to orgasm.

Curiosity arose within you as to why Harry was taking such a long time, prompting you to prop yourself up on your elbows. From this viewpoint, you observed him fixating on your bottom half, which was concealed by some skimpy shorts you typically sleep in. However, as soon as he notices your gaze upon him, he swiftly reaches up and tugs at the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down your legs. To his astonishment, you're not wearing any panties which causing Harry to let out a moan upon catching sight of your naked pussy.

Despite the room being enveloped in a soft glow from the television, it remained dimly lit and quiet. Harry couldn't obtain a clear image of your exposed cunt but he could perceive enough to develop a strong liking to it already. However, this attraction isn't solely based on the physical appearance of your vagina, but rather because it's a part of you.

Harry looks up once more to ensure your approval for his actions. With a nod of reassurance from you, he eagerly begins. His mouth envelops your entire pussy, as his tongue moves from your wet entrance to your sensitive clit. The flavor of you on his tongue almost brings him to climax instantly, hands free. This is undoubtedly the best cunt he's ever had. Your skin is incredibly soft and inviting, with only a few short hairs littered around your bikini area from the shave you did two days ago.

As your elbows grow weaker, you find yourself sinking into the comfortable bed below. Harry's tongue skillfully laps up your arousal before focusing on your clit and experimenting with various flicking patterns. Each time his tongue glides over the sensitive nerves, your entire body responds with a powerful jolt of electricity. It's no secret that your clit is extremely sensitive when receiving attention from the right person.

"Oh fuck, Harry. Feels so good." you moan aloud, reaching down to grab onto his curly locks.

You fear he'll tell you not to touch him, but as he briefly moves his mouth away, he commands, "Tug my hair, baby. It feels amazing." Could it be that he just referred to you as 'baby' for the first time? You believe so, and it heightens your arousal even further.

Listening to Harry's wishes, you pull his hair tightly in your fists, causing his face to be nestled against your pussy impossibly closer than before. You begin to move your hips, creating a subtle rocking motion. Although he may feel a slight burning sensation on his scalp due to the intensity of your grip, as he mentioned, he loves the sensation it gives.

A minute more goes by of Harry munching down on your wet pussy when you feel your orgasm nearly bubble over. "I... I'm..." you try to warn but can't even get the words out from how much pleasure you're in. Harry doesn't say a word back, just goes in even harder, more determined to bring you over the edge.

You finally achieve orgasm when he seals his lips around your clit, applying firm and forceful sucks. Your clitoris pulsates within his mouth, causing you to release an animalistic scream as your orgasm sweeps through your body. Your entire body trembles, compelling Harry to firmly hold your hips to keep you in place. He continues sucking on your clit until your orgasm begins to fade and overstimulation sets in.

The hands that once laced in his hair start trying to push his head away. "Har.... Oh God!" you gasp when he gives your tiny nerve a few more kitten licks to make sure he's pulled every ounce of pleasure from you that he can. You lie there trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm as Harry sits up on his knees, breathing heavy with a glossy mouth.

Eager to know, though the answer should be evident with how you look right now, Harry asks, "So.... was I any good? Did that prove what mood I was in to you?"

You glance forward to see a devilish smile plastered on Harry's face and just know he's proud of himself. Which, he should. You don't think you've ever came so hard in your entire life. "Yes," you heave, "Oh God, yes. I'm...., that was, God. That was the best orgasm I've ever had."

"Yeah? You just tellin' me that to boost my ego or are you tellin' the truth?"

"Harry, I quit literally can't feel my bones right now. They're like jello. No man nor any one of my strongest vibrators have made me come that hard. No wonder the ladies liked you."

With the awareness that it's already very late and he has work the next morning, Harry decides to rise from the bed and make his way to the bathroom in the hallway to fetch a damp cloth. Your exhaustion prevents you from mustering the energy to question his actions. When he returns, you immediately recognize what he has and instinctively close your legs, still experiencing discomfort.

Harry takes a seat on the edge of the mattress and lightly taps your thighs, silently requesting you to open up. Reluctantly, you comply. As you feel the damp cloth glide over your swollen pussy, you try to pull away, but he firmly holds you in place with one hand on your hip bone. "Shh, it's alright," he reassures you in a gentle tone. "I'm just gonna clean you up, and then we can sleep, okay?"

As you lie on the bed, you notice Harry's erection prominently displayed through his black briefs and a pang of guilt washes over you for not pleasuring him. "But.......what about you? You're still hard. I could give you another blowjob or handjob. Whatever you want." Despite the tempting offer, Harry is too exhausted to engage in any additional activities tonight. Prior to this moment, he was on the brink of unconsciousness. Consequently, his drowsy state has returned as the explicit actions have ceased.

"It'll eventually go away, Y/n. I've got work in the mornin' and it's past midnight as is. Plus m'too tired to do anythin' more tonight. But, if I wasn't so tired and didn't have work so early, then you bet your ass I'd take you up on that offer."

Harry finishes cleaning between your legs and helps you slip your shorts back on. He then turns the TV off and crawls back into your bed beside you. Though your limbs are still weak, you manage to slide over until your head rests on his bare chest and your top leg is thrown over his hairy thigh closest to you.

As the moonlight glows through your bedroom window, sleep takes over both of you as the world around becomes quiet. The only sounds that can be heard are Pixie's soft purring from her location on the floor, the steadiness of Harry's heartbeat, and your exhails of breath.

In your dreaming state, you're still excited for the arrival of this upcoming Friday where you eagerly await the moment when your friends will finally have the chance to meet Harry. With high hopes for a successful gathering, you envision a joyous time ahead. Unbeknownst to Harry, the card game planned for the small get-together holds an R rating, implying that it will serve as an opportunity for everyone to bond and deepen their connections without the need for uncomfortable conversations in the future. Plus, mixed with the alcohol, you can't wait to find out some of Harry's dirty secrets.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

 // @luv-flor7777  // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown  // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar  // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone //  @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry  // @shadowygladiatorlight  // @manifestrry  //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts  // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

#harry styles #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic rec #friend!harry #friendrry #housemate!harry #housematerry #softrry #soft!harry #harry x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #friends to lovers #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #teacher!harry #bisexual!harry

[talonabraxas]

“We could say that meditation doesn't have a reason or doesn't have a purpose. In this respect it's unlike almost all other things we do except perhaps making music and dancing. When we make music we don't do it in order to reach a certain point, such as the end of the composition. If that were the purpose of music then obviously the fastest players would be the best. Also, when we are dancing we are not aiming to arrive at a particular place on the floor as in a journey. When we dance, the journey itself is the point, as when we play music the playing itself is the point. And exactly the same thing is true in meditation. Meditation is the discovery that the point of life is always arrived at in the immediate moment.” ― Alan Watts

Meditate on Life

[empty-movement]

Nanami-sama, Beware!!!

It's May 7, 1997, and you're about to watch episode 6 of Revolutionary Girl Utena!!!

There was a HUUUGE data leak though, and somehow, in advance of the episode dropping, you were able to catch the storyboards!! (Hell, you even found someone who leaked the script, and screenshots of the episode!) Looks pretty exciting, lots of strange things happening here. The storyboards say episode 8 for some reason, but otherwise it all seems on the up and up!

So you eagerly crack open your May issue of Newtype Magazine to check out the plot summary:

Today's home economics class is cooking practice. At Miki's request, Himemiya and I decided to make "spicy curry." However, the curry powder we use is replaced with extremely spicy curry from India, which is so spicy that Touga's younger sister, Nanami, harasses her. What's more, the spiciness explodes into pieces! The phantom megaton of ultra-spicy curry, 900 billion times more, goes into the pot. When Himemiya and I did that, we were so blown away that our personalities switched!! Hey, hey, you're not kidding!

Wait....what????? That doesn't match the storyboards at all! Or the screenshots??? Sure enough, the episode title listed with this plot summary is Nanami-sama, Beware!...but what's curry gotta do with that?

So you hop in a time machine, and check out Ikuhara's 2011 DVD extras commentary:

This episode originally went into production as “Episode 8.” It was “in production as Episode 8” during scripting, storyboarding, and even after animation started. But it got switched in the broadcast order with “Episode 6 (”Curried High Trip”, which broadcast as episode 8)“, because that episode fell behind schedule. Because I always called this “Episode 8” during the production process, the impression stuck in my mind to this day is: “Curry is Ep 6; the kangaroo is Ep 8.” It’s a comedic story, but it shows Nanami’s feelings for Touga. This wasn’t just about Nanami; it was also about how we’d present Touga. The original plan was to connect stories with a “Touga Episodes” theme: first in episode 8 we’d show Nanami’s feelings for Touga is a comedic way, then in episode 9 we’d show Touga in contrast with [Kyouichi] Saionji, then in episode 10 we’d show Touga using Nanami’s feeling for him, and finally in episode 11 we’d show Touga facing off against Utena. I’d used a group of three identical characters before, in Sailor Moon S [the Amazon Trio?]. It was strangely fun, so I tried sticking them in this show, too. The staff liked them, too (it was probably more like the staff found them convenient), so we turned them into semi-regular characters. It’s largely thanks to Ms. Hayashi, the animation director, that the production troubles weren’t reflected in the quality of the episode. I like how Touga looks so unnecessarily cool during the climax, when he defeats the kangaroo.

Huh!!! In case you're wondering, the next issue of Newtype will have the identical description under an episode 8 titled Curried High Trip. So I guess amid the mess, they just never published an episode description for this one??

Come chat about it in the watch thread on Something Eternal, or just enjoy this weird little tour. :)

#utena #revolutionary girl utena #sku #rgu #utena meta #utena rewatch #empty movement #utena analysis #ikuhara

[elleloquently]

congrats on nearly graduating!! for a college!ellie request, could we have a classic friends to lovers and they confess to each other on one of the last nights of college?:)

[ been talkin' 'bout the way things change ]

| a/n : thank you so much aw )): i loved this so i wrote it asap hehe | c/w : swearing, drinking, elementary ed students caught a stray sorry love u guys

rivers and roads - ellie williams

you were never good with change.

it consumed all of you, a constant gnawing that overtook your entire body.

if you had to choose between having food poisoning or the ache of nostalgia, you would pick the food poisoning.

you hated change.

you hated the way that no matter what you did, or how strongly you felt.. when it came to change, you could never be in charge. you hated things being out of your hands, too.

sure, maybe you were a little neurotic. your friends poked fun at you for it, and you desperately wished that you could shake it off and move on, embracing the next thing with open arms.

the stomach ache caused by the impending reminder that soon all of this would be over had admittedly started months ago. you thought that maybe at least by the end, you would've had time to process and get a grip on things.

of course, you could never be so lucky.

that's why now, dina was practically screeching with laughter at the sight at you blinking away tears while sat at your favorite table in your favorite bar, a shitty rap song blaring in your ears.

"babe, this is entirely not situationally appropriate," dina laughed, squeezing your shoulder. her other hand held a shot glass.

"this is the last time we'll ever be here," you said, hoping that maybe if you got your feelings out loud, maybe the fucking pit in your stomach would let up a little.

"we could always come back," jesse offered, raising his hands in defense when you shot him a glare.

"we won't be in college anymore. it won't be the same," you said. you weren't the only person being a downer.

the entire bar was packed with upcoming graduates, friend groups crying and hugging in between dances and shots. there was a palpable feeling in the air, everyone could feel it.

"shut up. you're breaking my heart," dina said, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and squeezing as tight as she could. "do you want my shot?"

you shook your head, a genuine laugh leaving your throat. "that's all you," you denied.

you clutched harder onto your plastic cup, a vodka cranberry. ellie had made fun of you when you had ordered it.

"what is it, freshman year?" she had teased, to which you elbowed her side. you didn't admit it, but maybe the reason you had ordered it was because that was a little nostalgic, too.

where was ellie, anyway? it usually took a while to get drinks but she had been gone, what, twenty minutes?

you sat up straighter in your seat, sniffling. you squinted and scanned the crowd, finding it hard for your eyes to adjust to the dark due to the random flashes of laser lights throughout the bar.

finally, you found her.

ellie was at the bar, and you could see the drinks that everyone had ordered around her, so clearly she wasn't waiting on the bartender anymore.

you strained your neck and felt disappointed in yourself once you instantly deflated upon the sight of ellie talking to a girl. you tore your eyes away, heart skipping a beat as you downed the rest of your drink.

"i'll be right back," you called to jesse, who was trying to act nonchalant instead of flustered as dina pulled him to dance.

you squeezed your way through the crowd, sight trained on ellie the entire time. it was nearly impossible to make it to the bar counter, nobody wanted to risk giving up their spot.

"excuse me, jesus," you muttered, slipping through a group of oblivious frat guys taking up the entire walkway.

you didn't recognize the girl that ellie was talking to, not that it mattered. ellie was leaning lazily against the bar, shaking her head with a smile.

there it was again, that pang in your stomach.

"hey, sorry," you breezed, coming up next to ellie. she turned to you instantly, making room for you to stand next to her.

"sorry to interrupt, i just needed a drink and you-" your eyes glanced to the drinks that ellie was hoarding after she had offered to order them.

"shit, sorry."

you graciously accepted the refill as ellie's hand fell onto your back.

"you remember alison, right?" ellie asked, gesturing to the blonde stood in front of you. at ellie's words, your eyes widened.

"oh my god! no way! how are you?" relief washing over you as you broke out into a genuine grin.

alison, ellie's sophomore year roommate that happened to have a wonderful boyfriend.

"pretty great, actually," alison beamed, flashing a ring on her finger.

"no fucking way," you gushed, sharing a knowing look with ellie. "what did you study again?"

"elementary education," alison confirmed, tucking her hair behind her ear.

of course. go, alison!

you caught up for a few minutes before helping ellie carry the rest of the drinks to the table. you only halted for a second to roll your eyes in disgust as a guy squeezed your waist as a way to say excuse me.

"i won't miss that," you grumbled, to which ellie shook her head.

"can you believe the fucking rock on her finger?" ellie asked, sliding into her chair.

"leaving college engaged. can you believe that?" you shook your head, spotting jesse and dina from across the bar and realizing they most likely wouldn't be coming for their drinks right away.

"hey, a lot of people do it," ellie shrugged.

"i know, but.. still. i just can't imagine being in that place, you know? i still feel, so... like, little."

"ew. don't say that," ellie scolded, finally taking a sip of her beer.

"shut up, you know what i mean. i just feel like i'm in such a different place compared to like, ninety percent of everyone else. everyone's moving on and they've got their plans and i'm just.. i don't know. i feel stuck."

"you're really uplifting, did you know that?" ellie teased. you swatted at her, the pounding in your chest never subsiding.

out of everything, you would miss this the most. being with ellie, talking with ellie, seeing ellie. you couldn't even let yourself think about it or you would be sick. still though, you used the dark atmosphere to your advantage and studied her as much as you could. you hoped that you would never forget the specific green of her eyes, or the way her freckles danced across her features.

"i'm sure mostly everyone is faking it, anyway," ellie continued. "they're all a wreck, you can tell."

you nodded, tearing your eyes away from ellie and taking a drink. you really couldn't bear it.

"something so anticlimactic about literally graduating college and then just fucking... moving home," you sighed into your drink, chewing at your bottom lip.

"you won't be there forever. besides, you're coming to visit me, right? you've gotta experience a jackson summer. it is completely uneventful and yet, entirely comforting," ellie joked, raising an eyebrow.

you nodded in confirmation, the bass from the music vibrating in your chest.

jesus christ, what was wrong with you?

"truth or drink?" you asked, squaring your shoulders. "best and worst of college."

ellie thought for a second, her eyebrows pinching together. she took a drink anyway, clearing her throat when she thought of an answer.

"worst, that fucking frat party we went to sophomore year. it was not like the movies and i still do not forgive you and dina for dragging me along."

"i had to throw away my shoes," you remarked, faking a solemn tone.

"beeest," ellie dragged out the word, mulling it over in her mind. "that first warm day in the spring every year when we all skip class and do whatever. it's just.. good. and meeting you," ellie finished, taking another drink.

"shut up," you said, face warming. you followed suit and drank as well, your eyes darting away from ellie's face. "you're a liar."

"fuck you, it's true," ellie argued. "you know it's true."

you shook your head, staring down at the table and refusing to meet ellie's eyes. "you're my best, too," you said, hoping it was soft enough that ellie wouldn't hear it over the music, but she did.

"truth or drink, did you hook up with that guy from the club junior year?" ellie asked, completely deadpan.

you choked on your drink, forcing yourself to swallow it down before it came out in a surprised laugh. "what the fuck is wrong with you? obviously not, jesus."

"just asking," ellie stated innocently, raising her hands in defense.

"you're so gross," you complained, wrinkling your nose.

ellie chuckled, looking down with a shake of her head. she visibly relaxed, flicking the glass beer bottle with a plink.

"they're definitely not coming back for these, right?" ellie tilted her head in the direction of jesse and dina, drinks seemingly forgotten.

you laughed, your heart lurching.

god, you were going to miss them so much.

"maybe we can be nice and take them over?" you suggested, having to raise your voice now.

it must've hit a new hour, because the already loud music suddenly felt as though it was pounding through your eardrums. if you stretched your neck to the entrance, you could see the line of people out the door, waiting for wristbands.

ellie nodded once, standing and grabbing dina and jesse's drinks, along with her own.

you jabbed your phone into your pocket, along with a tube of lip gloss. ellie had your card and id, you refused to bring a bag to the bar so ellie was always tasked with stuffing your things into her wallet.

she never complained.

"you wanna get some air?" ellie shouted in your ear, yet you still barely heard her. you nodded in response, jerking your head to the back door.

on the way out, you passed the drinks to a very grateful dina and jesse.

you hadn't realized how humid it felt in the bar until you stepped outside.

you adored the patio. it was a little shabby, but you didn't mind.

string lights were woven overhead, a different vibe compared to the strobing lasers inside. there were a few potted plants, some patio furniture, and a centered, lit fireplace in the middle.

the music was still loud outside, but not as deafening as it was indoors. even so, your heart felt like it was thumping along with the beat.

it was still a little chilly in may, at night at least.

you sat on the cobbled ledge surrounding the fireplace, shadows of flames flickering around ellie's face.

"truth or drink. do you actually like this place, or do you just come here because it's our favorite?" you questioned, lifting your cup up to your lips.

"'ours' being?"

"me and dina, obviously."

ellie took a drink, wincing as your jaw dropped in surprise.

"ellie! you said you did like it!"

"the drinks are cheap," she shrugged.

"not cheap enough," you grumbled into your cup, earning a snort from the other girl.

you were torn between not wanting to meet her gaze, and staring at her as much as you could before you would no longer see each other everyday. the thought of it broke your fucking heart.

you only just met ellie practically a couple years ago, and you didn't want to imagine life without her.

it would be hollow, you thought.

"truth or drink, that time you said you didn't walk in on dina and jesse-"

"shut up," you hushed, taking your longest drink of the night so far.

"oh jesus christ," ellie mumbled. her horrified expression quickly turned into a grin once she saw your face.

the laughter that ensued made you wish so terribly that you could bottle it up and keep it in your pocket forever.

eventually the laughter teetered out, and a comfortable silence settled over the two of you. the music was loud, and you could hear shrieks of laughter and sounds of people singing along from inside.

you pushed out a sigh. your drink was nearly gone.

"are you leaving college with any regrets?" you asked suddenly, hugging your knees to your chest.

ellie looked at you for a moment, as if she were studying you. she had the faintest frown tugging down the corners of her lips. her cheeks were pink. maybe from the alcohol, or the heat from the fire, or the cold wind.

maybe all three.

ellie opened her mouth and then quickly closed it again, tearing her eyes away from you.

"probably," she said finally, taking a swig of beer.

"like what?" you pressed instantly, causing ellie to shake her head.

"it's not your turn anymore," ellie dismissed. "are you leaving college with any regrets?"

"of course," you answered simply. there were a million things that you could be referring to, but the only thing that you knew would always weigh on your mind was being in love with your best friend and not doing anything about it.

"like what?" ellie leaned in closer, as if you were going to reveal a secret.

"hey," you disapproved, but didn't truly mind. "i don't know, el. there's like, so much." you heaved a sigh, stretching your legs out before bending them in front of you, crossing one over the other.

"i love how specific you are," ellie stated, and you groaned into your hands.

you took a small sip before setting your cup on the ground next to you. "i don't know. maybe... i didn't really date, you know? i feel like everyone has these super funny hook up stories and i just.. i don't know."

"oh," ellie replied simply, twisting her fingers in her lap.

"i'm wording it wrong," you rushed, eyes scanning ellie's features. she laughed lightly, giving you grace.

"i guess i just held onto a crush for a long time," you finally admitted, bracing for impact. your fingers found plastic and you pulled it up to your lips, eyes shut while you waited for a response.

"you never told me this," ellie murmured simply, though it was nearly lost in the music.

"it's embarrassing." you spared her a sideways glance, and were caught off guard by the expression forming on her face.

it didn't look like she was going to tell a joke, or tease you about something stupid. ellie's eyes softened and she frowned, her eyebrows pinching together as she stared at her lap.

"that's fair. i get what you mean, anyway," ellie finally answered.

your heart twinged. you didn't really want to think about ellie liking anyone. the pit in your stomach finally wasn't from nostalgia, but jealousy.

"oh," was all that you could manage to say.

you both stayed silent, listening to the music that poured outside.

"i'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," you finally baited, curiosity getting the best of you.

"you're crazy," ellie said with a dry laugh, tipping the bottle back once more.

"why is that crazy? you're my best friend, you're supposed to tell me everything," you explained, trying not to be offended.

"not everything," ellie disagreed, with a tsk of her tongue.

you frowned. "come on. we're days away from not seeing each other again."

"don't say that," ellie warned. "i don't plan on like, ghosting you or whatever. so unless you do, don't say that."

"just tell me," you pleaded, scooting just the tiniest bit closer.

ellie finally met your gaze again and sucked in a breath, staring at you as if she were thinking something over. she looked unreal in the fire's glow.

jesus, even just now you could cry.

"you're being weird," you stated to deflect from your emotions. "it's not that big of a deal."

"i don't wanna fuck anything up," ellie stressed, causing a look of confusion to cross your face.

"how would that.. oh, my god! is it someone we know?" you asked, curiosity and jealousy and sadness tugging at your body and sending chills down your arms.

ellie stared blankly at you, watching you work through your never ending assumptions.

"alison? does it hurt to see her engaged?" you joked.

"you're really annoying," ellie deadpanned.

"is it... shit, ellie. is it dina?"

ellie coughed, eyes widening. "jesus, no! don't be stupid."

you sighed in defeat, tracing a finger around the rim of your cup. "i don't know anyone else that we know that you would like."

"i didn't say that we knew them."

"but you didn't deny it."

"go back inside," ellie told you flatly.

"rude," you scoffed. ellie held a straight face until she could tell by your face that you were still mentally making a list of suspects. a chuckle begrudgingly escaped her.

"i'm gonna miss you, you know," ellie said suddenly. it made your stomach drop, the casual yet earnestness of her tone.

tears threatened to spill over in your eyes again, and you didn't care about being laughed at for crying in the bar. you spared a glance at ellie, and she was looking at you again, trying to gage a reaction.

"fuck, ellie. i can't do this. seriously. maybe i can convince my professors to fail me and fail you and we'll be stuck here together again."

"it won't be that bad. you'll be alright," ellie said, firm yet soft.

"what's next, then?" you questioned, meeting ellie's eyes. you chewed on your bottom lip. you would not let a tear fall.

"well," ellie visibly hesitated, her eyes darting over your own. "we'll all move home but we'll still be frien-"

"best friends," you interjected.

"-best friends," ellie clarified. "you'll visit for the summer and then you'll go home and start a job and you'll be okay. we'll text but you'll still call me every single time you have a joke or story to tell me because i know, you can't waste something on a text without hearing my-"

"actual reactions," you finished with a whisper. ellie nodded.

"right," she continued. "inevitably jesse and dina will get married and we'll see each other at the wedding-"

"could you be my wedding date?"

"sure. and we'll all be best friends, just like always. we'll probably get a little too drunk at the wedding and since we always joke about it, we'll end up actually making out and-"

"ellie williams!" you exclaimed while hitting her arm, your face hot.

"my bad," ellie said, twisting her lips to hide a smile.

"you're not funny," you huffed, butterflies swirling in your stomach.

"i'm sorry," ellie apologized with a laugh. you nibbled at your bottom lip, transported back into thought.

"why won't you tell me about your crush?" you asked.

ellie sighed. "i already told you. don't wanna ruin anything."

you opened your mouth to speak, but you could've sworn the music got even louder.

"don't forget me?" you nearly pleaded, finding ellie's eyes.

"never," ellie reassured you, looking the most serious you had seen her all night. you felt the urge to shrink under her gaze, but you managed to hold your own.

"promise? i mean, what if once we're apart you just-"

"i wouldn't." ellie finished the rest of her beer, the glass clanking against the ground as she set it on the cobblestone.

"how can you be sure?" you were fighting for reassurance. too worried, too sentimental.

ellie stared at you for a long moment, completely silent. there was a small crease on her forehead as she watched you. she hesitated, like she was debating on something.

slowly, gently, ellie's hand was placed on your cheek. you didn't have even a second to process the action before ellie was gently pulling you forward, pressing her lips against your own.

it was sweet. careful. you felt ellie resist a laugh, probably due to the flavors of vodka and cranberry emitting from your mouth. you melted into the kiss and into her palm, the warmth of her skin pressing into your cheek.

after a few seconds, you pulled apart.

you didn't realize how tightly your eyes were screwed shut until you went to open them. you blinked, silence settling as the music comically blared around you.

"don't do that if you don't mean it," you choked out, even though the action was already done.

ellie blinked. she scanned your face once more before pulling you back in, attaching her lips to your own.

for once, you didn't overthink it. you just let it be. it felt right, like you should've been kissing ellie all along.

once you were separated, you smiled sadly. "me too," you muttered, only being able to think about how much time you wasted not being with ellie, because you were scared.

"well, shit," ellie mumbled, maybe the weight of the situation finally registered within her. "we graduate in three days."

"please shut up," you insisted with a groan.

"fuck, im sorry. look, do you wanna just be friends? i'm sure you'll move on and-"

"i don't wanna move on." you shook your head. "ellie, it's genuinely been years. i couldn't."

"me neither."

"then... what the fuck?" you asked, exasperated and giddy and devastated. your heart pounded.

"did you know that joel already thought that we were dating?" ellie quipped suddenly.

you laughed, a sound of surprise escaping you. "i'm sorry, what?"

ellie nodded, wincing at the painfully awkward memory. "when you visited during winter break. because you came a couple days before jesse and dina, maybe. he kept making these subtle little jokes like, dude, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"holy shit, is that why he cooked that huge dinner the first night?" you giggled, puzzle pieces rapidly forming together in your mind.

ellie blew out air from pursed lips, her silence answering your question. you laughed loud and hard until your sides hurt, ellie joining in once the embarrassment left her face.

you laughed as you clumsily pressed your lips together once more, the kiss teetered with giggles and smiles.

"oh god," you sighed, overcome with emotion. your cheeks burned and the bar was finally, finally playing a song that you actually liked.

you knew that you had to rejoin dina and jesse, and that the night would end eventually.

though now maybe you did have something to look forward to, a change that you would gladly welcome with opened arms.

"still best friends, right?" you asked, leaning close to ellie's ear and damn near shouting once you were back inside.

"obviously," ellie replied, squeezing your hand in her own.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fanfic #ellie tlou x reader #ellie williams college au #requests are open btw