steroetype

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The Middle East’s Feminist Revolution

The role of women in the great upheaval in the Middle East has been woefully under-analyzed. Women in Egypt did not just “join” the protests – they were a leading force behind the cultural evolution that made the protests inevitable. And what is true for Egypt is true, to a greater and lesser extent, throughout the Arab world. When women change, everything changes, and women in the Muslim world are changing radically.

Naomi Wolf at Project Syndicate

here are some things from the leaked sausage party script
  • So. the food is sentient right? 
  • turns out that the food exists in the fourth dimension and it can only be perceived by the use of opiates 
  • the food then rises up and kills all of the humans. for eating them. 
  • the female shopper we see in the trailer is named camille toe 
  • characters include: a stereotypical native american bottle of firewater, a stereotypical mexican taco, a steroetypical muslim lavash bread, and a stereotypical jewish bagel. basically this movie is FILLED racist jokes 
  • oh, and commentary on the isreali-palestinian conflict! in food form! what the fuck! 
  • did i mention that the bagel and lavash are gay? for each other? 
  • and that the taco is a lesbian for the hotdog bun we see in the trailer? 
  • and that the food has an orgy? 
  • a three-page orgy? 
  • the lavash sucks off the bagel
  • and eats its ass 
  • i can never hear the term “food porn” again without flashbacks to this 
  • also: the lavash fucking dies 
  • bury your food gays 
  • the movie ends with the food killing all of the humans 
  • i wish i were dead 

here it is if you want to read it for some fucking reason 

Men do not owe you a thing.

Seeing how women not owing men anything is getting popular, consider this:

Men do not owe you a compliment, especially if they are typically the only ones to do it. Whether you are showing off a new outfit or are simply fishing for compliments, men do not owe you.

Men dont owe you the check. If you go on a date, men do not owe you payment for dinner. They are not obligated to cater to you when you arent willing to do the same.

Men do not owe you sex. Just because you think youre irresistable, doesnt mean guys are obligated to sleep with you. If they say no or show disinterest, deal with it. Dont rely on steroetypes about how males want sex all the time.

Men do not owe you presents. If you arent willing to reciprocate, men do not owe you a gift. Not during a date, not during an annivesarry, not as a make up gift, nothing. If you arent willing to be as considerate, dont expect anything from them.

Men dont owe you pity. You crying does not excuse your actions. That is not a get out of jail free card. If you abuse a child, the man, or are a horrible person, dont expect you crying to make up for that, especially if that is your go to response.

Men dont owe you manners. If you arent willing to do it for them, dont expect them to do but for you. Men dont owe you by holding the door. Men dont owe you by carrying stuff for you, men dont owe you by complimenting you, ect. Men are fine without catering to you.

Men dont owr you silence. If you are sexist, biased, or overall intolerant of someone becaue they are male, men dont owe you silence. Men can call you out just as much as you can call them out. Dont bother with buzzwords to erase their input, dont bother claiming they have it better when you out no effort into seeing how they have it and only have your own stereotypes to fall back on. You say something bad, expect men to say something.

Men do not owe you leniency. If you hit, insult, or overall abuse a man, they dont owe you forgiveness. Be prepared for tge same action tgat another women would give you for the same action. If you sexually harrass a man, he does not owe you a pass. You should be geld just as accountable. This also applies to court cases.

Men do not owe you their lives. Dispite the selective service giving their votes a condition that women dont have to deal with, men are not obligated to sacrifice their lives for you based on gender. Their lives are just as important as yours.

Men do not owe you respect. Respect is earned. You do not get it automatically for being a woman. You get it by showing that you are a person worthy of respect. The same goes for the guy. You are not owed respect because of your gender, especially when you dont reciprocate.

Men dont owe you the time of day, a smile, or leniency.

If women dont owe men anything, then men dont owe women anything.

RAGE STROKE

The Weekly just published the biggest pile of homophobic, anachronistic, played-out, sexist drek of 2015. We got unspeakably angry, put on our Feminist Kill Joy hot pants, and tore it a new one. 

Behold, the vitriol of Seattlish. May you never be on the receiving end. 

The Girls’ Guide to Faking an Interest in Sports
How to hustle drinks, make new friends, and possibly meet a worthwhile dude amid the Seahawks throngs.

[HBO: I’m not a girl, I’m a woman, thanks. Girls should probably not be “hustling drinks”]

By Alyssa Dyksterhouse Tue., Dec 8 2015 at 05:37PM

When I moved here two years ago, I asked, “Who is this player number 12, and why do people love him so much?”

[HBO: Ok, but actually it’s a valid question re: 12. Understanding what “the 12th man” is and why it’s an important ideal also explains one of the basic rules of the game. But I guess that doesn’t matter if the appearance of sports fandom is all that matters?]

I kid, because I am a snake person sports fan, a woman who cultivated conversant fandom through careful study—and a teensy amount of trickery (i.e., fake it until you make it).

[HBO: What is there to fake? If you don’t understand part of the game, look it up or ask someone. You don’t need to pretend; if you’re interested in sports, just fucking learn about sports. What the fuck are you cultivating? Your fandom is a garden?]

A college-aged female coworker recently said she refused to date a Seahawks fan. She preferred someone who appreciates art, music, and writing. I told her, “Honey [AH: If someone starts advice to you with “Honey” just black out whatever the fuck follows.], the two are not mutually exclusive. If you want to meet a man, meet him halfway, because most men enjoy sports. That expands the pool of dateable men beyond skinny-jeaned hipsters and bearded vegan baristas.” [AH: LORD FORBID YOU SHOULD DATE A VEGAN, WHO IS OBVIOUSLY NOT A REAL MAN] [HBO: LOL STEREOTYPES ABOUT SEATTLE AND MEN ARE SO FUN] [AH: Needs 100% more reference to neckbeards and software programmers in order to really capture the essence of the Seattle male stereotypes]

Sadly, she evoked images of my elitist [HBO: Well, at least you can admit it…] , er …younger self [SAL: Okay, FORMER elitist, sure.], who would have shunned anyone donning a 12 jersey the way a theater major avoids a frat house [HBO: PEOPLE CAN LIKE MORE THAN ONE THING. THEATER MAJORS PLEDGE FRATS. THAT’S A THING. ALSO LOL STEREOTYPES AGAIN. This entire piece is built on stereotypes. Like stereotypes are necessary for the structural integrity of this piece] . In my early 20s, I didn’t want to date some football-loving douchebag [HBO: Wow, rude. I assume this is talking in the voice of the “younger self” but if that’s the case, qualify it as such. Who edited this?] . Only later did I come to realize how self-defeating and unreasonable it was to judge the vast majority of men by their benign weekend hobby. [AH: Really lady because it seems like judging is 10000000% what this entire article is about] [SAL: Because it is not unreasonable to judge men for NOT watching sports?] [HBO: Also football happens almost every night of the week. Monday Night Football? It’s a thing!]


Ironically [HBO: Failing to grasp what is ironic here], I caught the sports bug early. As a Michigan neonate, my first visit to Chicago coincided with Super Bowl XX in 1986. Back then I enjoyed football, loved going to games, and wanted to be around masculine energy [AH: That’s a really weird thing to say.]. [HBO: I personally played football throughout all of junior high. My female family members all love football. I’m really sad for you if football only meant “being around masculine energy” at a young age. That explains a lot about this.] [SAL: IT IS ALMOST AS IF SHE IS A WOMAN WHO GENUINELY LIKES FOOTBALL???] After college, I began spending Sundays in the pub, learning that getting excited about games converted to free drinks. Call that Lesson One. [AH: I just, wow. There are so many better ways to score free drinks, and also fairly easy to buy your own and save yourself the identity-destructing hazard of being a TOTAL POSER.]

Lesson Two: Sports have an intensely social aspect that women (and hipsters) [SAL: HERE IS PAYOFF FOR HER VEGANS AND HIPSTERS COMMENT EARLIER. Hipsters=less of men=women]  [HBO: Gosh, I love casual sexism most when it’s sprinkled with just a light touch of homophobia!] tend to vilify. [HBO: Gotta interject: A LOT of “hipsters” like football and other sports? Like soccer? And basketball? Like have you been to a game at 95 Slide? Because again, I will say, PEOPLE CAN LIKE MORE THAN ONE THING].  Despite knowing nothing about NCAA basketball, I joined a March Madness office pool under the mentorship of acquaintance who became my betting guru [SAL: “Guru”: Not even once.]—and later boyfriend. [AH: Furthering the theme that the only real interest a woman would have in being a sports fan is to acquire male sexual attention, and not for like, you own independent interest or edification.] He taught me how to wager and why. I cheered and moaned because I had money on the line, and I met masses of men who bought me countless cocktails [SAL: Here is where I would cheer and moan]. I connected with people. [HBO: Yes, the interesting thing about sports is that when you genuinely enjoy them, you make genuine friends.] (Also, my brackets won, forcing my coworkers to demand a recount.) I even became involved in a “Last Man Standing” bet at my neighborhood bar. Come baseball season, I learned to read box scores, obsessively, to follow my beloved Tigers. I appreciated baseball and could knowledgably chat to almost any man about it. [AH: Almost any man, but presumably not the effete vegans and hipster trolling anywhere other than a bar.] [SAL: UM AT THE END OF THIS GRAF IT SOUNDS LIKE SHE ACTUALLY ENJOYS SPORTS, GENDER TRAITOR]

Which brings me to Lesson Three. While my betting-guru [SAL: *twitch*] boyfriend was ultimately left behind in Chicago, let me say this to my neophyte Seattle sports sisterhood: Knowing sports gives you cred as a cool chick [SAL: Is there some keyboard shortcut for that excerpt from Gone Girl] [HBO: Much like drinking whiskey, looking hot literally all of the time, eating burgers, burping, and any number of other things that our culture has inexplicably linked to gender when in fact they have literally nothing to do with it, liking sports makes you a “cool chick!” You’re not like other chicks! You’re cool!] with a large percentage of men. In September, when a store clerk asked me who I thought would win the Hawks/Packers game, I replied, “The Pack doesn’t lose at Lambo.” [SAL: Oh hey this is the American version of “they always try and walk it in”] (Predictably, the Seahawks suffered a double-digit loss that week.) I can connect with sandwich artists, bartenders, and people on the bus because I know football. [HBO: I feel like I’m repeating myself a lot here, but again I will say, the real moral of this piece should be that football brings people together. If only someone would write that piece without the endless sexist, misogynist, transphobic, homophobic stereotypes! OH WAIT LOL I DID IT LAST YEAR] [AH: WTF is a “Sandwich Artist” and are they included in the pool of dateable men because Lord knows I love a fucking sando and a good dicking. Two, two, two things in one!] [SAL: It is commercial phrasing turned demeaning term for Subway employees so not good sandos, also is it weird to be able to connect with people who work at Subway?]

Do you want to expand your horizons when it comes to dateable men? Here’s my seven-point action plan. [HBO: A better question: Do you want to learn about something that is interesting and could possibly help you make real human connections with other people?]

First, find a TV-based ball sport [SAL: LIKE FOX’S TUESDAY COMEDY LINEUP??? YUK YUK YUK YUK] you can tolerate or—maybe—even like. [HBO: A WEIRD THING ABOUT SPORTS IS THAT THEY ARE ACTUALLY FUN FOR SOME PEOPLE] Absent a new NBA franchise, that means the Seahawks, Mariners, or Sounders. [HBO: Now would be a cool time to mention that we also have **women’s sports** in Seattle, including the Storm, Reign, Sounders Women, and the Majestics who, for a number of reasons not dissimilar to the rampant sexism in this piece, are less frequently televised] Then belly up to the bar. You will not meet anyone while giggling in a booth with a gaggle of girls [SAL: Unless those girls are… well, a lot of girls who like sports and also fun.] [AH: I’m sorry when did having friends you go out and have fun with start being unattractive to men also OMG WHO CARES WHAT DUDES THINK] [HBO: Also we, as a group of women in a booth at the bar watching sports, have in fact, met people of all genders. So actually you might]. And remember that tennis, golf, and figure skating are not viable options, since those are not competitions guys watch (or cheer about) in bars. The intention is to meet dateable men. [AH: SO MUCH coded homophobia, anti-intellectualism, anachronistic gender roles, and classism.] [SAL: Oh my god more defining what real men are through sports-watching and defining masculinity. I am maybe more over this trope than any other thread running through this shitty fucking essay] [HBO: Tennis is actually a hugely watched sports and figure skating is part of the fucking Olympics and oh my godddddddddddddddddddd]

Second, educate yourself. Read. [HBO: First salient thing in this entire wasteland of stereotypes]. I recommend the sports/humor website Deadspin. Sometimes, in the doctor’s office waiting room, I also pick up Sports Illustrated. [HBO: That’s it? Not any of the locally-facing SB Nation blogs? Not, I don’t know, the Times or the PI, who regularly cover local sports? Not the Nation’s incredibly smart sports and politics coverage?] Ask questions. Inquiries are a more efficient aphrodisiac than copious cleavage. [AH: Doubtful.] [HBO: Ok I actually may have to stop reading this right now before I begin lighting things on fire. Like there are not enough hours in the day to deconstruct this. Is this a satire? Are we sure this article isn’t supposed to be satire? If this is a satire it’s terrible.] To a guy, the only thing sweeter than mansplaining is sportsplaining. [HBO: WAIT SO NOW WE ARE ENCOURAGING MANSPLAINING? Also, if you **ask a question of a man about sports,** it’s not exactly mansplaining. Mansplaining is when you, as a knowledgeable woman, begin talking about sports and a man waddles up and is like “um actually….” and then explains it over the top of you. Just so we’re clear.] (Again, I was Eliza Doolittle for my betting guru b.f.) [AH: Ladies, men are not the heroes of your story.] Powered with passion, a dude will enthusiastically convey everything you want to know—and more—about a player, team, or game. Let him. [HBO: The fuck year did this article fall out of.] You might learn something about his personality and, possibly, his values. [HBO: ……………..help me…….]


Third, don’t be afraid to not know something about sports. [SAL: I actually agree with this because sports are fun and we all have to start somewhere but don’t be a dick about it or force yourself just to impress dudes. Dudes are the worst.] [HBO: Didn’t we already cover this with “ask questions”?] [AH: Actually, be very afraid.] If you have the slightest bit of knowledge, you have opened the door of conversation. Again, dudes dig this [HBO: BREAKING NEWS: I DO NOT GIVE ONE HOT FLAMING FLYING FUCK WHAT DUDES DIG. IT REALLY DOES NOT IMPACT MY DECISIONS IN THE SLIGHTEST]. In fact, you have given a bashful guy a chance [HBO: #notallmen] . Are you eyeing that adorably dorky guy sporting a Sounders scarf, playing darts and downing pints with his bro-grammer friends? Mention to him how you visited Old Trafford during your last trip to England. He will be wowed—and maybe purchase you a craft cocktail. [SAL: Barfing forever. Also, I’m not sure how this conversation was supposed to go? “I know nothing about sports tee hee but I definitely did some sports tourism can you explain my destination to me, shy guy?”]

[…] For example, the last two minutes of a Hawks game will seldom only be 120 seconds. During this time, DO NOT SPEAK. [SAL: SILENCE, WOMAN.] [HBO: A quick tip for knowing “the timing”: KNOW THE FUCKING GAME. KNOW WHAT A GOOD PLAY IS. TA-DA!] Waiting wordlessly for them to run down the clock can be painful, but any man will appreciate it. [SAL: I am in a family full of men who love the Seahawks and this is something literally nobody cares about when nothing is happening except the clock running down.] [HBO: Also there’s a lot of speculation to be done when the clock is running? Which can be fun?] [SAL: RIGHT. This is actually a really great time to talk and speculate and bond and it’s not like, mid-play usually] When in doubt, go get a snack or refill a beverage. [HBO: NO DO NOT BECAUSE YOU WILL MISS SOMETHING. DO THESE THINGS AT THE COMMERCIAL BREAK OH MY GODDDDDDDD]  When the Hawks lose, men [HBO: And, in fact, people of all genders who enjoy sports!] revert back to their tremulous 9-year-old sulking selves. This offers an opportunity to sweetly soothe them. [SAL: WITH SEX???? O_o] [AH: Men are just giant babies looking for their new sports-loving sex mommy to come along and soothe them.] Conversely, when they win, guys run around screaming like overjoyed toddlers. Let them. Smile and be indulgent. [SAL: WITH SEX???? O_o] [HBO: Ok but when do we get to the sex.]

Fifth, don’t judge a man by his sports jersey or face paint. [HBO: I mean if it is ill-fitting or something, I will. There are lots of fashionable choices.]  I was recently on a date with a dude who stopped following football. To me this […] indicated a lack of passion and commitment. If he can give up on the Hawks during a season of injury and ill fortune, will he give up on me? [SAL: Yo this woman secretly actually is really into football] [AH: Lady, you need a better grip on your attachment disorder.] [HBO: Also there are a lot of good reasons to give up on football, like TBI and the NFL’s completely shit handling of domestic violence. Maybe you should have talked to him about it?] Look, guys do goofy things to express their devotion. [HBO: Men! They have emotions but silly ones! Stereotypes! They’re convenient! Toxic masculinity!] If they’re able to go gaga for a sports team, they can also be unbridled in their enthusiasm for you. [AH: This is decidedly not true.] Sixth, unless you have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity—say, matinee tickets to The Book of Mormon — [AH: This is the best example of a once in a lifetime event you could fucking think of?] [SAL: You haven’t seen Book of Mormon until you’ve seen it in the afternoontime!] do not ask them to skip the game and watch it later on DVR. This is like them asking you to miss the red-carpet preshow to the Oscar telecast [AH: WHAT’S THAT?]. It just isn’t the same after the fact. [HBO: Debatable. A lot of people watch sports later. Ask anyone who has a fucking DVD of an old game and they watch it. Or like, people who work and have to watch the game later. That’s a thing.]

Seventh, an invitation to Safeco or the Clink is on par with dinner at Canlis and tickets to The Nutcracker. [HBO: PEOPLE. CAN. LIKE. DIFFERENT. THINGS.] If a guy asks you, even casually, if you’d like to catch the M’s or Hawks at home, you must say yes. [SAL: You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do and if you are going to sit in your hundreds-dollar seat and be bored and miserable the whole time you should especially not bother. Like, why do the thing and breed resentment just because it’s an expensive thing?] [HBO: I MUST DO NOTHING FOR A MAN.] [AH: MUST IS SO RAPE CULTURE OMG] Put on your favorite jeans, a cute T-shirt, and casual shoes (no heels) [AH: Wear whatever the fuck you want.] [HBO: If this were actually an educational article, it would tell you here that you can’t bring your cute purse to CenturyLink though because of NFL rules. You can bring a small clutch or a clear bag.] [SAL: UNLESS YOU HAVE A BABY or can borrow a baby in which case your purse is your diaper bag and your problems are solved, except for the baby] and enjoy a ballpark frank [HBO: oh right because vegans aren’t human]. Wanna score major points? Secure the tickets yourself and ask him. [HBO: ONLY IF YOU WANT TO AND YOU WILL HAVE FUN. You know what is terrible? When someone wants to go to a game with you (YOU THINK) and then they buy tickets but then they are big poops the whole time who don’t actually care about the game. That sucks. Don’t do that.]

In conclusion, for the average straight guy [HBO: Homophobia! It’s so fun! Gee, are these stereotypes load-bearing? They sure seem to be, because there are so many of them!] —even evolved ones—loving sports is a fact of life. So, ladies, my advice is to not compete with their precious Sunday-afternoon sports and TV rituals [HBO: AGAIN. SPORTS HAPPEN EVERY NIGHT OF THE WEEEEEEEEEK IT’S NOT JUST SUNDAAAAAAAYS. THIS ISN’T EVEN AN ACCURATE CHARACTERIZATION OF SPORTSSSSSSS]. If you can’t embrace it as a shared pastime, there’s the museum, a matinee, or the mall [HBO: So actually don’t fake it? Wait, did your closer just blow your entire article out of the water with one line? WHO. EDITED. THIS]. [AH: I was told this article was about how to learn how to like and understand sports not how to learn how to please men and manage having, I dunno, an independent set of interests outside of my partner.] Where you will find precisely zero single, dateable men.  [AH: NEVER. ENDING. SIGH.] [SAL: SO MUCH CODED HOMOPHOBIA STILL. Also who goes to a matinee to meet people? DO YOU TALK DURING MOVIES, TOO? And does she only go to theaters during matinees?] [HBO: OH THERE IT IS. LOL I FORGOT ABOUT STEREOTYPES]

This Sunday, instead find a sports bar and watch the Seahawks—hopefully—beat the Ravens in Baltimore. If you follow my action plan [HBO: This is not an action plan. This is just a very long series of exceptionally lazy, hurtful, rude stereotypes], you’ll have better luck than with 100 right swipes on Bumble. [SAL: Fake it until you find a guy that is faking it as much as you! Fake it until you end up in a romantic comedy subplot where you learn you should have been your true self all along! Fuck it, go to a museum!] [HBO: Don’t go to a museum. Only hipsters there. ONLYYYYYY HIPSTERRRRRRRS] [AH: #bindersfullofmen]

HBO: Oh my god I need to drink until I can no longer think about this article and how it was published by a newspaper that just laid off a whole lot of people because they were pivoting to a more ‘nimble’ workforce of freelancers.

AH: BRB setting bra on fire forever.

SAL: “ALTERNATIVE MEDIA” EVERYBODY

Dating Stereotypes: Misconceptions Demystified

Alright, check this out. It’s funny and the arab + mexican one is specially hillarious. Don’t need to agree, but could be slightly true.

WHITE WOMEN:

First date:

You get to kiss her goodnight.

Second date:

You get to grope all over and make out a bit.

Third date:

You get to have sex but only when she wants to and only in the missionary position.

IRISH WOMEN:

First Date:

You both get blind drunk and have sex.

Second Date:

You both get blind drunk and have sex.

20th Anniversary:

You both get blind drunk and have sex.

 ITALIAN WOMEN:

First Date:

You take her to a play and an expensive restaurant.

Second Date:

You meet her parents and her Mom makes spaghetti & meatballs.

Third Date:

You have sex, she wants to marry you & insists on a 3-carat ring.

5th Anniversary:

You already have 5 kids together & hate the thought of having sex.

6th Anniversary:

You find yourself a Mistress.

CHINESE WOMEN:

First date:

You get to buy her an expensive dinner but nothing happens.

Second date:

You buy her an even more expensive dinner. Nothing happens again.

Third date:

You don’t even get to the third date and you’ve already realized

Nothing is ever going to happen.

INDIAN WOMEN:

Keep reading

I’ve seen so many people complaining about AU! Alec being too steroetypical but I just want to point out that they were trying to make a contrast between AU! Alec and real Alec but also AU! Alec was supposed to be similiar to real life magnus and AU! Magnus similar to real life Alec

  • AU! Alec is a party planner//magnus throws parties
  • He’s is sassy//magnus is sassy
  • he’s flamboyant//as is magnus
  • he’s confident and assertive//so is magnus
  • alec is even dressed similarly to magnus

i realise that sterotypes are bad and alot of you were probably made uncomfortable by this episode but i just genuinly dont think that was the intention 

So I just watched “An Indirect Kiss” and can I just say how much I LOVED that Connie put her glasses back on?? The media is chock full of stories where removing a woman’s glasses is what makes her ‘beautiful’ so to have a girl in a children’s show gain perfect vision - through magical, wish fulfillment means no less - and still choose to wear her glasses without the lenses, her hair blowing in the wind (a very steroetypical beauty shot), and standing in a powerful pose

That’s great. That’s really, really great. 

"You're Mine" - Luke Hemmings Imagine

Hi! This is just another one of those steroetypical drunk imagines I’m sorry guys. I wrote it kinda quick and ive had a bunch of homework these past few days. But I wanted to get something out for you. 

Please like and reblog as it helps me out a lot. 

Dont forget to check out my best friend’s tumblr- http://maagorium.tumblr.com/ she makes great edits. 

Okay I think that’s all. 

LEAVE REQUESTS!!!! x

————————————————————————————————–

You sat in the booth that was in the corner while Luke went to get drinks for the two of you. You shifted uncomfortably in your skin tight black dress that Luke insisted you wore. You were at a club for the first time, and you did not like it. But, as Luke was leaving in 2 weeks to go back on tour, you needed to spend as much time with him as possible.

You watch the people on the dance floor twerking and dancing. A guy from across the room keeps staring at you. Your eyes search for Luke as the guy’s gaze got more harsh. Luke returns with your favorite drinks.

“So, after this why don’t we dance?” He asks, smiling at you.

“Luke, you know I don’t dance.” You complain, the thought of grinding making a blush come across your face.

“Oh come on, (Y/N), don’t make me dance by myself.” He teases, nudging your arm, making you laugh.

“We’ll see.” You say, winking at him.

After you finish your drink he gets up and reaches for your hand. You had loosened up a bit after your first drink. You took his hand and he led you to the dance floor.

A few songs went by and you and Luke were just chilling around the back of the mass of people, swaying to the music and talking. Then ‘18’ begins to play. You and Luke look at each other in excited shock. You grab his hand and fight your way to the center of the dance floor. You two begin going crazy, dancing to the beat.

“You know, the lead singer of this band is so hot.” You shout into his ear so he can hear, lingering there a second longer.

“You think so?” He smirks and grabs your hand and bringing it above your head, twirling you around.

After '18’ more standard clubbing songs began playing and you and Luke stay on the floor for a good hour before you two decide to get some more drinks.

You sat up on the bar stool as Luke went to the other end of the counter and orders. The guy who was staring at you earlier approaches you, sitting beside you.

“Hey.” He says, showing a large smile.

“Hi..” You reply, giving him a weird look and watching Luke, hoping he’d come back soon.

“I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are.” He slurs, clearly drunk.

“Okay.” You say bluntly, trying to pull Luke over to you with your eyes. It didn’t work.

“I mean it, babe. I’d ba-” Someone grabs his collar and jerks him up.

“Leave. Her. Alone.” He growls.

“Hey man, I’m just trying to get some action.” The drunk guy says, raising his hands in defense and limps away.

You look up at the guy who helped you out.

“David!” You jump up and wrap your arms around him.

“Hey!” Your friend responds. You two had went to college together and hung out with a study group before a giant test in Biology, and the whole group just hit it off and became friends who always seemed to meet up, but of course since Luke has been home you haven’t really hung out with any friends lately.
“Thanks for that.” You say, laughing. He joins you and waves his hand as to say 'no problem’.

You and David begin to talk about your new classes and how awful they are when Luke returns. He sets your drink in front of you and takes a sip of his own.

“Oh hey Luke, this is David, a friend of mine from college.” You tell your boyfriend who is chewing on his lip ring.

“Hi, how are you?” David says politely, stretching out his hand.

“Fine.” Luke answered. You coughed and took a sip of your drink.

“Well… I’ll see you on the dance floor.” David proposed, shooting a look to Luke, who was staring at his drink.

“Yeah!” You answered, David leaving to go to the dance floor.

“Why were you talking to him?” Luke ask.

You raise your eyebrow at him. “Because he is my friend is there a problem with that?” You question, your voice getting a bit defensive.

“There is when he can’t stop staring at your body.” He mutters, taking the last sip of his drink.

“Luke, stop. We were just talking.” You snap.

“He asked you to dance and you said okay!” He retorts quickly.

“And before that some drunk guy was hitting on me and David got him to leave me alone while you were up there staring at the bartender so I don’t want to hear it, Luke!” You shriek, getting up and walking to the dance floor, getting lost in the crowd.

You finish your drink and set it on a nearby table then begin to dance again.

You’re pissed off at Luke for thinking you’d ever want anyone else but him. Plus you were drunk, so you had no filter or thinking process and all of your emotions were about 10x stronger.

While you were dancing you felt someone grab your arm and pull you to the back of the room.

“OW!” You complain, holding your arm where there is sure to be a bruise tomorrow.

“What. Do. You. Think. You’re. Doing.” Luke spits, backing you into the corner.

“I’m having fun while you’re sitting at the bar.” You cross your arms over your chest and harshly stare into his eyes.

“Literally all of the eyes are on you and I’m not okay with that.” Luke admitted, his eyes full of anger.

“I don’t care what you’re okay with.” You snap, slipping past him and going back to the dance floor.

After about an hour most of the people have gotten completely wasted and its no longer fun.

You back out of the circle and walk around the club, looking for Luke. He is nowhere to be seen. You grab for your phone and remember Luke was keeping it so you didn’t have to keep up with it.

You make a mental note to never do that again and walk outside to a payphone.

You punch in Michael’s number, knowing he is the only one up at this hour.

“Hello?” His deep voice comes across after the 3rd ring.

“Michael I need you.” You say,ashamed you had to do this.

“Why (Y/N)? Is everything okay? Where’s Luke?” He asks, worried.

“Well I’m not sure. We went to a club tonight and he got pissed at me and I think he left me here and I’m kinda drunk so I cant drive home…” You quickly say into the phone.
You hear a rustling on the phone before he says “Okay. I’ll be there soon. What club is it?” He asks. You tell him and hang up. You sit on the bench outside the club and wait for him to pull up.

Your eyes begin to feel heavy and you end up falling asleep waiting for Michael.

You wake up when you feel a pair of arms carrying you. You look up and see Michael.

“Mikey!” You squeak, hugging him.

“Hey (Y/N).” He says, laughing at how drunk you are.

He put you in his car and ran to the other side.

“Okay. So tell me what happened.” He requests.

You fill him in on the evening’s events not leaving out anything.

“Well (Y/N), I see your point, but Luke is the most jealous person out there.” He tells you.

“I know but Michael its not fair that I can’t even talk to another guy without him jumping down my throat!” You argue.

“(Y/N), I agree. Just be careful when you get home, okay? Call me if you need anything.” He says, pulling up to yours and Luke’s apartment.

You nod and hug him quickly.

“Thanks.” You say and smile at him before shutting the door and walking inside. Luke was sitting on the couch drinking a beer.

“(Y/N)-” Luke starts.

“Don’t speak to me.” You hiss, walking straight to your shared bedroom. You lock him out and get undressed and get into bed. You cry yourself to sleep as you hear Luke breaking his beer bottle in the sink in frustration, knowing you’ll have a mess to clean up in the morning.

You wake up with a strong pair of arms around you, holding you and the sound of someone breathing beside you.

You scoot away from Luke, holding your head from the massive headache.

He immediately wakes up and sits up, holding his head as well.

“Here, baby.” He says, handing you 2 pills and a glass of water. You take it and look at him. Both of your eyes were red and puffy.

“Thanks.” You say, handing the drink back to him.

You throw the blanket off of you, a rush of heat coming over you.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry.” He says pulling you back to him.

“Luke, I am too, but I need space right now or I might puke on you.” You say, making him chuckle.

“Go take a cold shower and I’ll be here when you get back.” He tells you. You nod and quickly shower, washing off the dirt and alcohol smell off of you from last night.

You got out and put on one of his shirts and a pair of shorts.

You walk to the kitchen and see he’s put out some fruit and saltine crackers for you to eat.

You begin eating and he comes beside you and grabs your hand.

“Feel better?” He asks.

“No. Remind me to never drink again.” You say.

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry I left you there.” He says, looking down.

“Just don’t do it again. That was scary.” You tell him. “Thank God for Michael.” You say, entangling your fingers with Luke’s.

“I owe him big now.” He sighs, leaning his head on your shoulder. You nodded and ate another cracker.

“I love you more than anything.” He mumbles into your shoulder and leaves a kiss.

“I love you too, Luke.” You say, turning to where you are facing him. You kiss him quickly.

“Will you come to the studio with me?” He asks. You nod and grab more pills and throw them into your bag. He takes your face in his hands again and kisses you.

“You’re mine.” He says against your lips.

“I know.” You kiss him again. He puts his arm around your shoulder and you two begin your drive to the studio where he kept showering you with kisses and 'sorrys’ for last night.

I think its ironic how the internet steroetype for sonic ocs is theyre all just lazy recolors when honestly?? Every oc ive seen from this short time rping is so well designed and well thought out and developed??