#AND IT'S BEEN LIKE THIS FOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FOUR YEARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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reasonsforhope · 3 days ago
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"Helio da Silva, a retired business executive from Brazil, single-handedly planted over 41,000 trees in his hometown of Sao Paulo over the last two decades.
Flying over the Brazilian metropolis of Sao Paulo, it’s tough to miss the 3.2-kilometers-long and 100-meter-wide green strip of trees wedged between two of the city’s busiest roads. It is known as Tiquatira Linear Park, and it is the work of a single man who worked tirelessly for over 20 years in order to transform a previously dilapidated area into an actual jungle within the urban jungle that is Sao Paulo. Originally from the town of Promissao, about 500km from Sao Paulo, Helio da Silva was a successful business executive for many years, but after retiring, he took it upon himself to transform the degraded banks of the Tiquatira River into a green oasis for his community. He started planting trees there in 2003 and hasn’t stopped since.
73-year-old da Silva recently told AFP that he wanted to leave a legacy to the city that adopted him decades ago. Within the first four years of his epic project, he single-handedly planted 5,000 trees in an area that had long been abandoned and known to be frequented by drug dealers and users. His impressive feat prompted the municipality of Sao Paulo to recognize his efforts and acknowledge the area as the first linear park in Sao Paulo. This only emboldened da Silva, who continued planting native trees.
By 2020, Helio had planted more than 25,047 trees over a 3.2-km-long area, achieving a survival rate of 88 percent. For every 12 trees, he planted a fruit-bearing species in the hopes of attracting birds and animals to his green oasis. His bet paid off, as according to the municipality, 45 types of birds have been identified in the park. Today, the Tiquatira Linear Park numbers over 41,000 individual trees, and Helio da Silva doesn’t plan on stopping planting until he reaches at least 50,000 of them.
“My motivation comes from the trees themselves because trees give us flowers and fruits, absorb rainwater, attract birds and provide us with wonderful shade and fresh air,” da Silva told Common Earth.
The retired executive estimates that he spent about $7,000 per year on his tree-planting efforts since 2022, but the way he sees it, it was a worthwhile investment for himself, his family and the whole of Sao Paulo. Plus, he saved a lot of money by planting the trees himself.
Once labeled as crazy for spending most of his time planting trees in an area most people avoided, Helio da Silva is now hailed as a local hero. He sometimes receives help from like-minded nature lovers, but he is still the driving force behind this amazing project. Every Sunday, he comes to Tiquatira Park to plant more trees.
Over the years, the city gym and playground equipment, tables, benches, toilets, and Tiquatira Linear Park eventually became one of Sao Paulo’s most popular areas."
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-Article via OddityCentral, October 4, 2024. Video via France24, September 26, 2024.
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Note: ONE SINGLE PERSON CAN MAKE A SUCH A DIFFERENCE
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fastandcarlos · 1 day ago
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Children Once Again : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: when you’re invited to the f1 as an ambassador the last face you expect to see is that of your childhood best friend
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liked by mclaren, landonorris and 792,057 others
ynusername: such an honour to be in monza to watch the grand prix, thank you so much to mclaren for the awesome hospitality 🧡
68,472 comments
username1: no way you finally for to go to a race!
mclaren: it was an honour to welcome you and host you at your very first f1 race 🧡
username2: hope you had the best time ever yn ❀
kendalljenner: told you that you’d absolutely love it 😂
ynusername: @/kendalljenner I should’ve listened to you!
username3: ngl she seemed to be really close with lando when they were around the paddock together!
oscarpiastri: thank you for being such an awesome guest to have with us this weekend!
username4: papaya really suits you btw yn 😉
username5: and you got to go to monza too, that’s one of the best races on the circuit!!!
landonorris: can’t believe we finally got to see each other again, let’s not leave it so long next time 😂
ynusername: @/landonorris you’re still just as annoying as ever 😂
username6: wait wtf is going on here
did they already know each other??
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liked by oscarpiastri, kendalljenner and 837,018 others
ynusername: never in a million years did I think I’d get reunited with this guy, nearly 14 years later and we’re back together again đŸ„č
71,950 comments
username7: wait so they were friends at school and reconnected? omg that’s adorable
username8: see the f1 really does change lives 😂
georgerussell63: how you managed to put up with him growing up is crazy to me!
ynusername: @/georgerussell63 it was hard work at times 😂
username9: I can just imagine them causing so much trouble when they were younger!!
landonorris: 14 years to make up for but the rest of our lives to be back together causing mischief again!!
username10: look at how happy lando looks to be back with her again
mclaren: we’re so pleased we could unknowingly bring the two of you back together again 🧡
ynusername: @/mclaren I owe you guys so much for inviting me in the first place
username11: this is just the sweetest story ever 😭
oscarpiastri: at least I don’t have to listen to you guys reminiscing anymore 🙄
username12: so happy they got to reunite together đŸ„ș
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liked by danielricciardo, ynusername and 2,038,173 others
landonorris: a dream weekend with my childhood best friend, still feeling just like big kids and like we’ve never not been each other’s lives đŸ„č
73,067 comments
username13: and you’re sure she’s just a friend are you???
alex_albon: these photos suggest you’ve had more than just a dream weekend to me
username14: you can just tell how fond of her lando still is 😭
danielricciardo: yeah, sure “just” friends 😉
username15: who is buying a friend flowers that are that nice!?
ynusername: you’re not gonna be able to get rid of me so easily this time around!
landonorris: @/ynusername good because I don’t want you to go anywhere anyway đŸ„ș
username16: I don’t want these two to go their separate ways again 💔
maxverstappen1: you’ve known me since we were kids and yet you don’t hug me like that đŸ€š
landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 stop reading so much into things 🙄
username17: you’re not kidding anyone norris 😂
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liked by oscarpiastri, georgerussell63 and 782,607 others
ynusername: the first photo was lando when I surprised him at the race, now compare that to the last one after spending four hours with me 😂🧡
73,058 comments
username18: they couldn’t even stay away from each other for more than a week!!
maxverstappen1: I can so see why you two were the best of friends after meeting you 😂
username19: just look at how excited he is to see her đŸ„ș
danielricciardo: it was a joy to meet you here and hear so many childhood stories of lando’s!!
username20: ofc cause only a friend would do something like this right??
landonorris: stop lying to people, I really was happy to have you here for the whole time 😂
ynusername: @/landonorris that’s why you banished me to the paddock for most of the afternoon 👀
username21: it breaks my heart knowing they spent so long apart when they seem to get on so well

carlossainz55: it was fun embarrassing lando with you for the whole weekend!!!!
ynusername: @/carlossainz55 I had no idea he was still as stupid as he was back in school đŸ€ŠđŸ»â€â™€ïž
username22: he loves spending time with you really yn 😂
oscarpiastri: I’m sure I saw him shed a tear when you told him you had to go
landonorris: @/oscarpiastri definitely tears of joy!!
username23: we really missed out on this friendship for so many years!
alex_albon: still sticking with the friendship storyline I see

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ynusername just posted two stories
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alex_albon: if you went out with one you’d be a true passenger princess!
ynusername: when do you plan on letting this go??
username24: can you two just hurry up and date already?
georgerussell63: look at how handsome he is yn, you can’t deny it 😂
username25: put us out of our misery please and just announce it!
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danielricciardo: why are you two kids holding hands!?
username26: I still refuse to accept that you two are just friends!
username27: are you playing us all by pretending to just be friends?
charles_leclerc: when will you two just wake up and see it??
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liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 2,492,613 others
landonorris: don’t tell her but I secretly loved her back in school all those years ago, and I guess it’s fair to say I still love her just as much now ❀
203,362 comments
username28: finally they’ve given us what we wanted for so long đŸ‘đŸ»
alex_albon: can’t believe you tried to convince me that you two weren’t dating 🙄
oscarpiastri: couldn’t be happier for the two of you đŸ„°
username29: these two are the perfect reason as to why you should believe in destiny 😭
danielricciardo: this might just be the worst kept secret in the world!!
carlossainz55: i feel like I’ve watched a movie watching your romance unfold đŸ„ș
username30: the fact he’s always been in love with her melts me đŸ« 
charles_leclerc: well aren’t you guys just the cutest 😭
username31: please don’t ever lose contact with each other again!
georgerussell63: you guys are perfect for each other, so pleased you managed to find one another again
username32: all these years and yet none of us knew that he actually only ever had eyes for her

mclaren: congratulations to you both, secretly we’re taking all the credit for this 🧡
landonorris: @/mclaren you guys can absolutely take credit, thank you for inviting yn all those weeks ago!
username33: this is the kinda romance that everyone dreams of, only this time it actually came true 🧡
ynusername: it was only ever you 💞
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vamptizm · 3 days ago
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NOT A SECRET — paige bueckers
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pairing : paige bueckers x wnba!fem!reader
synopsis : the bliss of winning the wnba championship causes a big slip up that exposes your relationship to the world
warnings : explicit language, alcohol, cigars and sexual innuendos (if you don’t like the new york liberty, you can replace it with your favourite team idc)
note : i haven’t checked for typos that thoroughly so
 my bad
word count : 2.6k
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What’s better than succeeding in life in almost every aspect? Sharing that success with someone you love and that loves you back, unconditionally and wholly. Meeting Paige Madison Bueckers had undoubtedly been one of the best things that life had blessed you with, other than your flourishing career. The two of you had met in 2019, both playing for team USA. Later on you would meet again at UConn, playing and succeeding alongside each other for the past four years. It wasn’t until barely a year ago, that the two of you decided to be brave enough to confess your love. But sadly, everything must end for a new chapter to begin, and here you were, living a two and a half hour drive from her to chase your dreams.
Luckily for you, Paige was the most dedicated and passionate girlfriend in the world, making it her mission to attend as many of your games during the playoff season as possible. Today was no different. It was her birthday, her special day, and here she was, supporting you. Hoping to celebrate you, rather than celebrating herself.
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You were pacing around the open kitchen of your—extremely overprized—apartment, the nerves and anxiety eating at you like maggots, heart pounding in your throat and hands sweaty. This was by far, one of the most important games in your life so far, if not more important than the game against Iowa only six month ago.
“How about you stop walking around in circles and c’mere?” Paige spoke up from her spot on the malta-beige couch, arm slung over the back rest as her neck craned slightly to look back at you.
“I can’t, I feel like I’m about to throw up.” You spoke, your voice coming out almost like a choked whine, wiping your hands down on your sweatpants for the umpteenth time in the past hour.
You only had an hour left until you had to be ready and at the Barclays Center. Two and a half hours until the final game against the Minnesota Lynx began. You were a mess, and no one could blame you.
Sighing at your distressed state, the blonde lifted herself off of the couch, walking towards you with sympathetic eyes. She hated seeing you this way. It wasn’t the first time, and definitely wouldn’t be the last, but it never burdened her. If you needed to cling to her like a lifeline, she would be there. Every. Single. Time.
“Oh, baby. C’mere.” Her arms opened wide once she was standing a mere foot away from you, wrapping you into a hug. So tight and warm, so comforting and safe that for a moment, it felt like all your worries vanished into thin air. The only thing that mattered was the intoxicating scent and the protective warmth of your girlfriend.
You buried your face into the crook of her neck, arms wrapping around her waist as you allowed yourself to breathe—really breathe—for the first time since you had woken up. “I’m just scared. What if I mess up? What if I disappoint everyone and then I’ll be the rookie that ruined everything.” You mumble into her neck, voice slightly muffled but she understood you perfectly.
“Hey. Hey, look at me.” Paige’s voice was firm, yet it didn’t lack the tenderness and gentleness you so desperately needed. Her hands snaked up, pulling away from the hug just enough to be able to cup your face in them. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You’re on top of the league right now, if not the world. This is not going to ruin your career. It is not going to diminish everything you have achieved and you’re sure as hell not going to disappoint everyone.”
With her hands cradling your face, thumbs brushing against your cheeks and eyes looking deeply into yours, you couldn’t help but tear up. Maybe it was the stress, maybe the nerves, or maybe it was the reassurance and praise that not only her words offered, but her entire presence in that moment.
“You’re going to be great, just as you’ve always been. How many times have you felt just like this and ended up wiping the floor with everyone?”
The way she was looking down at you almost had your knees crumbling, so gentle and sincere. “You think so?” Your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper and if it had been any other situation, you would’ve cringed at yourself.
“Baby, I know so.” Paige didn’t have to say more than that. It was enough to boost your confidence from basement level, to the roof.
You didn’t say much either, choosing to bask in the moment, hands snaking up to lay over hers that were still cupping your face, looking up at her with glassy eyes and a faint smile. In that moment, it was only appropriate for you to inch closer, placing a soft and short kiss on her pillow soft lips.
A smile crept up on the blonde as you pulled back again, “So
 How about ‘pre-game good luck’ head?”
“Well
 Wait, No! I’m still in distress.”
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The arena buzzed with a low hum of anticipation as you stood at the edge of the court, taking in the packed stands, the flashing lights, and the sea of Liberty blue and green. Your heart was pounding—though you'd had nerves all day, they'd sharpened now that the moment was upon you . You scanned the crowd, gaze catching Paige's in her seat near the front. Paige's steadying smile softened the sharp edges of Your anxiety, and you exhaled, focus narrowing. This was it. The moment you had been working your ass of for. It was now or never.
As the whistle blew, your nerves dissolved like mist, replaced by the razor focus of competition. Everything outside the court vanished, your only objective now to take down the Lynx and bring home a win for the team. But as the first quarter unfolded, it became clear this game wouldn't go as planned. Your team struggled to find their rhythm, their usual crisp passes and quick plays seeming off. Shots were bouncing off the rim, free throws missed their mark, and the Lynx defense was ruthless. Every time you managed to drive toward the basket, you felt hands clawing at your arms, hips bumping you hard off course. You fought to keep your form steady, but even your own three-pointers—normally a guaranteed lifeline—fell just short. Beside you, Sabrina was playing through visible pain, her movements cautious, hindered by her UCL injury.
Paige's chest tightened with each missed shot and lost point, her eyes tracking your every move. She could see your frustration mounting, shoulders tensing after every failed attempt, and every bit of her wanted to rush down there, to shield you from the weight of this game. Tell you that she believed in you more than anything.
By halftime, the Liberty had fallen behind by nearly double digits. You felt your stomach knot and churn as you walked back down the tunnel toward the locker room, breath shaky, mind racing over every failed shot, every error. Before you knew it, hot tears were spilling down your cheeks, stinging with the shame of coming up short. You barely noticed the footsteps trailing you until you heard Paige's voice calling out her name, a beacon of comfort piercing her distress.
You slowed and turned, and there was your girlfriend, just outside the locker room door, her eyes brimming with concern. A teasing voice broke the tension—Stewie, giving you a gentle nudge on the shoulder. "Hey, save some of those tears for the win, rook. You're not out of this yet."
Despite yourself, you let out a shaky laugh, and then you were in Paige's arms, face buried against her shoulder. You clung to her, breathing in the familiar scent and drawing strength from your girlfriend's embrace. "I'm playing like shit right now," you mumbled, voice thick with disappointment.
She tilted your chin up, meeting your eyes with steady determination. "Hey, look at me. You've been through worse than this. Most of these people today are here to watch you. You're gonna go back out there and you're gonna play your game. I know you. You're not done." Her words wrapped around you like armor, steadying your nerves. With a last kiss on the cheek, Paige whispered, "Go show them who you are, Ma."
Buoyed by the reassurance, you returned to the court for the second half with renewed fire only ten minutes later. Your team began to close the gap, each player digging deep as they fought to find their rhythm. Your shots began to connect, and your movements were sharper, cleaner, feeding off your team's newfound energy. You could feel Paige's eyes on you from the stands, grounding you with every step.
By the time the game went into overtime, your team had clawed their way to a slim four-point lead, the clock ticking down the final seconds. With a fierce determination, you seized her moment—gripping the ball just past half-court, you made the reckless decision in a split second. You set your stance and launched a deep three-pointer, watching as the ball arched high into the air. The arena fell silent, everyone holding their breath as it spun toward the basket.
And then—swish. The ball dropped cleanly through the net, and the crowd erupted, an unstoppable wave of sound crashing over the court. Your teammates surged around you, pulling you into hugs and shouting in joy, their faces bright with triumph. You felt the overwhelming relief, the weight of victory sinking in as tears of happiness filled your eyes.
Amid the chaos, your gaze instinctively searched for Paige, who was already standing by her seat, pride radiating from her. Without thinking, you ran toward her, your heart full to bursting. When you reached Paige, your threw your arms around her, catching her in a fierce embrace. Before either of you registered what you were doing, you pressed a kiss to Paige's lips, the world melting away in that single moment. You were on cloud nine and nothing could bring you down, anytime soon.
Paige held you close, tears shimmering in her own eyes as she whispered, "I'm so proud of you, Baby. You fucking did it."
And for the first time in a long time, you felt the weight of every struggle, every doubt, lifted, replaced by the solid warmth of love, victory, and the freedom to embrace who you truly were.
But then it dawned on you. The sudden realization of what you had just done and your face dropped, heart pounding impossibly faster in your throat all while Paige continued to hold you close. "Oh my god... Oh. My. God." You could barely manage to find the words, the guilt of what you had just done so impulsively hitting you like a wave and throwing you off that thrown you had been sitting on just a mere minute ago.
"I'm so sorry. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck... Oh god, I fucked up. The whole world just saw that, what do we do?" It was clear as day that you were panicking, the fear of disappointing your girlfriend eating away at you.
Paige however, didn't seem to have lost that smile on her face, her bright eyes almost blinding with the sparkle that shimmered in them, all while gazing at you. "I don't care. We've talked about this before, I want the world to know."
"Really?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, not trusting yourself to keep it from cracking in that moment.
"Yes, really. I would be fucking insane if I had anything against the world knowing that I'm not only dating the most wonderful person alive, but also a champion."
Your frown quickly turned upside down into a small smile, heart searing with love and pride. Not only were you a winner tonight, but with her on your side, you'd be a winner for the rest of your life.
"Now go and celebrate, you deserve it." The blonde began to release you from her grip, a soft grin playing on her lips.
"Come with me." You suggested instantly, not wanting to be apart from her for even just a second, if you didn't have to. "I wanna show off my prettier trophy on her birthday."
Paige's grin melted into a smirk, the sparkle in her blue eyes suddenly clouded and you had to make sure that your own eyes weren't playing tricks on you. "Your trophy, huh? Oh, I'm gonna fuck you so good when we get back home, champ."
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Back in the locker room, the team was in full championship mode. As you and Paige stepped in, you were instantly drenched with a spray of ice-cold champagne, your teammates laughing and cheering as they each took turns celebrating. The room was filled with a mix of joyous shouts, laughter, and the sticky-sweet smell of champagne spilling from bottles held high. You could feel the bubbles fizzing on your skin, jersey soaked through, but none of that mattered—this was the taste of victory, and you drank it in like the best moment of your life.
Stewie grinned, grabbing a cigar and offering it to you with a proud nod. “Here you go, rook. You’ve earned it.”
You took it with a chuckle, feeling the weight of the cigar in your hand as you looked around at your ecstatic teammates. You didn’t smoke often, but right now, it felt like the perfect way to mark the moment. As you lit up, you took a slow draw and exhaled, watching the smoke curl into the air, feeling an odd thrill in the movement. Around you, your teammates roared in laughter and cheered you on, playfully tousling your hair and congratulating you as you relaxed further into the moment.
Paige stood slightly apart from the chaos, watching you with an expression of open admiration. Paige’s gaze lingered on you, catching every spark of joy in your eyes, every smile, and every bit of laughter that spilled from your lips. She let herself soak in the sight, wanting to imprint it on her memory—this perfect image of you, triumphant and glowing, a little champagne-drunk and flushed from the celebration. She didn’t care about the sticky residue of the champagne on her own skin or the faint smell of smoke in the air; all she could focus on was you, looking impossibly beautiful.
As you took another drag, exhaling the smoke with an air of confidence that was as charming as it was unfamiliar, Paige’s heart skipped a beat. There was something about the way you held herself tonight, bold and carefree, that sent a shiver down Paige’s spine.
You caught Paige’s eyes and, with a giggle, took a playful step toward her, the effects of the champagne clear in your soft, relaxed gaze. “Are you okay over there?” you teased, tilting your head with a grin, clearly catching on to Paige’s stare.
Paige’s lips curled into a smirk, her voice low as she leaned in, brushing a hand along your arm. “Oh, I’m doing great,” she murmured, her tone filled with a hint of mischief. “Just
 can’t wait to get you home.”
Your eyes sparkled with a playful challenge as you smirked right back, the faint scent of champagne and cigar smoke hanging in the air between them. “I’m all yours in an hour or so,” you whispered, leaning in close enough that only Paige could hear.
“Longest hour of my life,” Paige replied, her voice barely above a breath, her eyes gleaming with anticipation as they lingered on your smile.
The locker room buzzed around you, but in that moment, you both were in your own world, two people tangled in a look filled with promises for later, ready to savor every bit of this win—together.
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heroesneedalancer · 2 days ago
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Post by u/DJConvex to r/AskReddit on Nov 6, 2024:
People who work in DC for the government, what is the vibe?
Comment by u/Meduselde:
Resigned. We are generally very good about not discussing politics in the workplace but the vibe was obviously off. My more conservative colleagues who were happy Trump won were extremely respectful. There wasn't smug gloating and they were very obviously being cognizant of others' feelings even more than normal. It was extremely appreciated. Ultimately, we survived the first administration and will survive again. It's not necessarily Trump who was the problem last time, but his inexperienced senior appointees. The world isn't going to end nor do I feel democracy will crumble at his feet. It's just gonna be chaotic, and that's the worst part as a worker bee. At least with Biden we had consistent leadership and clear guidance, even if you didn't agree with it. Under Trump, your "yes man" says "no" and that's how you rotate through four SECDEFs. But as a sign of hope, it also means that even the most loyal DO say "no" sometimes, especially when businessmen are finally confronted with the realities of governance.
They chill out REAL quick on their dismantlement plans when they see the work these agencies do and what's at stake if they don't stand up for their people. It's easy to say you will dissolve or cut funding for something when you do not truly understand it. And as much as people say we can ALL be magically replaced with "yes men," even the most stone-hearted appointees recognize that the last thing you ever want is to lose the entirety of your skilled workforce. They learn it's best to get the skilled people to work towards their vision and not hire enthusiastic but stupid people to attempt the same. If they do, they risk looking inept themselves. You don't get skilled federal workers in a blue portion of the country to work for you by being a fucking Nazi. We're cranky and will make your life hell if you behave like that. I'm not talking about some sort of organized resistance movement because we feel like it. That's wrong. But just imagine hundreds of thousands pissed off at you. If that's the Deep State at work, then we aspire to be the quality of swampy Deep State your racist uncle thinks we are. If implementing dictatorship was that easy, Trump would have taken out every agency his last term and fired us all. I am actually extremely proud of the resiliency and checks and balances that the American federal government has in place to prevent most of the shit he says he can achieve by waving a magic executive wand. (He's done this once. He knows he can't. He just lets the majority of the population believe he can.) Us feds will make it, as we always have.
And we will live up to our oath to serve the Constitution, not a president. We serve every official of every party faithfully within the bounds of legalities and our oath. Working for administrations you may not like it's just a part of the job that we all recognize. Public servants at the federal level generally hold that extremely close to their heart. The ones that don't (I'm talking to YOU, WaPo "informants!") put us to shame. We're just tired, man. I can't believe it has already been four years since the last round. There's going to be some waves, no doubt, and some people definitely are going to be hurt at upper levels. But grab a Twisted Tea and buckle up. We'll at least pretend it's meant to be a roller coaster and ride it. TL;Dr Democracy is not going to die. But a drink and "thanks" would go a long way.
EDIT: Woah! I woke up this morning and am surprised by how much traction this got. I'm sad that this was the most positive thing some people had read. I'm sorry it's been that bad. I am not predicting outcomes. I have no idea how it's going to go. It's going to be bloody. But the hope I am trying to get across is that we are a resilient people and a group of (generally) good people. It will be okay, okay? The people that really make or break your daily life are those around you and your local government. Hold those around you close to your heart and always be kind. Everybody go outside, take a deep breath, eat something you love, and hug your grandma (even if she voted differently). The world is still turning and the sky is still blue. Being surrounded by spiraling anger on the internet only makes us the losers, not those we disagree with. The only thing we can do right now is wait. We have a few months to cool off! Enjoy your holidays!
EDIT 2: I think everybody has forgotten about this, but go check out the memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff at the end of Trump's first term after January 6. The feds basically said "fuck that" when people were scared that the government was going to turn the military on them to help Trump in some way. While it was specifically addressed to our armed forces members, it was spread throughout the DOD and beyond. Partially as a result of federal workers' fear (not actually ordered, to be crystal clear) that they would be asked to turn on citizens. This sentiment was echoed across the entire government via internal emails (from Trump appointees!) as well to the civilian workforce. That's one of my proudest moments as an American and why I know we will get through it.
Emphasis mine. Link to original Reddit Post. Link to an article about the aforementioned memorandum signed by the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
Don't give up. We will get through this.
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embervoices · 3 days ago
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A very useful thread on Bluesky:
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(There is a lot more. Rather than give you all the images, I've copied the full text below.)
Meredith Rose‬ â€Ș@mrose.ink‬ November 8, 2024
This is not going to be a repeat of 2016-2020. It will be better, it will be worse, but most of all it will be different. Here are things I want every single person to keep in mind as we head into round 2 of a Trump admin.
My credentials: I’m a queer female public interest attorney working on tech policy in DC. I’ve been doing this for a decade--longer than some, not as long as others. I had to navigate three different administrations, as well as Congress, regulatory agencies, courts, and the advocacy world.
FIRST: don’t let despair override your media literacy.
The left has grifters, just like every other movement. If you’re able and compelled to donate, give to orgs with established track records. Avoid giving to individuals, especially anyone who emerges overnight with a one-weird-trick “plan.”
The left is not immune to misinformation, and everyone—EVERYONE—falls for it sometimes, present company included. There is no shame in it. When (not if) it happens to you, you should acknowledge it; delete or retract the post to reduce the spread; and move on.
If a source consistently shares half-truths or outright misinformation, it is not trustworthy, no matter how much “their heart is in the right place.” Unfollow and move on.
Prediction, analysis, and reporting are three fundamentally different things. Learn to identify them for what they are. Reject attempts by amateur “analysts” to predict the future. They know as much as you do.
Real subject matter experts know and acknowledge their limits. They’re also (usually) hesitant to try and predict the future. The best frame their predictions in terms of a range of possible outcomes. Subject matter experts may also disagree with one another! It happens!
SECOND: What we know for sure about how the Trump, how he operates, and how that will impact the next four years.
Trump is a narcissist who avoids reading and doesn’t care about details. He cannot be persuaded by argument or logic; he’s moved mostly by flattery, and will agree with the last person who flattered him. He can and will upend his own administration’s work without warning, often by tweet.
As a result, most policy experts—even those "on his side"—dread him taking an interest in their field. Ask any Republican staffer who worked in Congress during the last administration, and most of them will confirm that their greatest fear was Trump tweeting about anything related to their work.
As such, people who are serious about their work will do everything to make it as invisible and boring-seeming as possible. This is the policy equivalent of defensive camouflage. Lots of “normie” work will continue in silence. (The lion’s share of tech policy ends up in this bucket.)
If you have a niche issue that you care about, now is a great time to donate to orgs that work on it. Lots of money will be funneled to big legacy orgs working on headline issues: ACLU, climate change orgs, etc. Consider sending your donations where they matter most: local, niche, established.
Trump runs his cabinet like the Apprentice. He thrives on chaos and making people compete for his approval. Not only does he not reward collaboration between his subordinates, he actively undermines it.
Moreover, everyone who works with him knows that they’re vulnerable to being thrown under the bus at a moment’s notice, for any reason (or for no reason at all). His cabinet is going to be scorpions in a bottle. They will not be able to coordinate, for good or ill.
One scorpion can still do a lot of horrific damage. But large scale inter-agency coordination is unlikely, particularly after the first few months, by which point he will likely (prediction warning!) have gone through a handful of cabinet secretaries already.
FINALLY: The view from inside civil society heading into 2025.
In 2016, Trump was a largely unknown quantity. The left and establishment right alike wasted a lot of time trying to read tea leaves and make sense of this guy, because he was completely outside the realm of what anyone had dealt with. That’s not happening now.
He did us a favor by broadcasting his plans in advance (aka Project 2025). Civil society has spent the last 2.5 years strategizing around it. We’re not starting off flat-footed.
The Biden admin did a good amount to future-proof its own achievements. Folks can speak to their own areas of expertise, but clean energy and CHIPS and Science Act (investing in domestic semiconductor production) have benefitted from huge sunk investments. That money’s not getting clawed back.
OVERALL TAKE-AWAYS:
It's going to suck. But civil society and the political left have some advantages we didn't have last time. We know him, we know his angles, and we know who he's bringing in--none of which we had in 2016.
We'll get through this. It will be grim, but we'll get through it.
John Cutting‬ â€Ș@johncutting.bsky.social‬
Thanks Meredith. I really valued your analysis over the past few years, and I think this is a reasonable, actionable framework to think about the upcoming storm
Meredith Rose‬ â€Ș@mrose.ink‬
I really cannot overstate how much time was (necessarily) wasted in 2017 trying to figure out this guy and his influences. The fact that he's not only a known quantity, but ran the most over-studied administration in this nation's recent history, makes this a very different game.
John Cutting‬ â€Ș@johncutting.bsky.social‬
I bet we can weaponize his narcissism. Let's say some ghoul starts making progress with a mass deportation effort, if we start calling that ghoul that "shadow president" en masse, Trump would fire him in right away and appoint Hulk Hogan or something
â€ȘMeredith Rose‬ â€Ș@mrose.ink‬
This is exactly why I don't think Musk will last very long. Trump is very clear that he's the only one in the room allowed to have an ego or any kind of brand name.
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hannah-heartstrings · 2 days ago
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"You all sound like Trump supporters four years ago!"
Four years ago, Trump supporters rallied outside government buildings to yell at the workers inside to stop counting ballots because Trump was currently winning in that state.
Meanwhile in a state where he was losing, they yelled to keep counting. The workers never stopped counting, the news just predicted that state would go blue and they took that to mean the electoral college had been decided.
Demanding an investigation, pointing out suspicious happenings, and wanting to make sure every ballot was actually counted does not match that lunacy. I don't have the energy to match that lunacy.
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bitterkarella · 2 days ago
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Midnight Pals: Dark Days Coming
King: hey guys sorry i'm late King: i just could not get up this morning King: feels like I've been sleeping for days King: what did i miss? King: how did the election go? Lovecraft: not too bad King: King: oh no King: oh no oh no oh no
Lovecraft: don't worry steve it won't be so bad Lovecraft: I've heard assurances from the new regime that they only want the trade unionists King: King: King:
Lovecraft: i mean really steve Lovecraft: how bad could it be? [meanwhile] Donald Trump: we're gonna have the biggliest boot stamping on a human face forever Trump: we love the boot stamping on the human face forever, don't we folks? Trump: more and more people are saying they love the boot
Lovecraft: you're overreacting steve Lovecraft: what's trump even going to do? King: well i'm glad you asked King: [unrolls comically long scroll] Lovecraft: oh is this going to be a song
King: well for starters King: decimate reproductive rights King: LGBTQ rights King: labor rights King: civil rights King: accelerate climate change Lovecraft: [sweats] this is making me feel bad steve Lovecraft: i can't wait for trump to outlaw you telling me this stuff!
King: use the military to brutalize americans King: abandon Ukraine King: and as for gaza George Romero: in all honesty steve Romero: that probably won't change much King: oh look! an optimist!
Lovecraft: ok but Lovecraft: has he actually SAID he's going to do any of that? King: yes Lovecraft: oh he was probably just lying Lovecraft: he lies a lot Poe: he does lie a lot
Lovecraft: i think you're overreacting, he's probably not gonna do all the stuff he says he's gonna do King: so you don't believe him? Lovecraft: nope! King: king: then what's his appeal? Lovecraft: well he's just so honest
Lovecraft: a real straight shooter Lovecraft: tells it like it is Lovecraft: says what he means King: King:
King: howard please tell me you didn't vote for trump did you? Lovecraft: [sweats] steve! please! Lovecraft: i'm only a loveable archie bunker style racist Lovecraft: i'm still 100% yang gang King: King: King: i picked a bad day to quit cocaine
King: i really need some cocaine King: edgar you know where i can get some cocaine don't you Poe: steve stay strong Poe: you don't need cocaine King: just one bump King: to get me through the next four years King: i mean few days King: no i mean four years
King: how about a beer? i was an alcoholic too you know King: maybe i'll take that up again King: this is good drinking weather Poe: steve no Poe: dean help me hold him back King: don't try to stop me! Poe: no steve! you've got so much to live for! King: yeah? like what? Poe: well Poe: you've got a loving family King: Joe is pretty great Koontz: and owen! King: King: yeah and owen is alright too i guess
King: yeah he's pretty good King: what the heck, i can say it King: i love owen too! Koontz: and there's naomi too King: whoa wait a second, i have THREE kids?? King: this just keeps getting better!
King: thanks guys i do feel a little better Poe: good, hold onto that Poe: cuz it's going to be a long four years Lovecraft: only four years? i thought we weren't gonna have to vote anymore! Poe: Poe: good drinking weather, huh?
Joyce Carol Oates: huh, i really don't see why the electorate would hate trans people unless they were persuaded by hate speech and fearmongering JK Rowling: well well well look at the fancccy pantsss rich author Rowling: with her out of touch fancccy ideasss about a pluralissstic sssociety! Rowling: with her fancccy german automobile! Oates: this car was made in Guatemala
Rowling: you're clearly too rich to underssstand the feelingsss of the common man Rowling: unlike me, a true daughter of the proletariat Rowling: i know all about the material needsss of the underclassss Rowling: anyway i'm going to insulate my Scottish castle with big bags of money
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foul-z-fowl · 3 days ago
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In the immediate aftermath, I felt very numb. I was thinking of all the things I had planned for the future, the shows I had wanted to watch and the books I had wanted to read and I thought, what's the point?
Who cares if I add this book to my goodreads? What does it matter that I read a million fics for a new fandom? But slowly, my mindset went from 'I need to be worried about this' to 'I need to take care of myself.'
I'm a political science student. I've been following this election SO closely and been worrying and stressing for SO long. I need to take these last few months before the orange is inaugurated to breathe.
And I need to feel joy. Their entire platform is to make people like me, people who are queer, people who are trans, people who have a uterus, people who are studying to be a librarian because they oppose book bans, miserable. And people who aren't like me too. People who aren't white. Immigrants. Teachers. Poor people. Disabled people.
Joy has always been a form of resistance. In the queer community especially (a community I'm part of and thus whose experiences I feel more comfortable speaking for). To be happy is an act of resistance. To watch shows that may seem fluffy and silly and unimportant, like Heartstopper or Red, White, and Royal Blue is an act of resistance. To read books that seem like unattainable fantasies, because their characters are happy, and not crushed by the existential dread that so many of us are facing, like the Prospects or literally anything by F.T. Lukens.
We're here. And we're not going away. And one day, maybe not today, but one day we will be happy again.
Maybe I'll be able to look back at this post in four years and know I got through it, or that it wasn't that bad. Maybe I won't. But either way, joy is more important now than ever. When we are sad, it means they are winning. When we are dying, they are winning. Surviving and creating happiness for yourself is resisting.
Make yourself the pebble in Donald Trump's shoe, make yourself the fly in JD Vance's ear, make yourself the pothole of Samuel Alito's road, by living.
*gripping your shoulders and shaking you* you gotta promise me one thing, if nothing else. you have to promise me to live, do you hear me. and if it's for nothing else but spite, LIVE. donald trump wants you to feel defeated and alone. let's show him and all the americans who voted for him that we will not stay quiet, we will not be devided and we will LIVE. we will survive that 78-year old asshole, we will OUTLIVE him. so please reach out to friends and family, reach out to each other and STAND TOGETHER.
PLEASE, LIVE!
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liberalsarecool · 1 day ago
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From Professor Christopher Robichaud, Senior Lecturer in Ethics and Public Policy, Harvard:
“I'll say this, and then I likely won't be saying much more on here for quite some time, to the relief of some, I'm sure. But my farewell warning is this.
Everyone in the days and weeks ahead will use this loss as an opportunity to seek validation for their own hobby horse complaint. Harris lost because she campaigned with Liz Cheney. Harris lost because she didn't embrace Gaza. Harris lost because she didn't choose Shapiro. Harris lost because she wasn't progressive enough (possibly my favorite one).
Take a good, hard look at the map, my friends. Trump has won the popular vote. Trump ran the table. Explaining that with your hobby horse issue isn't going to cut it, tempting and consoling as it may be. The problem isn't the electoral college. The problem isn't that we didn't have a full primary. The problem isn't Harris. The problem isn't that Dems didn't have the right message. The problem isn't even inflation or the border.
The problem is so much worse than any of those things. Those are all technical problems, with straightforward expertise fixes. If only it were so! No, our problem is not technical. It's very much adaptive. A party that embraced the Big Lie, supported an insurrection, and has been selling conspiracy-addled madness for years, [which] was widely and enthusiastically embraced. Voter turnout was profound! People didn't sit this out.
Simply put, the problem--as some of you have rightly posted--is cultural. America, culturally, has completely abandoned a politics of decency and respect and has embraced instead a politics of resentment, revenge, false nostalgia, and bullying. And if you look at the demographics, you also won't be able to comfort yourself that it's just a white thing, or a working class thing, or an education thing. It's multi-class, multi-gender, multi-educational, and multi-racial. That's what winning the popular vote means. That's what running the table amounts to.
A culture that has descended to this level of debasement is not easily fixed. In fact it may not ever be fixed. The timeline for changing something like this is decades--at best--not two-to-four year election cycles. You can extend that in this case, because with the GOP likely controlling all branches of federal government and the courts, they will ensure that mechanisms are in place to keep them in power long after their popularity has waned. You can count on that.
The GOP evolved into a party of rage, lies, and revenge--and it correctly diagnosed that there was and is a large appetite for that. That's what the country wants. At least enough of the country wants it to ensure broad appeal and widespread electoral success. The old GOP will never return, and the Dems have nothing to say to American culture at the moment. Nothing. They've been speaking to a country that's gone, like dust in the wind.
And that's my final thought, which my posts last night alluded to. The America I knew and loved is gone. This new America--nah, I won't even bother. I will say that cultural change is less likely to occur in politics or in the academy. You're not going to get people to see how vulgar they've become through a clever argument or a nice campaign speech, that's for sure.
This would be time for the arts, broadly understood, to step in. The arts can change hearts and minds. Too bad the arts have been systematically dismantled in education in this country, and on the other end, the tech industry's assault on the arts through AI is sure to hollow out any good-faith efforts that might emerge.
And for the rest of the world, America's rightward lurch is, I'm afraid, bad news for you too. I know you know this. Because it's not isolated, is it? It's just at the moment the most prominent example of a burgeoning trend. And this will embolden others in other countries, to be sure. We need not speculate what happens when countries become mired in lies, embrace resentment, and savor bullying. We know exactly what happens. Bloody conflict and global destabilization.
The first quarter of the 21st century will, therefore, in hindsight, be viewed as the seed-planting stage for the absolute shit show that's about to unfold globally over the next two and a half decades. Count on it.
Adopt whatever coping and endurance strategies you have available. You're going to need it.
I think that's all I've left to say.”
The least evolved. The most paternalistic.
The bully. The liar. The most resentful.
This is the reality we are in. FOX and Republicans have been repeating the script for decades.
The Dark Ages are conservative aspirations.
The abdication of values/principles is complete.
'Good faith' no longer exists on the Right. The more reprehensible the action/person, the bigger the addiction. Trump proves this.
Anti-paternalism, anti-fascism and anti-bullying are my paths forward. Join me.
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werevampiwolf · 3 days ago
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If you're blind in one eye for long enough, your sense is where your eye drifts to the middle over time. So your perception of where things are is off by a few inches, even though you've been dealing with this whole half-blind for a while now.
You also start adapting in little ways. I started wearing my watch on the "wrong" hand because I kept hitting it on things. I also tend to hold things like my phone more towards the eye I can see out of, instead of in the middle, and I set up my TV and my computer monitor to be more on my good side. If you still have some limited vision in the bad eye, you might also close that eye if you're trying to concentrate, so you're not having to filter out the extra information. I do that a lot because my eyeball works just fine, my brain just doesn't understand the information, so it's like those AI images that are designed to show you what having a stroke feels like, where everything seems familiar but you can't even begin to guess what things are.
Also, unless the person has damage to the eye or wears an eyepatch, people might not even always notice. Even if they have a glass eye, people still might not notice. I don't have a glass eye, but I went blind in one eye due to brain damage for about four years, and then after that, I became able to at least see light and movement again. And I've worked at my current job for a decade, and I had perfect vision when I was hired. To this day, I think maybe a couple managers know because I've straight up told them, but it doesn't seem like anyone else has noticed.
Side note, if you had strabismus (eyes that don't point the same direction) as a kid and were trained out of it, it might come back if you go blind in one eye. You can also acquire strabismus even though you didn't have it before, especially if your vision loss is due to brain damage. But strabismus DOES affect how people treat you. It took me years to figure out why people suddenly started treating me like I was five (or like they thought I was stupid) a while after I lost vision in one eye. I eventually figured out that it didn't happen when I was wearing mirrored or dark sunglasses because they couldn't see my eyes. But it's because, due to stigma and portrayal in the media, most people assume that anyone whose eyes don't point in the same direction must be intellectually disabled (or at least stupid and uneducated). But not everyone with one has both, and you shouldn't be a dick to people with intellectual disabilities either.
And for fun, you can get eyepatches with designs now. You can even coordinate them to your outfit if you want. I have a couple of plain black ones, but I haven't worked up the courage to wear them in public yet. You can also get custom glass eyes if you have an empty socket. I've seen one guy online who made a flashlight eye.
writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.
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braaan · 1 day ago
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Sunday Best (w/ Eunseo)
male reader & wjsn eunseo
fluff & smut, 3k words
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As far as you’ve rationalized, it doesn’t make any sense.
For starters, you and Eunseo have been together since high school, and this is far from the first time she’s been in your apartment.
The first time, hours after a mutual friend’s birthday party gets cut short, Eunseo’s throwing up in your bathroom. It’s a tale as old as time: the Friday night of a long weekend, way too many groupchats, high school bravado kneecapped by Fireball shooters — it’s messy, and senior year. You get you’re her boyfriend’d into nursing her back to life, and one grueling night shift later, she’s under your covers while you’re trying to get comfy on your small-for-sitting futon. And despite how early she’s up the next morning, between the still warm almond croissants on your countertop, the deep hug she pulls you into before you can drum up anything sarcastic, and how much better your basketball shorts sit on her waistline — drawstring double-knotted, waistband rolled all the way up — it’s hard to stay mad.
Another time, you’re coming back from date night, and before the front door even closes in on you two, she’s walking your apartment’s perimeter, pulling out supplies from a backpack. You’re trailing her, trying to simultaneously close the distance she covers and read the tiny labels on household items she leaves in her wake. Before long, there’s not a countertop unmarked by these tiny rubber characters (“They’re called SMISKIs”), all of your spaces start to predominantly smell like daisies, and you don’t recognize half of the brands in your bathroom. Any other time: you’d say something. Any other time: you’d stand up for yourself; puff your chest into the slight height difference. Any other time Eunseo wasn’t reappearing from your bedroom in a tiny cotton shirt and all eight inches of these plaid blue pajama shorts: yeah, you’d draw your boundaries.
Sometime after that, in the lull of quiet comfort and work from home, her legs are in your lap as you both bat away questions on individual video calls. Difference couldn’t be any more stark. Twelve minutes into your morning meeting, in between unmutes of your desktop microphone, you’ve tallied up a total of twenty words, and have entertained a serious-and-three-quarters imagination about where else you could call into this — your camera’s off, after all. Eunseo’s your in-office foil: her chocolate hair freshly straightened, her baby blue button up perm pressed, her small talk status quo. Eunseo’s full of shit. Just off camera, unobvious in her digital four walls, she hasn’t changed out of your heather gray boxer shorts she wore to bed.
So, really:
It’s not the first time you’ve seen Eunseo wake up in a pair of shorts.
It doesn’t make any rational sense how much it still gets a reaction out of you.
--
Granted, it’s an unreal view.
The sun hurries through your curtains to pool around her feet, daybreak serving as stepping stones as she pads to your en suite. Golden yellow melts into her milk chocolate hair, spinning already light browns into shades of almond and sand between sunlit highlights. A breeze picks up through the fabric, and the light breaks. One moment she’s haloed, cast in sunlight, all of her curves etched in radiance; the next, momentarily obscured, a dream in soft-focus, half-glimpsed and inviting whole-yearning. From where you’re propped up on your elbows, she flickers in and out of reality and reverie, real-deal and daydream. She’s a light show in slow motion, superposition between technicolor and transfiguration; sunkiss and shadow in perfect ballet, catching an everyday angel between the light that loves her and pockets of beautiful mystery that make her all the more alluring.
All of this to Eunseo: her morning routine.
She walks without hesitation. Even when it’s mundane, there’s a tangible confidence in the way she sprays sea salt into her hair, carding her fingers through her roots.
It’s the one thing that threw you for a loop about her, really: for a long time, you were waiting for the character to drop. Blended between candor and how you’d be able to read anything just off of her facial expression, Eunseo was headstrong, and always heart first. Early into your relationship, it was unnerving. Younger yous bounced between bouts of ‘wow, that’s frank’ and ‘what are you compensating for?’. You got where you were in life — to you: where most people didn’t — by never playing all your cards, and here Eunseo was all the same, hand face up on the table.
Though it doesn’t take you too long to eventually admit that forward is sexy.
It’s in the way she asks for what she wants, unbothered by the answer, discarding pretense and step-by-step; it’s in the way she’ll take the lead without warning, showing up after work at your lobby to take you on a night she’s pre-planned; it’s in the way that — because on the weekend, you wake up on her time — she’s six feet away from you, tip-toed, peeling at the curtains: all the way stretched out.
And outlined in daylight, you don’t miss a detail.
For starters, her shirt’s way too small. It’s this light material: cheap white cotton that curls in on itself at the hem. And as she reaches out at the Roman shades, revealing more and more skin, you can explore all the small of her back, run imaginary hands along where her shirt stops, down the soft line where skin kisses spine. You can trace your thumbs at the space just above her hips, skirting shapes at her waistline, dancing just above the navy soccer shorts Eunseo wore in tenth grade, faded far from school colors, and tiny as hell.
You could sit there for hours — you’d find new angles to obsess over.
You get half a beat.
“It’s rude to stare, you know?”
And in one motion, Eunseo closes the distance between where she was and where you sit, quickly cross-legged on your comforter.
“And even ruder to have fun,” she starts, patting the blankets grouped around your waist, “all by yourself.”
“Fuck off,” you spit, batting away at her forearm. The blood runs to your cheeks, and your ears are hot. “You might as well be wearing nothing — what am I supposed to do?”
Looking at you through her fringes, the edges of her lips pulling into the start of a smile, she doesn’t need any words — it’s a brutally honest admission.
“You’re saying,” she whispers, “it’s these you like?” Both of your eyes flick to where her hands find the trim of her shorts, tracing the stitching at her thigh, following a runaway stripe with a fingernail — matte white, all insidious, and teasingly slow.
“Eunseo,” you try again flatly. “Fuck,” and there’s a pause here, implicit now anything but, “off.â€ïżœïżœ
Which would be half convincing if you could take your eyes off of her legs.
You’re tracing her thigh in your head, filling the toned crease with your gaze, painting Eunseo’s legs with attention.
She leans into you, and makes it hard to think. Your thoughts are cloudy; in the moment. Nothing becomes more top of mind than the smell of daisies.
There’s a half beat.
Then a whisper against your lips: “Tell me what you like.”
Forward is so fucking sexy.
Kissing Eunseo is like fire: hot, and all at once. She’s running her hands under your shirt, snaking her legs under your stomach; she’s whimpering against your bottom lip, redirecting your hands onto her chest; she’s running her tongue against your teeth, wedging herself square in all of your focus — you’re trying to keep up.
You’re kneading at her chest through cotton, creating new creases, feeling the bud of her nipple get hard in your hands.
You’re tugging at her t-shirt, stretching fabric out of form.
You’re molding Aphrodite — palming, gripping, shaping. Sculpting divinity on earth called for hours of sanctification, and you were here to worship.
Eunseo’s like putty to it all — so sensitive, and pliant at your fingertips. She’s moaning at your mouth, then whispering praises. Hushed against your lips: more, more, more, more, more.
You blink life back into your eyes, and magnetically, inherent like gravity, they fall onto hers. Filled with the night sky — wine-dark, galaxy-wide, abyssal, fully oblivion — even now: hooded, sultry, and all shades of dangerous, they felt inevitable, like they were where yours belonged. They beckoned — like they were written in all of your universes, like all the right roads led back to them.
And it’s like Eunseo reads your mind, because all of a sudden: she’s scarlet, a very red blush dancing across her cheeks.
“Okay, pretty boy,” she starts, catching her breath. Then, gathering her hair into a ponytail: “I’m going to blow your mind.”
And without hesitation, because you’re still stuck in ten seconds ago: “You look so cute.”
And because now she has to: “I’m already going to put you in my mouth, you don’t have to flatter me anymore.”
--
Eunseo’s flipped over, her cunt inches from your lips, drawing lines along your length with her tongue. And you’d return the favor quicker, if not for how mesmerizingly methodical she was. You’re catching glimpses of bits and pieces in the negative space between your bodies. Through her t-shirt: a flash of the flat of her tongue as she reaches the tip of your cockhead, her white nails replacing her mouth around your shaft at the top of her dips, her pretty pink pout — how they all disappear as she takes your cock down her throat. She knows all your soft spots — what you like; where you like it — and always gave you what you loved.
It feels like it all makes sense -
Your hips bucking into her mouth on her downbeats, the saccharine song she starts humming mid-bob, the precum-stained kisses she’s leaving along your length in legato, the half-notes they send across your nervous system -
- all of you feels like it rhythmically belongs together.
“Eunseo,” you manage to grit out, and you feel her smirk against your cock.
You can narrate it in your head. Hm? she’s goading, minxy moxie maxed out. This is all it takes to make you cum? There’s a half-choke — a rough buck of your hips. Fingers curl around your shaft — the hum she has in the back of her throat picks up. A little bit of your cock in my mouth? You’re like a tuning fork to it all. You’re dizzy.
And you’d probably die then and there, if not for the last resort of your tongue on Eunseo’s cunt.
It’s one of the only things that levels her, really.
All the build up is cut in half, tempo slowed down to a grind as you swipe long, breathy flicks of your tongue on Eunseo’s pretty pussy. You’re pacing yourself against a water droplet–rhythm in your head. Arms hooked around her thighs, thumbs tracing circles counterclockwise on her skin -
Down.
Build.
Up.
Down.
Swell.
Up.
It’s unholy the noise she makes next.
Too adorable to just leave hanging.
“Look at you, Eunseo,” you taunt, where the start of a stanza would go, and then drop back into cadence — no air for her to respond — tongue back on her slit. 
And against against your mouth, it’s almost like all of the candor is causal — all the forwardness just carefully-crafted camouflage to get you on her cunt — because reduced down to a mewling mess, white-knuckle around your bedsheets, spine arching to get even closer to the flat of your tongue, there is no back talk. Eunseo was yours, her cunt was all yours, and she was so willing to follow.
Doubling your efforts on her heat, lapping against her little pussy, tracing a thumb around her clit -
“Baby,” she whines.
- Eunseo knows she’s coming undone.
And in this full-on, two-part second that you’re completely lucid to -
- she does.
At first, it’s like time’s frozen. You can feel her tense up under your breath, cheat one last gulp of air, tighten her thighs against your forearms.
Then, everything’s in fast forward. Eunseo unravels. She’s scrambling on polyester, looking for a hold, any grip to support her through how hard she’s cumming on your tongue. The words caught in her throat catch up to her, and all the way through her high, she’s conjoining cuss words, peaking into falsetto as you line kisses along her cunt. Son Eunseo melts against you, onto you, unwound and fully fucked.
But never enough to return the favor.
Gracefully sensual, she straddles you, catching herself on your chest, sitting square on your hips, parking up against your length — you’re caught off guard by the sharks.
Plastered against Eunseo’s shirt: an elementary guide to enough shark species to line anyone’s trivia back pocket — Whale, Great White, Mako, Tiger, Basking -
And because now she has to: “My eyes are up here, perv.”
And without hesitation, because this time that’s genuinely low: “Oh, fuck you.”
And not a beat after that, right against your lips, and riding further up your cock: “You only wish.”
Eunseo’s mouth is on yours, and then so’s her tongue. And as she’s exploring your chest with her palms, thumbing at your nipples, you can only smile. You don’t know why you doubted yourself: with Eunseo, there’s no way anything’s a character.
There’s a beat that you both take, and in the next, there’s a shirt over your face.
You’re blinded, covered in SHEIN sheer, and — instincts taking over — you reach your hands out to grab at anything.
You find Eunseo’s waist as she takes you in her pussy.
It’s hot, it’s tight, it’s needy. She’s getting you both back on beat, picking up the pace, up-and-down on your cock, side-to-side on your hips — you’re trying to keep up.
Your grip tightens, and it’s downright unholy: your thumbs touch at her belly button.
She’s so small, so tight, so in your hands, and so fucked, so fucked, so fucked -
“Cum in me,” Eunseo exhales, then suffixes: “in me, in me, in me.”
Your head goes into overdrive — it’s a time bomb: pulsing, racing, tensing; it’s a million miles a second, and so fucking dangerous. You’re gritting your teeth, crushing her waist in your grip -
And because now you have to, and in lossless lucidity: “Eunseo, fuck off.”
She’s so fucked.
And you know in the moment that follows -
How quickly she finds her place under you, picking up where her fingers were last on your cock — kissing, twisting, sucking, her matte white fingernails hypnotic up and down your shaft -
How guttural the moan you let out feels, like it comes from your tailbone -
How hushed the holy shit is on your lips as Eunseo swallows load after milky load -
- how fucked you are, too.
(You always will be.)
--
There’s a little song and dance you play after Eunseo pops back out of the bathroom.
Again: it’s not either of your first times with each other, but like routine — still and forever — you’re falling into characters you know and love.
Eunseo’s laying it on thick, walking like a textbook taught her how to: drummed-up and exaggerated, heel-toe, heel-toe. Hands folded behind her back, she’s in this half-bend, lips pursed, eyes wandering: suddenly fascinated in the brushwork on your walls or how light catches random trinkets, bending over to the left, the right, and just under to make sure their shadows are still there. It’s all but complete, just missing a laid back whistle; it’s all comically stupid, just always the most adorable thing.
Of course — and only after two full minutes of the charade, drawn out and profusely slow-burned; only after you’ve rolled your eyes so hard they might stick, tension just under boiling point — her little exploration leads her to your bed.
And with that kind of setup: anything she said would’ve landed.
So “... you don’t want to put a kid in me 
” absolutely does.
Her head’s in your lap now, face cracked in this darling half-giggle.
Outwitting Eunseo is a losing game. You never win. Not against the air that lingers around her, peppered sweet and spicy, intoxicating even when you were both sober. Not against her expert balance of prickly and precious, cutesy-cocky carefully-crafted. Not against the crescents in her eyes when you’re this deep into a bit. You don’t really have to.
She kisses you, and it tastes like the promise of time: that you’ll always have more.
It’s pre-teen sweet, spiked with hands brushing soft spots: it’s goofy, it’s whole, and you’re both giggling — trading tender breaths, sharing secrets in the exhales, melting smiles into each others’.
Here — in between the playful banter, nose-to-nose with Son Eunseo — you’re complete.
“Want a coffee?”
(And it’s probably the only thing you’ve done once and only once. You should make the coffee.)
“I’ll make us two.”
--
:')
feel like everything's been fast paced recently, so hope not cringe to say that this has been a serious refuge for me. domestic... interplay (?) is so fun to explore, and i could probably tease out established relationship footsies switchy blurry lines forever — hope you enjoyed!
thank you @majorblinks for the beta (my twin flame and no one is ever going to do it like us), @chunksworld for giving me the push to write eunseo (guys girl enjoyers!), and @passingnotions for everything in between (u next.)
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beloveds-embrace · 20 hours ago
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I’m not sure if you’re taking anymore requests but can you do poly141 who finds a small fairy reader? Mystical reader so little she fits in their hands?
Tiny baby reader
 yes. Fair warning i wrote this while sleepy and tired and i completely forgot to add in when reader learns their name 😭 sorry for any more mistakes!
The forest was unusually quiet, blanketed in mist that made every breath feel cool and crisp. It was the kind of morning that seemed unremarkable, easy to forget. They walked carefully along the narrow path, hunting gear packed away in favor of simple jackets and quiet conversation. Retirement had given them, once a formidable task force, the luxury of slow days, but old habits died hard; their senses remained keen, always searching for any change in the air.
And that’s when they saw it- a flicker of light, faint and trembling, deep within a thicket. It could have been a trick of the morning sun, but they hadn’t survived as long as they have by chalking up everything strange, unusual think to happenstance.
“Careful.” John murmured, voice low and commanding. They nodded, pushing through the brush with quiet purpose and carefulness, until the glimmer came into focus.
There, tangled in a web of thin brambles, was something neither war nor time had ever prepared them for- a tiny, shimmering, actually-real fairy, no larger than the palm of a hand. Your wings, gossamer-thin and glowing with iridescent light, fluttered weakly as you tried to free you. You turned your head, eyes wide and filled with a mix of fear and exhaustion, and they all felt their breath catch.
Soap was the first to recover. “Bloody hell,” he whispered, his voice tinged with awe. He took a cautious step forward, hands up as if approaching a skittish animal. He couldn’t believe his eyes, but you are real. You are actually real. “Hey now, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt ya.”
The fairy- you -watched him warily, but there was a flicker of hope in your gaze. Gaz crouched next to Johnny, brows furrowed. “We need to get her out of there,” he said, his voice gentle. “Quickly.”
Johnny nodded, already reaching into his pack for a small knife. “Don’t move, all right, wee one? We’ll get you free.” He kept his movements slow, mindful of how fragile you seemed. With careful precision, he began cutting away the brambles, each snip bringing a little more freedom and a little more light. Price and Ghost kept watch over them, cautious still but not really that worried considering your size.
When you were finally free, you collapsed, too weak to stay upright. Gaz caught you, cradling you in his hands as if you were made of glass. “You’re safe now.” he murmured, his eyes soft. He could feel the faint warmth of your glow against his skin, like holding a tiny ember. More proof that you are real, even if it seemed so impossible.
Your wings twitched, and with a shaky breath, you looked up at them. “Thank
you,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a sweet chime in the wind.
“You are talking,” Soap breathed, a childlike wonder lighting up his face. “You talk.” It makes you giggle just a little, if you are honest with yourself. Your wings attempt to flutter behind you, but they are not Quite Right. You shift on your feet, visibly unsure now.
John stepped closer, his gaze warm but measured, and bent down so his face was at the same level as your body. “Easy there. You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” His thumb, calloused from years of wielding weapons, gently brushed a stray leaf from your hair. He had to be extra careful, extra slow so as to not alarm you, and then holds his hand out for you to step into. “Your wings aren’t moving right, are they? We can help you.”
You shake your head slowly to his first question, looking away from his eyes. You’d never really approached humans before
 always too big and scary, but there four were nice, at the very least. You and your unique magic couldn’t sense anything particularly bad from them, so that’s why you hadn’t immediately tried to fly far, far away from them.
You lean into John’s touch, sitting down and holding onto his thumbs for stability. You do know out of all of them, you still haven’t heard the masked one speak, just felt him bore his gaze at you, but you don’t care. “Where
 are we going?” You ask instead.
“Near our cottage,” Price said, voice low and soothing. “Not far. We can bring you there, get you warm and fed, and you can let your wings rest there.”
You nodded slowly, exhaustion overcoming you. John held you close while they comtinued walking back. As you rested, your glow dimmed to a soft warmth that seeped into his palms and made them glow, a quiet reminder of your presence. The journey back was filled with silent glances- each man marveling at the fact that something so otherworldly, so impossibly delicate, had chosen to trust them.
When they arrived at the cottage, Soap carefully laid out a small, soft cloth on the table, creating a makeshift bed for you to rest one while Kyle thought you’d enjoy having a different option, so he placed a leafy pot nearby for yoh. Ghost silently set a thimble of water nearby while John stirred a pot on the stove, filling the room with a comforting aroma. You drank slowly, savoring every drop and feeling strength return to your body, to your wings.
“Better?” Ghost asked you at last, voice low, his eyes never leaving you. You nodded, a grateful smile breaking across your face despite the hints of fear caused by his mask. You didn’t see it, but there was a collective untensing of shoulders, worry lessening.
Over the next few hours, you spoke in halting words, telling them of the storm that had torn through the woods and separated you from your kin. They listened with full attention, not interrupting you. Kyle even offered you a finger to lean on when you shivered a little, reminded of the pain while you recounted your tale. But after that, you continue your rest, now the one asking them questions and learning who they are.
By evening, you were still nestled in the soft, makeshift bed near the fire, your wings catching the flickering light. As you drifted into a peaceful sleep, your light grew stronger- very content in your warm spot, and feeling safe and secure from wild animals and the weather outside. Occasionally, you feel different hands and fingers brush across your head, and each time it makes you let out a happy squeak, uncaring for the conversations happening in the background.
You wonder if they’d let you stay with them

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novvabee · 2 days ago
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Hi,
Could you do a romantic poly!marauder (without peter) x reader where they are in a established relationship and maybe James (I just imagine it coming for him) having baby fever and dropping hint at it to make the others want to a start a family ?
omg! I totally can see James wanting a family like straight away, but the others are kind of hesitant. Hope this fits your vision ❀
Oh baby, baby fever
summary: james wants a baby
cw: suggestive? talk about starting a family
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James had been more needy and cuddly in the past couple of days. He was holding you closer, tighter to his chest in the mornings, being incredibly sweet. And this is James we’re talking about. He normally treated you like royalty, but he had somehow stepped it up after spending the day at work with you.
You had been a nanny for a family for about a year now, and you were loving the job. The family was so kind and generous, and they often felt like an extension of your own family. The children were no different. They were the sweetest kids with the most patience and understanding that you had ever seen in a child. There was a boy, Liam, who was 5, and a little girl named Ruth, 4. They were the reason you loved your job, getting to see them and care for them was the best job you could have ever asked for.
Two days ago, you had planned a trip to the zoo for the two, and were so excited to spend the whole day with them. James, who had the day off, offered to come with. He argued that it would be better to have two adult sets of eyes to watch over the children, safer, and you agreed. You didn’t know how the children would take it at first, him being a stranger, but just like everyone else seemed to, they took to him instantly.
Liam was so happy to have a boy to rough around with (though james was about 3 and a half feet teller and much, much stronger) and Ruth seemed to develop a bit of a crush, having James tie her pink sparkly shoes, hold his hand to cross the street, listen to her jokes and animal facts she had learned, and hold her favorite stuffed animal when she got tired of holding it herself.
James never once complained. He played and laughed with the kids, he carried both, one in each arm, whenever they asked, he bought them each a toy from the gift shop with his own money when they asked. He was doing amazing.
There was a different side to James that you saw. You were used to the kindness and warmth of him, but this was different. He was so gentle with them, it came so easy to him. You noted the moments he would get down to their level to hear them properly, to make sure they felt heard even though they were mostly talking nonsense or silly kid things. He lifted them up to see the animals without them having to ask, he just knew they wouldn’t be about to see over the fence. He made sure they had water and snacks whenever they wanted them.
It took a lot of pressure and stress off of you, put some ideas into your head
 you thought that he would make a great dad.
And it seems, James had the same thoughts. The next day he dropped his first hint. All four of you and your boys were lounging about on the couch and watching movies. The day was quite glum out and you all wanted to curl up and use each other for warmth. You were curled into Remus’s side, James laying on you, his head on your chest and body between your legs, Sirius’s head in Remus’s lap. You were a big puddle of happiness. While watching a particularly boring part of the movie, James began running his hands along your sides, under your shirt. You didn’t mind, his hands were always so warm and soft. It gave you goosebumps in the best way. He moved his hands from your sides to your stomach, right under your belly button. He was dragging his fingers along your bare skin before looking at your stomach and kissing it. He laid his head back down and watched the move like nothing, continuing to rub your sides, but you knew what he was after. You knew what he was thinking and why. 
The next hint was dropped while you were all in the kitchen. Remus finishing cooking dinner for you, and the three of you waiting patiently at the table. You had somehow stumbled into the conversation of which teachers you had crushes on when you were younger. 
“Oh come on, Minnie had that authoritative thing going for her.” Sirius confidently announced over the noise of the kitchen.
“McGonagall? Sirius, what is wrong with you?” Remus looked over from the stove, baffled. You giggled and went to stick up for Sirius.
“I don't know,” you joked “She had sort of a milf vibe don't you think?”
The boys all laughed. James replied with a smirk from across the table“You’d know all about that Y/N, wouldn’t you?”
You tilted your head at him and furrowed your brows but chuckled “What do you mean Jamesie?”
“I just mean,” he starts, Remus serving you and Sirius both plates, “It takes one to know one.”
You all started laughing heartily at his comment.
“James mate, I think she’s lacking the main component for that.” Sirius teased.
“What do you mean?” James asked.
“She's not a mother.” 
“She could be,” James said slyly, a smirk cutting across his face.
“Woah woah” Remus said at the same time Sirius laughed a “What are you planning Potter?” you just laughed, you knew exactly what he was getting at. You were letting him have his fun before the seriousness sets in, before that very real, very important discussion happens. 
The next hint was dropped during game night. You had all decided to play a few games like Overcooked and Mario Party. It was quite a fun night full of swearing and playful anger. It was a good outlet to yell at each other without it being serious or mean in any way. A great way to let out all of your competitive energy. You were playing a round of Mario Party and losing, bad. Every mini game the boys seemed to team up on you. “Fuck me!” you let out.
James took this as his sign to slide in behind you and wrap his arms around you “You know that can be arranged, love.” he drawled, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. 
Remus and Sirius shared a look. “What’s gotten into him?” Sirius asked.
“He wants to have a baby.” you explained. You weren’t sure how the other boys hadn’t picked up on it. It wasn’t exactly something that  you had all talked about yet, you just liked being together, the four of you, having fun and sharing a life with each other. You weren't sure about
 a baby. 
The whole room turned attention to James, who seemed to have turned shy. “I just-,” he started, “I think that
 Y/N would make a wonderful mother, and I think I would be a pretty good dad? And I love children, I want one. I’m not saying, I mean, I-I don’t know
” He finished, unconfident and a little deterred.
You sighed, sitting up and readjusting to sit in his lap, facing him. “Jamie baby,” You said, taking his face in your hands, “look, you would be an amazing dad, the best dad in the world. But honey, I don’t think we are all ready for that right now.” you looked over to Sirius and Remus for agreement, they nodded and encouraged you to keep going. “James, we’re still really young. And I know you had a lot of fun with the kids I nanny, but that is different. Those are someone else's kids. Kids that we can have fun with and do fun things with them and then send them on their way back home where they scream and cry and throw tantrums. They aren’t always so perfect. And you’ve never had to change their diapers or deal with them when they're sick and when they are inconsolable. It was fun, but there is a whole other side to parenting, a hard and serious one.” Sirius opened his mouth to make a comment at that but Remus nudged him in the ribs and shook his head. “So baby, I am not saying no. But I am saying not right now. Is that understandable?” you asked.
James looked at you and nodded, you could tell he knew it wasn't the right time, but deep down that is something he wants. You kissed his cheek to try and cheer him up a bit, you know he would need a little bit to be sad, but that he would inevitably come around.
Remus, noticing that James was still upset, came up with a proposition. “How about we work our way up? We start small and then see where we are after. What if we get a cat or a dog?” He suggests.
Sirius squinted his eyes and said “How about a plant?”
James chuckled, the sound making your heart feel less heavy. “I would like a cat
”
“Damnit” Sirius said under his breath.
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arzten-osmolarity · 3 days ago
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OK looking back Mitt Romney really wasn't that bad. I still would have voted for Obama (had I been old enough in 2012) but this and the whole "binders full of women" were such silly non-incidents. Four years later we got the walking disaster that is Trump. It's like we manifested him.
I've been on Tumblr for 4 presidential elections now and nothing tops 2012 when this whole site thought mitt romney was going to ban tampons
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caitified · 2 days ago
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imagine caitlin and reader are dating but reader becomes pregnant so caitlin has to hide it from the public and her teammates
hidden
caitlin clark x reader
warnings:ivf, pregnancy kind of added stuff to this hope that’s okay
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you and caitlin met in college, back when she was just starting to make a name for herself on the court. you were drawn to her right away—not just her talent, which was undeniable, but the way she seemed to light up every room she walked into. back then, she was this whirlwind of energy and determination, a bit rough around the edges but with a heart so big you couldn’t help but fall for her. it started as friendship, with late-night study sessions, endless coffee runs, and cheering her on at every game, but before long, it turned into something much deeper.
over time, you two became inseparable, and when she asked you to marry her just before her first WNBA season, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind. the wedding was intimate, just close friends and family gathered to celebrate the love you’d built. you were overjoyed, and you could tell caitlin was too, her usual confident self was almost shy as she slipped the ring onto your finger. after years of building your lives together, finally calling her your wife felt surreal and perfect.
with caitlin’s career taking off, you both tried to keep things private, cherishing the little moments you could steal away from the public eye. being married to someone in the spotlight isn’t always easy, and you found yourself fielding questions, navigating rumors, and learning to protect the sacred parts of your life together. while everyone knew you as “caitlin clark’s wife,” you were determined to hold on to as much of your privacy as you could. you were her biggest supporter, always cheering her on from the stands, but beyond that, you stayed in the background, happy just to be by her side.
when you both started talking about starting a family, it was another big step. caitlin was ecstatic, talking nonstop about what it would be like to raise a little one together, already imagining teaching them to shoot hoops in the driveway. IVF wasn’t an easy road, and there were times when the journey tested both of you. caitlin would stay up late, holding your hand, whispering words of encouragement, even after long days of practice and games. when the news finally came—when the test turned positive—neither of you could believe it. you sat there in the quiet of your home, holding each other, realizing that your dream of a family was actually coming true.
you wanted to keep it private, though, at least for a little while. this was something special, something just for the two of you, away from the cameras and the questions. every time you went out, you found yourself slipping into baggier clothes, avoiding certain angles, anything to keep the world from guessing. caitlin would grin at your little attempts, her eyes full of affection, and you’d just laugh, knowing that for now, it was your secret.
a couple of months later, you and caitlin head back to iowa for a special occasion—she’s finally receiving her final four ring, a long-awaited moment to celebrate with her old teammates and friends. there’s this buzz in the air as you both step onto campus, flooded with memories of those early days together. gabbie, kate, and jada are all there, ready to relive the glory days. it feels like a homecoming, filled with laughter and nostalgia, and though you’re still a bit tired from the trip, you’re determined to keep the news to yourselves.
at the ceremony, she catches your eye in the crowd, flashing you a small, private smile that makes your heart flip, and in that moment, you’re both transported back to those early days. afterwards, you’re all gathered in a small cafe on campus, reminiscing over coffee, trying to soak in every minute with the people who’ve been there through it all.
but as the hours pass, hiding your pregnancy starts feeling harder. you find yourself resting a hand on your stomach absentmindedly, sitting down more often, and you’re sure gabbie has noticed you stifling a yawn more than once. eventually, she leans over, watching you with this knowing look.
“hey
 are you okay?” she asks, voice soft with concern. “you seem a little
 off?”
you feel caitlin tense beside you, her hand gently squeezing yours under the table. you flash gabbie a reassuring smile, brushing it off. “just tired from the travel, that’s all,” you say, hoping it’s convincing enough.
but then kate chimes in, eyes narrowing as she looks between you and caitlin. “wait a second
 you two aren’t
 hiding something, are you?”
you exchange a glance with caitlin, but before you can answer, jada lets out a gasp, her hand flying to her mouth. “oh my god, are you pregnant?”
caught off guard, you can’t help but laugh, feeling your cheeks flush. caitlin just sighs, a shy smile creeping onto her face as she squeezes your hand. “yeah
 we’re expecting,” she admits, her voice filled with this quiet, uncontainable joy.
the room erupts in cheers, the girls pulling you both into hugs, congratulating you with an outpouring of love and excitement. it’s overwhelming, but in the best possible way, and as you stand there with caitlin by your side, you realize how lucky you are to have friends who are so genuinely happy for you.
“wow,” gabbie says, grinning. “i can’t wait to see the little basketball prodigy you two are going to raise.”
caitlin laughs, rolling her eyes, but there’s this soft, proud look in her gaze as she wraps her arm around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “we’ll see,” she murmurs, giving you a warm smile. “for now, we’re just glad to have people in on the secret.”
thanks for reading!! she’s too cute with kids. requests are open.
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stargirllanaa · 1 day ago
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Death Grips - R.C
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Dark!Frat!Rafe Cameron x f!reader
Warnings: Dv( physical abuse),NONCON, Mentions of Dv, Cheating, mentions of cheating, abusive relationship, gaslighting, manipulation, frat!rafe, blackmail, emotional abuse, underage drinking, he’s an asshole guys
Summary: inspired by ‘death grips’ by Etta Marcus/ After a messy break up with Rafe Cameron your freshman year of college, he can’t seem to leave you alone. Whether you’re awake or asleep
A/n: hey guys I haven’t wrote in so long but I had this idea in my head for so longgg, hope you enjoy cause this is a series!!<3
Part: I



It had been four months since you broke up with him, yet he still haunted every aspect of your life through your dreams. You were beyond tired of waking every morning with a pounding heart and a bed drenched in cold sweat from memories plaguing your mind. You always thought the most challenging part of a breakup would be the actual breakup, but it wasn't; no matter how hard you tried, you knew you would never forget the heartache Rafe put you through, and you had come to peace with that, what you weren't prepared for was his looming presence in your life even though he wasn't even physically present, that was the hardest part.
“You all packed up?” your mom asked, snapping you out of thought as she peeked through the crack of your door, only her eyes showing.
You had been so lost in thought that you had almost forgotten you were supposed to be finished packing up for school by now.
“Yeah...” you nodded as you quickly bagged up some remaining things that had sat on your bed.
“Well, almost,” you chuckled as your mom entered your room,folding up clothes to help you finish.
“Listen,” she said softly, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. “I know you're really stressed about going back. "
You sighed as she spoke. Part of you felt guilty for the way things went last semester. You always tried not to blame yourself, but you couldn't help but feel like you put yourself in the situation, so it was your fault.
“But this year is going to be better, okay?” You simply nodded in response as she brought you in for a hug. “Freshman years like a trial run.” she giggled warmly.
You had never been in a serious relationship before Rafe. The two of you had started dating at the beginning of your freshman year.bYou met him in your psych class, which you had been failing horribly. It's not like you were stupid. You could easily understand the material if you tried, but you were lazy and didn't feel like it. You had to guess Rafe was failing too, because when your professor partnered the two of you up for your big midterm, which was 30 percent of your grade, you got 72 percent.
Although getting 72 percent wasn't exactly a grade to be proud of, it was enough to pass, and it seemed like a victory at the time. Rafe had this way of making even the most minor victories feel significant, and it was then that you started to see him in a different light. After the project, you both started spending more time together, studying, hanging out, and gradually, what began as a partnership for class grew into something more.
Your relationship with Rafe had always been complicated, to say the least. He was a junior, part of a frat, and you were just a freshman with like two friends, and everyone knew Rafe. So when you started dating it was cool that everyone started to know you.
Rafe was the worst, something you only fully recognized in hindsight. At first, his attentiveness felt like care, and it was easy for you to fall into his traps because you had never been with anyone else. but it quickly morphed into control. He picked who you could hang out with, what you could wear, and even how you spent your free time. You knew you didn’t like that but it was your norm.
Arguments between the two of you were frequent and intense, His yelling at you to “get away from him” turned into full-fledged pushes across the room. What started as him grabbing your wrist a little roughly turned into him using that exact grip to drag you across the cold floor as you kicked your feet, trying to get away. It was a classic case of an abusive relationship. Ignoring the red flags till they hit you in the face. Literally. The breaking point was when you caught him cheating on you mid-fuck.
It was devastating, not just because of the betrayal, but because it forced you to confront the reality of your relationship with Rafe. The breakup that followed was messy and painful, with Rafe oscillating between begging for forgiveness and blaming you for his actions. Not only were you heartbroken, but the stress of your relationship caused you to fail most of your classes, forcing you to have to retake them the whole summer.
So yeah, you were stressed to go back to school, not even stressed; you were terrified; after you and Rafe broke up at the end of last semester, you didn't leave your dorm for anything other than class, so you really didn't have to see him or interact with him. This year, you couldn't do that; the self-isolation would only worsen things and make you more depressed; you wanted to have experiences, go to parties, and hang out with your friends. The only thing was Rafe was a horrible boyfriend, so he had to be an even worse ex. Even though you wished and hoped that the two of you could just ignore each other and stay cordial, you knew Rafe better than that.
-----------
You sat in your dorm, headphones on, blasting music as you focused on finishing your English paper. Looking up, you glanced at your roommate Mia, waving you down and clearly trying her best to get your attention. Slightly giggling at her efforts, you paused your music, sliding the headphones off your ears.
“Oh my god, finally!” she mocked, sighing before sitting on the foot of her bed with a playful smirk.
“I've been trying to get your attention for 20 minutes!” the curly-haired girl exaggerated as she threw her head back.
“Oh, please! I haven't even been working on this for 20 minutes!” you bantered back, throwing your pillows at her.
“Yeah, right, like I believe that. Everybody knows that all you do is work all day.” Mia giggles playfully, throwing the pillow back at you.
She wasn't wrong. You had told yourself that this semester would be different; you would go out, make friends, and party, yet you were still glued to your dorm a month into it. You tried to push yourself; you really did, but the constant dreams about Rafe didn't help you feel better about potentially running into him.
“That's not true..” you awkwardly laugh as you nervously scratch your neck.
“Yes, it is,” the brunette slowly says, looking around as if missing something.
“No, it's-” you try to get out before being cut off.
“Then prove it.” Mia cuts you off, standing off her bed to walk over to you. “Zeta’s throwing tonight, and I don't wanna go alone.”
When Mia mentioned Zeta,Aka Rafes frat, your heart sank, but you tried to stay calm. The last thing you wanted was to end up at a party where he would almost certainly be, but Mia had no idea how bad things had gotten between you. She knew you and Rafe ended on bad terms, but she didn’t know the full extent of what you’d been through.
"Zeta?" you repeated, trying to mask your anxiety. "Why do you want to go there?"
Mia gave you a knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Because Topper's been trying to get with me for weeks now, and he invited me tonight.”
Your stomach churned at the mention of Topper. He and Rafe were close, practically best friends, which meant Rafe would definitely be at the party. The idea of seeing him again, especially in a place that held so many bad memories, made you feel sick. But Mia had no idea how deep your anxiety ran, and to her, this was just about a fun night out and a cute guy.
"Mia, you know Rafe’s going to be there," you said carefully. "I just
 I don’t know if I’m ready for that."
Mia’s face softened, and she shifted, leaning forward. "I know things didn’t end well, but you can’t let him keep you from living your life, right? You deserve to have fun, meet new people, and not let some jerk control how you feel."
You bit your lip, staring at the floor. She was right, in a way. You couldn’t hide forever. But the thought of being in the same room as Rafe, of possibly having to interact with him, made your chest tighten with fear. Mia had no idea just how bad things had been between the two of you. To her, Rafe was just a messy breakup, not a nightmare that still haunted your every step.
"I know, it’s just
" you trailed off, unsure of how to explain the weight of it all without giving too much away.
"Look, if it gets weird or if you feel uncomfortable, we’ll leave. I promise. But maybe this is your chance to show him that you’ve moved on, that he doesn’t have power over you anymore."
Her words hit you, and for a moment, you considered it. Maybe going to the party was a chance to reclaim something, to face Rafe without fear, and show him—and yourself—that he no longer had a hold on you. But a part of you still hesitated, the fear gnawing at your resolve.
"Okay," you said after a long pause, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll go. But if things get too much, we leave, no questions asked."
Mia’s face lit up, and she pulled you into a hug. "Yes! Don’t worry, we’ll have fun. We’ll stick together, and it’ll be fine. I promise.”
You forced a smile, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach as Mia rushed over to her closet to pick out outfits. You hoped she was right, that tonight could be a fresh start, but deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that being so close to Rafe again would stir up things you weren’t ready to confront.
--------------
The bass from the music thudded through the ground as you and Mia walked up to the Zeta house. Even from outside, you could hear the chaotic hum of voices and laughter mixed with the pounding beat of whatever random early 2000s white boy song was blasting through the speakers. Your nerves tightened with every step, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.
Mia seemed unfazed, practically glowing with excitement. She gave you a quick, encouraging smile as she adjusted her skirt. “Okay, we’re just going to have fun, remember? Topper’s probably already inside, and we don’t have to stay long if it gets too crazy.”
You nodded, though your heart was racing faster than you’d like to admit.
The front door was wide open, people streaming in and out like they were at some exclusive club. Mia grabbed your hand, pulling you inside with a grin.
The moment you stepped through the door, the atmosphere swallowed you. The smell of beer and sweat mixed with the sharp scent of alcohol. The dim blue lights illuminated the crowd of bodies packed together. It was overwhelming, and for a second, you considered turning around and leaving before anyone noticed you were there.
You thought you pregamed good, but apparently not good enough. The minute you looked around, you felt too sober to be there. Mia was already scanning the room, probably looking for Topper, as you tried your hardest not to scan the room and end up making any unnecessary eye contact with you-know-who.
“Oh, he's right there,” Mia yells over the loud music, reaching for your hand.
You tried your best to down the alcohol from the water bottle you and Mia had brought, the bitter taste burning your throat as she pulled you toward Topper. You knew the only way you'd make it through the night was if you drunk enough. Topper knew you, and you knew him—and you were almost sure he’d mention your presence to Rafe if he hadn’t already. This whole situation felt like a setup, a trap you’d willingly walked into.
When you finally reached Topper, you stood awkwardly behind Mia as she and Topper made small talk. You tried your hardest not to look at him; even though he wasn't Rafe, he was still a huge reminder of him, but every time you found yourself accidentally looking at him, he was already looking at you. You found it very strange, even looking at Mia a few times to see if she noticed. It sent a shiver down your spine; you already felt anxious about being here, but how he looked at you made it seem like he knew something you didn't.
Not long after Mia had been chatting with Topper, she turned toward you drunkenly with a big, mischievous smirk.
"Hey," she slurred slightly, leaning in close to you as if sharing a secret. “Topper wants to show me his room upstairs. You cool waiting for me here?" Her voice was filled with a mix of giddiness and anticipation.
Your stomach dropped a little, but you forced a smile, trying not to let your anxiety show. The last thing you wanted was to be left alone in a place like this, especially with the looming threat of Rafe showing up at any moment. But Mia was your friend, and she deserved to have fun.
“Yeah, sure,” you said, your voice sounding steadier than you felt. “I’ll just hang out on the couch or something.”
Mia’s grin widened, and she gave you a quick, sloppy hug. “You’re the best! I won’t be long, I swear.”
Before you could respond, she grabbed Topper’s hand and dragged him toward the stairs. You watched them disappear into the crowd, your pulse quickening as you realized you were alone in a house full of people you didn’t want to see.
You looked around, searching for a spot to sit. The couch in the corner seemed the safest option, so you headed that way, trying to ignore the unease creeping up your spine. Sitting down, you took another swig from your water bottle, hoping the alcohol would kick in soon and numb the nerves threatening to take over.
And it did; about 20 minutes later, you felt on top of the world. You had made it off your spot on the couch, made a whole new group of friends for the night, and started dancing like no one was watching, but someone was, and you started to feel it. The party's energy had begun to lift your spirits, and you felt freer than you had in a long time.
But then, in a split second, that sense of freedom evaporated.
It was as if you could sense him before you even saw him. That familiar tension gripped you as your eyes instinctively scanned the room, and there he was—Rafe, leaning casually against the far wall. His eyes were already on you, a predatory gleam in them, and your heart sank. You wanted to leave immediately. You looked down at your phone, immediately texting Mia that the two of you had to go. Your new friends even looked at you, concerned at the change in your demeanor, asking you what was wrong, and in your drunken state, you told them.
“My fucking ex is here, and he's staring at me!” you stressed to the group of girls over the blaring music.
“Girl, that's amazing! This is your chance to make him jealous!” one of the girls slurs with a glowing smile as she takes your hand. her comment earning nods and smiles of agreement from the rest of the group.
“No, you don't get it. He’s like crazy!” you whined as you looked down at your phone, waiting for a response from Mia. “and my roommate hooking up with his best friend.”
Sure, if Rafe was a regular ex, you would see him at a party and maybe be happy for a petty chance of revenge, but he wasn't a regular ex. You didn't even wanna interact with him yet intentionally piss him off, but you obviously couldn't just leave your friend, so you had to just try your best to ignore him, and you tried, but he made it pretty fucking hard.
He wasn’t alone. Surrounded by his friends, Rafe looked every bit the confident, cocky guy you had once fallen for, except now, that same confidence felt menacing. The smile tugging at his lips was more of a smirk that sent a chill down your spine.
He knew you had noticed him.
And as soon as he caught your eye, he kicked his act into high gear.
Rafe started laughing louder, nudging the guys around him like he was the life of the party. Every gesture felt exaggerated, every movement too calculated. He wanted to make sure you saw him and felt his presence as much as possible.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes at that. It was sad that he was acting like this. I mean, how immature was he. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much seeing him affected you, so you turned away, trying to refocus on dancing and getting back into the moment. But it was too late. The room felt smaller and more claustrophobic, and no matter how much you tried to immerse yourself in the music again, you could still feel his eyes on you.
And unable to resist, you glanced back.
Rafe had taken it a step further now. One of the girls nearby had found her way beside him, blonde, tall, and obviously intoxicated. She pressed herself against him, laughing as she draped her arms around his neck. Rafe barely acknowledged her, his attention still fixed on you. It was deliberate.
Your stomach churned.
And then, as if to solidify his little performance, Rafe pulled the girl closer, gripping her waist. The girl giggled, clearly enjoying the attention, oblivious that she was being used as a pawn in Rafe’s sick game.
You tried to look away, but the weight of his gaze held you in place.
Then, without breaking eye contact, he leaned in and kissed her—slow, deliberate, and intense. His hands roamed her body as she melted into the kiss, all while Rafe's piercing eyes remained locked on yours.
It felt like a punch to the gut. The room seemed to spin, and you suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe. He was doing it on purpose. Every touch, every movement, every second of that kiss was for you, to hurt you, to remind you of the control he used to have and still has over you.
And it was working.
“Y/n, are you okay?” Your heavy eye contact with Rafe was broken as you turned around to face Mia with teary eyes. You didn't say anything, but she clearly saw what was upsetting you from a mile away.
“Oh my god, he's fucking disgusting.” she gasped, looking directly at Rafe with disgust painting her face. “Let's go right now.”
On the walk back to your dorm, Mia went on and on about how what he did should confirm the breakup was the right choice and how he just did it to try and make you jealous, and you knew that. You didn't need her to tell you, but that didn't make you feel better. He had caused you enough pain, so much pain, so why was he still going? When would it be enough?
“How was Topper?” you questioned curiously, honestly hoping selfishly that he did something that would make her never wanna see him again.
“Horrible.” she cringed, mock gagging, waiting for your reaction.
Really?” you chuckled, trying not to beam from ear to ear.
“No, the dick was average, but he's hot,” she giggled, looking up as she reminisced on the hook-up. “But why were you so happy?” she full-on laughed, crossing her arms over her chest
--------------
“Have you seen Rafe?” you asked around the party, looking around every corner for signs of your boyfriend.
You were supposed to go back home for the weekend for a doctor's appointment, but your doctor actually canceled the appointment, so you stayed on campus instead. You had tried to call Rafe multiple times to let him know you were still at school, but he hadn't answered. You believed it was because the two of you had gotten into a fight that morning, and Rafe was known to give the silent treatment, so you thought you might as well just find him yourself if he wanted to play that game.
You navigated through the crowds of people, your heart racing as you called out to a few acquaintances, hoping one of them had seen Rafe. He had been so distant lately, and the tension between you from earlier that morning hung like a thick fog.
“Have you seen Rafe?” you asked one of his friends, who shrugged and waved you off, lost in a conversation. You sighed, the knot in your stomach tightening. The last thing you wanted was to spend the night worrying about where he was, especially after you fought.
“Maybe he’s in the back,” another friend suggested, nodding toward a dimly lit hallway. You nodded, grateful for any lead, and made your way in that direction, your pulse quickening with every step.
As you reached the end of the hall, the music faded slightly, replaced by the muffled sound of voices. The door was somewhat cracked. You could hear muffled moaning, grunting, and clapping. You gasped, hand clamping over your mouth hard. You didn't wanna believe it, you couldn't, but there was only one way to know. Hesitating momentarily, you leaned in closer, peeking through the small crack of the door. Your heart sank as you recognized Rafe’s frame as he fucked some blonde bitch from the back, and if seeing what could be his frame didn't confirm it was him, the “fuck Rafe that feels so good.” did.
You felt as if the world around you had come to a standstill. You knew your relationship with Rafe was far from healthy. Anyone could see that, but you never expected him to do it. To betray you in such a hurtful way. Your mind started to race. Had he cheated before? Was it the whole time? Did everyone know but you? How could someone treat you like shit every single day yet be the one to cheat on you? It wasn't fair, and to be honest, you felt embarrassed.
You turned and rushed away from the door, tears welling in your eyes and blurring your vision. You needed to escape this suffocating atmosphere. As you moved back into the main party area, you tried to shake off the weight of what you had just witnessed, but it clung to you like a heavy blanket.
You stumbled into a group of your friends, busy dancing and laughing, oblivious to your turmoil. One of them, noticing your teary face, hugged you. “Hey, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
“I’m fine,” you lied, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. But deep down, you were anything but fine. You felt hollow, betrayed by someone you trusted more than anyone else.
As you moved to the crowd's edge, hoping to catch your breath, you couldn’t shake the image of Rafe with that girl. How could he do this to you?
You grabbed your phone, fingers trembling as you dialed his number, your heart racing at the thought of confronting him. But it went straight to voicemail.
------
“y/n!” You woke up to Mia shaking you awake, your heart beating out of your chest, and your sheets dripping in sweat. “God, are you ok?” she chuckled with a worried undertone.
“Y-yeah... Yeah, I'm fine.” You yawned, looking at your roommate with a mixture of confusion and anxiety. That was the third time you had that dream since the party. You didn't realize how much seeing Rafe kiss that girl really affected you until you went to sleep the next day.
“Well, it's 9:30; breakfast closes in 30 minutes,” Mia informed you, staring at you, waiting for a response or some form of movement to show your getting up. “That means let's go.”
Every time you had a nightmare, it made you lose your appetite the following day, reminding you of how you felt during that time. In fact, it made you lose the urge to do anything, and the nightmares did come more often than not. So when you made your way to the dining hall, you only planned to get a small bowl of cereal and maybe some fruit.
You and Mia sat down next to each other, opting to eat there. You had faced your fear of going to the dining hall multiple times, never seeing Rafe there, and everything went smoothly until it didn't.
“Oh my god, Toppers here.” Mia gasped, eyes sparkling with excitement as she made eye contact with him and waved.
You looked up, confused as to why he was even at the dining hall when you knew his frat had better food than the campus could ever provide, let alone why he was there ten minutes left before it closed, but it clicked when you saw Rafe right behind him with an empty plate in hand. Part of you felt like they were there to antagonize you, but at the same time, you felt that thought was semi-narcassistic because why would they go through all the effort. But it was Rafe, and this was all a game to him; it was fun to him.
As Topper approached, Rafe lingered just a bit behind, his blue eyes scanning the room with that familiar cocky smirk plastered across his face.
“Hey, ladies,” Topper said, his tone light and teasing. He leaned against the table, completely at ease.
“Hey, Top.” Mia chirped, seemingly oblivious to the tension hanging in the air.
Rafe finally stepped forward, his casual demeanor masking the intensity beneath.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked, shooting you a sideways glance.
You hesitated but finally nodded, wanting to keep the peace for Mia’s sake. “Yeah, sure.”
He slid into the seat beside you, and for a moment, the conversation flowed easily. Rafe leaned back, looking relaxed as he chatted with Mia and Topper. You tried to focus on your cereal, but his presence loomed over you, reminding you of everything you wanted to forget.
“So, what’s everyone up to later?” Rafe asked, his gaze flickering between you and Mia. “Got any fun plans? Or is it just another boring day in paradise?”
You rolled your eyes slightly, hoping to brush off the comment. “Just studying,” you replied, trying to keep your voice light.
“Like always?” Rafe smirked, leaning closer, his tone teasing but laced with something sharper. “You know, I thought you’d be over us by now. Seems like you still care way too much.”
The comment hit you like a punch in the gut, and honestly, it was weird to you that he even noticed you'd been glued to your dorm. It just showed you that he was still hung up on you. Your heart raced, anger bubbling to the surface. “Wow, really? You think it’s about you?” you snapped, the words slipping out before you could think twice.
Rafe shrugged that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. “I mean, it’s not like I’m the one who’s still depressed about it,” he replied, his tone smooth dripping with amusement at the fact he was getting to you.
“Unbelievable,” you said, standing up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor before You gathered your breakfast—cereal, fruit, and all—and headed toward the trash. You tossed it all into the bin. “Enjoy your breakfast,” you called over your shoulder, the disbelief mixed with fury driving you forward as you stormed out.
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