#watermelon primary

[scryingworkshop]

[gojoest]

i honestly don’t know what i’ll do once the watermelon season is over, or when jjk ends

[fantastic-fr-scries]

Aberration Female

Garnet / Watermelon / Moon , Diamond / Peregrine / Polkadot

Earth Swirl

[gaolerdeathmetal]

not wild about these colors, if anyone's up for trading aethers HMU

id's 84960113 and 84960097

[volinare]

i had a dream i got burned alive on the street by a cop with a flamethrower

[rusted-phone-calls]

i miss primary

[ocean-sunfish-hater]

Straight Out of the Colonial Playbook:

The Myth of Untouched Lands

The Jewish National Fund (JNF) is an organisation with charity status all across the world. Many people know them as the people who use their little blue boxes to collect money to plant trees. They seem to be doing well to reach their goals, having planted over 250 million trees since 1901. All this seems pretty innocuous, perhaps even noble. After all, the idea of planting trees seems quite divorced from violent settler colonialism.

ID: A large slice of watermelon. You can see the Red of the flesh, the black of the seeds, and the white and green of the rind. It is set against a light teal background, a colour that may invoke peace and calm, much like a free Palestine would.

But the two have long, intertwined histories. Just look to the National Parks of the US, used to grab land from Native Americans with the justification that they were "uninhabited". Colonisation of the Arabian peninsula was partially justified with the argument that native Arabs had degraded the environment to the point of desertification,  and colonial rule was the only way they could be saved from themselves [1]. Unsurprisingly, most of the ecological damage in that region had been done by the colonialists themselves in the pursuit of resources.

The JNF isn't just some minor organisation that has unfortunate ties to questionable powers. Though they shroud themselves in the soft words of environmentalism,  they currently stand as one of the primary tools of violence for Zionism.

Established in 1901 by the 5th Zionist Congress in Basel, Switzerland, they have always been an organisation with settler colonial intentions. In 1940, their leader Yosef Weitz, said “There is no way but to transfer the Arabs from [Palestine] to the neighbouring countries, to transfer all of them… not one village must be left… for this goal funds will be found." [2]. You know what happened to him after the first Nakba? He became the head of the JNF's forestry department [3].

According to their own website, they currently stand as the "single largest provider of Zionist programs in the U.S." [4]. They also own about 13% of all state lands in Israel [5]. They have been both a major driver, and unsurprisingly, benefactor from the ongoing Nakba of the Palestinian people.

So how exactly does planting trees feed into settler colonialism? The model works like this:

The Israeli government violently displaces people from their lands in the name of "self-defence".

The land becomes "uninhabited".

The JNF uses funds they have accrued from overseas donations to buy up the land.

They establish a national park in the area and begin to plant trees.

Settlers move into the surrounding regions. The JNF have a policy of not leasing land or accommodation to non-Jewish people [5].

Any remigration of indigenous people back into those lands is framed as "environmental destruction" and those people are forced out once more.

You know what's sneaky? They are using trees as bodies. They don’t have enough people to colonise all the land they've stolen, so they plant trees to occupy the spaces that human bodies cannot. They deliberately use fast growing trees like pines to aid in this pursuit [3]. Each forest acts as an occupying force, just one that uses seeds instead of bullets and trees instead of soldiers.

Most of their efforts are concentrated on Naqab (Negev in Hebrew), a region in the south of Israel mostly consisting of desert. On their website, the JNF boast of their Blueprint Negev initiative, and how it's "transformed Israel’s Negev Desert, making the Southern Israel an attractive place to live and work" [4]. Their mission statement in the Naqab includes the justification that they are providing homes, jobs and opportunities in the "empty" region [6]. One of the slogans have on their website is "Building the Negev, town by town"[6]. This is explicitly a settler colonial project, and all of it can be found on JNF website, in their own words.

And to top it all off, you guessed it, the Naqab is far from uninhabited. It was never empty land. In August 2018, 350 villagers from Umm al-Hiran were displaced to the state-regulated Bedouin township, Hura to accommodate the expansion of the Beit Yatir settlement in the Yatir forest, which was planted by the JNF [5]. In 2010, Nuri-al-Uqbi presented evidence that his ancestors had owned and lived in the lands of al-Araqib since before the Israeli occupation to the courts. In 2010, a Beersheva judge rejected the case, siding with the government's claims that his tribe had no ownership claims on the land [7]. The indigenous peoples of Palestine are constantly disenfranchised, displaced, and have very little means of winning their land back within an Apartheid legal system.

The JNF are using strategies employed by colonial powers in the past to violently seize land from native peoples. Acting under the guise of environmentalism "launders" the colonisation, adding extra steps in between the expulsion of people from their homes and the eventual settlement of that land by colonists, with the added bonus of making the JNF look very good. And you know what? Their reforestation schemes suck. Fast growing, new growth forests in the DESERT are not a substitute for old growth forests, not to mention the enormous amount of water they must be using to keep these forests as, well, forests.

What boils my blood the most is that you can see them honouring their colonial inspirations and sponsors in how they name their parks. Britannia park in the Hebron district obviously takes its name from Britain, a country instrumental in the establishment of the Israeli state and the Nakba that has ensued. Fittingly, it sits upon the ruins of seven Palestinian villages, destroyed by Israel during the first Nakba [8].

And this isn't just stuff that has happened in the past, but is happening right now. JNF UK is currently receiving donations to plant a memorial forest "to commemorate those who were brutally murdered on October 7." For £100, you can plant one tree. For £250, you can contribute to an outdoor seating area for group events. For £36, you can pay for an irrigation system that will provide enough water for one tree for four years [9]. Doesn't it make you angry? 36,000+ Palestinians have been murdered, and the JNF are collecting money to water trees on their graves.

I hate it when scientists stay neutral. We and our work are not divorced from the world around us. Conservation means nothing if it comes at the cost of human lives; it means nothing if it is used to veil the atrocities of colonialism and apartheid. It is our duty as conservationists, and as human beings to hear those whose voices carry cries for help, and answer the call. Do not be won over by the siren song of green colonialism.

Free Palestine. May all empires fall.

Bibliography

[1] Skandrani, Z., Decolonizing ecological research. Journal of Environmental Studies and Sciences, 2018. 8(3): p. 368-370.

[2] Stop the JNF, The JNF, Apartheid and Settler Colonialism. (Spring 2024). https://www.stopthejnf.org/the-jnf-apartheid-and-settler-colonialism-spring-2024/

 [3] Stop the JNF, Tower and Stockades, Forests and Jim Crow Vetting Commitees. https://www.stopthejnf.org/jnfs-sordid-history-tower-and-stockades-forests-and-jim-crow-vetting-committees-by-jonathan-cook/

[4] Jewish National Fund, We are JNF. https://www.jnf.org/menu-3/about-jnf

[5] Amnesty International, ISRAEL: APARTHEID IN ACTION. Amnesty international: submission to the 43rd session of the UPR working group, 9 May 2023.

[6] Jewish National Fund UK, Homepage, https://www.jnf.co.uk/

[7] Jonathan Cook, Bedouins defiant despite Israel eviction plan. https://www.jonathan-cook.net/2014-06-14/bedouins-defiant-despite-israel-eviction-plan/

[8] Palestine Land Society, Britannia Park - Burial and Treachery. https://www.plands.org/en/articles-speeches/articles/2022/britannia-park-burial-and-treachery

[9] Jewish National Fund UK, Green Sunday 2024 – Memorial Forest. https://israelunderattack.jnf.co.uk/projects/green-sunday-2024-memorial-forest/

[mossadspypigeon]

As a late comer to some of the nonsense, can you explain or point to something explaining what watermelons have to do with Palestine? Asking google "what the fuck do watermelons have to do with Palestine" was not a productive search. Where did that come from?

hello anon! yes indeed i can. this is gonna be a long post, so buckle in lmao.

so the main and simplified reason the watermelon is used (and i'll get into some more complex stuff and context because both are important to understand with this) is because red/black/green represent the PLO flag, which is known as the "palestinian flag."

now, i don't know if you know who the PLO are, so:

(this notice to include secondary sources is so faulty btw. this is based on primary sources written BY the plo, which removes bias of interpretation)

i recommend reading this wiki page at least and clicking on the sources for more information. it isn't as bad as some wikipedia pages and it can provide a good introduction.

now, the PLO is an internationally recognized terrorist org. it split into numerous factions, including yasser arafat's "fatah." fatah controlled groups like black september, which committed the munich massacre and also murdered the king of jordan.

the PLO itself has committed numerous acts of terror, including the hijacking of the Achille Lauro. terrorists who hijacked this ship shot and tossed a disabled jewish man in a wheelchair named Leon Klinghoffer overboard, etc. so no, they are not a resistance group. this act was sponsored and supported by arafat.

if you want to know more about their bullfuckery, which i recommend, read their charter here.

okay, now moving on to the flag:

you've probably noticed that the red/black/green/white thing is a motif used by several countries. this is because of "pan arabism."

rootsmetals did some good posts on arabization:

the specific colors have meanings, and those meanings are either religious or secular. the religious and secular connect though. let's take a look. i'm going to use arab sources without commentary on any biases:

on the other hand:

so. we know about the flag's history and its meaning. we know what it represents. now, let's go into the whole "watermelon" thing:

the reason it's used depends on who you ask. if you ask the pro palestine crowd, the watermelon is used in place of the "palestine flag" due to "censoring" and "silencing."

this goes back to the propaganda that israel banned the palestinian flag. israel DID NOT ban this flag legally, but it did have it taken down because...guess why? why would israel want the flag of the plo not flown? it's like flying a kkk flag in the usa, that's why.

yes, you have freedom of speech in israel, but it has its limits. those limits are hate and incendiary speech. the plo flag is a symbol of hate based on the charter and acts of the plo itself. also, fatah/the palestinian authority, which currently governs the palestinian section of the west bank/judea samaria and east jerusalem still pays terrorists who murder jews and israelis and are imprisoned. sooooo you can guess why the flag was taken down, but here is some of the propaganda:

the lack of sources in this article lmao.

again, hilarious lack of sources.

if you ask the pro israel crowd, it's an appropriation of a very zionist crop and a symbol of decolonization.

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if i find more sources on this, i will do another post.

but yes, the watermelon emoji is used because "the internet silences palestine," which is hysterical, considering google favors palestinian sources and most major news networks employ either palestinians or palestinian allied supporters.

and of course, tiktok and the rest of social media won't remove antisemitism, but will constantly ban jews and israelis. hence why finding sources on the jewish history of the watermelon is difficult.

anyway. hope this helps. <3 if you're comfy, definitely dm me sometime if you want to discuss things and/or get sources.

@matan4il do you happen to have any sources on the israeli/jewish/zionist history of the watermelon? if you do, it would be so appreciated.

[rat-king-co]

The Watermelon Set is here! You can enter a raffle for the chance to win this set, valued at $95, for only $5, with all proceeds donated to a good cause.🍉

1. Go to my link in bio, or ratkingco.onethousandrats.com/product/watermelon, and purchase a raffle ticket and busy bee digital planner for $5

2. In checkout, put your instagram, tumblr, or tiktok @ for extra entries

3. Reblog, or comment and tag a friend, for extra entries to the raffle

4. Raffle ends 15th Feb 2024, AEST. Digital goods are delivered within 48hrs, and necklace will be delivered as soon as raffle entries are tallied

🍉

All proceeds from the sale of tickets will be donated to the PCRF, a humanitarian organisation. According to their website, "PCRF is the primary humanitarian organization in Palestine, delivering crucial and life-saving medical relief and humanitarian aid where it is needed most".

🍉This is my most elaborate piece yet, containing 12 handmade glass lampwork beads and 6 natural Keshi pearls (freshwater naturally formed pearls) alongside red teardrop beads and 24K gold plated findings. This matching earring and necklace set would be valued at $95.

🍉Please note that there are no entries without a purchase of at least one $5 raffle ticket via my site. You may enter multiple times after this by either purchasing extra tickets or by tagging on or reblogging this post.

[f1bordeaux]

Somewhere | cl16

Somewhere, somehow, maybe his perfect reality is true. Maybe you're standing there next to him, in your farm house with your children. Warnings: Angsty. That's all. Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader; y/n only mentioned once Word count: 892 Poetry style | Story style (Could be either???)

Somewhere in his heart, there is a house.

It is small, tucked away in a familiar place that he cannot name. There are vines growing over the windowsills and trees crowding the yard but still, the sun finds a way in. It soaks into the floorboards, it paints the walls, it warms the rooms and it brightens the halls. When his feet-or hers-pass by, they feel the heat transfer into their soles. It reminds them that they are alive-that they are home.

Somewhere in his heart, there is a garden.

It is large, situated right next to the vine covered house that they inhabit. It has blueberries, strawberries, watermelon and pumpkins. Some mornings, when he is standing in front of the sink with a cup of coffee in his hand, he’ll look out the window and see her tending to her crops. She will be wearing a sun dress and gloves. She will be pulling away weeds, careful to include their roots when forcing them from the ground. He will watch as she replants them further away. “Why do you replant weeds?” He will ask when she finally retreats inside.

“They do not deserve to die just because they are unsightly.” She will answer.

Somewhere in his heart, there is a wedding.

It is lively, taking place near the weedless-garden that she constructed. There are people talking and laughing, there are friends and family members who they haven’t seen in decades. His mother and father sit next to his brothers. They all laugh as everyone waits for her to walk down the aisle. Cicadas hum songs of the summer, the sun descends over the forested skyline, fireflies dance through the sky as if it is their own personal ballroom. He will ignore all of these small things, however, when she comes into view. A tear will cascade down his cheek as he looks at his bride. Oh how beautiful she will be. He loves her in her sundress, he loves her in her wedding dress, and he loves her in his oversized t-shirts. His love for her will not change after they have wedded. And as he tells her this, her eyes widen.

“You don’t love me any more now that I’m your wife?”

He will shake his head. “I love you more than life itself, more than me, more than the air I breathe, more than the cars I drive. There is nothing left for me to love you more than. I love you as much as I can.”

She will smile as they lie in bed together that night, naked bodies reintroducing themselves as the Mr and Mrs. He will hold her close, running a hand through her hair. They will be in love, they will be happy.

Somewhere in his heart, there are children.

It is a new experience, both for him and her. They vary in ages, from a few months old to a couple years. They play and shout, laying out in the sun as though they were reptiles. When they break one of his trophies he begins to think maybe they are reptiles. They will grow quickly, sippy cups changing into glasses, baby food changing into takeout, primary school changing into high school. They will bring home friends, they will bring home tests with A’s and F’s. They will bring home stories that they will tell their children. They will come home and hug their parents. And one morning, when one of them is standing in front of the sink with a cup of chocolate milk in their hand, they will look out the window to see their mother and father both tending to the garden. Their mother will be wearing a sundress and gloves, their father will be wearing shorts and a farmer's hat. They will be pulling away weeds, careful to include their roots when forcing them from the ground. Their child will watch as they replant them further away. “Why do you replant weeds?” They will be asked when finally retreating inside.

“They do not deserve to die just because they are unsightly.” He will answer.

Somewhere in his heart, she is still alive.

She is replanting weeds and nursing their children. She is marrying him and spending nights intertwined under silk sheets with his body. She is still laughing, she is still crying. She is holding him after a bad race and telling him that no matter what, he will always be Charles in her eyes. She is still there, somewhere in his heart.

Somewhere in his heart, there is that perfect reality that he spends each night dreaming of. It's the one where they live in a farmhouse, they get married, they have three children-two boys and a girl-they live to be ninety five together. There was never a car crash in this perfect reality. She is still there, ensuring him that she always will be. He’s not struggling with every day and night, trying to find rhyme or reason to continue. He’s not debating on giving up his Formula One career in this perfect reality, either.

“I love you, y/n.” He said.

“I love you too, Charles. Even in death.”

And perhaps that was what was keeping him going. Even though she wasn’t there, she was still living somewhere within his heart promising that she wouldn’t be going anywhere.

[scryingworkshop]

[kitorin]

dear stranger.

in which, itoshi rin is terrible at keeping promises.

contents. itoshi rin x reader, hurt no comfort (just not from rin himself), childhood friends, unrequited feelings (implied), reader is a year older than rin, a bit of isagi x reader at the end, all word vomit it's past 1 am cut me some slack

a/n. kinda short since my recent fics were so long and i need a break (i have more planned anyways)

For as long as you can remember, Itoshi Rin has always been there.

You were two peas in a pod; inseparable, possessing a bond that no one could ever replicate. You've known each other since birth, and your mothers had been best friends even before you were born.

All four seasons and all year long, you were together. Winter was composed of snow fights, snoozing inside of a kotatsu, with a cup of hot chocolate. Gasping while pointing at the gorgeous cherry blossoms blooming in the spring, eagerly trying to catch the petals dancing with the wind. Splashing and kicking up water at the beach with each other, enjoying refreshing watermelon as you both bask within the warmth of the sunlight. Admiring the crimsons, saffron and golds of Autumn, giggling at the satisfying crunch of leaves lying on the pavement.

Playdates or sleepovers, either way you were both over the moon. Screaming with joy and playing together all day, later scheming to stay up all night to whisper each other every secret (all while making sure Sae sleeps undisturbed), only to pass out an hour or two later.

He's the reason why your childhood was so warm, overflowing with happy memories, the mere thought of him engulfing with you warmth.

You didn't go to the same preschools and daycares, yet you were still each other's bestfriend, and it was going to stay that way forever, if you did start primary a bit earlier than him.

"Mama what do you mean Rin won't come to school?!" The weather perfectly suited your mood, rain hammering against the roof and windows. Five year old you pouted, refusing to believe what you and his mother just announced. In protest you slammed the table, standing up.

"y/n, calm down. Rin's still going to primary as well. Just not at your school." Your mum orders you to sit down, and you obey reluctantly, as she continues throwing ingredients into the hot pot.

"But why?" A disappointed whine leaves your lips. "I want to learn more with Rinnie."

"It's okay." Rin's mother pats your hair, moving it out of your face to prevent it getting into your food. "You'll still be best friends, your mother and I didn't go to the same one either. We even grew up in different towns."

"But I want Rin at my school." Your mum sighs at how stubborn you were being.

"y/n I'll still be your bestfriend, I always will no matter what."

"But what if you find someone else." Your voice begins breaking, and your mother panics as she senses a mental breakdown, noticing early tears beginning to accumulate on your lash line.

Rin holds out his pinky. "I promise! We'll be together until we grow-, no, for the rest of our lives."

You intertwine his pinky with yours, it's so warm and soft, and his dedication makes you grin. "Promise! You're not allowed to break it."

"I swear on my life! You're not allowed to either." Both of you break out into a giggle, which earns a proud 'awwww' from your mothers, with hints of relief subtlety thanking Rin for preventing a mental breakdown from you.

That lunch had to be one of your favourites, Rin and his puppy eyes were adorable, even if his 'promise' lacked honesty and truth.

"Rin." No answer.

"Riiiin." Still no answer.

"Itoshiiii?"

He finally responds. "What?"

"Get off your phone. Talk to me." You frown, wondering what was so interesting that he'd avoid talking to you entirely, despite coming over to your house. So far all he did was remain seated in your chair, eyes focused onto the screen.

"No. It's important. 't's for an upcoming game." He doesn't even look away from his phone.

"Is it stressful? Do you want to talk about i-?"

"Shush."

You don't bother pushing the conversation, if he'd choose it over you it must've been a significant match. You spend the rest of your time reading a book, occasionally glancing at Rin.

Nothing happened.

"So, how's Rin?" Your mother asks before you sleep, doing one last check before heading to her room.

"He's good, really busy with soccer."

"You've been saying that all year. Is soccer all you talk about? What about school? Are his grades alright? How's he adapting to middle school?"

You open your mouth to answer, only to come to a horrible conclusion. You don't know. Rin's the boy you've spent over a decade with, the one who knows everything about you and you know everything about him.

Yet you can't say anything about him, aside for his dedication to soccer, which is something anyone could tell about him.

"Oh yeah! He gets along really well with his teammates, he's doing well." Before your mum suspects anything, you hastily lie, something that's not unrealistic nor concerning enough for your mother to feel the need to check. You force a yawn, hoping your mum stops asking and goes to sleep soon.

Your strategies work, as she quickly wishes you good night, leaving your room. Now you're free to start worrying.

'You've been saying that all year' now that you're finally taking it into consideration, she's right.

Because there's quite literally nothing else to tell her.

You're trying to count, trying to count how many hangouts resulted in him being glued to his phone, only stopping when your parents announce dinner.

Suddenly your lip's quivering, and anxiety blurs your vision as you feel tears gathering in your eyes.

It's still unknown to you why it's taken you forever to notice, but it's like a truck driving into you; heavy and brutal. Now that you've thought about it, you haven't properly hung out in forever, all he does is do something soccer related.

You understand having a passion. Not his cold treatment towards you, the one that was supposed to be his bestfriend.

It's just temporary, a middle school team can't even compare or come close. Rin's current behaviour was merely an attempt to adjust to middle school life, give it a year or two then you'll go back to laughing all day and building sandcastles.

"Seriously? She did that?" Rin's mum almost yells, shocked at the events recounted by your mother.

"Shhhh. Rin's sleeping."

"Poor thing... must be tired from training all the time."

You walk into the conversation halfway, blanket in hand, making your way to Rin's resting figure on the bean bag.

Gosh, he looks stunning.

His defined jaw, long eyelashes adorning his face, his bangs which rested right above his eyes, everything about him looked perfect, even if he was sleep. Even his lips look kissable in this state. You ignore that thought and carry on with what you were doing.

You're gentle and careful, ensuring you don't move the bean bag and draping your blanket over him. There's concern clouding your heart, the other day only his mum came over, apparently he had stayed home to sleep all day. You prayed his sleep schedule was okay, as you went to join your mum.

"C'mon eat more." Rin's mum smiles, she completely contrasts Rin, warm and welcoming. "Thank you for always being so nice to him. You're only a year old yet you're so much more mature. He's really lucky to have you."

If only Rin thought that. If only this 'friendship' continued because of him, instead of the close friendship between your mothers.

Your attempts to figure out what happened were fruitless, almost instantly being dismissed.

If only soccer didn't take over his life, no, if only you had stuck together during your education.

You feel so foolish, the overwhelming guilt strangling you won't go away, not even both of your mothers believe you're still bestfriends, little do they know Rin doesn't see you that way anymore. You're now essentially just strangers now,

If only he kept that stupid pinky promise.

"So Rin was that kind of person." Yoichi hums, still staring at the picture that was hidden in your desk. It's the two of you during the peak of what was supposed to be an eternal friendship, where you had an arm tightly wrapped around him. Even over a decade later you see it as a way to rub salt into the wound.

"Yeah." It wasn't easy but you ended up explaining you and Rin to your boyfriend, Yoichi. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, fighting the urge to cry. Merely talking about him replicates the pain of that night, when you realized how truly meaningless you are to him.

"Hey." He's quick to notice your discomfort, wrapping his arms around you, lovingly patting your back. "It's okay." He whispers in your ear.

"It's not your fault."

That's what made you lose it, a choked cry and tears now streaming down your cheeks.

All this time you've been questioning if you were ever worth loving, all because someone who claimed to stay by your side forever disappeared so easily.

"It's okay, everything's okay." He continues to repeat. "I'm right here, okay? Let it all out. I'm not going anywhere."

You cling onto him, like a child. It was almost embarrassing to behave this way, weeping over someone who's probably forgotten you by now.

"'m sorry- I shouldn't be upse-"

"No. Don't treat yourself like that." Yoichi refuses to listen to anything negative about you, and that includes anything self deprecating. He carries you to your bed, placing you down gently, and joining you. Yoichi peppers you with light kisses, warmth ghosting over your face.

And he's right. You had every right to be hurt to this day. He was your bestfriend, your other half, and Rin himself took that all away from you heartlessly. The least he could've done was at least express that he wanted nothing to do with you.

"I promise you, I'm going to destroy him during our next game. I don't care if we're on the same team, I'm scoring more goals than him no matter what. No one deserves to treat you like that." Yoichi goes for a deeper kiss this time, rough, calloused hands cupping your cheeks. "Don't even think about saying you weren't good enough for Rin. You're perfect." Even after pouring your heart out and bawling because of it, you can't help but smile.

You're finally coming to terms with it, that the Rin who you'd play tag with along the graceful shores of Kamakura, was now a mere stranger to you, one that you'll hold dear to your heart.

tagging. @kiyumiya

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[fantastic-fr-scries]

Fae Male

Brick / Watermelon / Wine , Tiger / Stripes / Smoke

Arcane Something

[finelinevogue]

happy holidays

summary- an insight to the most perfect christmas

warnings: you already know it’s just fluff

word count: +1k

It had been a busy Wednesday, teaching five lessons today. You thought going into secondary school teaching would be a lot easier than primary, but maybe you were wrong. English had been your favourite subject growing up, so being able to teach it back to younger generations made your heart completely happy.

Even though the day had been long, you knew that comfort was waiting for you when you got home.

Harry had pulled all the boxes down from the attic, as you had asked him to last night, now sat in the hallway and waiting to be unboxed.

“Babe, I'm home!” You called out, taking off your red scarf and coat to carefully place on the hangers beside the door frame. It had been freezing outside, so coming inside to a toasty warm house made you feel very cosy. You didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that your nose and cheeks were now tinted red.

Harry came out from the kitchen door, a tea towel strung over his shoulder, with a smile on his face as soon as he saw you. He made his way over to you, careful of the mindfield of cardboard boxes. He reached his hand out to brush some hair from your face all whilst leaning in to give you a welcome-home kiss. You cherished moments like these, where he was so soft and simple. He didn’t force the kiss to be anything more than a simple ‘i’m-glad-to-see-you’ and you just loved him even more for that. He was the perfect person to come home to at the end of a busy day.

“Good day?” He asked, pulling back but keeping you close.

“Busy, but good.” You smiled, following him through into the kitchen after he’d nodded his head at you. “Joe King actually did his homework for once and Dinah Mite finally remembered that i’m a ‘Miss’ not a ‘Mrs’.”

“You say that as if you’re offended that Dinah called you a ‘Mrs’?” Harry teased, knowing you meant nothing horrible by it.

“They can call me ‘Mrs’ when it’s official.” You raised your eyebrows at him. Leaning on the kitchen side you watched him stir the bolognese he was cooking some more.

After long days at school, Harry had decided to pick up his weight more around the house and so he started to cook dinner. You’d known each other for 4 years now and when you’d first met Harry hadn’t even known how to cook toast without burning it, so to see him now perfectly cooking a bolognese you were proud - and slightly impressed.

Due to Harry not having your standard 9-5 job, thanks to being a mega-rockstar, he was often home a lot and so he liked to help as much as he could. Your chores now only included washing the dishes and drying them each day, and Harry did the clothes washing, hoovering, dusting and cooking. He was happy to do anything to ease your life a little and make you as happy as he could. Seeing Harry in an apron and cooking cupcakes, when he’s written songs like Watermelon Sugar, did make you laugh though.

“Was that a challenge, Miss L/N?” He asked slyly, bending down to check on the garlic bread in the oven. The kitchen smelt completely divine.

“Pull out a ring, ask me and let’s see.”

“Nice try.” Harry rolled his eyes, tutting you because you thought he’d ever ask you to marry him like this. “Now, come taste this for me.”

You pushed yourself off the side and waltzed over to him and the stove.

You were very lucky. You had gotten to design your house yourself from the foundations to what colour paint you want on the walls. Everything had been yours and Harry’s choice, along with some professional guidance too of course. Your favourite part was your kitchen however, because you’d taken a lot of inspiration from Dakota Johnson and designed the most perfect vintage green, cottage-core inspired, kitchen. The best part was your sage-green Aga, which Harry was currently cooking the bolognese on.

Harry brought the spoon up to your lips, blowing it cooler for you first. He kept a hand under the spoon in case any dripped, whilst directing the spoon into your mouth and letting the sauce embrace itself onto your tastebuds.

“Mmm.” You hummed in delight, letting the warm and tomatoey sauce soak its way all over your mouth. “Perfect.”

“Yeah? You must be a bolognese sauce too then, ‘cause you’re perfect.” Harry cheesily said, laughing to himself as he got back to stirring and turning off the heat.

“That was awful.” You laughed, leaning up to give him a kiss to his cheek.

Dinner was lovely. You couldn’t have faulted anything about the meal, all because Harry was becoming a five-star Michelin chef. Both of you caught up with each other over dinner, whilst also discussing plans for Christmas. You take it in turns to spend each year with your families, because you’re both so close to each other's family that wherever you are it always feels like home. This year you were spending Christmas in Holmes Chapel, since last year you’d spent it at your family’s.

Currently Michael Buble’s Christmas album was playing on the record player as you opened the boxes, filled with Christmas decorations, that Harry had brought downstairs earlier today. Every year, you both argue when you should put your Christmas decorations up. Harry always argued for the first weekend in December, but you like to decorate December 1st and if it wasn’t obvious already - you’d won. The boxes were ridiculously full with crap that you end up buying every year from various Christmas markets. This year you were going for a red and tartan theme, with hints of silver, since last year you had gold decorations.

Since you were a little girl, Christmas decorating has been your favourite part of Christmas because it really symbolises the start of the festive season. Harry never really got involved too much when he was a child, but ever since he’s been with you he’d decided that it’s his favourite part of Christmas too. He doesn’t really care for the tinsel wrapped around the bannister on the stairs, the Christmas card holder hanging over various doors or even the wreath hung upon the front door. What he really cares for is seeing that shining smile of yours as you watch Christmas come to life in your home.

“Babe?” You called from the living room, knowing Harry was out in the hallway wrapping fairy lights into the tinsel on the stairs.

“Yeah, love?”

“Need your help for the star.” You responded, not being tall enough to actually reach the top of your Christmas tree. It smelt so nostalgic and amazing, having argued with Harry for a real Christmas tree because nothing beats the fresh pine smell of a real tree. Screw the artificial ones.

Harry came waltzing into the room after a minute, giving a little shimmy as a jazz band solo came from Buble’s ‘White Christmas’. You laughed as he came over to you, thinking to yourself that this whole evening could be no more perfect. You handed him the star, but suddenly the song stopped and changed and on came Buble’s rendition of ‘All I want for Christmas is you’ - which, unpopular opinion, you have to admit you preferred over Mariah Carey’s.

He grabbed the nearest object to him, which happened to be a snow globe, before singing into it along with Buble’s. He harmonised, like the beautiful musician he is, before singing in duet.

“‘Cause baby all I want for Christmas is you.” He pointed to you and you shook your head in laughter, watching him be the Harry you absolutely adored.

He made some dramatic gestures and slid closer over to you, making some god awful shapes as he tried to dance. You kept on watching him as he kept singing, enjoying the minute concert he was putting on for you.

“Make my wish come true. You know that all I want, for Christmas, is you.” He got closer to you, and took your hand to twirl you around in a circle. He ended up pulling you closer and twirling you into his chest. You smiled as you let him finish his last line, before cupping his cheek and leaning up to kiss him softly. You made sure he felt your love for him as you kissed him, without any mistletoe - just because you could.

“I love you.” You whispered as you pulled away from his lips, giving him a quick second peck before breaking apart from him.

“Might’ve been my best performance yet, actually.” He turned his lips down in pride of himself and put the snow globe safely back down.

“I think that rendition of ‘Santa Baby’ you did in that really skimpy–”

“Okay, okay. Shut up. Don’t need to relive that moment anymore than I already do in my nightmares.” He shut you up, both of you now remembering Harry dressed in a short little Santa dress as he was dared to whilst he sang Santa Baby. It was the funniest Christmas karaoke that you’d seen, having been dared by your brother when you spent Christmas at your family’s last year.

“Think it lives in my nightmares too.” You laughed, picking up the star for the tree.

“Oh alright, yeah, love you too.” He said sarcastically.

“You wanna put the star on?” You offered an apology, holding the star towards him, even though it was the part of the decorations that finished everything off.

“No matter the amount of teasing from you will make me take away your favourite part of Christmas from you.” He said, turning you around and lifting you up from the waist so you gained an extra few feet. You easily reached to put the star on top of the tree and it looked so perfect sitting up there. You smiled and nodded in approvement.

Next thing you knew Harry was letting you down, but only a little so he could swing you around and hold you up. You connected your legs around his waist, locking your arms around his neck as he held on tightly around your waist. He leaned in to give you a kiss on your nose, but you tilted your head up so he reached your lips instead. He chuckled into the kiss, not leaning back as you pressed yourself into him. He tasted like peppermint, which let you know he’d been snacking on the sweets you’d left in a bowl on the kitchen table. You hummed in delight as you breathed him in completely, before leaning back to look at your beautiful other half.

“Y/N?” He speaks quietly, as if there were other people around to hear.

“Yeah?” You rested your forehead on his, enjoying the feeling of being this close to him.

“Thank you for being my forever Christmas.”

[wellthatwasaletdown]

Anon being a Harrie and not knowing much about music is not a big surprise. Harries as fans are not really known as connoisseurs of music. Their primary source of music consumption is tiktok. So let me take the opportunity to educate them about Kendrick. He won a Pulitzer for “Damn” trust me he isn’t singing “watermelon sugar high” 15 times in a row like a nursery rhyme for the toddlers. His latest diss track which he just randomly dropped in a day “not like us” reached billboard top 100 organically not because radio stations were pounding it or Spotify put it in all the playlists. Kendrick slander is unjustifiable, his albums are meant to be listened front to back, his lyrics have gravitas, he is not singing hash brown pancakes for two. That man is a poet don’t you dare compare him to Harry Styles quacking through his songs.

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[blatentmisinformation]

Earth has been in constant contact with extraterrestrials since 1983. Our primary interstellar export is watermelons, of which around 4% of the global harvest is traded for various pieces of alien technology each year.