#drakiest
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Dapati
#dapati#oc#original character#own character#slime bite / drakiest#slime bite#drakiest#slime boy#snake tail
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you’re welcome <333 also he just has the drakiest of drake energy i cannot
oh oh ohhh he's pretty. and that WAVE in the gif is definitely drake. the stupid awkwardness of the 'hey i'm here too look at me but don't look too hard or you'll see i'm clearly in love with you'
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Made it! Living my Drakiest life on MTG Arena.
Now the ladder truly begins....
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There’s a distinct possibility that I just rented a movie because the lead actor in the trailer immediately made me think of Drake.
And he’s the Drakiest Drake that ever Draked so far. 😂
OMG there’s a sign for an APPLE FARM
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Ice Cream Break
Pairing: Drake x MC (Emma Warner-Walker)
Book: The Royal Romance (Future)
Word Count: ~1,000
Rating: PG
Author’s Note: A quick little fic that popped into my head today due to two influences.
First, @lazychic28 so kindly gave me 3 prompts to answer my call for some fluff requests yesterday, so this will tackle two of them - #4 “You’re adorable, and I can’t believe I have you all to myself” and #9 “You’re soft and warm and I don’t want you to move.” (I already have an idea for the 3rd one in another WIP.)
And second, I found the Drakiest ice cream ever today at the store and couldn’t help but incorporate into a fic. The post and conversation about this yummy treat can be found here.
I hope you enjoy this yummy little piece of fluff! 😘
You can find all of my fics here - MASTERLIST
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“Hey Drake, I need to move. My arm is falling asleep.” Emma tried to wiggle out of Drake's hold but was met with resistance as he secured his arm tighter around her waist and pulled him to her chest.
“Nuh uh, Mrs. Walker. You’re soft and warm and I don’t want you to move.” They’d been curled up on the couch for over an hour already, enjoying a very rare Saturday night in without any social or political obligations. “Besides, this is the best part. You gotta watch the heist.” He tapped her hip and pointed towards the big screen TV, immediately enthralled again watching one of his all-time favorite movies, The Usual Suspects.
“Ugh, no . . . “ Emma pushed up off the couch more forceably this time, finally breaking free from his grasp. “Pause the movie. I need a break.” She stood up and scooted away before he had a chance to grab her again. “In fact, we need an ice cream break.”
“Argh, but I was so comfortable.” Drake groaned as he pressed pause on the movie and slowly moved to sit upright. “And don’t you try to make this ice cream break about me.” He raised an eyebrow at her in amusement. ”We both know who the ice cream fiend in this house is. I prefer my dessert in a glass on the rocks.”
“Well, I found something at the store today that may change your mind.” She smirked as she turned to walk towards the kitchen. “You, wait here!” She called back over her shoulder.
Drake sat in silence, fidgeting with a button on one of the throw pillows as he waited. He really just wanted to watch the movie, but he'd learned a while ago to not get in the way of Emma and her ice cream. After a few moments, Emma came back into the TV room with a pint of ice cream, two spoons and a few napkins. She plopped down next to him on the sofa looking very proud of herself as she handed him one spoon and the pint of ice cream. “Now if you don’t like THIS ice cream, Walker, I’ll be shocked.”
He eyed her curiously as he took the carton from her, then turned it around to look at the label. He chuckled as he read it. “Whiskey and Honey.” He grinned at her and shook his head. “Alright, I give. I’ll try it.” He opened the lid and dug out a spoonful, eyeing it before he placed it gingerly in his mouth. Emma studied his vapid expression as he swirled it on his tongue and then swallowed. He shrugged his shoulders at her. “Eh, it’s okay I guess.”
“What?!?!” Emma’s brow furrowed in frustration as she grabbed the carton from his hand. “I could have sworn you were going to love it.” She shoved a spoonful in her mouth, waiting for the underwhelming flavor to hit her tastebuds. But instead . . . she was overcome with the delicious combination of creamy, smoky and sweet sensations on her tongue. “Ohhhmygoooodddddd” she moaned as she took another huge bite, this time savoring it slowly before slowly swallowing it down. As she reached for her third scoop, she met eyes with a smirking Drake. “You lied, Walker.”
“Heh, maybe I did. But you know I can’t let you win that easy.” He dipped his spoon in once more and took a languid bite, closing his eyes for a minute to enjoy the flavor. “Okay, its pretty good. Although I still enjoy my whiskey in a glass.” He set his spoon down and walked over to the bar cart, pouring himself two fingers of the amber liquid.
“Fine, more ice cream for me.” Emma said triumphantly as she settled into the corner of the couch. She admired him as he sat in the middle of the couch and propped his legs up on the coffee table, one arm draped over the top of the couch near her head while he started messing with the remote to queue up the movie again. ”You know, you’re adorable, and I can’t believe I have you all to myself tonight.” She gazed fondly at him. “We don’t get to do this as much as we should . . . this is nice.”
Drake leaned over and placed a sweet kiss to her lips. “Yes it is. I’d choose this over some formal event any day.” He leaned back into the cushions and motioned to the TV with the remote. “Now, are you ready to finish one of the best movie of all times?”
“Hit it, Honey!” She quipped playfully as she nestled in to watch, ice cream carton in hand.
They sat in silence watching the movie for a while, Drake occasionally taking a slow draw of whiskey while Emma nibbled on her dessert. After about ten minutes, Emma began to notice Drake fidgeting every time he took a sip, his eyes darting towards her. She noticed his gaze seemed to linger a little too long on her lap . . . where she had set the carton of ice cream to rest.
“Draaaakkkeee???” She giggled as he looked up at her with an almost guilty look on his face, as if he’d been busted sneaking a peak in the girls locker room. “Drake, did you want some more ice cream?”
“Sorry, it’s just so good!” He exclaimed as he dove for the spoon and dug in to get another delicious mouthful.
“You just remember this the next time I ask you to try something new.” She smirked as he grumbled something incoherently under his breath, inhaling another mouthful of ice cream. She snuggled up against his side and laid her head on his shoulder, resigning herself to the watch the movie. She was pretty sure she wasn’t getting that ice cream back.
END
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Please send me an ask if you want to be tagged in future fics. Tagging the usual suspects 😂: @simplyaiden-blog @mfackenthal @lizeboredom @walkerismychoice @mrs-walker-nazario-levine @boneandfur @choices-fanatic @decisso @mariamatsuo @the-everlasting-dream @kamybelen-blog @butindeed @millehxoxo @drakelover78 @kamilah-sayeed-xoxo @parkerattano @asprankle
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“do you love me?” “only partly”
-a review of the Aubrey and the Three Amigos tour opener in Kansas City-
In the late 90s, in my early teens, I began attending concerts, almost exclusively Christian rock bands. Music, bands, and seeing bands play music, dominated my life. In the days, weeks, months leading up to an anticipated show, after school, before my parents got home, I would play a band’s CD—a live one if available—loud, and “perform” it in full alone in my room with a flashlight for a microphone, lip-synching, giving shout-outs to imagined fans, dancing around maniacally until pouring sweat. Last Sunday at the Sprint Center in Kansas City, for the 15,000 people attending the twice-postponed first date of a massive world tour, pop-rap superstar Drake Aubrey Graham—a grown man five months younger than me—did the exact same thing. Last Sunday night, I watched Drake do over an hour of Drake karaoke. It was adorable. It was Drake at his Drakiest, coasting on charm, giving minimal effort, getting away with it.
I love Drake. I love more Drake songs than I love songs by any other artist, by far. My meticulous Drake playlist, post-Scorpion, contains 96 tracks and lasts six hours and 32 minutes. If statistics equaled favoritism then Drake would be my all-time favorite artist. That said, Drake would likely not even make a list of my twenty favorite rappers, let alone general artists. But I love Drake still, and I think about him and enjoy his music disproportionately to how much the man and his work actually mean to me.
I love Drake because he, or rather the character he plays—who is not actually a character, but is really him—is simple, but in a complicated meta way that circles around and in on itself. See, Drake is dork. He presents as hard, cool, svelte, smooth, but he knows he is actually a dork, we know he is actually a dork, we know he knows he is actually a dork, and he knows we know he knows he is actually a dork, and all of us together have this tacit agreement to accept this false narrative, to enjoy it because doing so validates the way we sing along in our cars alone to songs to which we cannot relate at all. Drake’s existence as a pop star makes it okay, in theory, for me, a 32-year-old white man who teaches elementary school—the dorkiest of dorks, to rap along with Ice Cube’s “It Was a Good Day” in my car on the way home from school, to pretend to be Cube, as long as I leave out certain words when I do it. Drake makes us feel like this is okay to do because it is what he does on the most massive scale. Drake is a theater kid playing a famous rapper, who also just happened to become the most famous rapper.
Drake’s show on Sunday manifested this idea. Tickets cost as much as $250. Mine cost $151.62 after convenience fees. This single performance netted Drake an estimated $2.25 million—I repeat, two million two hundred and fifty American dollars--and yet this man had the gall to perform without a band, without even a visible DJ. It was just Aubrey out there onstage—except during his three—THREE—extended breaks over the 100 minute set, one of which ate up a full 20 minutes while openers Migos sleepwalked through a surprise encore featuring several more of their dreary triplet trap tunes, sapping the energy from the arena until Drake finally, finally reemerged to begin “Blue Tint,” without Future of course. Well, Future’s voice was there, on recording, while Drake shouted over it.
Drake’s voice was also present on the backing recordings. In fact, earlier I posited the notion the evening was Drake doing Drake karaoke. That was not technically accurate. Karaoke tracks exclude missing lead vocals to make room for the amateurs’ interpretations. What Drake did on Sunday was more akin to what I used to do in my bedroom as a teenager, belting along with CDs. The backing tracks at this show were not backing tracks at all. No, they were the original album tracks, with all Drake’s original recorded rapping intact. Drake would rap over his recorded self roughly 40% of the time. The other 60% he would emphasize certain words, talk to the crowd, dance around the massive stage, generally act as a hypeman for himself.
I have seen dozens of large-scale touring rap shows, and I have developed certain guidelines for what makes a good one. First, and most importantly, an arena-touring rapper needs a solid live band, even if that band plays along with backing tracks. Organic instrumentation makes shows feel raw, real, vital in the moment, like something could go wrong. Last year I saw Chance the Rapper play for a crowd of 40,000, and even though his voice was shot due presumably to an asthmatic episode, the show was fun and good because his band played the music right there onstage.
A real, talented DJ can also suffice as long as the rapper(s) also meet the second guideline I will get to. A DJ that visibly flips records and scratches and mixes in real time can fill the void of a live band. Run the Jewels did this both times I saw them, and they are a titanic live act. Many others have made this work for me as well; Eminem, Wiz Khalifa, and, to an extent, Kendrick Lamar, whose monumental roadshow last summer deserves its own multi-thousand-word writeup.
Second guideline: rappers need to rap live with minimal backing vocal tracks, and along with that they need to be the only vocalists onstage and also know how to use a microphone. I have seen so many rappers scream into their mics with no regard for how torturous doing so sounds to the audience, and have three anonymous buddies onstage doing the same thing. I saw Odd Future twice and they were absolutely disastrous, a cacophony so intolerable that I left their Coachella set before they allowed Frank Ocean his allotted two songs. In hindsight I regret this given what and who Frank became, but that is a digression.
Third, live rappers need to be consummate, energetic entertainers, need to at least seem like they are happy to be there rapping for you. The Migos, who opened for Drake, were the antithesis of this. They had a live DJ(✓), but they moped around the stage oblivious of the audience, like they were at the supermarket perusing tv dinners. I am happy to report, however, that Drake met this third expectation, that, by sheer force of Drakery, because of Drake’s inherent Drakeness, the absence of a live band and the extensive use of backing tracks did not much matter. Drake’s show by its very nature was an exception that proved those first two rules.
Drake live is dork supreme, the epitome of his metacharacter. He triumphs as the sole presence on a huge stage in the center of a hockey arena in front of 30,000 eyes, fully living out the teenage bedroom fantasy of performing on a huge stage in the center of a hockey arena in front of 30,000 eyes. That he barely bothered to actually rap is rendered charming by the fact that the Drake we know on record is absolutely the kind of person who would do that, and it is why we love him. Walking out of the show, rushing back to my car to beat the throngs so I could commence the three-hour night drive home, I had the most bizarre feeling: I was satisfied by a total lack of satisfaction.
An early highlight of Drake’s set was a surprising rendition of If You’re Reading This relative deep cut “Know Yourself.” When the beat cut out before the chorus, the tension hung in the air, and then that massive EDM-like drop hit and the pit crowd went wild, as did Drake, galloping across the stage like a madman. The feeling was electric, screaming along with thousands of other people, RUNNIN. THROUGH THE. SIX. WITH MY WOES.
I wish Drake had done more songs from that era. He played 40 songs, but only one or two each from his first four LPs. He sounded best on hard rap tracks—“Free Smoke,” “Energy,” “Gyalchester,” new classic “Nonstop”—and worst on anything that required him to sing, because apparently Drake cannot sing live, even with autotune, to nobody’s surprise. The only time he audibly sung came during an anemic cover of Michael Jackson’s “Rock With You,” tacked onto the end of “Don’t Matter to Me,” naturally, and he sang it in a bizarre whisper. Drake cannot sing! Who knew!
Watching the crowd lose it for the hits was lovely, as was how Drake absorbed the love and fed it back to the crowd. He may have been acting—he was a professional actor first, after all—but Drake seemed genuinely surprised, or relieved perhaps, that the crowed enjoyed the show. He saved the monster radio jams for the backhalf of the show, the finale lead-up a suite of unimpeachable chart-toppers; “One Dance,” “Hotline Bling”—including the video’s doofy dancing, which wasn’t that different than the rest of Drake’s dancing, “Fake Love,” “Nice For What”—which may go down as Drake’s greatest pop song, and “In My Feelings.” Arranging those five songs in succession is such a vaunt, a reminder why we all paid so much to be there, why we stuck it out through an interminable hour of Migos.
And then came the fake closer, “I’m Upset.” Look, I love “I’m Upset.” It is hilarious, unintentionally—but maybe not? —and that makes it great. But “I’m Upset” is not a closer, even if everyone present assumes an encore or three is inevitable. Drake mugged his way through the grievance anthem, left the stage, and came back out a minute later to bid us goodnight with what I assume would be a couple more tracks.
The opening synth lines of “God’s Plan” kicked it. The crowd roared. Drake opened his arms in full Jesus Christ/Scott Stapp pose. I could see the finale in my mind. We would all sing along with this jubilant new classic—she say do you love me I tell her only partly I only love my bed and my momma I'm sorry, hahahaha so funny and perfect and petty, so Drake—and then that four-to-the-floor kick/snare would start, each and every one of us suddenly awash in a wave of euphoria as Drake sent us out the doors with “Hold On, We’re Going Home,” quite possibly the greatest pop song of the last decade, an ecstatic moment we would all remember forever, a story to share with our progeny when Drake wins his third Oscar twenty years from now.
But no.
That did not happen.
We got silly to “God’s Plan”—see Drake=God in this equation, and I guess this was church?—and then… the show ended.
Drake and/or his keepers made the confounding, inexcusable decision not to play “Hold On, We’re Going Home.” Of the $151.62 I spent on the ticket, I would say roughly $102. 35 was to see that one song. I do not understand this choice, even a little, especially during a set that featured 16 songs from Scorpion, a record with but four great songs—well, five if we ironically include “I’m Upset.” Okay, six because “Mob Ties” is stupid but a grower. Yet, Drake subbed any of 10 mediocre Scorpion cuts in place of “Hold On.” Come to think of it, he also did not play “Marvins Room.” Or “Passionfruit.” Or “Best I Ever Had,” “Shot For Me,” “Take Care,” “Furthest Thing,” “Legend,” “No Tellin’,” “Back to Back,” “Right Hand,” “Portland,” or “Blem.” Drake had the audacity to karaoke 40 of his own songs and not one of those songs was the song “Feel No Ways.” Hey, Drake, guess what. I’m upset. With you. About this. But not really. But kind of. Eh.
The truth. The truth is that I knew how this show would go, that Drake would lip-sync or not even bother to lip-sync. I knew I would not be satisfied, because satisfaction is not what Drake is for. I knew that Drake could not possibly play all 96 songs of his that I enjoy. I knew he would favor the more recent material because that material is what is getting him paid right now. I knew the cheapest t-shirts would cost $45. I knew that the Migos would suck. I knew all this, but I still chose to pay to be there. I almost always go to shows to be present during them, enjoy them as they’re happening. But with Drake it was different. I paid to be there, not so much to see Drake, but to have seen Drake, to have actively participated in the summer of the year 2018.
A couple nights ago my girlfriend and I were chatting with some her neighbors on their porch, enjoying chilly mason jar margaritas after a long day of oppressive humidity. The conversation inevitably drifted to the topic of recent concerts, as most conversations which include me tend to do since I am unable to speak with a modicum of clarity about much else. The neighbors’ seventh-grade daughter heard me mention that I had recently seen Drake. “Drake… the rapper?” she said, giving me an incredulous look. Rather than dispute this child’s narrow genre classification, I said something like yep, that’s the one. This is all to say, I am now a person who has seen Drake, envy of middle school girls everywhere.
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New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube
New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube
Via Mass Appeal
Following a hilarious tirade about teenagers giving up on life too soon, Oakland rapper Kamaiyah talked about her breakthrough hit “How Does It Feel,” Drake showing up at her house in the Drakiest way possible and the house party scenes of the good old days on the latest episode of MASS APPEAL’s “Open Space.”
“You…
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New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube
New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube
Via Mass Appeal
Following a hilarious tirade about teenagers giving up on life too soon, Oakland rapper Kamaiyah talked about her breakthrough hit “How Does It Feel,” Drake showing up at her house in the Drakiest way possible and the house party scenes of the good old days on the latest episode of MASS APPEAL’s “Open Space.”
“You…
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New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube
New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube
Via Mass Appeal
Following a hilarious tirade about teenagers giving up on life too soon, Oakland rapper Kamaiyah talked about her breakthrough hit “How Does It Feel,” Drake showing up at her house in the Drakiest way possible and the house party scenes of the good old days on the latest episode of MASS APPEAL’s “Open Space.”
“You…
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New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube
New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube
Via Mass Appeal
Following a hilarious tirade about teenagers giving up on life too soon, Oakland rapper Kamaiyah talked about her breakthrough hit “How Does It Feel,” Drake showing up at her house in the Drakiest way possible and the house party scenes of the good old days on the latest episode of MASS APPEAL’s “Open Space.”
“You…
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New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube
New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube
Via Mass Appeal
Following a hilarious tirade about teenagers giving up on life too soon, Oakland rapper Kamaiyah talked about her breakthrough hit “How Does It Feel,” Drake showing up at her house in the Drakiest way possible and the house party scenes of the good old days on the latest episode of MASS APPEAL’s “Open Space.”
“You…
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New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube
New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube
Via Mass Appeal
Following a hilarious tirade about teenagers giving up on life too soon, Oakland rapper Kamaiyah talked about her breakthrough hit “How Does It Feel,” Drake showing up at her house in the Drakiest way possible and the house party scenes of the good old days on the latest episode of MASS APPEAL’s “Open Space.”
“You…
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The Thirstiest And Drakiest Reactions to Nicki Minaj Being Single Again
Drake Reactions To Single Nicki Minaj The entire internet is going bananas over the fact that Nicki Minaj is single. She’s on the market and ready to mingle. So naturally everyone assumed that one guy she had a flirty http://dlvr.it/N2mDDt
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New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube Via Mass Appeal Following a hilarious tirade about teenagers giving up on life too soon, Oakland rapper Kamaiyah talked about her breakthrough hit “How Does It Feel,” Drake showing up at her house in the Drakiest way possible and the house party scenes of the good old days on the latest episode of MASS APPEAL’s “Open Space.” “You… View On WordPress from hip hop news source
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New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube
New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube
Via Mass Appeal
Following a hilarious tirade about teenagers giving up on life too soon, Oakland rapper Kamaiyah talked about her breakthrough hit “How Does It Feel,” Drake showing up at her house in the Drakiest way possible and the house party scenes of the good old days on the latest episode of MASS APPEAL’s “Open Space.”
“You…
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New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube New video Open Space: Kamaiyah on @YouTube Via Mass Appeal Following a hilarious tirade about teenagers giving up on life too soon, Oakland rapper Kamaiyah talked about her breakthrough hit “How Does It Feel,” Drake showing up at her house in the Drakiest way possible and the house party scenes of the good old days on the latest episode of MASS APPEAL’s “Open Space.” “You… View On WordPress from hip hop news source
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