#minority positivity

[teacup-captor]

I LOVE MINORITIES <3 IF YOU ARE PART OF ANY MINORITIES I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUU <3<<33333

[thisismisogynoir]

I love it when women hate men. I love it when women are allowed to vent to each other about how horrible and creepy men are. I love it when women form friendships with and prioritize each other over relationships with men(whether they're attracted to them or not). I love it when women put men dni in their bios and on their nude photos and on posts on their blogs. I love it when women refuse to mollycoddle and accommodate entitled male feelings with "but this doesn't mean I hate all men, I know a few men who are great, I love my father/sons/brothers/uncles/male cousins/guy friends" I love it when women complain about men WITHOUT "not all men" being a disclaimer. I love it when women avoid socializing with/refuse to be around/befriend/get close to men because they know men can't be trusted. I love it when women make "kill all men" jokes. I love it when women offer absolutely no concern or care for men's feelings and if their misandry offends men whatsoever because why should we, men are the oppressor class who have raped and killed and abused us and kept us as subjugated as second-class citizens for millennia, they regularly mistreat us and the women in their own marginalized communities still every single day and make this world so much harder and more awful for us to be in, and if we choose to hate them and not spare them any sympathy then so be it, and I don't just mean "men as a class" either, you can be a woman who doesn't want to have anything to do with any man on an individual basis and completely cuts off men from her personal life too and ykw I will love and fucking support you in that because men deserve absolutely NOTHING from us. If they're so tough and strong then they can handle it just like they can handle being lonely. If you are a woman who hates men, ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE A LESBIAN AND/OR A TRANS WOMAN, then just know that I love you. I love you, I support you, and you are safe here.

[therapyforblackgirls]

In observance of Minority Mental Health Month, Therapy for Black Girls and The Holding Space Foundation are teaming up to host a series of online events to explore the ways in which Black women of various generations connect, foster friendships, and evolve together through the campaign, Generations of Sisterhood.

TBG is excited to partner with Tumblr, streaming this event live just for you! Join Dr. Joy Harden Bradford and Dr. Lakeysha (Key) Hallmon, July 26th @ 7PM EST for a powerful keynote event conversation on the power of Sisterhood.

Grab Your FREE Registration Link Here : therapyforblackgirls.com/gos

[forestgrey19]

okay but how do i get me the kind of ace-coded intimacy that aziraphale and crowley have? the kind of queer relationship where you can feel close and share a bond through holding hands, sharing fine meals, and enjoying walks in the sunshine together? where you can spend hours in their presence doing nothing together, but still feel loved?

[annabelle--cane]

I really don't think the majority of kids online are overwhelmingly sex negative or puritanical, I instead think that most kids who don't think like that probably aren't going to be posting about sex positivity on public accounts with their real ages listed. for very obvious reasons.

[alice-steel]

My only problem with Nimona is that nobody warned me that it had a bittersweet/tragic ending. I absolutely love how blatantly queer it is and how well it explains dysphoria and even how clearly it shows the way society treats trans people today through allegory. (I think I used that word correctly.)

I just wasn't expecting/wanting to cry last night...

[looking-for-orion]

I went to the screening.

(No spoilers I pinky promise)

Remember when Alex says: "...Alex thinks his heart’s going to break trying to hold the size of this entire moment, the completeness of it, a thousand years of history swelling inside his rib cage."?

Yeah. That pretty much sums it up.

Taylor Zakhar Perez is the PERFECT Alex. There is no debate. He absolutely freaking nailed it.

And Nick, oh my god. I completely agree with Matthew when he said that Nick took care of Henry, and brought so much dignity and vulnerability to him.

It was absolutely brilliant. Different vibe? Yes. Of course. It's a different art medium. But it was so beautiful

Eternally grateful ❤️🤍💙

[sals-fluttershy]

I hope the proshipper reading this has a nice day!

[yourprettyfemme]

Reasons we should stop talking about bodies negatively in general:

You say you have weird nipples? Now I’m going to critically look at mine in the mirror and pick out everything I hate about them

My mom says she hated something about her body? Am I gonna hate that when I get older? We’re so similar.

All bodies are good bodies. Why does anything have to be wrong about them?

[deoidesign]

drawing my favorite sculpture but it's my guy

(Barberini Faun)

[bonefall]

I'd absolutely love to see a hearing disabilities herb guide!

I'm deaf in one ear, so now I'm curious if there are any cats in the rewrite like me? I imagine they might avoid Gatherings because HEARING IN CROWDS UGH.

I need to pick a bunch actually! At some point, I plan to just toss more sight, smell, and hearing disabilities onto the various cats. It should be SUPER common, actually.

Especially in RiverClan.

Like... when I get around to these, RiverClan is going to keep coming up as having a notably higher proportion of deafness and scentlessness. Rivers are filthy. Their ears and snouts are going to be dunked full of gunk ALL the time, they develop a ton of infections. I'm guesstimating that around 15% of RiverClan should have some degree of hearing and/or scent loss, especially as they get older.

Also; Clan cats should be protecting their noses like tools. The same way that you might get scolded for misusing gym equipment, mentors should be chiding their apprentices for doing things like;

Sticking their noses in mud or snow

Eating food that is too hot (damage to the Jacobson's organ)

Sniffing ripe puffballs or other spore-forming mushrooms

Hanging out in dusty dens or unclean, musty spaces (this one wouldn't actually do anything bad, just makes a good superstition.)

But anyway! That's SCENT loss, which should be a waaaaaay bigger disability for Clan cats, but in humans we just don't really take as seriously. In WC, blindness should not have the same weight and scentloss should be a lot heavier.

For hearing loss in one ear, so far, there's just Strikestone, who canonically can't hear out of one of his ears. I will be casually throwing this onto more cats.

[van1llam1lkk]

Kinktober week 2 — Virgins

[ nsfw | CW ; First time, missionary, praise, body worship, Size difference, mentions of breeding, cream pie, pussy drunk, light overstim, Oral(F receiving), themes of making it fit, cock warming at the end, Dubcon(just in case) ]

Male x Female Reader

a/n ; I've been going through brain rot about sweet ol' virgins with big dicks... which is really the only excuse as to why Fujio exists now.

wc ; 2.1k

Synopsis — Loosing your virginity to your equally inexperienced big dick boyfriend... That's it.

Your fingers smooth over the ivory silk, tips tickled by the fine threads, "You don't think it's..." You trail off into a unfinished question eyes flickering over to his.

He stays silent for the most part, gingerly grabbing your hands and stopping them from running over the wrinkles in the fabric in favor of pulling them above your head.

"We can probably still trade it back in—" You continue on, nervously squirming under his intense gaze.

"No... You look pretty in this." He mumbles softly, "And it's only fair to dress you up like a princess, right?" He asked, tilting his head. You hesitantly nod, trying to relax your body.

He looked so pretty from this angle, pinning you against the soft mattress, observant eyes undressing you. It was a little unnerving honesty, Fujio wasn't the type of person to be this... Quiet.

But considering this was your first time, with each other. With him it makes some sense as to how serious he is being.

A soft warm kiss is planted against your temple, letting his weight settle in between your legs. "I can't believe this is all for me." He whispers, a shaky quiver entering his words.

Large hands wonder down your body, playing with frills and squeezing at anything they could get on- Chest, hips, thighs.

A strained whimper escapes your lips as his hands trailed down your body, the soft touch of his fingers as they explored your curves making you shiver.

You swear— with how hard your heart heart is pounding you might have a heart attack.

He leans down, soft lips pressing up against yours. Even with his position you can still feel how anxious he is, carful with every movement as if you you'd break if he made one wrong move.

You lean into the kiss, it's different gentle and passionate. Only familiar to the many nights you two spent grinding against each other eager for one's warmth.

Your hands entangled themselves into his long black hair, lightly tugging on the strands until a soft groan escapes into the kiss.

His hands worm their way in between your thighs teasing your clit beneath the ivory colored silk. Applying only the bare minimum of pressure to get you whimpering into the kiss- whimpers that he greedily eats up.

Eventually he pulls away, panting heavily. Gaze lingering on your face before looking down at your sex where his hand was busy teasing.

Thumb swiping over your sensitive nub. Lust filled eyes admiring how your panties started dampening. "Your so pretty." He breathes out in a sigh, letting his free hand come down to hold your squirming hips still.

You blush, shifting your gaze away from his intense stare in favor of looking at the ceiling. "N-Not as pretty as you." You stammer out, unable to think straight with the how frustrated your getting with the minimal pressure he's using — Enough to have you whimpering and shuddering but nowhere near enough to bring you to the edge.

His thumb continues stroking you, a small smile adorning his lips at how impatient you're getting. "You are." He whispers, leaning down to kiss your form.

Small, light kisses that he placed down against your neck, collar bones, breasts, all of them just a little too close to your chest to be considered "decent".

"Fujio..." You breath out, his last kiss was placed directly on top of your cunt.

"May I?" He hesitantly asks eyes fixated on the twitches of your pussy beneath the damp material.

You bite your lip, hesitating for the briefest of moments before nodding your head.

"Oh, you don't know how long I've been waiting to taste you." He quickly says voice shaky with anticipation, leaning in to give your clit a slow, teasing lick.

A pleasant sigh escapes your lips from the warm sensation of his tongue. Shifting your position so your legs were sat atop his shoulders. The sensation was more pleasant than you thought, his tongue warm and wet with saliva.

Your hands find his way through his hair again, whimpering at his experimental licks and sucks, His eyes staring up at your face to see what made your already faltering composure crumble more.

If your eyes hadn't fluttered shut you could've seen the way his hips seemed to grind against the mattress, chasing some kind of simulation in its tight confines.

It wasn't long until he found a pace, mouth latched onto your pussy— Staining the already wet panties with spit.

" F-fuck Fujio~" You whimpered, already shut eyes squeezing together. "Please— please don't stop." You stammered out, thighs twitching around his head.

He moaned into your pussy, his own hips mindlessly humping into the mattress. Fingers digging into the fat of your hip pulling it deeper into his face.

You swallow thickly, the hand in his hair tightening into a fist while the other grabs at the blankets beneath you.

"Close— m' so close fuck." You warned trying to keep your thighs from squeezing shut and suffocating him.

With a brief moment of hesitation he pulls his mouth off of your cunt, A wet 'pop' sound following.

Your glossy eyes fluttered open, a confused, frustrated whine escaping you as you rub your knees together. Trying to keep that orgasm from slipping away but it had already disappeared.

"M' so sorry baby, I— I just wanna feel you come on m' cock." He panted heavily, shoving his pants down just enough to free his already leaking cock.

"You— you can do that for me right? Yeah, I know you can." He quickly said, his own composure slipping because he finally gets to feel you around him, pussy fluttering and clenching because of him.

Giving himself a few good strokes to smear the pre along his length.

You eyes slightly widen at the size, you're not sure what's different about now compared to the steamy nights you two would hump each other— Maybe because unlike those other times he's actually going to fuck you.

"I don't think it'll fit—" You say under your breath, eyeing the tip. Could he even fit the tip in?

You know it's just the virgins anxiety getting to you, but why did God decide to make his dick look so big?

"It'll fit, I'll make it fit if I have to." He says, leaning down to kiss you again. "I'll just take it slow alright darling?" He adds a moment later.

You hesitantly nod your head, opening your legs so he's able to slot himself in between.

He leans over you, hands slowly reaching up to pull your panties down your legs and You obediently kick them off. Trying to keep your mind off of the heavy thumping of your heart or the increasing anxiety.

It's a little funny seeing his own eyes widening at the sight of your glistening pussy, a smile he's clearly trying to fight off forming onto his face.

"Your so pretty like this." He whispered, placing a hand right next to your head with the other one slapping the tip of his cock against your clit.

Savouring the way your hips tried squirming into the sensation.

He carefully pushes the tip against your entrance. A little frown forming on his face when it slipped past for the third time, a sigh of content leaving him when your own hand goes down and guides his length into you.

Just the head was enough to make you want to weep at the overwhelming feeling of something big inside you.

"Shit—" You cursed, squeezing your tear-filled eyes shut.

"Relax baby" he panted, slowly sinking into you pretty little whimpers and praise spilling from his lips.

He bit at his lips the second he bottomed out, "Fuck, you're so tight-" he whimpered, peppering your face with kisses. "oh I' feel like m' gonna cum already." He slurred out. You can feel him trembling, it's not from coldness but from the effort he's putting into not thrusting his hips.

"Tell- tell me when I can move." He huffed out, holding your hips closely up to his pelvis.

The two of you stay in that position for what felt like eternity, bodies closely pressed up against each other, breathing in each other's heavy pants. "I love you, I love you so much." You whispered wrapping legs around his waist.

"I love you too, I love you so so much— you're perfect, everything I ever could want and more" He rambled trying to stay focused on how pretty you look right now.

Glossy eyes staring lovingly at him, it's enough to have his cock twitching inside of you.

You swallow thickly, running fingers through his hair. Though a part of you wants to stay like this forever— There was a primal part that was starting become overwhelming, focusing on how nicely he stretched you out, how good it must feel when he drags his dick along those gooey, tender spots that has your toes curling and eyes rolling back in pleasure.

And those thoughts are starting to feel more appealing by the second, with a shaky exhale you whisper a meek

"M' ready—" Oh but before you could even let the last word leave your mouth he's already pulling out of you, till only his tip remained in before snapping his hips forward.

Greedy hands holding your hips tightly, to keep you in place as he fucked into you. "Thank— thank you." He says in between pretty gasps and groans, he wasn't even doing anything special. But with how thick he was, it grinded against everything just right, blunt head hitting spots you didn't even knew existed inside of you.

His eyes eagerly fixated on the way he seemed to sink and pull out of you so easily when just a moment ago he needed help getting it inside you in the first place.

"Haaa, please don't stop—" You whined, fingers tightening their grip on the blankets.

You can't tell whether it' feels amazing or agonizing, the way it feels like he's forcing space inside of you- bullying into your pussy with each heavy thrust of his hips.

"Shit oh, I can't— not now don't wanna cum now." He cursed under his breath, leaning his weight into you to fuck deeper.

That was all it took before your brain was short-circuiting, mindless pleas' and babbles spilling from your lips. Legs tightly wrapped around his waist, wanting more.

A shaky hands move over to your clit, rubbing sticky circles and shapes all over it. "Can— Can you cum on my dick for me? I know you can, you'll be a good girl for me right?" He babbled, equally as fucked out as you— which is saying something.

Wet squelching sounds ringing through the air everytime his hips made contact, slick and precum wetting the creaky bed beneath the two of you.

Your eyes fall shut, head lolling to the side. "Fu—fuck, you feel so good." You panted out, unable to form words properly any longer.

"Shit shit shit shit— m' gonna breed you, stuff you full of my cum" Hissing out as his thrusts turn sloppy, sloppy for his standards.

He held your hips in place as he let out a primal grunt, your fluttering hole being filled white with his cum.

Following his orgasm you came undone, the fullness pushing you over the edge as you mindlessly pleaded for more and moaned.

Loud wet slapping sounds resounding through the whole room, thick, sticky pearly whites leaking from his cock and spilling out beneath you, getting onto your thighs with each twitch.

His hips absentmindedly humped into you, fucking his cum deeper into you despite the overwhelming simulation.

"Fuck, I can feel it, I can feel everything" you whimpered out, fingers digging into the blanket beneath you.

He stays like that for a moment, heavily panting against your neck. Hands that kept your hips glued to his pelvis squeezing supportively.

You whimper softly, squirming beneath his weight. "Your squishing me..." You complain trying to push him off with little to no avail. You were about to complain more but he'd whisper something into your ear and though you're not entirely sure what he said, he sounded desperate.

"Mhmm what?" You mumbled internally cringing at the feeling of slick and cum oozing out of your hole.

"I love you." He whispered out, body already succumbing to sleep.

You stay silent for a moment a little smile on your face "I love you too." You whisper, fluttering your eyes shut for a moment. "Fujio you didn't fall asleep did you? You're still on top and inside of me." You asked, squeezing his shoulders lightly.

You never got that answer out of him. His soft breaths tickling your neck, You look up at the ceiling and let your mind fade, his soft breaths lulling you to sleep.

[therapyforblackgirls]

10 Things To Remember if You're Chronically Overwhelmed

Feeling chronically overwhelmed may be a trauma response. Trauma activates the flight or fight response in our bodies. This activation engages the sympathetic nervous system. Sympathetic nervous system activation releases stress hormones like cortisol and epinephrine. In the presence of danger, these hormones help us survive. When danger is not present, these hormones can cause you to feel overwhelmed and can lead to physical symptoms of stress to include increased heart rate, sweating and digestive issues. After experiencing trauma, it is possible that your sympathetic nervous system may be hyperactivated. This hyperactivation may culminate in chronically feeling stressed, on edge, hypervigilant, jumpy or on guard. It may be difficult to relax. The good news is that you can reset a hyperactivated nervous system through trauma healing. 

Continue Reading

[misconceptionmistress]

The Top Gun squad and their favorite sex positions:

MINORS DNI. 18+ content w/ links to visuals. NSFW.

Don’t click the hyperlinks if you don’t want visuals

Bob: Outdoors. This man is an adrenaline junkie or he wouldn’t be flying around in jets. Position doesn't matter too much to him, but Bob loves having sex with you outdoors, especially on the deck at your cabin where you can both shout as loud as you want into the woods.

Coyote: Girl on top. He wants it hard and fast and likes when you’re controlling that. Javy wants to spank you and tell you that you take him so well while you bounce on top of him.

Fanboy: Girl on top. But sensual. He loves being able to look in your eyes and caress your breasts while you slowly ride him. Mickey is all about connecting with you and making love over just fucking.

Hangman: Reverse Cowgirl. Firstly, that man has a southern drawl that sneaks out so you know he likes cowgirls. Secondly, I really just think Jake is an ass man.

Payback: Spread Eagle. He loves getting as deep as he possibly can and spreading your legs out helps him do that. Reuben just wants to assure you’re both feeling good while he buries himself in you.

Phoenix: Cunnilingus. Nat doesn’t care how it happens, she just wants her tongue buried in you until you’re screaming her name. She prefers you sitting on her face, but she’s not complaining about other options.

Rooster: Doggy Style. Bradley loves being behind you. He’ll bend you over whatever surface he can or get you face down on the bed for a good fuck and some spanking. He enjoys the feeling of being over you controlling your orgasm.

[nightfang22]

Okay so unpopular opinion (maybe?) but I am so in love with the way the creepypasta fandom has evolved from uwu soft baby boi to like cold blooded killers who truthfully portray their disorders and issues.I’ve seen lots of people talk about how it glorifies abuse but I don’t think that’s true.Like these characters were designed to act this way.We’re just sticking to the script now.I think it also helps people who have said disorders who are also in the fandom.

[abiiors]

under the mistletoe 🎄// ross macdonald x reader (pt 2 of 2)

twelve days of christmas - day 3

a/n: best friends to lovers? no. it's idiots to lovers. this is also part 2 of secret santa cw: kissing, alcohol, very tame and cheesy. there might be typos... wc: 3k

a cheer cuts through the chatter in the room and ross finds himself standing under a mistletoe, liv first in his arms, then standing on her toes and then they’re kissing—sweet, long kisses that make him smile despite the butterflies in his stomach. 

butterflies that should have been a result of the kiss. instead, it feels more like a swarm of bees buzzing in his chest from anticipation. 

ross doesn’t expect to be this nervous. more than that, he doesn’t expect to pull away from the kiss before she does. even when liv looks at him with slight concern. 

he certainly doesn’t expect himself to be so hung up on secret santa. he has bought plenty of gifts for people he cares about before! good ones too; sure, he’s no pro at gift giving but he’s not entirely hopeless. but this time he simply cannot afford to mess up. not when it took him two turns to get the name he really wanted. 

everyone looks festive in some shade of red or green on white—and one silver but charli really pulls it off. liv has a beautiful green velvet dress on, her curly hair piled on top of her head and gold hoops dangling from her ears. liv looks stunning!

it’s her that really takes his breath away—the girl who’s been his best friend for over a decade now. the girl who now stares at him with a tight smile on her face, cheering almost on autopilot with the rest of his friends. she’s in a classic red slip dress and matching red lipstick that contrasts her skin so perfectly that ross almost feels guilty for staring at her longer than necessary. he’s right next to his girlfriend for fucks sake. he needs to focus!

the excitement in the room is off the charts! everyone’s buzzing to get to the main event—the secret santa gifts—and he feels a tiny pit of nervousness at the centre of all his enthusiasm. what if she doesn’t like his gift? what if it’s something she already has or something that’s too personal… too intimate. 

liv breaks his little spiral. 

“you alright?” she slides onto his lap with an easy smile and pecks him softly. 

“yeah, just excited about the gifts! i wonder who got my name.” even with her on his thigh ross can’t stop his knee from bouncing up and down. the weird mixture of anticipation and butterflies is something he’s rarely felt before—not since… well not since her last birthday when he’d gotten her two tickets to the play she’d been dying to go to. 

(if he’s being honest it was not since she’d asked him if he’d like to go with her.)

“me too!” liv beams and it’s as if that’s matty’s cue to announce that they can all finally, finally move to the living room.

the living room is adorned with twinkling lights and tinsel, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere. a decently sized pile of gifts sits under the pretty tree—the current object of everyone’s interest. his nervousness aside, ross feels as giddy as the others do, still like a child on christmas morning about to get the long anticipated pokemon card collection. 

matty gets to the pile and starts calling out names one after the other. 

ross is barely even listening—his mind races with a million different possibilities. what if it’s a shit gift? what if she doesn’t like it or has something similar or doesn’t get the significance of it?

what if she thinks he put no thought into it?

he’s barely even listening when polly coos over the “cutest jumper ever!” or when george cackles over his gag gift or when matty almost goes misty eyed over the vintage book. 

he only snaps out of it when matty calls out her name and envelopes her in a hug. 

“it’s perfect,” he sniffles and ross burns with envy.

not envious of matty. never envious of matty but… a tiny, irrational part of him wishes she were his secret santa instead. that she spent days thinking about him, obsessing over finding the perfect gift just like he had. 

that maybe she spent her nights in bed, wondering a thousand times over if her gift would make him smile (it would, ross thinks. she could get him a £10 bottle of wine and he would still cherish it dearly.)

“ross!” matty calls out and he startles a little. 

matty looks at him with a slightly puzzled expression and wiggles a neatly wrapped gift in front of him. it’s square and thin with a small note attached to it.

he recognises it instantly—a handwriting he’s only recently come to know as liv’s. 

liv. his girlfriend. his secret santa. 

and he’s an awful, awful boyfriend for the feeling of disappointment that rises in him.

his fingers move deftly, tearing apart the wrapping paper until the gift inside becomes visible. the first thing he registers is the word “untitled” printed front and centre in big bold letters. and below it: “divine connection: the last unreleased album”. it dawns on him slowly—the band, their band. the last album from their band. just his and hers. and on autopilot, his gaze snaps up to her.

“ross?”

for the second time that evening liv’s voice cuts through his spiral and he turns around to see her standing at the door to the balcony with a half-drunk champagne flute in her hands. she’s beautiful, he thinks. she’s always been stunning but his heart doesn’t skip a beat when he looks at her. 

“can we talk?” she walks in and stands next to him, shoulders brushing with his. it’s a cold night. it’s silly being outside but he’s in a weird mood. he even kinda prefers it here. 

“yeah of course,” he clears his throat and tries to appear casual. 

“did you like your gift?”

“i did. it was… it was perfect.” at least that much is true. at least that much he can say with 100% certainty. “thank you. really, i mean it.”

“i know you do.”

for a minute she doesn’t say anything but her eyes roam over his face—a scruitinising sort of a look that makes him want to shy away. she’s never been particularly intense but in the few weeks he’s known liv, she’s had a way of guessing his little tells. it takes everything in him to not look away. 

still, he closes his eyes for a minute. 

the scene is still so fresh in his mind—ross opening the gift and looking up. ross staring at her and not liv. ross murmuring “thank you. it’s perfect.” and smiling at her before he even remembered that the gift was supposed to be from liv. 

ross only looks at her, his best friend. and she can’t seem to meet his gaze. 

liv clears her throat and brings him back to the present. she takes another swig of her champagne and offers him the glass. ross studies her lipstick smudge on the rim and accepts the drink gratefully. 

“you’re in love with her, aren’t you?” 

a second sooner and he would have choked on the drink or done a spit-take like a fucking idiot but the question leaves him so speechless that he almost drops the glass. 

“who?”

“don’t play dumb now.” her tone’s a bit sharp but her words aren’t unkind and the thought of being scolded like that makes him blush slightly and straighten up. 

he’s about to speak when she continues. 

“i see how you look at her—how you looked at her when you opened the gift i gave you. you knew it wasn’t from me didn’t you?”

wordlessly, he nods his head. 

“you knew i didn’t think of it. you were right though. i didn’t. i went to her because she’s you best friend.”

“and she told you about the band?”

liv clicks her tongue. “she handed me the record. turns out she had you for secret santa before we picked the names again.”

“oh…”

there’s another beat of loaded silence in which he struggles to maintain eye contact with her and not feel like an utterly shit boyfriend. 

“liv i—”

“i know,” she smiles briefly. “but you can’t string me along, babe. look i like you a lot. i really do and i know… i know you told me you were trying to move on from someone but i assumed that was a past relationship. i didn’t realise you were talking about…your best friend.”

“i’m sorry,” he shakes his head. “i really am. i know that was shitty of me.”

“it was a little.”

none of them speak for a few minutes. ross looks at her champagne again, wishing he’d had a drink with him for this conversation. or maybe not—maybe a clearer head is what he needs. he is getting dumped, after all. 

and yet… there’s no sadness. just a faint sense of disappointment. 

“so this is it i guess?”

in one gulp liv finishes the rest of her champagne and nods. “yeah. this is it. for what it’s worth ross… i have no hard feelings.”

this time when she smiles at him, it’s open and sincere. much to his relief, it’s friendly. liv stands on her toes and presses a kiss to his cheek. it’s chaste and quick—a goodbye, one that he returns by hugging her tightly. 

liv pauses at the threshold just as she’s leaving. 

“why don’t you tell her?”

ross shakes his head in disappointment and feels the familiar ache settle bone deep. the night suddenly seems so much colder than before—no longer the cosy kind that makes you want to snuggle up with a loved one. this feels sharp and biting. 

“can’t,” he shrugs, “i don’t want to ruin years’ worth of friendship.”

he expects liv to understand that. it’s a perfectly normal sentiment—to love someone enough that you’d rather have some of them than none of them. but she just shakes her head at him. 

“wow…” liv sighs, “for a man so smart… you really are fucking dumb.”

and then she leaves him on the balcony, shivering and confused. 

by the time he gets inside, there’s a lull in the party. everyone’s either drunk or loved up or both. well, maybe not everyone. 

ross finds her huddled in front of the fireplace, absently staring at her wrist. at the pearl bracelet he got for her.

a near-perfect match to her beloved pearl necklace from her grandmother.

the fire casts a warm, golden glow on her—on her hair and the curve of her shoulder, the hollow of her throat, and down her chest. he stands transfixed at the threshold, waiting for something to happen. 

maybe matty (passed out on the sofa) will wake up if he moves or polly might need something from him or george and charli might see them and he loves his friends but they have barely any concept of personal space after all these years. maybe he could just do it tomorrow when he’s not half-drunk, half-sober, and fully freaking out. 

“ross?”

too late to hide now. 

“why are you stood there? come on! it’s so cold!” she opens up her blanket cocoon—an invitation for him to join. 

ross, startled by her voice, stumbles into the room. his cheeks flush with embarrassment and he clears his throat, trying to mask the awkwardness that has suddenly enveloped him. 

fuck! she’s pretty. and yes he thinks that every single time he looks at her but it’s moments like these that really hit him like a gut punch. 

liv’s words echo in his mind over and over again. for a man so smart… you really are fucking dumb. was she trying to say what he thinks she was? or is he just delusional and projecting his own feelings onto her. 

her body is soft and warm when ross settles next to her, pulling her into his side and tucking her head under his chin. 

“you were deep in thought.” ross teases a bit, not ready to broach anything serious just yet. what he really wants to ask is about the record—how she’d somehow known his perfect gift before he figured it out himself. 

“just thinking about how good i am at gift giving,” she teases back. “matty was ecstatic.”

she's right but he can’t help but find a different meaning in her words. 

“that you are,” ross murmurs in her hair, resisting the urge to press a little kiss there. it’s too much for him—this intimacy. something like that might just tip him over the edge. 

for a while she doesn’t say anything and ross wonders if she’s fallen asleep. it’s quite late and they’re quite cosy, it won’t be the first time she's fallen asleep on him. maybe, if she is asleep, he might even press that kiss onto her head after all. 

“liv’s not here?” her voice breaks his train of thought. it’s not teasing anymore—she sounds neutral and controlled and… and like she’s trying not to pry. 

“we broke up.”

“what?!”

she almost shrieks and matty stirs slightly but goes back to sleeping again. ross feels guilty for just dumping it on her without any context. 

“i’m so sorry,” she says before he has a chance to speak. “fuck, at a christmas party too! that sucks, love. are you alright?”

“it wasn’t like that. it was…” this is it, he thinks. his one chance to get it right. “i’m perfectly fine. i’m… i’m better than fine. it’s… well she–you… fuck okay!”

he cheeks grow warm. it’s worse now that she’s properly looking at his now, her face a mixture of concern and curiosity; that she’s now an attentive audience to his pathetic flustered words. 

“let me…” he takes a big deep breath and squares his shoulders. “okay. let me get this right. for the next, i don’t know, two minutes, you aren’t allowed to speak, okay? okay. so! liv and i talked.” the skepticism on her face grows and ross tries not to let it deter him. “the gift, the record—”

“was it not good?”

“oi! no speaking, remember? two minutes.” ross scolds lightly and almost laughs at her sheepish face. “as i was saying, the record. it wasn’t her idea, was it? i asked her how she knew and she told me you gave it to her. for me! why didn’t you… why didn’t you give it to me yourself?”

for all her talking a moment ago, now she seems speechless. so much so that she can barely meet his eyes. 

“it was a lovely gift, darling. maybe even one of the best and… i just want to know why, that’s all.”

her cheeks flush a subtle shade of pink, and she fidgets with the edge of the blanket. “i guess i wanted you to have something meaningful without making things awkward. i’d already bought the gift and i didn't want to complicate our friendship with something that felt so… personal, especially with liv being in the picture. and…fuck! if that’s what made you break up, i’m so sorry, i—"

“it didn’t,” he cuts her off firmly. ross can’t help but notice the small details of her face then—the tiny smudges of mascara from no doubt when she sleepily rubbed her eyes, the glitter on her eyelids reflecting the firelight. her big, beautiful eyes and dilated pupils. 

her slightly smudged lipstick…

fuck, it’s the tiny lipstick smudge on the corner of her lips that makes him lose his ability to think straight.

“we broke up because… well there’s someone else,” he speaks in a low volume. subconsciously, she leans forward. 

“someone else?”

the room falls into a heavy silence, broken only by the crackling fire. she waits, her eyes searching his face for any sign that he's joking or playing some elaborate prank. but the sincerity in his expression leaves no room for doubt.

“you’re my best friend,” he says, “and fuck, do i resent that! how am i… darling, how am i meant to pretend you’re just my friend when you’re the fucking focal point of my world?”

her breath catches so audibly that it’s almost a gasp. he waits for her to say something. anything. instead she leans in an presses her lips to his. 

it’s so unsure at first, almost like she freezes and her brain can’t figure out where to go next. the kiss lingers, soft and tentative—both testing the waters of something uncharted. ross's mind races, trying to process the warmth of her lips against his, the subtle taste of her lipstick. 

she pulls away before he’s even had the chance to kiss her back and hides her face in his chest. 

“oh god, that was too soon, wasn’t it! that was–you just broke up and i—”

“love, don't hide your face, don't…” his hands gently cup her flushed face, making her look up at him once again even when she can barely meet his eyes and in that moment he realises he’s never seen someone so beautiful. 

so this time when ross crashes his lips against hers, he makes sure to pull her closer. to hold onto her tightly. his arms are around her, her hands in his hair and oh she fits so perfectly in the crevices of his body. like a perfect puzzle piece. 

by the time they finally pull apart, slightly breathless and grinning uncontrollably, ross hears her giggle. 

“wow, that was my first kiss under a mistletoe…”

“we aren’t—”

“i know, but we’re next to one so it’s almost the same.”

he looks to where she’s pointing, to the little bunch tied above the fireplace. 

“we could do better, darling.”

“yeah?”

“mm-hmm,” he murmurs, stealing another quick kiss from her. “let me take you home.”

and she agrees in a heartbeat.

lemme know what you think <33

taglist: @scooby-doodoo @partoftheairforce @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855 @beachesgetpeaches @you-muppet @mcabister @alexmarie29 @at-her-very-foreign @hfkait @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername @celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars @sofaritsalrightt @k4tie75 @wondersecret @humptyhoran @indierockgirrl @hanbiior @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @rossgirly @if-my-heart-bleeds @little-lovely-darling @abriefnirvana @renitypoem

add yourself to the taglist