#rich enough
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'wah wah everywhere is falling to the right wing the whole world is doomed' literally like 6 months ago we were talking about how there was a trend in countries getting rid of their right wing governments. poland at the end of last year, france voted in a unified centre left/left alliance, even the UK finally got rid of the tories after 15 years (right wing splitting be damned, it still happened). outside of europe, bangladesh removed a dictator in like 2 seconds, india may have reelected their Evil Guy but on a DISTINCTLY reduced majority, theres been queer rights successes in thailand, with gay marriage set to be legal by 2025, and thereve been positive court cases on it in japan. and this is just stuff i vaguely remember hearing about. im sure theres more if you care to look for anything aside from more reasons to make yourself miserable
the US has a distinct effect on everyone, so this won't be fun for anyone (least of all its population. sorry guys), and there ARE a lot of people sliding into right wing extremism, but presenting this like its an unchallenged worldwide phenomenon is inaccurate, its damagingly bleak, and all it does is encourage despair and apathy. you DO have political power, and you shouldnt forget that just because of bad election results and the media's desperation to make you lose hope
#us politics#politics#have been seeing a lot of doom. guys not everything is sliding into horror. yeah theres dangerous trends but theres still a lot of rational#ppl in the world. dont forget that just because youre angry at people are rich enough not to care or who fall for fearmongering#anyway. sending love to the states it cant be easy sharing land mass with 70 million of the worst people ever
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Not “Only my reading of canon is correct” or “Interpretations are subjective and all valid” but a secret third thing, “More than one interpretation can be valid but there’s a reason your English teacher had you cite quotes and examples in your papers, you have to have a strong argument that your interpretation is actually supported by the text or it is just wrong and I’m fine with telling you it’s wrong, actually.”
#fandom#media literacy#like not to be shitty but. a lot of the kinds of things analyzed to death in fandom are not complicated#enough to lend themselves to really different readings in a rich way lol#we’re not talking about vertigo here just pew pew space movies and cartoons and superheroes#things that are typically more direct in what they have to say#so many smart ppl in the Star Wars fandom are too nice about this tbh#‘just my opinion though’ no babe it’s the only well defended take I’ve seen and u should own it!
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pretty privilege is many things. maybe you have seen yourself in body positive art maybe you dont need to bc your body is already worshipped.
being ugly is never included. wanting to kill yourself because you are a fucking joke, comic relief or something.
bad person does something and has 'ugly' qualifications, it is okay to make fun of him. (this millionaire had hair transplant lets laugh and comment on it)
#it is hard not to feel like the world hates ppl like me#sorry for balding#sorry for having beer belly#sorry for being short#sorry for being a man#btw using terms bde and sde (big dic energy#small dick energy) are 10000% BODYSHAMING#personal#i had to unfollow malementalhelth subreddit or whatever#because it was too depressing that men taller than me and with#average D size wanted to kill themself#bc im way shorter and as tranny dont even have a real d#and yes there was misogyny too#but mostly everything sucked there#basically cishet men off them self bc they dont feel like they are big enough#rich enough#for women
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bring your son to work day
#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#tsumsted wonderland#sorry this might be it guys#just kind of burnt out right now#i am enjoying the event though! i love these silly beanbags and their charming little adventures#can't wait for silver-tsum to wake up just long enough to take a bullet for malleus-tsum#and i extra extra love malleus and his beanbag both being SO passive-aggressive about missing the pile-up#the solution: DANCE PARTY#APPARENTLY#between this and glorious masquerade i'm starting to think this is malleus' solution to everything#(is this how episode 7 will end) (we DO traditionally get an end-of-episode rhythmic...)#also a+ some truly excellent spritework going on in this on#(sebek crunches down slightly 'RIDE ME WAKATSUMSAMA') (long beat) (malleus and tsum just sliiiiiide away screen left)#genuinely so much funnier than a literal depiction could ever be#anyway i did some careful calculations re:the probability of upcoming cards that i absolutely need and long story short#i am key-poor but tsum!malleus-rich >:)#(immediately goes through and switches all his lesson sprites to having a tsum wobbling on his head) worth it#now watch next month they're going to give us a white rabbit rerun with malleus and/or lilia as the frilliest froufrou bunnies#and i will be thoroughly effed
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How do I always find some obscure way to be a second class citizen wherever I go?
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Day 5 of Billy Batson week, this one is dedicated to all the 12 year old Dad Billy AU’s out there, especially when Kon’s the one being adopted
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e7ef0bff02b90fca8621126fb0084836/aee83386531a9fc0-f3/s540x810/44289763aee95f5ed72035b8d962ba8e32d2e782.jpg)
Part 2 here
Also I really want to know what the salary of a justice leaguer would be, is it a 401k? Can it support one person or a family? Or is it just above minimum wage? Do they even get dental?
#literally can Billy fully support himself with just the JL salary I’m curious#Bruce is still paying for everything the last I heard#idk if he’s rich enough to pay everyone but some exceptions should be no problem#wait he’s a billionaire he literally can nvmnd#anyway this comic is def inspired by suzukiblu’s fic#at least it’s the one that planted the brain worms#also imnotbuyingiteither’s fic raahhh#billybatsonweek#bb84week#billy batson#captain marvel#kon el#conner kent#superboy
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if you're a white person taking pleasure in the idea that Trump voters of colour are experiencing racist violence from white trumpers because "they got what's coming to them" I don't think you're anti-racist at all, I think you were just waiting for an acceptable target, and you're also fucking weird.
Bad Person Deserves Punishment For Their Sins give me a fucking break and get yourself out of the fucking catholic church. you're all prison abolitionists until you see someone you don't like.
#assholes still do not deserve to be victims of bigotry#people will crow this up and down until they find someone they think is a big enough asshole to really deserve it#watch your cognitive dissonance kids#i really am only speaking to white people here. as a white person.#POC can feel however they feel.#though i still don't think it's an appropriate sentiment to turn into Political Praxis there is of course a need to vent#like idk i don't find any marginalised suffering under fascism funny. i think it's fucking sad.#i think it is sad when right wing gay people experience homophobia and i think it is sad when right wing trans people experience transphobia#and when right wing disabled people experience ableism and when right wing women experience misogyny#leopards eating faces is funny when it's about like. rich people or misogynists or whatever it's.#do you understand that this is punching down?#why are we wasting our energy hoping for the victimisation of specific marginalised people#this would be a great time to do some outreach but instead everyone is just fucking MOCKING THEM#you're so fucking stupid you don't care about The Cause you care about Winning#this shit makes me furious.#have some compassion#the system speaks#USpol#Trump#racism#politics
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Bdubs home-away-from-home 1pt persp
Try my hand at colouring a build for once- I seldom do it both lineart and colours take too long . Experimentation on creating depth by shadow.
Other than the actual mc build itself, structure inspired by Adamo-Faiden architecture, particularly Bonpland 2169 andddd their collaboration with CHAMBER OHiggins 1625
#stufffsart#alienssscapes#character concept stufff#bdoubleo100#bdoubleo#Bdubs#hermitcraft season 10#hermitcraft#hermitblr#mcytblr#the shading in implying a light source is a bit out of wack hopefully not too noticeable#this will sound like the most nerd shit ever but (longing) i wish i was rich enough to have an a+u subscription 😔
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According to NBC here in the US, the missing titanic sub has been found. As debris. Off the bow of the Titanic wreckage.
And it looks like the sub suffered what we all suspected, and what was undoubtedly the more merciful of the two options: a catastrophic implosion from the pressure.
Also, more info has come to light about the fishing trawler with the hundreds of migrants that sank cataclysmically off the coast of Greece, indicating that the greek coast guard knew about the vessel AND how much trouble the vessel was in, and were towing it at a speed that made it capsize, at which point they unhooked the tow line and watched the trawler sink without helping the passengers to safety. Despite a bunch of other ships trying to help as well throughout the whole ordeal.
So a lot of people are dead, all because of regulations (and the lack thereof) regarding sea-faring vessels and rescue protocols. People shouldnt be allowed to make a business charging a ton of money for a ride on an uncertified, unsafe, un-seaworthy ship going deep into the ocean with no distress beacon or tether to the mothership. People also shouldnt be allowed to enact laws that criminalize the ferrying of refugees, which then force the refugees to hitch rides on fishing trawlers, and which also prevent people from helping those fishing trawlers full of refugees due to fear of legal consequences.
Hopefully BOTH of these events spark changes on an international scale in terms of what is legally allowed to be sailed, who is legally allowed to be the passengers, and what the rescue protocols are in the event of disaster for any seafaring vessel, illegal or not. It shouldnt be just the global 1% who get 24/7 search parties and remote-operated submersibles helping rescue them.
#the question of 'what do we owe to each other' can be answered simply with 'the dignity of retrieving our remains when we die'#another answer is 'the dignity of thinking about each other fellow humans with similar motivations and feelings'#also 'stopping someones potentially self-destructive behaviors just because theyre rich and want to feel special'#also i feel like humans have been sailing the seas long enough that it should be guaranteed that people will survive sea voyages#im very mad about specifically mediterranean maritime disasters because we have ancient writing saying they made it safe#sailing from Egypt to Greece was so old hat and safe that people legit took the ancient equivalent of cruises back and forth#cleopatra habitually sailed from alexandria to rome with a ton of ships and was fine#Nero tried to have his mother drowned at sea by orchestrating a dramatic shipwreck while she was our sailing AND SHE SURVIVED#and then swam to shore got back to rome and whooped his ass#fuckin pliny the elder tried to evacuate people from pompeii and the surrounding coast villages when vesuvius erupted#and he actually WAS able to rescue people#but he himself had an asthma attack from the fumes which led to a heart attack and he died on the beach#there is legit no excuse for that trawler of migrant refugees to have wrecked#negligence all around#anyway#oceangate
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random:
but i genuinely believe that bruce goes full billionaire father on Christmas. it is EASILY the best excuse he has to spoil the fuck out of his kids, and buy literally every single thing he thinks they would like. what are they gonna do, tell him no??? it's christmas, he's SUPPOSED to buy gifts, he's SUPPOSED to try and buy their love. if there is one day a year he gets to act a fool, and swipe his card as many times as he likes it is then.
and because he's such a freak who, for all his faults, fucking LOVES his kids -- he absolutely has a W.E elf squad, 2 elves assigned to each kid, whose sole job is to accumulate a list and find every single item on that list, and if that means haggling and daring to get into a fist fight for the last one, you better fucking do it. he is paying big money to make sure everything is secured. . . do not fail him.
everyone's still haunted by the 2013 "incident" involving dick grayson wayne, a lack of an indoor trampoline, and an uncomfortably cold conference room.
#sometimes......he should be allowed to be a billionaire#he's rich enough to be eccentric and not crazy#this is one of those times#there's brucie wayne#there's batman#and then there's bruce “dad” wayne#and he's easily the scariest#god forbid anyone fuck up his kids' christmas#batman#batfam#dc comics#jason todd#bruce wayne#dick grayson#tim drake#damian wayne#duke thomas#cassandra cain#headcanon#bruce wayne headcanon#incorrect bruce wayne
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Fun Facts 531-540
• Solomon and Simeon worry that them tutoring Luke could bruise his ego so they ask others to help, like MC and Barbatos
• Beelzebub took a whip cream bath with MC and Belphegor
• When Leviathan was cursed to shout a secret he loudly admitted that when Satan is mad he reminds him of Lucifer. Satan heard and Levi went into hiding.
• Raphael had never heard of baked sweet potatoes
• Thirteen claims MC’s soul shines exactly like Solomon’s used to when she first met him.
• Asmodeus did not develop the ability to charm others until after he became a demon
• Raphael believes it won’t be long until Diavolo has won over the entire Devildom
• Diavolo once bought a lollipop for everyone in the Devildom. Mammon said the amount it set him back was substantial.
• According to the chat name between the three of them, Lucifer considers Mammon and Simeon to be brats
• Lucifer bought cat-shaped bread for his brothers to enjoy but Satan refused to let anyone eat it
521-530 • 541-550
#obey me shall we date#obey me lucifer#obey me diavolo#Diavolo is rich enough to buy everyone in the entire realm a piece of candy#obey me mammon#obey me solomon#obey me simeon#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me belphegor#obey me beelzebub#obey me barbatos#obey me luke#obey me raphael#obey me leviathan#obey me thirteen#obey me fun facts#obey me fun fact#obey me facts
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V: Not that I’m broke. Because I know where to come if I’m broke.
D: Thank you for buying merchandise at shop.danielhowell.com so that I can pay for my grandma’s…total body workout.
Hard to overstate how much I adore this whole this (saved the parasocial for the tags)
#all the years she seems to have been such stability for him#and now he can be stability for her#and she knoooows it she knows he’ll prop up her lifestyle she knows she’s got a richass grandson#and he buys her nice things and surely pays for the trips they take#and they just have such a sweet hilarious dynamic their dry humor seems so similar b#and the love is so palpable#and I just am tickled by thinking about when he got wealthy enough to be able to financially support his gran#that that’s what he did#at least enough for her to feel comfortable making this comment :)#also he looks sooooo pleased about it#also sorry to be toxic but lowkey hot of him to know he’s that rich bitch#Dan and Phil#Dan Howell#me yapping
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solidarity
#letters regarding jeeves#my pal bertie#dracula daily#jeeves#Tom Gauld#made this for myself because i started getting a bit green eyed over how big the dracula bookclub is#even though i totally understand that the appeal of dracula is naturally much broader#than the appeal of some episodic-ish comedic stories about a rich british aristocrat who talks weird and his hypercompetent servant#and anyway it's very cozy here in the jeeves corner I have to say#it's surprisingly nice to be involved in a fandom active enough to be engaging#but slow enough to be able to keep up with practically everything that's going on#idanit talks#?#i don't have a tag for memes lol
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teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe
reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.
word count — 6.1 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. masterlist
nineteen
saturday, march 1st
"okay, ready?" ivy’s voice broke the quiet of the library, her sharp gaze narrowing as she held up the next flashcard. you nodded, settling your hands neatly in your lap, trying to shake off the tension in your shoulders.
"main causes of the american revolution?" she asked, her tone brisk but encouraging.
"taxation without representation, british military presence, proclamation of 1763, and acts like the stamp act and tea act," you rattled off, your voice low but steady. she gave a quick nod, flipping to the next card with a satisfied mutter.
"what was the significance of the monroe doctrine?"
"it stated that european powers should not interfere in the western hemisphere and established u.s. influence in the americas," you answered, nodding slightly as if to confirm your own words. ivy hummed in approval, her eyes scanning the card before moving on.
"what triggered the united states’ entry into world war one?" she asked, her voice laced with expectation.
you opened your mouth, ready to reply, but the answer danced just out of reach. blinking, you sifted through your mental notes, coming up blank. "the…" you hesitated, brows furrowing as you scrambled to connect the dots. "the sinking of the lusitania?" you ventured, your voice tinged with uncertainty.
ivy nodded, her expression urging you on.
"oh!" the memory clicked into place. "the unrestricted submarine warfare by germany and the zimmerman telegram!" you finished with a triumphant grin.
"ten out of ten," ivy whispered, punching the air subtly in celebration.
"moreee! i need to get this information printed into my brain," you pleaded, leaning forward with an exaggerated look.
ivy gave you a pointed look, crossing her arms. "we’ve been at this since one, and it’s almost six," she said, the corners of her mouth twitching upward in a laugh. "i think we could both use a break."
“fine,” you reluctantly agree.
she stood, grabbing her bottle off the table. "i’m gonna refill this. we’ll pick it back up in five, okay?"
you sighed but nodded, watching as she walked toward the water fountain. the moment she was out of sight, you slid your notebook aside and switched over to your imessage conversation with rafe, your lips curving into a soft smile as you read over his last message.
a couple of seconds after you send your last text, your phone lights up with a facetime call from rafe. the ringing feels louder in the quiet library, and you scramble to answer before ivy—or worse, the librarian—shoots you a glare. the call connects, and the screen fills with rafe sitting in his car, the faint golden light of the setting sun casting a warm glow over his sharp features. he’s fiddling with his phone, adjusting it against the dashboard, the camera wobbling slightly before he settles it.
“—coming back?” a voice crackles faintly in the background, pulling rafe’s attention toward his window. his brow furrows, lips twitching in a mix of amusement and confusion.
“dude, you sound drunk,” rafe says with a laugh, shaking his head as he adjusts his seatbelt. his smile tugs at the corner of his lips, easy and familiar.
“i didn’t drink!” the voice protests indignantly, and rafe’s face twists with exaggerated disbelief as he glances toward the source.
“kelce,” he drawls, his tone dripping with mockery, “you had four corona lights.”
“there’s alcohol in corona lights?” kelce’s voice is so genuinely confused that you can’t help but snort quietly, covering your mouth to stifle the sound.
rafe hears it and turns to the camera, his grin widening at the sight of you laughing. his gaze lingers for a beat longer before he shakes his head and looks back at kelce. “kelce, back up. i’m about to drive off, and i actually can’t deal with you right now.”
“i thought they called it ‘light’ because there’s no alcohol in it!” kelce yells, his tone insistent, and rafe groans, dragging a hand down his face.
“you’re an idiot,” rafe mutters, throwing the car into reverse as kelce finally stumbles out of the way.
“are you sure he should be in our grade?” you tease, watching as rafe navigates out of the parking lot, the golden hour light catching in his hair and softening the edges of his jawline.
“no,” rafe deadpans, his eyes flicking toward the camera briefly. “i’m really not.”
your grin widens as you reach up to undo your claw clip, letting your hair fall loose around your shoulders. you shake it out slightly, the strands catching the soft light spilling through the windows. rafe’s gaze flickers back to the screen for a split second, his expression softening as his eyes follow the motion, but he quickly refocuses on the road ahead.
“what are you craving?” he asks casually, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other draped over the gear shift.
“what’s around?” you counter, leaning back in your chair, your voice playful as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
his eyes narrow slightly, his lips pressing into a stubborn line. “what are you craving?” he repeats, his tone insistent, though there’s a hint of amusement dancing in his expression.
“fine,” you relent with an exaggerated sigh, though a smile creeps onto your face. “chipotle? like, a bowl with rice, guac, chicken...” you lean your chin on your hand, practically drooling at the thought.
rafe hums, glancing at the GPS on his dash. “there’s one close. i could grab it and be at the library in, like, half an hour—assuming they don’t take forever.”
“perfect,” you murmur, already mentally calculating how much more studying you and ivy could squeeze in before the food arrived.
a few quiet moments pass, the hum of the car filling the space before rafe leans back in his seat at a red light. “so,” he starts, his voice casual but with a note of deliberation. “i was just with the boys, and they wanna come by mine later. my dad got this new grill, and they’re all obsessed with trying it out. my parents are gone for the weekend, and the girls are coming, too. you should come.”
the suggestion hangs in the air for a moment, and your chest tightens, a swirl of emotions tumbling through you. you hadn’t talked about the bonfire yet—the memory of him with adriana still lingered, raw and unresolved, and the image of their lips together was one you couldn’t quite shake, but you stupidly had been pushing it aside. you didn’t want to have this stupid conversation, didn’t want to risk anything breaking this beautiful little bubble you were both in. surely, there was an explanation—there had to be. so, just ask him.
maybe they used to have a thing? you honestly didn't really like to think about it all because the image alone upset you but if they did have a thing, it was probably over. right?
and the new girl every day thing had to be made up though the valentine's day letters did stir something up in you.
rafe was so gentle, so soft, so loving and caring. he could never treat girls as disposable as cora made it out to be.
“you could bring ivy,” he adds, his voice softening, his gaze hopeful. “i’ll drive her home after, and maybe you could sleep over?”
his words are casual, but the implication lingers in the space between you. you’d been waiting for the right occasion to finally have sex and his parents not being home? that seemed like the perfect time and place. your heart races. the idea of staying over—of finally taking that step—sends a rush of heat to your cheeks, but at the same time, you can’t ignore the nagging voice in the back of your head urging you to bring up the bonfire first.
you nod slowly, “can we—“
“bring me where?” ivy’s voice cuts through your words. you glance up to see her standing behind you, her curious gaze flicking between you and the phone.
“oh,” you say quickly, trying to gather your thoughts. “rafe’s hosting this small thing at his house, and he asked if you’d want to come.”
ivy slides into the seat beside you, resting her head on your shoulder so her face pops into the frame. “what kind of thing?” she asks, her question clearly directed at rafe.
"a..barbecue but it's not outside—alcohol, but you don't have to drink—ultra casual friends thing. i can drop you off at home too." rafe explains, his voice steady but warm.
ivy hesitates for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly before she relaxes with a shrug. “why not? i’ve never been to that kind of thing,” she says lightly, her tone curious.
she turns to you, raising an eyebrow. “we can go, right?”
you glance between her and rafe, feeling the weight of their gazes. finally, you nod, a small smile playing on your lips. “yeah, we can go. rafe’s bringing us chipotle first,” you add, your tone brightening.
ivy’s eyes light up as she leans toward the phone. “wait, don’t joke with me. are you really getting us food?”
rafe chuckles, his voice warm and teasing. “yeah. what do you want?”
“hold on, i need my phone!” ivy scrambles, rummaging through her bag, and you laugh, shaking your head. “she has a very specific chipotle order,” you explain, already typing it out. “it’s easier if i just text it to you.”
rafe smirks, clearly entertained, but he doesn’t argue. a few minutes later, after you send the details, you’re subjected to twenty-eight excruciating minutes of ivy glancing toward the hallway every few seconds, her anticipation palpable. yes, you counted.
when rafe finally walks in, bags in hand, ivy practically leaps out of her seat. “you’re god-sent,” she declares dramatically, clutching the food like it’s a lifeline before digging in with record speed. you can’t help but laugh, your chest warming at the sight of her excitement and rafe’s quiet amusement.
rafe strolled over to you, his hands extended, palms up. you tilted your head, curious, before slipping your hands into his. his grip was warm and steady as he pulled you to your feet, and before you could say anything, he looped your arms around his neck. his hands settled lightly on your waist, and then he dipped his head to kiss you. it was slow and gentle, the kind of kiss that left you dizzy, though you fought to keep yourself grounded, sighing softly against his lips as he pulled you deeper into the moment.
“missed you, baby.” he murmured, his voice low and warm as he pulled back just enough that your breaths mingled between you.
“i missed you,” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper before you pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. his grin was soft but immediate, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as his hands slid lower to steady you.
“thanks for the food,” you said, glancing briefly toward ivy, who was blissfully absorbed in her chipotle bowl, completely oblivious to the exchange.
rafe followed your gaze, chuckling under his breath. “no need to thank me.” he stepped back and dropped into the chair you’d been sitting in, only to tug you down onto his knee.
you settled against him, adjusting slightly to get comfortable. “you always tell me not to thank you,” you said with mock exasperation, tilting your head to look at him. “that’s really rude, you know? who doesn’t say thank you?”
he pulled a bag from beside his chair and started unpacking it, his movements casual. “you don’t need to thank me for things that go without saying,” he replied simply, not looking up.
you hummed thoughtfully, the familiar spark of debate flaring in your chest. “i get what you’re saying, but i think some things do need acknowledgment. like, i agree there are certain actions that people do in relationships—whether romantic, familial, or platonic—that don’t need constant recognition. but still, a little appreciation never hurts. like when my parents put food on the table—it’s their job, sure, but i still say thank you because it shows I value their effort. it’s about gratitude, not obligation.”
rafe placed your bowl in front of you, a fork and napkin neatly folded beside it. “i get that,” he said, leaning back slightly as you dug into your food. “but i think a lot of things are just part of being in someone’s life. like, it’s not a task or a burden for me to do something for you. it’s automatic—like brushing my teeth. you don’t thank someone for brushing their teeth, do you? it’s just… normal.”
you chewed slowly, considering his point, before shifting on his knee to face him better. the bowl rested on your lap as you studied his expression. “that’s an interesting perspective,” you said finally, nodding a little. “but i’m still going to say thank you.”
his lips curved into a soft smirk as he raked his fingers through his hair. “and i’m still going to tell you not to.”
you rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. picking up the flashcards from the table, you plopped them into his hands. “fine, if you won’t accept my thanks, you can at least make yourself useful. quiz me.”
rafe huffed dramatically as he fanned through the colorful cards. “wow, i’m really just a tool to you, huh?”
from across the table, ivy piped up between bites of her food, her voice dripping with dry humor. “not just a tool, also a bank card.”
rafe’s laughter was immediate, shaking his head as he glanced at you.
“okay,” he said, flipping to the first card with a grin. “what was the purpose of the patriot act?”
you don’t linger too long at the library—just long enough for you and ivy to finish your food. once the bowls are empty and the conversation fades, rafe gathers you both and drives you home so you can drop off your bags and check in with your parents. the plan is simple: tell them you’re sleeping over at ivy’s, grab a few essentials, and head out again.
once inside, you catch a whiff of the lingering chipotle smell on your clothes, and it’s enough to make you grimace. after a quick change into fresh, comfortable clothes, and brushing your teeth to erase the last traces of cilantro-lime rice, you’re back in rafe’s car.
he’s quiet when you slide into the passenger seat, his head down as he types something on his phone. the faint glow illuminates a frown etched into his features. you buckle your seatbelt and glance at him, concern stirring. “you okay?” you ask softly.
he doesn’t look up or respond, his focus still glued to his screen.
“rafe?” you try again, your voice a little firmer this time. his head snaps up, eyes meeting yours as if pulled from deep thought.
“hmm?” he hums, blinking.
“are you okay?” you repeat, studying him closely.
he exhales, the frown softening but not entirely disappearing. “yeah,” he says quietly, slipping his phone onto the console. “just… haven’t heard much from sarah lately. i’ve been trying to get ahold of her.”
you nod, your hand brushing against his arm in a small, reassuring gesture. “i’m sure she’s fine. maybe reach out to your aunt in the morning, just to check in? but it’s probably nothing to worry about.”
his lips quirk into a faint smile as he nods. “yeah, you’re probably right. i’ll text her tomorrow.”
ivy clambers into the back seat, breaking the moment, and soon rafe is pulling out of your driveway. the car hums softly, the headlights cutting through the dark as ivy peppers rafe with questions about anything and everything that pops into her head. her curiosity is endless.
you smile faintly at their banter, but your mind drifts, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve. it wasn’t fear—not exactly—but the thought of being around rafe’s friends again brought a weight to your chest. the last time had ended badly, leaving you walking home alone in the dark, tears blurring your vision.
time had passed since that night, though, and things were different now. rafe had been nothing but perfect—kind, attentive, funny, the kind of person who made your heart skip and your stomach flutter. your parents adored him, your friends approved, and he had done nothing to make you doubt his feelings. it should be fine. everything should be fine. but still, a flicker of unease clung to you.
you’d talk to him tonight, when everyone left. that was the only quiet moment you’d get.
“you okay?” ivy’s voice broke through your thoughts as you approached rafe’s front door.
you glanced at her, startled, and nodded quickly. “yeah, of course. why?”
she studied you for a moment, her brow furrowed. “you just seem a little… nervous.”
“nope, not nervous,” you said with a forced smile, shaking your head as if to convince yourself as much as her.
she didn’t press further, but the shadow of doubt lingered in her eyes as you both stepped inside behind rafe.
the faint murmur of voices floated from the living room, punctuated by occasional laughter, as you crossed the foyer. the sound made your stomach tighten, but you squared your shoulders and followed rafe’s lead, determined to make it through the evening.
"rafe! there you are, i seriously need—" kiara's voice echoed down the stairs but stopped abruptly when her eyes landed on you and ivy. her surprised expression melted into a wide, welcoming smile. "hey! you came!" she exclaimed, practically skipping down the last few steps.
jj was close behind her, bounding down the stairs like a golden retriever before leaping onto rafe’s back in a chaotic greeting. rafe stumbled forward slightly, muttering something about jj needing a leash, but you were too focused on kiara approaching you and ivy.
"hey, kiara," you said warmly, gesturing toward your friend. "this is ivy."
ivy offered a polite smile and a small wave. "hi, nice to meet you."
"i’m kiara," she said, grinning at the both of you. "so glad you came." without missing a beat, she looped an arm through yours and started tugging you forward. jj threw a quick, cheerful “hi” your way before he and rafe disappeared behind the corner.
"since you don’t drink, i got you something special!" kiara announced with an excited sparkle in her eyes. she practically beamed as she gestured toward the kitchen island, where cleo and pope were deep in the throes of concocting something that resembled a science experiment more than a drink.
pope held up a glass, swirling it like a sommelier, while cleo smirked beside him, her fingers busy mixing something else.
"look!" kiara reached for a six-pack of sleek, colorful cans and held them up like a prized trophy. you stared at them, blinking in confusion.
"they’re virgin mojitos!" she said proudly, her voice practically dripping with enthusiasm.
it clicked a moment later, and you couldn’t help but smile. "so, i can kind of pretend i’m drinking the same as you guys? how thoughtful!" you laugh and kiara nods.
"of course! no one gets left out here," she said with a grin.
pope had already grabbed one of the cans, cracking it open with a flourish and pouring its contents into a glass. he added some questionable-looking ingredients from the assortment on the counter, finishing it off with a dramatic sprinkle of sugar.
"boom!" pope declared, sliding the drink toward you. "virgin cocktails à la cleo and pope. tell me that’s not perfection."
with cautious determination, you took a small sip. immediately, your face scrunched up as the overpowering sweetness hit you. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to swallow without gagging.
"oh my god," you croaked, handing the glass to ivy, who was already laughing at your reaction.
ivy hesitated, then took a brave sip herself. the second the liquid touched her tongue, her eyes went wide, and she practically spat it back into the glass. "oh, god! what is that? did you dump an entire bag of sugar in here?"
pope and cleo were doubled over with laughter, clearly amused by your suffering.
as ivy hunted for water, muttering something about "instant diabetes," john b strolled into the kitchen, eyebrow raised. "guys, seriously? already throwing up?"
ivy, still laughing through her sputtering, waved him off as she grabbed a glass of water. "i think i just shaved ten years off my life," she mumbled dramatically, taking long gulps.
cleo crossed her arms, looking offended. "you two clearly don’t appreciate our craftsmanship."
"yeah," pope added, nodding in agreement. "this is an art form."
you glanced at kiara, who was biting her lip to hold back laughter. your shared look was enough to set both of you off.
you weave through the place, scanning for rafe in the sea of familiar faces, but he’s nowhere in sight. a few steps in, you collide with jj, his lazy grin revealing he's had more than just a few drinks. "hello," he greets, his voice light and teasing.
"hi," you reply, smiling politely, though his glassy eyes and slight sway make you wonder if he’s entirely steady on his feet.
you glance back to see him watching pope and cleo, who are hunched over the kitchen counter, laughing as they concoct a drink that looks less like a cocktail and more like a dare. jj turns back to you, ignoring your question entirely. "looking for rafe?" he asks, his tone casual.
"yeah," you nod, and his grin widens.
"i’ll take you to him." before you can protest, he drapes an arm over your shoulder, steering you toward the garden.
outside, the air is cooler, and the faint glow of string lights illuminates the yard. rafe stands by the grill with topper and cora. topper is manning the grill, flipping meat with practiced ease, while cora plates the freshly cooked food. rafe, on the other hand, leans casually against the table, contributing absolutely nothing.
"rafe! i brought you a peace offering," jj announces with exaggerated theatrics, gripping your shoulders and nudging you forward.
"peace offering?" you echo, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you glance between jj and rafe.
rafe’s brows lift as he looks at you, his lips twitching into a smirk. "oh, yes. a peace offering because jackson here threw up on my carpet yesterday," he says dryly.
jj lets out an indignant noise, ducking as rafe chucks a nearby towel at his head. "dude! i cleaned it up, and you love me, so stop holding grudges and just forgive me already."
jj moves toward the table, hand reaching for a freshly grilled sausage, but cora smacks his fingers without missing a beat. "it just came off the grill, idiot. you’ll burn yourself."
"you didn’t clean it up," topper chimes in, laughing. "you wiped it. there’s a difference. he’s gonna have to get the carpet professionally cleaned."
"and who’s paying for that?" rafe asks, his tone pointed as he slides an arm around your waist.
jj shrugs, lips pressing together in mock thought. "your rich-ass parents," he answers shamelessly.
"or yours," rafe counters, raising a brow.
jj grimaces, shoving a piece of sausage into his mouth before mumbling, "my dad hasn’t given me a dime since i took his lambo for that little joyride."
"you didn’t even crash it. what’s the issue?" kelce’s voice cuts in as he steps out from the house, joining the growing group.
their conversation continues, laughter and banter spilling into the cool night air. but your focus shifts, the voices fading into the background. you can feel cora’s eyes on you, her gaze heavy and assessing. instead of meeting her stare, you focus on the comforting warmth of rafe beside you, the way his chest rumbles when he laughs, the scent of his cologne grounding you. you twist one of his fingers absently, letting the small act ease your nerves.
after a few moments, you lean closer to rafe. "i’m gonna go get a drink," you murmur softly.
his attention snaps to you, his blue eyes searching yours. "you good?" he asks, concern flickering across his face.
you nod quickly, offering him a reassuring smile. "uh-huh. you want anything?"
"whatever beer’s in the fridge," he replies, and you nod, brushing a kiss against his cheek before heading back toward the house.
as you step inside, the warmth and noise envelop you again, and your gaze lands on adriana making her entrance. she glides through with a confidence that borders on arrogance, her knowing smile is a little unsettling and when she catches your eye, her expression twists into something mocking, though she doesn’t say a word. instead, she brushes past you, heading straight for the garden—and for rafe.
you bite the inside of your cheek, willing yourself to shake off the unease bubbling in your chest. moving toward the kitchen, you find ivy perched at the island, her laughter mingling with the chatter of kiara, cleo, pope, and john b.
you rest your chin on ivy’s shoulder, your voice soft as you ask, "you good?"
she turns to you, her smile bright and reassuring. "very good. you?"
the question is simple, but the answer feels anything but. you hesitate, searching for the right words, though none seem to fit. "yeah," you say finally, forcing a smile. it’s what you should say because nothing is wrong. but deep down, something feels off. something you can’t quite place.
the whole evening, you kept waiting for something to go wrong. you could feel it hovering like a storm cloud, an almost tangible weight pressing on your chest. but nothing happened. cora and adriana barely acknowledged you, and rafe’s friends were as welcoming and warm as the first time you’d met them. you ate, you laughed, and for a moment, you almost believed the night could stay perfect.
but then you glanced at the clock—nine p.m.—and instinctively reached for your phone, only to realize it wasn’t in your pocket. you patted the other one, frowning as the absence unsettled you. rafe, ever attentive, noticed immediately.
“do you know where my phone is?” you asked him, voice light despite the knot forming in your stomach.
he paused, thoughtful. “in your jacket? jackets are on my bed upstairs. want me to grab it?”
you shook your head quickly, forcing a smile. “no, that’s okay.” before he could respond, you were already moving, eager to retrieve it yourself.
the familiar grey door to his room was ajar, and inside, a mountain of jackets sprawled across his bed. you rifled through them, finally locating yours. slipping your phone from the pocket, you glanced at the screen. just a couple of messages—school group chats and your mom wishing you a good night.
you were still typing a reply to your mom when you turned and gasped, startled to find yourself face-to-face with adriana.
“adriana, hi.” your voice wavered as you took a step back, your heart hammering in your chest.”
“hey, teach.” she smiled and took a strand of your hair, flicking it between her fingers. “isn’t he great with his fingers?”
you frowned. “what?” the word barely escaped your lips before they continued.
“didn’t i tell you next time, it’d be you?” cora mused, from behind her, her usual saccharine smile firmly in place. "right as always."
“listen,” you started, trying to keep your voice steady as you shifted to step past them, “i don’t want any problems with either of you. if there’s a problem with rafe, you should really just talk to him.” the words felt forced, but you hoped they’d end this confrontation.
cora chuckled, the sound low and condescending. “there is no problem with rafe,” she said breezily. “that’s what we’re trying to tell you. no girl has ever had any complaints.”
“this says as much,” adriana chimed in, and your stomach dropped as you turned to see her holding a stack of letters. valentine’s day letters. rafe’s valentine’s day letters.
your chest tightened painfully. “those are just crushes,” you said quickly, your voice firmer now. “they don’t mean anything.”
“really?” cora tilted her head, her brows arching in mock curiosity. “well, i’m curious.”
you had no interest in entertaining their games, so you moved to leave, muttering, “okay, you two have fun. i’m gonna go.”
but adriana grabbed your arm, pulling you back with a laugh that grated against your nerves. “no, no, hold on, teach!” she sang, flipping open one of the letters with deliberate glee.
“this one’s good,” she began, her voice dripping with amusement. she cleared her throat. “‘rafey, the other night was so fun. i left you a little gift in your sock drawer. same time, next friday? love, lexi.’”
next friday? had he really been seeing girls while he was seeing you?
your breath caught as cora, with a sickening familiarity, moved to the dresser. she opened the drawer without hesitation, rummaging through the neatly folded socks until she produced something bright red.
“and would you look at that?” cora said, holding up a pair of red lace panties. “pretty sexy.”
“wait, those are actually cute,” adriana giggled, inspecting them like they were a trophy. “wonder where she got them.”
you stared at the fabric dangling from her fingers, the blood draining from your face. this had to be manipulation. some twisted attempt to mess with you. but then, why did he have those panties?
cora snatched another letter, her grin widening. “okay, another one! ‘remember our beach day? you said you love me. can’t stop thinking about you. happy valentine’s day. s.’”
you felt a sharp sting behind your eyes, and when cora turned to you, her expression almost pitying, the first tear slipped free. you aggressively wiped it away.
“she’s so sweet! isn’t she sweet?” she taunted, and her gaze made something inside you snap.
you clutched your jacket tightly, desperate to leave, but adriana wasn’t finished. “hold on, teach!” she laughed, grabbing yet another letter. “this one’s even better! ‘i still remember when you took my v-card in the back of your car—‘“
no no no.
no.
your heart strings pulled tightly and you stopped listening. you shoved past adriana, the world around you blurring as tears filled your vision.
you felt a hand grip your arm and tug you back. “hey?” cora’s ‘concerned’ face, “we’re just trying to help you. i’m a girl’s girl, y/n. i just don’t want to see you get hurt since clearly you aren’t smart enough to see through him yourself.”
you tugged your arm away and behind you, their laughter echoed like a cruel melody. “how sad,” adriana laughed, her voice chasing you down the hallway as your chest heaved with silent, choked sobs.
you rush down the stairs, the sound of your footsteps muffled by the pounding in your ears. tears blur your vision, and the lump in your throat feels like it’s choking you. you don’t stop, you can’t stop. your heart is in free fall, shattering with every breath. you dart past rafe's friends, kiara's concerned look, topper saying something you don't quite catch, their faces a blur, until you find ivy.
her eyes meet yours instantly, wide with concern, like she can sense the storm inside you. “i’m gonna go,” you manage to choke out, your voice trembling. before you can say another word, she’s at your side, her hand brushing against your arm. “y/n?”
rafe is suddenly there too, his brows furrowed, confusion etched into his face. “y/n, baby?” his voice is soft but urgent, and when he reaches for your wrist, you yank it away, shaking your head violently.
“what's wrong, talk to me?” he pleads, moving to block your path. his blue eyes are frantic, clouded with worry, the same eyes you adored only minutes ago. now all you could think about was how you sat in his car, the same car he used to bring you to the retirement home, the one he used to pick you up and take you to school, the one where you'd laughed the most you'd ever laughed and you'd kissed him over and over. the same car you'd given him your first freaking blowjob in was the same car he used to take some girl's virginity and who knows who else's? yours was next. clearly.
“please, just let me g-go.” your voice cracks, trembling with barely-contained sobs as you try to push past him because the thoughts of 'next friday' won't leave you. the picture of him with another girl right after your seeing you or even right before. who knows?
rafe doesn’t let up. his hands find your arms, his grip firm but careful, his touch begging you to stay. “what happened? y/n, please—please talk to me,” he implores, his voice breaking as he tries to steady you, to calm you and it feels like such bullshit, it all feels like a slap in the face and it feels like being deceived and betrayed and you can’t think, don’t care about all the eyes on you, watching you cry—you can’t care because you have this ugly picture playing in your head of him sleeping with girls after touching you and kissing you and him telling a girl he loves her and that girl isn’t you. that girl is not you. it was never you. it all sort of becomes clear. this illusion, dream-like state that you refused to burst out of because of how blissful it felt was really just that, a far-fetched dream.
“don’t touch me! stop!” you cry, your voice rising, panic taking over.
adriana’s voice slices through the tension like a blade, smooth and cruel. “you should leave her alone, rafe. i think she’s had enough.”
his head snaps toward her, his body stiffening. “what? what did you say to her? what the fuck did you two do?” his voice is sharp, his tone teetering on the edge of fury as he glares at adriana and cora.
cora shrugs, her smile dripping with feigned innocence. “we? we didn’t say anything to her. your many, many conquests, though? they were a lot more talkative.”
you watch as the words register, as rafe freezes, his anger shifting to something like dread. his gaze swings back to you, wide and pleading. “you read the letters?” he whispers.
you don’t answer. the tears in your eyes say enough. they won’t stop, pouring down your cheeks as you stare at him, your chest heaving with sobs you can’t control. his momentary hesitation gives you just enough time to slip out of his grasp, to make a desperate break for the door.
“no! no, wait—” his voice is desperate, and his hand finds your wrist again, pulling you into his chest. his grip trembles as much as his voice. “it’s not true—” he stammers, then falters. “well, it’s—i swear, i promise, the moment this became real, the moment i realised you didn't just see me as a friend, i was yours. you know me,” he pleads, his words rushing together, his forehead pressing against yours in a futile attempt to anchor you. “look at me, baby. look at me. you know me.” he begs.
you don’t wipe the tears away. there’s no point. they fall faster than you can stop them, burning hot trails down your cheeks. “is that you? a new girl every couple of days? you—” your voice cracks, broken and raw, “you told a girl you love her?"” the words feel like poison on your tongue, and you pray, beg silently for him to deny it, to give you anything to make this nightmare go away.
“you took another girl’s virginity… in your car?” the words taste bitter on your tongue, your voice breaking on the last syllable. your chest is so tight it hurts to breathe.
you try to pull away from him, to rip yourself from his grasp, but his fingers cling desperately to you. the nausea rises so violently you think you might actually throw up.
rafe’s head shakes frantically, his own eyes filling with tears, the panic setting in. “i don’t—i don’t have the best track record, i know that! but you—you brought out the best in me. i know i fucked up, i know the shit i did wasn’t okay, but i’m sorry,” he pleads, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt.
you barely hear him. your pulse is roaring in your ears, your vision blurring with tears.
“do you remember her name?” you whisper. your voice is so quiet, so fragile, but it cuts through the air like a blade.
his breath catches. his whole body goes still, like he doesn’t understand the question. his blue eyes dart across your face, searching desperately for something—an out, an answer, a way to fix this.
“what…?” his voice is hoarse.
you swallow back a sob, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “you were her first,” you repeat, and your voice is deadly soft now. “do you even remember her name?”
the silence that follows is unbearable.
he doesn’t speak. doesn’t even breathe for three whole seconds.
and that’s all it takes.
your stomach lurches. a cold, sickening wave crashes over you, and suddenly his hands on you feel wrong, like they’re scorching your skin, leaving burns behind.
“no, please—please, baby, don’t—” rafe’s voice is raw, wrecked. he reaches for you again, his hands desperate, his entire body pleading, but you stumble back, chest heaving, tears slipping down your face in hot, relentless streams.
he chokes on a breath. his whole face is crumbling, his own tears spilling over now, but you can’t bear to look at him. you can’t breathe around the ache in your chest, around the betrayal weighing down your limbs like lead.
“oh, god..” you shake your head, wrenching yourself out of his arms. “no, please, please.” he tries to pull you close, tries to get you to look at him. “baby—“
“no. no, please, stop. let me go,” you beg him, your voice shaking as you push him away, desperate to escape.
“no, y/n, please—please don’t go,” he begs, his hands reaching for you again, trembling with desperation. “i’m so sorry. i swear, i swear on everything, i’m not that person anymore. i can't lose you. you know me!”
but you can’t listen. you can’t hear another word, not when your heart is breaking like this. the air feels too heavy, the walls too close, and all you know is that you need to get out of this house.
you yank the front door open, but your escape halts when you see her—sarah cameron, standing there with a suitcase in hand. even through the haze of your tears, you recognize her.
“sur…prise,” she says hesitantly, her eyes darting between you, rafe, and the onlookers scattered around the foyer. the scene before her—a girl sobbing uncontrollably, rafe pleading, their friends frozen in stunned silence—leaves her wide-eyed and unsure.
you only look at her for a fleeting moment before stepping past her, out into the cold night. rafe’s voice carries after you, cracking with disbelief. “sarah?”
ivy’s hand slips into yours as she catches up, her grip warm and grounding. you squeeze it tightly, the tears still flowing, unstoppable and endless, as you walk away.
chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap.
a.n — um ya.. what IM surprised abt is that she was gonna let him hit it when he hasnt even made it official..? girl? standardsss??
taglist — @rafeysworldim19 @my-name-is-baby @pogueprincesa @fveapplestall @chalametlover444 @slutglimreqpers @uarmyhopeworldwide @junxe3 @bakuhoethotski @kinderwh0r3 @wintercrows @magicalflowerstranger @bigjuli444 @singlethreadofivy @stylestarkey
let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist & interact with post to remain tagged <3
#rich jj maybank bc my boy suffered enough in the real show#novawrites#teachme#soccerplayer!rafe#tutor!reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x you#fluff#angst#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe outer banks#eventual virginity loss#rafe cameron fluff#john b routledge#pope heyward#kiara carrera#sarah cameron#outer banks#obx#dividers by cafekitsune
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this is not directed at anything in particular so much as a lament ive made in private several times over the years and am thinking about again now but. i wish that fandom had not conflated the term "zine" with "artbook". because 99% of the "zines" i see are in fact artbooks, chapbooks, or art/writing anthologies. which to me are just so so different as products!!! instead of being fully handmade they are all being professionally bound by an outside company, often come with stickers/keychains/other perks that are 3rd party manufactured, etc... and to be clear i love these and have bought several, but!
they are to me kind of the antithesis of what the word "zine" should actually imply, in the traditional sense. a zine is something you make by hand and then photocopy for the dozen or so people in your circle. a zine can be just a single sheet of paper you folded up into 8 pages and scribbled on with pencil. they can get fancier than this but once you move from using a stapler (or if you're feeling fancy needle & thread) to needing to have things perfect bound & glued by a separate industry then!!!! we have moved up the sliding scale in terms of product, towards art/chapbook and away from zine. that's what those terms meant initially we just have... kept calling them zines anyway i guess, and now i think most younger people don't realize that the origins for "zines" were things you handmade and maybe snuck your school/work's photocopier to help produce for your friends. And they were made by one person, or maybe a small collab of 2-3. Once you start adding more artists/authors, and they're all making separate things (even if on a theme), now we have hit an anthology. you know?
because i would LOOOOVE fandom zines in the traditional sense of the word, just posting photos of short scrappy handmade art/comics and mailing them to mutuals for fun like you would a christmas card. idk. like i've made i think 8-10 personal little zines on all random topics in the past year just for fun and my friends, because they're rewarding and people LOVE getting something like that in the mail. they're little visual shitposts like "rating the 16 crayola crayons i found in my drawer" and "plants i have eaten while taking walks in the desert" and it would be really fun to have fandom equivalents of those too... but fandom these days has moved away from silly rough stuff towards everything being really polished + professional and it takes some of the charm out of it i think
#ramblings#zines#like i think we should just all get silly again. and care less about the end product of our art#experience over result etc etc etc im not gonna get into it this is soapboxy enough#like my beds rating post. that should be a zine in terms of energy/silliness. that sort of thing#ok yes actually this is about. i saw a post called 'what is a zine' and it did NOT describe zines a la their rich history in subculture and#implied they are only things that have to be big projects with many people and lots of organization and planning#thats not a zine!!!! that breaks my heart :(#fandom
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lore olympus' brand of feminism is like if the credits for Mean Girls immediately rolled credits after the line "and that's how Regina George died"
#no fr the movie that is literally called MEAN GIRLS is more sympathetic to all the girls by the end#all of them get their happy ending regardless of the audience's feelings towards them#many of them aren't friends anymore but it's shown as a GOOD thing because now they're being their best selves#you're telling me mean girls was mature enough to give a happy ending to queen bee regina george#but the 'happy ending' in LO was that all the girls who were ever mean to persephone were stomped under her heel#and now she's the rich queen and they're all lower class delusional losers who are just soooo jealous they can't have what she has#give me a break fr#lore olympus critical#anti lore olympus#lo critical
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