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#and they just invited themselves to do it instead like
soon-palestine · 2 days
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as an american citizen, you have the right to assemble. the police and other governmental agencies violate this right through mass arrests, illegal use of force, criminalization of protest and other means that threaten our right to free expression.
DO NOT TALK TO THE POLICE:
they are not your friends. they are not there to protect you, regardless of your race. their presence there is to protect the interests of the state.
what to do if you are detained or stopped by the police:
do not resist, even if you think they are violating your rights.
calmly ask someone to record.
ask if you’re free to leave. if you are, walk away.
how to stay safe during a protest:
write phone/legal aid numbers on your body. bring a sharpie for others to do this.
ALWAYS use the buddy system. don’t be selfish & stick to your own friend group. if you see someone alone, invite them into your circle.
don’t know where to seek legal aid?
before attending/during a protest, visit http://nlg.org/chapters/#massdefense.
NLG chapters are organized into regions. find. your region and write their number on your body.
encourage others around you to write that same number on their body.
4. if you are threatened with or under arrest:
you have the right to know why you’re being arrested. calmly ask. if they refuse to provide a reason, stay quiet and ask for legal representation immediately.
do not give any information or sign anything without a lawyer present.
what to do with your phone during a protest:
put your phone on airplane mode
disable face ID/touch, replace with 6-digit passcode instead
spreading awareness is great but avoid posting photos of people that include identifying features.
police want everyone to leave the area, what should that look like:
shutting down a protect through a dispersal order must be the last resort for police.
a clear danger must be present.
police must give adequate time for protesters to disperse and an exit route.
what are your rights if you’re being stopped or detained by police:
you do not have to consent to you or your belongings being searched. if you consent, anything can be used against you in court.
police can conduct a “pat down” if they suspect you have a weapon.
if you see someone being detained, what should you do:
record the interaction. police can not demand to view or delete any footage without a warrant.
use calming affirmations towards the person being detained. they are likely scared. be there for them.
use whatever privilege you have to protect others.
if you see a disabled person struggling, offer to help. find medics to assist people experiencing anxiety or having a panic attack. if you see a BIPOC being harassed, surround them.
personal note on using your privilege: i have seen white people, countless times, place themselves in front of BIPOC when police draw weapons/approach protests. it often works.
do not be a person that just acknowledges their privilege, use it for good.
10. remember that we protect us. ignite this chant as a reminder to everyone present if you have to. communities are supposed to help one another. don’t be a sell out, offer support, share resources, food and water. be a kind soul.
if you can not participate in a protest for whatever reason, you can still help! drop-off supplies! (water bottles, allergy-friendly foods/snacks with ingredients labels on them, sharpies, cards with legal aid numbers on them, masks, makeup remover wipes, hand sanitizer, etc)
sources/disclaimer: main source:
@ACLU and my own opinions. this is not legal advice. consult legal representation if you are in need of assistance.
stay safe, be on the right side of history. black lives matter, no one is illegal, we protect us, land back, all oppression is connected and free palestine. 🇵🇸
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agent00ani · 3 days
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Ok it’s been too long since I’ve spoken about BG3 headcanons. Instead of talking about my Tavs though I’m gonna talk about the companions!
POTENTIAL SPOILERS BELOW!
No Minthara because I have yet to recruit her in one of my games, sorry!!! I love her I just haven’t had the ability to play with her and all that.
Halsin
Halsin does not have sculpted abs. He’s got a stomach. I mean come on he’s literally a bear.
He loves talking about the ecology of the various environments you visit. He knows so much about so many plants and animals and fungi.
If you ask him to, Halsin will braid your hair for you. Social grooming is very important to him.
He loves to play with scratch and the owl bear cub in wild shape. He takes the shape of a wolf most often so he’s not too big.
Halsin keeps a nature journal! It’s like his own private version of inaturalist. He tracks the species he sees and where he sees them.
Gale
Gale is skinny and a bit toned during the start of the game, but as he is encouraged to take better care of himself he puts on some weight.
He is constantly asking Halsin about various creatures and Druidic magic. The man’s a nerd, he’s got so many questions and Halsin is kind and patient enough to actually enjoy answering them. They’re great academic buddies. When Gale becomes a professor he invites Halsin to give lectures on ecology and Druidic magic.
Gale has created spells that allow him to make a magic kitchen while on the road. This way he can use more than a campfire to cook.
He loves to stargaze and will point out his favorite constellations if you ask to join him.
Astarion
While he’s good at mending and sewing, Astarion enjoys making perfume far more. He eventually develops perfumes based on each of the traveling companions.
Astarion teaches the entire camp how to wash blood out of clothing and gear because someone has to. Also he refuses to do everyone’s laundry for them.
He often goes with Halsin to forage for herbs and flowers. It’s a chance to stock up on supplies for his perfumes and also to manipulate bond with the Druid.
Him and Shadowheart often discuss poisons together. They have a secret game early in the adventure where they say how they would poison each member of the group, what poison they would use, and why. When both of them start to feel accepted and cared for they switch to talking about what poisons best represent the group members instead.
Shadowheart
She spends a lot of time at camp by herself, even after rejecting Shar. She values alone time. It also allows her a chance to process what has happened to her and what she has lost.
Scratch sleeps with her most nights after he joins the camp. At first she’s annoyed by it(a ‘pet’ distracts from her mission) but it’s not very long before she’s cuddling with him.
Shadowheart collects trinkets after converting. She wants to surround herself with things she enjoys.
Lae’zel
Since she travels with a grindstone, Lae’zel helps everyone maintain their weapons. Not out of kindness at first, but because her allies being weak and having subpar gear makes her weak. Eventually tho she teaches everyone how to do it themselves to help them be stronger(and because helping people care for their weapons is a friendly gesture).
She develops a special bond with Gale and Shadowheart, as all three were manipulated/used/abandoned by their deities. She doesn’t exactly know how to support the others as the process things, but she is Faerun’s greatest hype man and constantly reminds them that the gods were cruel and foolish for what they did.
Lae’zel and Halsin help each other maintain their braids. Hers are more intricate and decorated but Halsin is more than able to put them in properly.
Wyll
Wyll spends a lot of time with Karlach after he refuses to kill her. At first because he wants to apologize for hunting her and prove he can be trusted, then after the transformation for advice on how to live life with horns, and finally because he just loves to spend time with her.
While he wasn’t exactly “shy” before his transformation, Wyll starts bathing last because his own body has become unfamiliar and he no longer feels comfortable being seen without at least a shirt and some pants on.
When the others realize that he’s struggling with his body more than he lets on they do their best to help in their own ways. Karlach teaches him how to care for his horns properly, Halsin helps him learn how to braid his hair around them, Astarion finds clothing that is not only comfortable and modest but also makes him look really good, Lae’zel helps him adjust to the change in his center of gravity by sparring with him, and Gale tracks down books about teifling/fiend anatomy for him to read.
He’s really good with children. When Arabella and then Yenna join the camp he spends his evenings keeping them company, telling them stories, playing with them, etc. Karlach often joins him.
Karlach
She makes use of her unnatural heat to help with as many things around camp as she can. Drying clothes, cooking, heating water for bathing, being cozy when it’s especially cold, etc. because if she can do good things with the engine it feels less like a curse.
Once she can touch people safely, she spends almost an entire evening just cuddling with as many people as possible. It starts with just Scratch and the owl bear cub. Then Halsin joins. Then she goes to find the others for hugs. Astarion jokes about how the two of them could probably reach normal temperatures if they just hugged for long enough.
She and Lae’zel bond quickly through their sparring. The two joke back and forth in their own ways and it confuses the other companions at first, because basically no one else has had a chance to learn Lae’zel’s sense of humor.
Karlach collects the various teddy bears and plush toys they encounter on the journey. Having nice, soft, cuddly things to curl up with makes her feel safe.
Jaheira
She knows how to get you fucked up beyond your wildest dreams. Smoking with her is an ORDEAL.
Jaheria speaks to the younger party members like they’re her kids. This doesn’t become clear until they visit her home, however, at which point said companions have various reactions(Karlach loves it, Lae’zel does not).
Minsc
Minsc quickly joins the sparring sessions. He also starts wrestling matches.
He can often be found having seemingly one sided conversations in camp, apparently talking to boo. The topics of these chats are vast and varied. Gale once heard him discussing the various meanings of different flowers in bouquets according to flower language.
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hurglewurm · 11 months
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the psychic attacks. they're getting stronger
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cinemacrypt · 1 year
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Weeping sobbing shitting my dick WHY DID I MOVE IN WITH A FUCKING PROFESSIONAL THERAPIST
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taketheringtolohac · 10 months
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what if I just screamed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and cried!!!!!!!!
#local girl forced to deal with everything on its own due to incompetency of parents 5 dead 24 injured.#I’m all of the ppl who were harmed. i am. i just wish I could ask someone about things and get a good answer#that didn’t make me feel like. well. you know. but yeah.#and then INVITING THEMSELVES UP FOR MY BIRTHDAY.#like. yeah I don’t have plans and I won’t have friends up there yet but also. maybe ask me first instead of just deciding 😔#but also I might not even be able to do any of that bc ! none of this might happen!#bad things just keep happening and it keeps making me just. want to quit the whole process and stay here and give up#but I already bought the car so now I have to commit and just. yeah. yeah. i wanna scream#i am trying to vent less on the internet but also there is nowhere else to put this!!!!! i don’t have ppl to vent to so now this is my diary#but yeah. I’m just. going crazy. i know I should be doing my own research but also god would it kill you to even try.#like literally no effort has ever been made to help me it’s just an afterthought of like oh have you thought about x when I thought abt x#like weeks ago. and it’s always been this way. or me going yes I’ve thought abt x and them going oh good and then not offering any more help#i would just like to be given proper guidance once in my life. just once.#that didn’t feel like ripping my heart and all my guts out of my body. like just once in my life yk is it too much to ask for#but no I’m the only one with any fucking vision around here and I hate it so much#whatever. it’s fine. I’ll suffer through another day tomorrow. its fucking fine.
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a-soft-fluffy-nerd · 1 month
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TL;DR: Steam just made library sharing so much fucking easier and so much fucking better. Instead of login-trading, it's just a simple goddamn invite.
Read this. Really. It's a good read. Because it shows that, full-stop, Valve isn't just doubling down on their stance to make sure that people can and should be able to share their copies of digital goods as easily as they can physical ones, but they're making it better and easier than ever.
But you know how Steam allowed you to, with either friends or family, link accounts with another person to be able to establish an ability to share game libraries with one another? The general gist of Steam Family Sharing was that, with a limit of five people plus you (six in total) on a limit of ten computers total could share account access to willingly mix your libraries. You could play theirs. They could play yours.
This was a huge boon. It was meant to emulate sharing a physical copy of a game. A way to allow children to play games their parents or siblings had bought without having to fork over double the cash to buy it a second game. But it had some major limitations and drawbacks, and was archaic to use.
If a person did not share the same computer, you had to manually log into that computer to give it and the accounts on it access. This wouldn't be a problem if both accounts were used on the same computer, but many households (and astronomically more family and friend groups) had multiple computers, all used by different people.
If that computer, at any point, was hard reset to any point before the sharing occurred, you lost access. And had to do the whole process again. This was also an issue with computer transfers. The whole kit and kaboodle needed to be redone on upgrades. On top of that, the old computer is now just dead weight that you may not realize you have to manually revoke access to.
Putting your account information on another person's computer opens up security issues. They could, intentionally or accidentally, land themselves on your account if the login information was stored. Which could easily lead to purchases or bans you did not want to happen.
If anyone was, at any point, playing any game on their own library, you had no access to their games. Even if it was a totally different game, you had to wait your turn as if waiting for their computer to be freed up to sit at. (Admittedly this is kind of like the "mom said it's my turn on the xbox" meme, but hey, kinda archaic.)
You could not choose whose library you accessed a game from. Not at all. It always prioritized the first library it gained access from, DLC access and multiplayer be damned. If another friend you were accepting games from had more DLC? Too bad.
And yet here we are. Steam Families Beta fixes EVERYTHING about the above issues. By just going through Settings > Interface > client Beta Participation and clicking onto Steam Families Beta? You get:
No more login sharing. No more computer links. You can now choose which person's library you borrowed from. And you can play any other game from someone's library, even while they're in-game. It just needs to be a different game than what they're playing.
Pick five people. Invite them to your family. And now everyone has access to everyone's library. My goddamn library went from 150-ish to almost a goddamn thousand in ten minutes of setup.
Account sharing and password sharing are dirty words that "lose" billions of dollars. Netflix, Hulu, Amazon, Max. They aren't game storefronts, but they still allow you to access massive libraries and scream like you murdered their firstborns for daring to share your password with your mother after you moved out.
Microsoft tried pushing to demonize and undercut used games sales and borrowed copies of physical games. Remember the first attempt to reveal the Xbox One? People forget, but these vultures tried to make an always online console that checked to see if you were the account that owned the game, even if you had a physical disc, and prevent access to the disc's contents if you weren't the original downloader.
Valve walked the fuck up. Valve tapped the mic. And Valve dropped the fucking thing right onto the ground with one feature's revamp.
About the only issues I can see with this are twofold:
If someone sharing your library gets banned from a game's servers... so do you. No one else in the family does, but the both of you do. This is... rather unpleasant, because banhammers can be dropped quite frequently by mistake. I'd urge Valve to rethink this one, but I see the logic: don't cheat and effectively bite the hand feeding you. Still making me side-eye that, though.
If you leave a family you've joined? You have to wait a YEAR to join a new one. It's to prevent people form jumping ship to another group and screwing over who's in the former one in the process, but a YEAR? OUCH.
Problems aside, though... it's probably the biggest fucking power move I have ever seen a media distributor make in the current economic climate. It's the kind of thing that would let so many new games be available in a way that's easier than ever. Just a few clicks to send or accept an invite, and bam. Permanent access to dozens or even hundreds of new games with so much more freedom than earlier drafts of the system.
It's the kind of thing that slaps you in the face with positivity after so many Ls from the games and media industries. And I'm all the fuck for a W like this.
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what-even-is-thiss · 3 months
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Have you never spent a lot of time around cats but want to be friends with one? Some cat communication basics. Because I feel like it.
A cat approaching you doesn’t necessarily mean they want pets. They may just be inspecting you or hanging out.
If you want to pet a cat you need to ask permission first. The way you do this is you offer a finger or the back of your hand for them to smell. If the cat wants to be pet they’ll generally push their face or head and neck into your hand. If they don’t want to be pet they’ll generally walk away or just sit down.
Cats will usually ask for pets by rubbing up against you or possibly standing at your feet and meowing. When you think a cat is asking for pets hold your hand out and see if they rub up against you. That means they want pets. If they start walking away with purpose instead that means they want to show you something. If they meander off that just means they’re hanging out. No pets needed.
If a cat likes the way you’re petting them they’ll probably lean into it. If they like it a lot and you stop they might try to pull you back over with a paw. They might also squint close their eyes. If they don’t like it they’ll lean away or swipe at you a bit or show their teeth if they really don’t like it.
When they’re done being pet or sitting in your lap they’ll probably just peacefully walk away. This is good. They trust you but they’re done hanging out now. If their ears flatten or they start bristling and hissing you’ve done something very wrong or they’re afraid of you and it’s probably best to leave them be.
A relaxed cat’s ears usually point forward and are upright. If their ears flatten or point back they’re angry or scared and they’re serious.
Cats can purr for any number of reasons. If they’re sitting on your lap with completely relaxed posture (in a loaf with tail curled up, eyes happily squinted closed, maybe actively looking for pets from you and giving little cat hugs in the form of rubbing their face on you) that’s probably a sign of contentment. They can also purr to calm themselves down or try to heal themselves or others. Purring is one of those things that needs the surrounding context to be understood.
When a cat shows their stomach they’re comfortable around you but not looking for pets. Most cats don’t like belly scratches. Some do, but if you try to scratch a cat’s belly and they start acting angry it’s because from their perspective you’re the one violating personal boundaries here.
If a cat doesn’t like being picked up they’ll probably start struggling. If they’re very stressed out they may get violent but if they know you that probably won’t be their first choice unless said cat has a short temper. If the cat is neutral to happy about being held they probably won’t do anything at all. You can carefully drop cats when you’re done holding them. In fact they may prefer that to being carefully set down depending on the cat. Angle them down just a little when you drop them so they can land on their front paws first. This also gives them a bit of warning that they’re about to be dropped.
Most cats won’t lick you but if they do they’re trying to groom you. This means they see you as part of the family. This is fine. A bit weird but they’re trying to help.
If you try to act like you’re small and out of the way and avoid eye contact with a cat, the cat will see this as an invitation to hang out. This is why if you don’t understand or like cats and try to avoid them at parties or at friends houses they might try to hang out with you a lot. Lots of eye contact and making a lot of noise and making yourself bigger is the way to scare a cat off. Slow blinking and not acting excited is an open invitation.
Some cats have been trained a little bit by their owners. They aren’t obedient 100% of the time like dogs but they can be trained to know what some things mean and get accustomed to certain situations. Cats can be trained to like a certain noise like kissy noises or tongue clicking by making those noises when you feed or pet them when they’re young. It can also be demonstrated to them that patting the couch or other surface next to you is an invitation to come over. These are the most common things most house cats that grew up with humans know about. You can also ask their owner if there’s a noise they come to but if you don’t know, kissy noises, tongue clicking, or the cat’s name or saying something like “here kitty kitty” are the most common things a cat might understand as a request to come over.
When playing with a cat, moving your hand around on the ground for them to pounce on, waving a feather toy around, rolling a ball towards them, etc. they generally won’t use their claws. If they want to play they’ll start playing. This can look like their eyes going wide and them paying attention to the plaything, doing the prey butt wiggle, and swiping at the toy. If they don’t want to play they usually just won’t react to what you’re doing or watch you with disinterest and neutral eyes.
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chahnniesroom · 3 months
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for richer, for poorer
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pairing: bang chan x female reader
summary: gift giving has always been something you've agonised over. for chan, just having you in his life is enough.
word count: 3.4k
warnings: insecurities (especially related to finances), feeling anxious, hurt/comfort
a/n: i know it’s still a long time until october, but i didn't write it in time to fit as like a holiday related fic. formatted this on my phone bc i'm lazy so please let me know if anything looks weird!
bonus: minho's reaction to his gift (included as a reblog of this post)
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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Gift giving has always been something that you agonised over. You wanted so desperately to get something meaningful and special that nothing you ended up getting seemed special enough.
So when Felix had proposed throwing both Chan and Minho a party for their birthdays, you were more than happy to help plan. You could see that Chan had hesitated when Felix had told them about it, but he had ultimately agreed when he saw the way Minho had seemed to perk up at the idea.
It wouldn’t be anything too big, Felix promised, just inviting some close friends to have dinner and hang out. It slowly balloons into more than a simple dinner, but the opportunities for the members to have their friends gather are so rare that you swallow your concerns.
The night of, you can’t help feeling a bit nervous. You recognise almost everyone, but that's the part that scares you - you've only seen most of these people through your phone screen before. You know Chan and Minho have a lot of idol friends, but you didn't realise there would be so many at the party. You had discussed the guest list with Felix briefly, but your concern had been about the number of guests and not who they actually were. Now you’re starting to regret it, you aren’t mentally prepared to be face to face with so many celebrities.
The time passes surprisingly quickly with people trickling in as the night goes on. Dinner is casual, you’ve helped to cook a number of dishes and takeout was ordered to fill the rest of the counter. There isn’t enough proper seating so everyone is spread throughout the kitchen and living room.
You spend most of the time just wandering through and making sure that there’s no shortage of drinks, appetizers, and that the empty dishes or cups are cleared away. Of course, you greet everybody as they arrive and thank them for coming, but it’s hard not to be intimidated by all the famous faces.
Eventually Changbin drags the birthday boys to the living room, standing them in front of the TV to open gifts. Everyone else either crams themselves onto the couches, sits on the floor, or loiters closer to the doors.
Chan insists that he open presents at the same time as Minho instead of one at a time like Jisung suggests. Someone pushes a couple of matching boxes into their hands and steps away.
It's almost comical how different they open them. Chan takes his time, carefully pulling apart the ribbon that's wrapped around the box, sliding the lid off and putting it to the side, then slowly peeling aside the tissue paper. Minho on the other hand, manages to pull the ribbon off the box without untying it and flips the box to shake off the lid and reveal the contents.
They're complementary hoodies in the casual and oversized fit that the boys usually go for. You recognize the brand, have seen the members wear it on more than one occasion, and know that they most likely cost the same as your monthly salary.
The next gifts seem fairly innocuous, a beanie for Chan and a baseball cap for Minho, but you know their pieces often go for over a million won, more than you’ve ever spent on a single clothing item.
It continues on like this, the boys receiving items like music equipment, alcohol, and sunglasses. It makes you swallow hard when you think of your own, mostly handmade gift.
Maybe the worst part is that nobody else at the party even blinks an eye at it. You can’t blame them, it’s the nature of their occupation that has gotten them desensitised to being surrounded by luxury and it’s not like they can’t afford to indulge in getting more expensive things.
When you look down, wanting to stop staring at the pile of opened gifts, you see that you've partially crushed the packaging of your own gift. It already looked shabby enough, it was obvious you had wrapped it yourself and the paper you used was from the supermarket, but now it was even worse.
When you try to smooth out the crinkles, your shaky fingers somehow make it ruin it more. You bite your lip, hard, then stop, self conscious about your appearance around all these idols.
It suddenly feels cramped and too warm, sweat starting to gather on your forehead and back. The room starts to spin slightly and you become overly aware of your heart beating in your chest.
A burst of laughter from the crowd spooks you, pulling you out of your head. You use the opportunity to get to your feet and excuse yourself. You slip away as quietly as you can and breathe a sigh of relief when you make it into Chan's room without anyone following you.
You don’t bother to turn on the lights, not wanting anyone to check up on you, and sit on the ground with your back against Chan’s bed. With the door closed, the noise from the party is muffled and it’s significantly colder in this area of the dorm. You press your hands to your face and take a few deep breaths to try and calm your heart rate.
You don’t know what’s wrong with you because you know you shouldn’t feel like his. You had been looking forward to watching Chan and Minho open their gifts, you had spent a lot of time preparing them and you had felt confident that they would enjoy them.
Well, until you saw everything else that they received.
Now your ideas just seemed silly. You feel humiliated at the thought of everybody seeing the obviously cheap gifts and even worse when you consider how ashamed Chan might be for others to know that you were his partner.
Although you were working full-time at the moment, you had only graduated from university last year and your student debt was an ever present weight on your shoulders that you tried your best to hide. Everything you had went to paying it back and checking in bi-weekly to see the number get smaller and smaller was the only thing that made you feel better.
Chan knew that you often worried about money. You had been mortified the first time that he had walked in on you trying to organise your finances for the next few months. He had glanced over your shoulder before you had even realised he was in the room and all the red cells showing where you were in a deficit were hard to miss.
It had been early on in your relationship and the dates that the two of you had been on as well as a couple unforeseen events had meant that you had been spending way more than what you had anticipated. Of course, Chan had treated you on a number of occasions, but you refused sometimes because you felt guilty every time he offered to pay, especially since it had been only a couple years after his debut.
He had been more than understanding, but you had been so embarrassed and caught off guard that you couldn't stop the tears from streaking down your face. Since then, Chan and the members had never done anything to make you feel like they pitied you or thought any less of you for your financial situation, in fact they did the opposite.
When you had first started visiting the dorms, opening the food delivery apps was like a reflex for all of the boys once it was dinnertime. You were always hesitant to choose anything and felt even worse by the nonchalant way that they covered the costs each time. Even though you knew they didn’t think anything of it, you couldn’t help but feel like you were taking advantage of their hospitality.
Somehow they caught on to your reluctance to buy food and now it's tradition that you cook for them when you come over, enough so that they keep the kitchen stocked with more than ramen, chicken breasts, and protein powder.
In particular, Minho absolutely loved your cooking and had needled you many times on sharing how you made it. You had always denied him though, saying that you didn't use exact measurements and came up with things on the fly. That’s why for his gift, you had taken the time to create a recipe book, complete with pictures for each step and modifications that he could make based on the ingredients he had.
You had spent a few months thinking about what to give Chan. He was harder to shop for since you knew he wasn't overly fond of celebrating his birthday and didn’t want you to spend money on him, but was always touched when you got him something. Usually, you tried to do something he was more likely to accept.
Last year, you had organised with the company to give Chan a day off and had taken him out to a movie. It was a pretty standard date, but the two of you rarely had the opportunity to go out together and you knew Chan had resigned himself to watching the movie when it was released online instead of going to the theatres like he had hoped to. Having to spend a few days trying to sort out all the logistics of secretly rearranging Chan’s schedule had been more than worth it with the way that his face had lit up when you had told him about what you had planned.
You don't know how long you sit alone, but every time that you tell yourself to get up and rejoin the party, it feels impossible to move.
“Hey,” Chan's voice is cautious, but you startle anyway, scrambling to stand up. Stuck in your thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed him entering the room. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Just needed some air, it was getting kind of stuffy in there,” you explain. “I didn't think you'd notice.”
“Of course I noticed. You were there one second and gone the next, I didn't know what happened.”
“It’s nothing.” You avoid Chan’s gaze, not wanting to see the concern that shines in his eyes.
Chan steps closer, then reaches out and tangles your fingers together, using your connection to pull the two of you to sit on the bed.
“Y/n, baby,” he says softly. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in here.” He leans forward until the side of his head bumps into yours.
“It’s-”
“Don’t say it’s not important,” he warns. “It’s important to you and that makes it important to me, okay?”
“Uhm,” you pause for a moment, unsure of how you want to word your thoughts. You trust Chan, but it still feels scary being vulnerable. “I guess, I was just feeling… Insecure.”
“Insecure?” Chan tilts his head slightly. “About what?”
“Everyone-” you laugh slightly, embarrassed. “Everyone gave you guys such nice gifts, I feel like mine don’t even compare.”
“Y/n, you know I don’t care about that kind of thing. If I had the choice, nobody would be giving me gifts at all. Just having you in my life is enough.” Chan’s voice is painfully sincere.
“I know you don't mind. It just- It feels bad that I can't give you something nice like they can. It's dumb, I know, but I can't help it.”
“I can open it here, away from everyone else if you want,” Chan offers. “Or you don't even have to give it to me today, you can save it until you feel better. Or don't give it to me at all, it's all okay.”
“No no, I want you to have it,” you say immediately. Before you can think better of it, you reach down and retrieve the gift from where you left it on the floor.
“Whatever makes you feel comfortable,” Chan reassures you.
“This is fine,” you decide. “Just the two of us."
“Okay.”
“It’s not designer,” you say suddenly, fiddling with the ribbon that keeps the two packages together. Both of you ignore the fact that you’re just stalling at this point.
“I don’t need any more clothes, I barely wear everything I own now,” Chan jokes.
“Really, you might not like it,” you warn.
“Baby, when have I ever disliked anything that you’ve gotten for me?” Chan drops the teasing tone. You think for a moment.
“When you asked me to order noodles for you and I accidentally got you the spicy version and it made you cry?”
“Did I say that I didn’t like them?”
“No, you ate it all even though I warned you that it would make your stomach hurt for the next couple of days,” you say, smiling faintly at the memory.
You had gotten yourself the same dish and had found it to be bearable, while Chan’s face had turned bright red after the first bite. You had offered a few times to get him a non-spicy version so that he could enjoy himself, but he had been determined to finish, soaking his shirt and beanie with how much he had sweated. He hadn’t even been able to continue carrying a conversation with you, too busy trying to suck in air to cool his mouth.
It had been even funnier for you the next day, receiving multiple texts from Chan about his stomach hurting and having to continually pause dance practice to go to the bathroom.
“The pain was worth it,” Chan insists. “I'm actually convinced that I'll like anything you give me. Now come on, let me open my gifts!”
You hand over the gift and watch as he pulls away the ribbon to separate the boxes and peels away the tape on the first package. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he tries not to rip the wrapping paper.
This gift was more neutral, a set that contained a wallet and cardholder, both in black. Although Chan hadn’t complained at all, the wallet he had been using was from years ago and the synthetic material was starting to crack and flake away at the edges.
He looks delighted, examining it briefly before pulling out his old wallet and transferring all his cards and cash into this new one. Although it’s not a name brand, you had purchased it at a small shop specialising in handcrafted genuine leather goods at a surprisingly affordable price. It was good quality and suited the simplicity that Chan preferred.
“It's just what I needed,” he says, sounding pleased. “You pay so much attention.”
“I'm glad you like it,” you say, feeling relieved even though you had been pretty sure that he would be happy with it.
The unease comes back when he turns his attention to the second gift. Once again, he puts in effort to gently unwrap it, revealing an old chocolate box that you had repurposed from one of your dates.
You’ve always been on the more sentimental side and had saved it, wanting to remember the evening that Chan had taken you out and the two of you had spent 20 minutes in the shop, meticulously picking out the flavours that you wanted to try. The box is made of a surprisingly durable material and is the perfect size for this gift. You’ve painted over it too, concealing the original design.
Chan turns it around in his hands curiously, before sliding the lid up. You turn away to stare at your hands, overwhelmed by nervousness.
You already know what’s inside. It’s a deck of cards that you’ve transformed, with 52 things I love about you inscribed on one of the jokers. On the flip side, you’ve painted a picture of you and Chan smiling widely with your cheeks pressed together. It’s his favourite, one he always tells you would be permanently on his lock screen if he wasn’t an idol.
The rest of the cards are decorated similarly, a small drawing or painting on one side with the things, people, and places that Chan loves on one side, and something that you love about Chan on the other. The last joker is the only one that's different, you've treated it as a card and have a small message written on.
You had been so excited when you had thought of the idea, even though it was almost embarrassingly cheesy. Chan was often hard on himself, overly critical, and sometimes insecure. You tried your best to reassure him that he was doing well, both in his career and personal life, but you weren’t always able to be with him to do it in person.
As time goes by, your dread just continues to build, but you don't dare look up, not wanting to see Chan's reaction. Based on the silence, he’s clearly not thrilled with the silly idea that you had gone with. You can almost imagine his expression, jaw clenched and lips pressed together as he tries to think of what he can say to let you down easy.
Finally, you can't take it any longer and you lean forward, reaching out to grab at the cards that he's still reading though.
“I'm sorry, it's stupid, I know,” you say quickly. “You can tell me that you hate it, it's okay. I don't know what I was thinking, but just- give me more time, I'll get you something else, something nicer-”
It catches Chan off guard, and instead of successfully taking the cards away, you grapple with them for a second before they slip between both of your hands, scattering across the floor like confetti.
You instantly drop to your knees, scrabbling to scoop them up like the most awful game of 52 pick up that you've ever played in your life. To your horror, the task gets even more difficult as tears start to well up in your eyes.
“Y/n-” Chan says gently, reaching out and taking your wrists in his hands to stop your frantic movements. “Come here.”
You resist for a moment, but he pulls you into his arms, cradling your head so your face is resting on his shoulder. The tears leaking from your eyes soak into the fabric and you sniffle softly.
“I'm sorry,” you say, voice partially muffled. “I'm a mess.”
In response, Chan pulls back slightly and when you don't turn towards him, he taps a finger against your cheek until you face him. Your eyes widen when you notice that he also has tear tracks streaking down his face.
“What-”
“It's okay, I'm a mess too. I should have said it sooner,” he says, voice low and gravelly. Still in his embrace, you can feel the rumble of it in his chest. “I love it. I was overwhelmed, I wanted to say something but you left me speechless.”
“Don't just say it-”
“I've never had a gift so thoughtful, Y/n,” Chan says earnestly. “How could you think this was stupid? You must have spent hours and hours on it and I really appreciate it. It’s just- is this really what you think of me?”
“What do you mean?” you ask.
“Do you really love that-” Chan picks up the closest card to him and flips it so that he can read the message. “That I snore? Y/n, why do you even have this in the list?”
“Yes, snoring was one thing and it's because with everything, there’s always a reason to love it. It's not that I love that you snore, but with your insomnia, hearing you snore is a relief because it means you're sleeping, that you're resting. Even with your insomnia, I know you're busy thinking of every little way you can make things just right for you and the members. It's because you care so much, how could I not love these parts of you?”
“You- you really love all these little things?”
“Of course I do,” you say in a hushed voice. “Of course. When I was making these, I couldn't fit it all. I love everything about you, Chan.”
This time, it's Chan that breaks eye contact, shaking his head as if in disbelief.
“I don't know what I did to deserve you.”
“It's not about deserving. You didn't have to do anything, that's the whole point. I love you just as you are.”
“You know that's how I feel about you, right?”
“Chan-”
“Even if you never got me anything ever again, I wouldn't love you any less. You being in my life, by my side, that's the greatest gift you could ever give.”
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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redeyye · 1 year
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(with a wholly negative view of this movie) im not going to post about the whale im not going to post about the whale im not g
#this post is not an invitation for debate. im a fat person venting my frustrations. i don't care what you have to say abt it even if youre#also a fat person. anyway#im not going to watch it + its not good + i dont really care about brendan fraser#i know theres a chorus of brendan fraser fans waiting to cheer him on and one million thin neoliberals who will#pat themselves on the back for pretending to care about fat people for 2 hours#but like. that does not a good movie make. it just seems really disrespectful. ive read the positive articles and the directors defense#and i gotta say i still think its not a step forward in fat liberation. its a sidestep at best.#i like that its about a fat main character with a real personality right#but im not loving the fact that they chose fraser instead of a fat actor. i know there are so many fat actors looking for jobs#who could have been in this movie. but i wonder if it wasnt a 'fat people didnt want to be in this movie because of the gratuitous#voyeuristic objectifying fatshaming shots. thats fine we can do better than fat people anyway!' type thing.#also the people defending the title like 'noooo its not referring to the guy its about moby dick!!!' like sure but you have to understand#that its STILL leaning into the fatshaming nature of the phrase. like. theres a funny literary term called 'ambiguity' you should#look into it sometime. like yes it is about moby dick. AND you're obviously supposed to immediately think 'oh the fat guy is the whale'#and that's still pretty. hm. fucked up and shitty.#these tags are so long AUGH. i could post this on medium and become a world renowned movie critic /j#disclaimer tho im sure brendan fraser is great i just... dont know much about him. i don't really judge him for doing this movie?#but it has definitely influenced me to care abt him less.
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kissitbttr · 5 months
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miguel with a jealous fiance
-
“stare a little longer and you might actually kill her, y/n” jess chuckles as she follows your eyesight, spotting miguel being flirted by a woman whom you’ve never seen before.
you and miguel are attending a gala fundraiser. run by some rich bastard named ‘bruce wayne’. he didn’t want to go at first, but because mr. wayne had sent the invitations to you both himself, it would be rude not to attend. plus, it’s best if he’s out and try to socialize, make some new friends instead.
but now you’re starting to regret the decision when you see some red haired getting cozy with your man. she keeps touching his arm, giggling obnoxiously at something he said. which pisses you off because your fiancé is not that funny.
Ignoring jess’s comment, you twirl the wine glass softly, emerald green manicured nails clicking against it. you bite the inside of your cheek with cold eyes dead set on the girl. you wanted to laugh at how that woman had been trying too hard to catch his attention.
miguel isn’t doing anything rather than answering without holding an eye contact, casually sipping his whiskey on rock as he searches through the crowd. you could tell he’s annoyed. but it wouldn’t be polite for him to tell her to fuck off, would it?
god, you wish he had the balls to actually do it.
“you know he wouldn’t do such thing right?”
scoffing as if it’s the most stupid question ever, you nod. of course he wouldn’t. he’s too damn crazy about you.
“i know. it’s her i don’t trust” you mutter, almost growling. “that bitch could clearly see he has a ring on his finger. she fucking blind or something?!”
jess could only laugh while shaking her head. she thinks you and miguel are too much alike. a perfect pair. “then show her who’s the boss.”
“oh i will” you respond with hesitation, gulping down every last drop of your drink before setting the glass down on the table. “be right back”
with that, you flick your hair over your shoulder, adjusting the straps of your silky emerald green dress and begin walking towards your fiancé’. jess’s commentary about ‘try not to kill her’ from behind fall deaf upon your ears.
sorry, jess. no promises.
you could feel all eyes on you as you walk. it’s hard not to. men and women craning their shoulders to get a better look at the beautiful woman who looks like she’s invented class and beauty herself. the world completely stop when you walk through the crowd.
and not to be cocky or anything, but you’re fully aware of how gorgeous you are. with curves that look like built by the gods themselves, full plump soft lips and long, beautiful thick hair that cascade down to your back and eyes sharp enough to draw sailors if you were ever a siren.
it’s like looking at freyja the goddess whom paid a visit on earth.
as miguel’s eyes continues to scan through the busy evening filled with mindless chatters, his dark red irises then stop at you. a small grin creeps to his face when he sees you walking towards him with your head held up high.
but your eyes aren’t on him, it’s on the woman.
“i just think, that you are sooo-“
“so what?” you cut her off with a fake smile and arms crossed over your chest. standing beside your soon to be husband, you watch how the woman’s eyes then flicker to your figure. “making friends without me, my love? how impolite”
miguel shakes his head, his hand quick enough to snake around your waist pulling you close. “of course not, mi vida. this is—“
“not interested. so, you wanna fuck my husband?” your voice coming off venomous, glaring at the woman who seems to be shocked at your question.
a sigh escape from miguel’s mouth, one that implies ‘this is not going to be good’
the woman has her mouth hang wide open as she struggles to respond. she can’t exactly decide whether she’s intimidated by you or attracted to you.
“i—i’m so sorry… I didn’t know he had a wife—“
with a scoff, you roll your eyes. “you’ve been eyeing and talking to my man for at least twenty minutes. you’re saying that your eyesight is so fucking jacked you couldn’t even see the ring on his finger?!”
miguel could only stand there and listening to you scold the woman. because if there’s one thing he learned being with you? is that to not meddle or interrupt.
she shakes her head rapidly, stuttering out a nervous response, “n-no! i—i—I did see it, i j-just thought—“
“oh you did see it!” you exhale a sarcastic laugh. “and what, you think it’s okay to flirt with someone else’s husband when clearly he has no interest?! you really think he’s gonna go for you, sweetheart?”
the tone of your voice is far from polite. miguel could sense that, and he squeezes your waist in attempt for you to take it easy on the girl but you only shrug it off and pay no mind to it.
the woman look like she’s about to cry by how you’re scolding her. shaking quiet a bit and embarrassed that her flirty gesture had failed to steal someone else’s man.
“i’m s-sorry… I’m—i—“
“you” your raise your finger at her face. “need to get the fuck out of my sight before i drag you by the hair and beat your ass hard that no one will ever recognize that pretty face of yours again.”
she nods quickly at that, taking her champagne flute before walking away quickly. you’re still fuming on the inside. glaring at the back of that girl’s head until she’s fully disappears.
“damn, mami” miguel lowly whistles, a dark chuckle follows after as he moves to stand in front of you. hand around your waist still attached, pulling you close to him. “you’re so sexy when you get jealous.”
jealous. you hate that word.
everyone needs to know that you don’t take it lightly when it comes to miguel. he belongs to you and vice versa. and if you have to beat a bitch up to get your point across, then so be it.
“let’s get one thing straight, miguel. I don’t get jealous” You emphasize the word as you turn your focus on Miguel, giving him a stern look. “I get territorial. they need to know that you’re my man. I see a girl trying to take over my territory, then consider her fucking finished. you got that?”
miguel can’t argue with the fact that you just turned him on just by saying that. especially when you come off as demanding like this. It’s one of the reason why he fell in love with you.
bossy. ambitious. confident. and Independent. traits that miguel loves in a woman.
he smirks, looking down at you as he clicks his tongue against his bottom teeth. “yes, ma’am” he replies with a nod.
you nod back, crossing your arms. “good.”
“and just when i thought you couldn’t get any sexier” he shakes his head, squeezing your ass before leaning down a bit to give you a kiss on your cheek. “you do”
rolling your eyes, you lightly shove his shoulder. yet you can’t help but blush at the gesture. “easy there… we’re in public.”
he cocks an eyebrow, palm not leaving your ass. “and when has that ever stopped you before, mi amor?”
you bite your lower lip softly, remembering the times when you and miguel had done it over and over outside the comfort of your home.
yeah, both of you are pretty experimental.
“bathroom in 5. don’t keep me waiting”
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venuiscmind · 3 months
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Bartender!Ellie & Co-Worker!Ellie <3.
Just some headcannons for the 3-5 part series im cooking up since I finally have time to write!!! Please show some love for this as it will really motivate me to write more for this. Smut below!
read this.
w.c 1.1k
Bartender! Ellie who has you stunned the first day you see her in her all black, tight, fitted uniform. Sleeves rolled up to her veiny, tattooed forearms, dripping with the syrup from the cocktails she was shaking over her shoulders. Dark, black pants that fit her legs perfectly as she moves around the bar.
Bartender! Ellie who keeps her eyes fixed on you while you bend down to hear a customer's order in the busy and loud bar. You turn feeling eyes on you but only see Ellie turning back to pour a drink for a customer.
Bartender! Ellie who gradually opens the buttons of her black shirt during her shift when it gets too hot, showing off the pale but flushed and sweaty skin underneath, adorned with glinting silver chains.
Bartender! Ellie who flirts back with all the pretty girls who press themselves against the bar trying to give her their number. (She throws them out after every shift because they’re lacking something she can't place).
Bartender! Ellie who is immediately in the face of a man who has stepped a little too close to you and has gotten too loud and rude for her liking.
Bartender! Ellie who drives a pretty, sleek car to work and is constantly offering you rides to and from work because you shouldn't have to worry about driving yourself.
Bartender! Ellie who keeps you up till 5am after your shift texting you about anything and everything she could think of to keep you talking, all because she liked hearing you talk.
Bartender! Ellie who pull off her shirt over her head and immediately sinks against the heat of the shower but can't get you out of her head for some reason.
Bartender! Ellie who is constantly offering to make you drinks after your shift when the bar has been closed down, leaving only the two of you to lock up together.
Bartender! Ellie who has to keep her eyes focused on pouring your drink instead of looking at the curves of your form sitting up on the top of the dark marble counter. Her heart (and other places) flutter seeing you like this.
Bartender! Ellie who's tattoo flexes while she clenches her fists when you're not looking, trying to keep herself grounded while she watches your legs cross atop the bar, something she would never be able to catch if she hadn't secretely swapped shifts to be able to lock up with you.
Bartender! Ellie who takes off her apron and button up shirt to change into a loose dark hoodie that makes you swallow hard. She pulls up her hood letting loose tendrils of hair fall out of it before manspreading and turning her keys in the ignition.
Bartender! Ellie who keeps on the silver rings she wears during her shift to clench the steering wheel as she speeds into your neighbourhood blaring music with the windows open at 4am after work. (She later swears she wasn't even driving that fast).
Bartender! Ellie who has to take a breath when you invite her into your house which is impossibly tidy and she actually offers to take off her shoes because of this.
Bartender! Ellie who has to hold back her questions of whether she can marry you or not when you offer her glasses of water and bits of food you can scrounge up for her.
Bartender! Ellie who stares at you, feeling her pupils dilate and her breathing turn rough just looking at you standing in your kitchen.
Bartender! Ellie who stands up and hooks her arms around your middle and rests her head on your shoulder as you do the dishes at 5am.
Bartender! Ellie who begs you to "please tell me I'm not the only one who feels like this because I can't keep ignoring this because fu-".
Bartender! Ellie who is shocked when you turn around to put her face in your hands and smile at her, inches from her face, stroking lovingly. When she slowly moves forward you pull back an inch wanting to savour this look on her face, basking in the mutual desire that you both felt.
Bartender! Ellie who whispers " are you sure"? against your lips with her green eyes boring into your own. You nod, and murmur "Yes ellie, I've been sure for weeks" and press your soft lips into her soft and slightly chapped lips.
Bartender! Ellie who has to move her hands from your hips to the counter to steady herself once she allows herself to give into the sensation of kissing you. She can't think with her hand and mouth full of you, and only you.
Bartender! Ellie who pulls back and finds herself being pulled into your bedroom, your fingers interlaced with hers, never leaving her seperated from you again.
Bartender! Ellie who sits back on your bed, watching in awe of the woman before her, as you strip off your work shirt and pants, leaving you in your soft underwear in the light of dawn, peaking through your curtains.
Bartender! Ellie who grips your hips like her life depends on it when you climb into her lap and lies back against the sheets, face and skin turning pink as you press yourself against her toned body.
Bartender! Ellie who lets you strip her down in kind and lets you kiss down between her tits, pawing at them as you press your lips against the soaked spot on her black boxers. She has to remember to breathe when you pull them down leaving her in nothing.
Bartender! Ellie who feels exposed and vulnerable, shaking underneath you while you lick and slurp against her soaked pussy, tasting her like she was the sweetest thing in the world.
Bartender! Ellie who groans out "oh fuck me, right there"- and holds your head gently against her clit when you suck on that spot that has her arching off the bed, her eyes rolling back into her skull. She wraps her legs around your head and shoulders and begs, actually begs you not to stop because she is so fucking close to cumming all over your tongue.
Bartender! Ellie who forgets to breathe again when she feels your fingers press against her slicked and soaked entrance and push into her causing her to melt, shake and press against you to push them deeper inside of her.
Bartender! Ellie who cums when you suck just at the right time with your fingers pushing in and out of her, hitting that sweet spot in her over and over.
Bartender! Ellie who pulls you up by then chin to kiss you, and taste herself fom your mouth and brings your hand up to your lips to taste her again. She then kisses you deeper than you had ever been kissed, tongue invanding your senses until all you can think of is her and her only.
LOL i actually got so horny writing this but hope you enjoyed!!! more to come very soon i promise <;3. - Venuis!
Btw asks and submissions are open so give me some inspo plsplspls xxxx
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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 4 months
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❤ Yandere Teacher ❤
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▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
Female reader
WARNINGS: Teacher-Student dynamic; Non-Con.
Merry Christmas! 🎄💖
--
◾ Yandere!Teacher who immediately gets interested in you.
You don’t seem anything like most college girls, maybe because you don’t throw yourself at thim, batting your eyes at him and pushing your chest out in hopes of catching his attention, like many of your colleagues do. 
He knows why they do it. He’s young and attractive, teaching in a college whose reputation is the definition of academic excellence.
◾ Yandere!Teacher who will personally organize the classroom layout, making sure you get the best seat in the house, which coincidentally happens to be right in front of his desk. That way he stays close to you, his eyes often drifting to you as he lectures the class.
◾ Yandere!Teacher that frequently interacts with you, asking if you wanna share an exercise's solution or requesting for you to read out loud a text.
Your reactions are the cutest, he thinks. The adorable way you get shy, sinking into your seat like you want to melt against it and disappear. 
◾ Yandere!Teacher who wholeheartedly believes you to be a talented student, although your grades are mediocre. You are brain and beauty, the perfect combination.
Hence why he adds a few additional points to your grade, wanting to see that beautiful smile of yours instead of ugly disappointment, 
◾ Yandere!Teacher that is fully aware of how wrong it is to have a crush on you - his student - but he can't stop himself from imagining how a relationship with you would look like. The way you’d hug him, pushing your warm lips against his, happy to see him. 
He imagines romantic picnic dates, with you perched on his lap while feeding him strawberries. 
And even worse is when his mind drifts to the two of you creating a small family together. He knows you’re both relatively young but he’s certain that together you could be the best of parents. 
◾ Yandere!Teacher that stalks all of your social media, seeking for anything that could give him more insight on you. What are your hobbies, what type of movies do you like, do you post photos with your family or friends,...
In reality, he’s accidentally clicked one too many times on the like button, panicking before hastily removing it. You never mention it during the classes, but sometimes you give him a weird look. 
◾ Yandere!Teacher that progressively grows frustrated with your lack of interest towards him. While most girls shamelessly throw themselves at him, you don’t. A distant expression and face ducked down as you take notes is all he gets from you.
Even when he accidentally bumps into you around campus, it's a struggle to get you to open-up as he tries to do small talk with you. 
◾ Yandere!Teacher whose blood boils when catches you laughing and joking around with a guy.
He wants to drag you away from the asshole before punching a hole into his face, his imagination running dangerously wild as he imagines all the things he would do to the student, just for making you laugh like that. 
But he doesn’t get mad at you. No, it’s not your fault. You have a kind heart, which automatically makes you naive - unable to see the other guy’s evil intentions.
He doesn’t care about you, he’s probably just thinking of ways to get inside your pants. 
◾ Yandere!Teacher who invites you to stay a bit longer after class, in order to discuss some aspects of your individual project. He notices the nervous way you fiddle with your fingers, uneasy to be alone with him. 
He doesn’t understand why. He loves you and he’s never been anything but kind towards you. 
Your anxiety only increases when the older man places his hand on top of yours, starting to confess the ardent admiration he has for you and how much he thinks you’re gorgeous.
That he feels a special connection between the two of you, something very precious. 
Despite his best attempts of convincing you that you are meant to be together, you’re too stubborn to accept it peacefully. You scream and shout like a crazy girl, scratching and pushing him as he tries to reason with you. 
◾ Yandere!Teacher who ends up bending you on his table, pushing your cheek pressed against the cold surface as he forcefully fucks you, his lips passionately kissing every inch of exposed skin, inebriated on your sweet taste. 
You cry and whimper, his scarf shoved inside your mouth as he punctures you with deep, sharp thrusts while whispering apologies in your ear.
He uses you as a flashlight, setting a fast pace as his cock bruises up your insides till your core is aching and desperate for him to finish already. 
◾ Yandere!Teacher who didn’t mean to break you like this, your pitiful swollen face making him feel bad about what he did, but at least now you know about his feelings for you. 
He’ll make it up for you when he takes you back to his apartment. A warm shower and a good night's sleep will improve your mood. He’ll persuade you to be with him, to accept him.
He knows he’ll be successful eventually and maybe after a few times of making love to you, you’ll also see his side. 
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kelseytheballerina · 9 months
Note
what comes after level 0? like, level 1; 2; 3; 4; 5; etc.
Level 0 is getting yourself to a base level of daily self discipline, taking care of your health and appearance, and having things to do besides scrolling all day. The bare minimum of feeling good about yourself long term and being a functioning person.
Level 1 is to figure out what’s wrong with your life and come up with a tangible and measurable plan on how to fix it. What to cut out, what to invite in, how long it’ll take to save up for xyz, what credit score you need for such and such, what habits need to be dropped immediately, etc. Figuring out how to go from who you are now to the early stages of who you want to be. Level 1 is coming to terms with who and are and what you want, doing the research, and making a game plan. It's making sure you don't keep sliding backwards. Why is this level 1 and not level 0? Bc when people are in a subpar place, taking an audit of how they’ve failed themselves leads to more despair and a feeling of hopelessness. People who have gotten themselves to a semblance of health and daily discipline will do this and feel revved up for a challenge.
If you’ve been working out every day, eating well, taking care of your looks, enjoying your hobbies and taking 30 minutes to build a skill you’ve always wanted to learn, you’re gonna be feeling great. And when it’s time to sit down and apply for new jobs it won’t feel as daunting. When it’s time to sit down and write that essay, it won’t be as hard. When you decide to start saving $200 a month, you’ll be excited about it instead of feeling deprived. Level 1 is a very short level and you shouldn't be here for long at all.
Level 2 and up will vary greatly from person to person as it's about putting your money where your mouth is and really putting in work. No more info hoarding, no more restless nights trying to figure out what you want. It's go time. It could include more schooling, working, rebranding yourself, putting yourself out there, not buying new clothes or eating out bc you're saving money hardcore, ramping it up at the gym, or whatever else you planned out. You stfu and do the work. It's uncomfortable bc you won't allow your brain to sabotage you into stopping. You're becoming a new person. Level 2 will likely last a long time since rome wasn't built in a day and whatever you're trying to accomplish will probably take a fair amount of work.
Level 3+ is simply when you are reaching milestones and you are able to assess where you are and see what lies ahead. You have to replan, reformulate, and get back to work. You have to decide if you should keep this job or accept that new offer you just got and weigh out the pros and cons of each. You have to push a bit harder to firmly cement yourself into the next area rather than remain a newbie. At this point, you're a bit of an authority figure. You know what you're doing and you've been at it for a while. This is totally your new normal. This is just your life now.
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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months
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DC X DP: The Summoning Conditions of the Ghost King.
Danny Fenton is new to his title.
It's been about two years since he defeated Pariah Dark and inherited his seat through the right of conquest. Now Danny knew, on some level, that Pariah was King of Ghosts, but in all honestly, he had been preoccupied with getting his town back from the zone and keeping his friends and family (and the rest of the town, he guessed) alive.
The victory had been just within the lines of a fair fight, only because a dew ghost argued that his shifting his dad's ecto-skeleton suit was a form of armor only after his power ran over it.
If Danny had fought in the ecto-skeleton suit without doing so then it would not have been considered a fair fight as it wasn't his own strength, and thus, he would not won the right of conquest.
But he did. And now Danny was crowned Ghost King. Which came with all sorts of responsibilities and proper conduct for someone of his new stature.
Many ghosts were willing to teach him the way- Princess Dora, Clockwork, Frostbite, Ghostwriter, and even the Observants- but Danny struggled to adjust. He had no idea being King meant he had to play diplomat to the literal multiverse- as the Ghost Zone or Infinite Realms touched every possible world at every possible time- and follow specific rules of being a Ghost.
A vampire could not entire a home without being invited in.
A fae could not take control over a human without knowing their name.
And a ghost could not make a chance to the living plane without meeting requirements, like an agreement on a contract.
That was why the Ghosts never passed Amity Park's limits and why Pariah Dark had chosen to take the town into his domain instead of expanding his attack. The Fentons have unknowingly created an open contract with anything that could get past their portal by opening it up and claiming themselves the protectors against ghosts kind.
If a ghost could defeat everyone in the Fenton household- as the ground of where the zone was open and the beings calling that location a home- then they would become the portal's rulers and be able to leave the city. Thankfully, that contact applied to Danny, and he had never lost, no matter who challenged him.
His ghost sense activated the contract, alerting him of a new challenger. After finding his family contract, Danny had thrown a fit in the Ghost King's Keep. Thankfully, he could close it with the help of Clockwork, who agreed to be his final challenger, and once he won, the portal was forever closed.
Danny then discovered he had to create his own Ghost Conditions as Phantom, The Protective Spirt of Amity Park, and Phantom, the Ghost King. He argued with the Infinite Releams council, something he installed to help him rule and to lowkey have them continue to govern themselves with his own laws, keeping them from killing each other- until his core began to deteriorate the more he neglected his Ghost Conditions.
Clockwork has to intervene, telling him in little words to write up his Ghost Conditions and have them ready in a month or experience his soul being ripped apart by nature.
Danny agreed to write up the Conditions as soon as he could....and then did what any sixteen-year-old teenager would do with a work assignment. He procrastinated until the night before it was due.
Panicked, he sat down in front of his laptop to write, telling his parents he had a big essay due and could not answer any calls until late.
At three am of the following day, Clockworked appeared for his Ghost Conditions which outlined his limitations and certain requirements for Danny to operate.
He worked hard on Phantom, The Protective Spirt of Amity Park, to allow him to live everyday human life and shift into a ghost to protect his town whenever he needs to. He ensured that he could not be used to cause human death by a weapon in a mortal war, and his condition for working on behalf of a human was to have a recommendation letter from both FrostBite and Clockwork out of both ghost-freewill.
He figured it would make it practically impossible to make him a weapon or make him do anything against his will. He didn't want to end up like Ember or Desiree, who relied on mortals to get power, but he also did not want to be so obsessive about protecting something he forwent everything like Sculker or Walker.
He spent so much time on it that he forgot to leave time to work on the Phantom, and Ghost King lists until his eyes were dropping closed and Clockwork was messaging him that he was on his way to both lists.
Danny panicked and wrote something down- hoping he would redo the assignment later on- just to have something to turn in. The lack of sleep and stress caused him to not think clearly.
When he woke seven hours later, he realized this wasn't just some English assignment he could ask his teacher to let him redo. This was set in stone conditions and said conditions had already been passed around the multiverse. Some of his work even appears in his timeline, in some ancient civilization, thanks to Clockwork flinging copies of his Ghost Conditions into time portals.
Thank the Ancient Cores that Danny had copied and pasted the parts of about not making him a weapon for mortal wars or mindlessly killer. He hoped that it wouldn't come to bite him in the ass.
It bit him in the ass a week later when an alien threat so big the Heros of the Justice League were so desperate for a counter-attack they allowed Batman to attempt to summon the Ghost King even at the Justice League Dark's warning.
Batman had known about the Ghost King's Summoning Conditions from his time with Ra's Al Ghul. It was, after all, Ra's civilization that had been the one to find Danny's list from Clockworks time portals.
Danny knew this because one of the conditions was letting him know of the human's intention before they could summon him. He honestly heard whatever Batman was thinking and whatever the man could hear.
"Bats, this is baty even for you!" A disembodied voice hissed. Danny was startled so hard on his bed, having been scrolling on his phone when the British man spoke.
"If we can convince the King that the lives of Earth are at risk, he will aid us in the battle. He can not kill humans, but the aliens are not human." Batman answered, and Danny felt his core drop. Oh no. a loophole.
"Or he could kill everything around in a fit of rage!" The other man yelled. "No one understands the Ghost King! His Conditions were so open-ended anything could happen!"
Hey, Danny thought they were pretty solid, actually.
"Doesn't matter. We are out of options." Batman replied, and between one moment and the next, Danny was floating above a summoning circle, still wearing his snowflake pajamas- complete with a large holding- his phone in the same lying on his stomach position.
Thankfully, he was in his ghost form.
"What-"
"Phantom, Ghost King, I call upon you for aid. The lives of all human life are at risk of destruction." Batman said, his thoughts silent like the grave, and Danny had no idea what he was thinking.
Danm. Danny's wording of "Knowing a human's intention before summoning the King" meant that he could not hear the human's intention once the summon happened. Maybe his language was too open-ended.
"Ugh." He slowly sat up in a cross-leg position, eyeing the gathered heroes. It looked like all of the Justice League was present- all looking worse for wear. Whatever aliens were, the League wasn't kidding when they sent out an emergency shelter notice. "Um, that is...Well, you see, the funny thing is you have to pass some trials before I can help you. Batman Sir."
The Dark Knight showed no outward emotion as he nodded even as a few heroes seemed confused by Danny's nervousness. "I will undergo them."
Please disagree. Danny wanted to scream, flushing a bright green. He wrote those trails in two minutes. They are embarrassing!
Instead, he heard himself say as if speaking from his frozen ice core. "You must pass all my trails. The first shall begin right now and you must have opponents of those you cherish the most. They must be someone you love so much that the thought of them hurting will destroy you. They must take part now or drop dead if they refuse."
A glowing green snowflake appears under the feet of five individuals in the crowd. Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan and Spoiler.are dragged to the front of the crowd, to stand next to Batman in the Ghost Kind's trails.
Batman froze and a man in a trench coat swore. "I warned you!"
"Wait!" Flash yelled, but it was too late. The Ghost King Trails had already begun. Danny wanted to scream, but he felt his body move one arm up, creating a sizeable frozen slate of ice to hover over the heroes.
A familiar song filled the air as smaller slates appeared before each hero. Words slowly carved across the large and small ice, much to the confusion of everyone present.
"Is...Is this Kahoot?" Red Robin dared to ask, watching the words finish being made, and the Kahoot music continued to count down.
Danny wants to hide his face in his hands, but he instead shouts, "The first to twenty is the victor and shall be the one I shall give my aid to! Now time is running out, humans, pick your answer for... Question one...According to the Ghost King, which Gotham hero has the best ass?"
Ding.
Everyone turned to Orphan when she quickly pressed B. on her ice tablet. Since she was the only one who moved in time before the timer ran out, her answer was displayed before all eyes.
She chose correctly. B. for Red Robin.
Orphan shrugs at Red Robin's gape. "His Highness' eyes did a slow up and down when they spotted you. It wasn't hard to guess."
Danny thought making a Kahoot was fast, and no one would be able to guess the answers to questions about himself. He thought it was foolproof.
He was wrong.
"Question two: Which is the prettiest star in the Milky Way!" Danny shouts in a pompous tone that contradicts his embarrassed frown and glowing green blush.
The heroes of Gotham stare at him before they all press A for Sirius.
"How!?" He asks when all of them get the answer right. Right now, Orphan is winning, so she is the closest to his contact dealer.
"You're wearing the star on your nightcap," Red Hood deadpans.
"Q-Question three.....What is the Ghost King's favorite Holiday?"
Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.
Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood, Spoiler, and Orphan picked D. for Halloween but only Batman chooses correctly with B. for Valentine's Day.
He does not explain how he knows that, and Danny is starting to worry the greatest detective in the world is going to figure all his answers out, and he will end up serving them.
Sweating, he moves on to the next question as John Consistent watches on, wondering if he indeed was an Occult expert as he thought or not because none of what was happening was what he thought would happen.
They may stand a chance yet.
Master Post Link
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jongseongsnudes · 6 months
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bff!jake. 1.8k words. suggestive content with a petty, bratty you and a horny jake.
“jake.”
silence.
“jake.”
more silence.
“sim jaeyun!”
“what? what’s with the government naming and shaming?”
“you’ve been on your phone for two hours,” you sigh and turn to him, “if you didn’t want to do movie night, you should’ve just stayed home.”
instead of putting his phone down like you had expected him to do, the man tilts his screen towards you, showing you a picture of a girl in her undergarments. you recognised that face almost immediately, a cheerleader, famous not for her cheers but her track record with the football team.
and the only player she hasn’t been with, being your very own best friend, jake sim. as someone so easily tempted like jake, you’re actually surprised that she left him til last.
“look how hot she is, like come onnnnn. and she wants me,” he shoves his phone closer towards you with a smug grin, making you roll your eyes yet again.
“and the rest of the boys on campus,” you don’t mean to sound so bitter but you are, irritated at your best friend literally drooling at his phone. again. she had been all he could talk about for the past two days, constantly showing you the pictures she supposedly sent only to him and their wild sexting.
you’ve really had enough of hearing about her.
“i know but who cares when she’s this hot. oh shit- she’s actually inviting me over toni-”
you don’t bother waiting for the rest of his sentence and get up for the kitchen, wanting to just get away. why you got up so abruptly or why you’re suddenly feeling so annoyed, you have no idea, but you definitely don’t want to listen to him obsess over her anymore.
to call it jealousy would’ve been pretty much correct, but you’re not going to admit that him, hell no. never.
you met jake on the first day of college, and you two have been inseparable since. whether it was going to classes, getting drunk at parties, or just lounging about on off days, you guys were always together. and it was all fun and platonic until you realised something.
that you actually enjoyed jake’s attention. full attention.
but of course being that attractive and a jock, came with a sea of followers who literally threw themselves at him at every given chance. you can only do so much to keep him to yourself but he seemed much more persistent this time with the cheer chick.
“are you actually mad?” jake’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, his footsteps telling you that he had just entered the kitchen, “i’ll make it up to you, we’ll have movie night every night next week.”
“i’m not mad.”
“doll,” his voice is suddenly low as he closes the gap between your bodies, his hand nonchalantly slipping around your waist to hold you from behind, “you know you’re the prettiest in my eyes right?”
and this is why you’re so delusional, so strung up on this man, so in need of his attention. because he acts this way with you like it’s the most normal thing between friends.
“come on,” his lips are suddenly right up against your ear as he says so, his chest pressing into your back more when you don’t respond. you could feel your breath faltering with how close he is, so close that the smell of his cologne is literally attacking you from every direction possible.
and god was it doing something to you.
you’ve lost count how many times you and jake were this close, often enough getting looks from others because of it. but that never bothered you. the only thing that did bother you about all this was sexually but that was something you dealt with on your own. in your bedroom. in secret.
*ding ding*
and the moment is interrupted by the message notification on his phone, something he was way too eager to fetch from his pocket. it immediately irks you the wrong way, literally egging you on to be petty.
“it’s fine, go,” you say nonchalantly, “i just texted taehyun anyway and we’re gonna hang out tonight instead of tomorrow. all works out.”
“as in, kang taehyun?” the way he immediately looks up from his phone tells you that you’ve just successfully gained his attention. “that smug fucker? why the hell are you talking to him?
this was plain evil. jake despised taehyun, the two having been rivals for the longest of time, and you knew this better than anyone. so for you to supposedly be hanging out with him was definitely more than a shock to jake.
“yeah. i met him at that party last week.”
it was becoming harder to hide your own growing grin, especially with the way jake was now following behind you back to the living room. like a lost puppy, wanting your attention.
“how? you were with me the whole time at that party.”
“well it happened and he seems reaaaally nice. so i’m going over to his tonight.”
the instant change on his face is one you don’t miss, knowing for a fact that your pettiness was reeling him in. low of you but hey, it was working.
so you go even lower to seal the deal.
“i need your help with something actually,” you turn to face him, fluttering your eyes a little like you weren’t currently fucking with his head, “i bought a few things i haven’t tried on yet, will you help me pick one for taehyun?”
without waiting for a response, you pull him towards your room and set him on the bed as you rummage through the cupboard for sexiest thing you could possible find.
and thank the heavens you bought two new lingerie sets last week. lacy ones too.
exactly what jake sim likes.
“so. i have a red set and a black set. should i try it on for you to see?”
“uh- i- i mean if you want to- yeah-”
you take that as the cue to slip your shirt over your head, putting your cute bra on full display, knowing damn well it was affecting him in more places than just his eyes.
hint hint, the forming bulge in his sweatpants.
without hesitation, you take a seat on his lap, your back facing him. jake’s hands are quick to grasp onto your waist, holding you securely on his lap, making you more comfortable like the true friend he was.
“can you help me with my bra?” you make sure to wriggle yourself a little, head slightly turned back to the man who had just visibly gulped. it was so, so evil of you, to play him like this when you knew how horny he was.
he makes a little hum of acknowledgment before his hands get moving but he doesn’t do what he’s asked. instead, the man begins rubbing along your shoulders, sending shivers through your entire body with how cold his fingers were. you could feel him lean forward, his face now slightly buried in your hair, smelling you.
and damn was he making it harder for you to stay sane.
“you’re fucking perfect, you know that?”
“i...”
for a moment there, you forget what you were actually trying to do. that you’re in the midst of trying to tempt your own best friend into skipping his pussy appointment. weird? slightly. do you care? no.
“i... i mean i hope taehyun will think so. i wanna impress him tonight.”
“doll,” his voice is even lower than before, his arms now making its way across your bare stomach, hugging you back to him, “you’re too good for him.”
it takes everything in you to not fall apart when jake’s lips meets the sensitivity of your neck out of the blue, leaving behind just one kiss. one single kiss but enough to have you clutching onto the material of your shorts, your breath now heavy in your throat.
it was something you felt whenever jake was around lately. no matter what he did, your mind would go haywire at the simplest things. whether it was bumping your shoulders, rubbing your head or even brushing his fingers through your hair, it all drove you insane.
and that’s not to mention all the random hugging, waist grabbing, cuddling that he already did on the daily.
“anyone would be lucky to have you like this, no need for anything extra.”
“you think so?”
“yeah pretty, i do,” the way that word rolls off his tongue so naturally causes your insides to literally tumble, your entire body now heating up and on overdrive. everything is becoming too much for you. his whispers, his lips, his hands on your bare skin, his erection rubbing against your ass. everything.
you turn your head a little more, your eyes finally meeting his. he was so close that one more movement and you’d be kissing him. there’s a look in his eyes, like his inner thoughts are fighting with each other. to be fair, the man looked miserable and you’re almost certain it’s all because of you.
you notice the way his gaze drops to your lips for a moment before going back up to your eyes. perhaps you were crazy but you swore he leaned in even closer, his breath now on your lips... seemingly about to close the gap. to kiss you.
but he doesn’t.
“i... um. i gotta go,” he says it more so for himself than for you, the man now pushing you to stand up by the waist, “don’t go to kang’s house. i don’t like the idea of you being there with him by yourself.”
jake gets up almost immediately as you do, literally disappearing out of your room before you could even grasp onto the situation. the words “call me” was all he said before you hear the front door slam shut, leaving you alone in your apartment.
humiliation is the only thing that could describe you right now, after being left high and dry like this by jake for another chick.
you sit down for a minute and decide that going out tonight would likely be better than being left alone with your wild thoughts. maybe you’ll even be lucky enough to have someone distract you for the long night ahead.
distract you from your thoughts about your best friend and the obvious fact that you wanted more than just his full attention.
you wanted jake sim.
end. to be continued maybe?
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scuderiahoney · 9 days
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Oscar Piastri x Reader // In Motion Pt. 5
Summary: one plane ride, a little sunburn, and far too many margaritas to count. 6.0k words
Warnings: alcohol, mention of previous sports injury
It’s a lazy Saturday morning. You’d showed up at the house an hour ago and planted yourself on the couch. Charles had been in the overstuffed armchair, and he’d barely batted an eye when you walked in, too engrossed in his TV show. Lando and Max had wandered downstairs eventually, and piled onto the couch with you. One by one, everyone else wakes up and comes downstairs. They have practice in a couple hours, but none of them are in a rush. Instead, they all choose to scatter around the living room. Charles turns on Planet Earth. Everyone’s engrossed by it.
“Hey, my aunt wants to know if we still want the house for spring break,” George says, looking up from his phone as a school of fish swims by on the TV screen.
Lando, whose head was previously buried under a pillow, sits up. “Obviously.”
“The house?” Oscar asks, and when everyone turns to look at him, he deflates. “Sorry, none of my business.”
George’s phone rings, and he answers and wanders off into the kitchen, chattering away. You’re perked up now, blinking around the room. There are smiles on everyone’s faces, now, at the mention of spring break. You’re all in desperate need of some time off.
Max turns to look at Oscar, arms raised above his head in a stretch. “Piastri. D’you have any plans for the break?”
“Not really?” He says, shrugging.
Max nods. “Cool. You do now.”
Max flops back over onto the couch, and so does Lando, effectively burying you once again.
Oscar turns to look at you, brows furrowed. “What did I just sign up for?”
You sit up from underneath Lando and Max, who groan loudly. “George’s aunt has a really nice beach house. We go there for spring break.”
Oscar raises his eyebrows. “Oh. You know, I didn’t mean to invite myself, and you guys-“
“Shut up,” Lando says, face half buried in the arm of the couch. “You’re going. It’s tradition.”
…..
The only thing worse than navigating an airport is doing it early in the morning with 6 hockey players in tow. You’d think they’d be good at travel with all the away games, but they’re not used to having to get themselves places. Lando almost leaves his luggage at the house, Max almost forgets his whole wallet, and you’re sure Alex would’ve been left behind completely if it wasn’t for Lily. Oscar’s the only self sufficient one, likely because he’s been living on his own for so long now. You think of him having to travel to games with his old team, wonder if he wandered around airports alone, and your chest aches. But he’s next to you, smiling brightly, suitcase in hand and clad in a hoodie and sweatpants. Lando’s ordering a beer from the bar. It’s 6am.
Max tries to usher the whole group towards the gate, like he hasn’t been the most scatterbrained person all morning. You let him feel like he’s in charge. It helps his ego. It’s not long before people get distracted- George wants a bagel, Charles wants to look at souvenirs, which is ridiculous considering you haven’t left yet, and Lily wants coffee. Max looks panicked as everyone starts to wander.
You clear your throat. “Okay. Lily, George, and I are going to that coffee shop,” you say, pointing at the one nearest your gate, “to get breakfast and coffee. Charles and Max will go in the shop. The rest of you can join whichever group, or you can wait at the gate. We’ll all be back here in 20 minutes.”
Max looks relieved, even as Charles drags him towards a stand full of license plate magnets with names on them. You head for the coffee shop, and find Oscar’s opted to join, too. Lando and Alex stay at the gate, guarding all the suitcases.
An hour later, you’re all seated on the plane, much to your and Max’s relief. George booked the flights for everyone so he could use his parents’ airline miles, and so you have no idea where you’re sitting until you actually get on the plane. You slip into your window seat, and Oscar stops at your row with a smile. He’s in the middle. George is on his other side. Up ahead, you see Lily, Alex, and Charles, and Max and Lando in front of them. You pity whoever the stranger is that will have to put up with Max and Lando in their row. Oscar helps put your carry on up above, and everyone settles in for the flight.
After takeoff, you push the window shade up. The sun is just barely starting to rise, and you’re already exhausted. Oscar leans close to peer out the window. He hums softly, pointing down below.
“You can see the house from here,” he points out, and you laugh.
He’s right. You can. The house, the ice rink, the soccer fields, they all disappear below. You wave goodbye, and Oscar laughs and does the same. Then you lean over and fall asleep, head resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind.
…..
The eight of you descend on the beach house in a flurry of activity. It’s bright and sunny out, and you all wear sunglasses as you haul the luggage into the house. George points everyone to their rooms- you’re glad to learn you have the same one for the third year in a row, up on the second floor, with a nice view of the ocean and a room to yourself. Lando and Oscar are sharing, as are Max and Charles. Lily and Alex get a room, and George gets his own room. Charles offers to take your luggage upstairs for you, and you accept happily.
By the time everyone returns downstairs, you’ve made a grocery list. Max looks at it over your shoulder and nods in approval. There’s a little store within walking distance that should have everything you need. When Max suggests you all go to help carry bags, Lando groans loudly, already complaining about a headache or a sore back or whatever ailment will get him out of it. In the end, it’s you, Max, Charles, and Oscar who head off to the grocery store.
When you get back, you unload things in the kitchen, the four of you moving around each other with ease. Oscar drops the juice and you giggle, Charles hugs the bag of cheese puffs to his chest like a little kid, and Max starts pulling ingredients to make a late lunch.
“M’hungry,” Lando calls out.
“Thought you had a headache,” you call back, smirking as he walks into the kitchen.
“Back ache,” he corrects, smiling sheepishly. “Come on, you know plane seats suck.”
You roll your eyes at him, but you hand him the bottle of painkillers you picked up at the store. He gives you an easy side hug in thanks. Lando offers to help Max make lunch, and you retreat to the back deck for the first time this trip. You breathe in deep as the sun hits your skin, as the sound of the ocean fills your ears. It feels like the whole world is in front of you, stretching on and on.
Oscar walks out behind you, doing basically the same. “Wow.”
Alex and Lily are down near the water, and when he spots the two of you, he waves you over. “Low tide!” He calls out, grinning widely. “There’s starfish!”
You turn to Oscar with a grin, and then the two of you run down the shore to meet them. The stress of the school year starts to slip off your shoulders. For now, it’s just sun and sand and nothing else.
…..
Spring break, as it always does and definitely should, tastes like pineapple and coconut rum and frozen margaritas made in the ancient blender that somehow still works. It smells like sunscreen, the reef safe kind that Oscar insists everyone uses. It feels like sand stuck between your toes, like the crash of the waves against your legs, like the heat of the sun on your skin.
“Why couldn’t you guys be, like, professional surfers?” You ask, face half pressed into the giant beach towel you’re laying on. “This is where I’m supposed to spend all my time, not in an ice box.”
Max laughs and tosses a foam football at you. “You chose the school, too, you know. And you love watching hockey.”
“Max would be shit at surfing,” Charles pipes up, and though his eyes are hidden behind sunglasses you can tell they’re crinkled with amusement. “He is not very good at balance. Like Bambi.”
Max scoffs, picks up the ball he’d thrown at you, and chucks it at Charles’ head. Charles dodges it with a squeak and runs after it in the sand. Max follows, likely afraid of the retaliation that’s coming his way.
“Osc, you’re from Australia,” you say. “Have you surfed?”
Oscar’s laid out next to you, in the shaded portion of the blanket thanks to the umbrella George put up. He burns easily, apparently. You’d told him that you weren’t surprised, based solely on the pale tone of his skin, and he’d glared at you unhappily and then chased you into the waves. Now he lays there, face smashed against the blanket, same as you. It’s mid afternoon. He’s usually a bit sleepy in the afternoons, you’ve found.
He nods, prying one eye open. “Not any good, though.”
You scoff out a laugh. He grins back at you. There’s sand stuck in his eyebrow, and you’re about to reach out and brush it away when a shadow falls over you. You look up and find George standing there. Lily, Lando and Alex are following him up the beach.
“Margarita time?” George asks, grinning happily. You push yourself halfway up, propping up on your elbows, and nod your head. “It’s always margarita time, Georgie.”
Dinner that night is grilled shrimp and veggies and bread warmed up in the oven that all the boys eat too much of, promising not to tell their coaches. Someone asks Oscar to say “throw another shrimp on the Barbie,” which then devolves into bad attempts at Australian accents, which then further devolves into bad attempts at everyone’s accents. You’re left laughing so hard your stomach hurts, the sun setting, the warm ocean air washing over your arms on the back deck.
Oscar’s sitting next to you, and he wipes your tears of laughter away with a napkin and says, “You alright, love?” in what can only be a bad attempt at Lando’s accent.
You snort with laughter. The noise sends Oscar into a fit of giggles, too, and soon the two of you are bent over in your chairs, heads bumping into each others, as Lando tries to insist he doesn’t sound like that and Max assures him that he definitely does. When you finally catch your breath and sit up, they’re moving on to mocking Sebastian’s accent, because they always start making fun of their coach eventually. Lily’s watching you, though, a knowing look in her eyes.
You sit on the beach blanket next to the water after dinner, another margarita in your hand. There’s far too much salt on the rim- courtesy of Alex, who’d coated nearly the whole cup in it- which makes it taste a bit like the ocean. Oscar’s sitting next to you, a cup of his own in his hand. The sun is low in the sky, the horizon turning the lightest shade of purple as it turns to night. Oscar’s bare thigh brushes against yours, and you hold your breath.
The back door to the house slides open, and you turn to look. It’s Charles. “We are going to the store,” he calls out. “Are you coming?”
You wrinkle your nose. “None of you are driving, right?”
Charles shakes his head. “We will walk. We want snacks, and we are out of tequila.”
You nod. “I’ll stay here!”
“Me too,” Oscar adds.
“Okay, I am trusting you two,” Charles teases. “Don’t burn the house down.”
Charles calls out something unintelligible and probably not in English. Inside, you hear Max yell for him, also not in English. The door shuts. Oscar sucks in a sharp breath. There’s tequila in your bloodstream and salt on your lips and the heat of his leg next to yours. You close your eyes, the sea breeze dancing over your skin, and you can still feel his lips on your cheek after that game, weeks ago now. You sit for a while, basking in it.
A few minutes later, present day Oscar’s shoulder bumps against yours. You open your eyes and turn to look at him. His cheeks are rosy pink. You wonder if he’d put enough sunscreen on.
“This is really nice,” he says, softly.
The sand is turning cold beneath your feet. You shiver slightly. He leans into you, warm arm pressed to yours, thigh pressing tighter against your skin. Your heart stutters in your chest.
“Mhm,” you agree, blinking softly at him and biting your lower lip, just to watch and see the way his eyes dart across your face. “George’s aunt is a sweetheart for letting us stay here.”
Oscar hums in agreement, but he shakes his head, hair flopping over his forehead in a soft swoop. “I meant… this.”
He nudges his leg against yours. Your stomach lurches in the best kind of way. He’s leaning back on the heels of his hands and staring at you while the waves crash onto the shore. His thumb brushes against the back of your hand, tiny grains of sand rolling between his skin and yours. You feel the electricity simmer up your arm and zap down your spine.
“Oh. Yeah,” you say, nodding in agreement. “It is.”
You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry or scream. He’s so close you swear you can feel his heartbeat, or maybe it’s just yours, pounding in your chest, going wild over the way he’s staring at you. He lifts his hand from the sand, the one farthest from you, keeps his other arm pressed to yours as he turns just slightly. When his hand comes up to cup your cheek, it feels so familiar. You remember blue paint on his thumb, brushed off on his pants, the poster leaning against the wall and his lips on your cheek. You want it again. You want more. You swear he leans in.
There’s a loud noise from inside the house, and he drops his hand into his lap. Your heart twists in your chest. You can feel the ghost of his fingertips on your skin when the back door opens. George yells something about playing flip cup. You don’t want to play flip cup- you want to stay here with Oscar and let him kiss you like you thought he was going to. But his hand is in his lap now, and he smiles sheepishly and starts to stand up, and you wonder if you imagined all of it.
…..
Two nights later, when everyone has gone to bed, you find yourself still wide awake. You’re buzzing, probably from the afternoon coffee you grabbed with Charles and Oscar at the cafe down the street. Max had said it was a bad idea. Charles is dead asleep upstairs, because caffeine has never really affected him. You’re busy thinking about two nights ago, Oscar’s hand on your face and the way he looked at you. You know it happened. You swear it happened. He’d been about to kiss you. Right? Maybe you're imagining things. Maybe it’s all in your head.
You’re sitting on the couch near the window, the glass of water Max poured you before he went to bed sitting half empty in your hand. You nearly spill it when someone clears their throat. You know without turning to look that it’s Oscar.
You stare out the window at the ocean. “Might go take a walk down by the water,” you suggest, just to see if he takes the bait.
Oscar hums. “I’d better go with. For safety, you know.”
You nod in agreement, not really seeing the need to protest. It’s a silly excuse, but you want him to come with. The two of you head for the doors, slipping in sandals along the way. The night air is cool, and you shiver slightly as you make your way down the beach. The sand is still sun warmed but cooling fast. The crash of the waves against the shore makes you sigh softly.
Oscar’s only a few steps behind you. The moon isn’t out yet, but you catch sight of a few stars in the sky. You stop at the spot where the waves meet the sand, and he walks up next to you. When you turn to look over your shoulder, all the lights in the house are off except the living room light the two of you left on. Oscar looks, too, and then steps closer. You feel like you should hold your breath, but you don’t. The air smells like salt. You wonder if the smell has seeped into Oscar’s hair and skin, or if he still smells like his shampoo and body wash. You hate that you know the scents of both.
“I love the ocean,” Oscar says, not for the first time that day.
You nod. “Me too.”
His fingers brush against yours where your hands hang at your sides. It sends a zap all the way up your arm, straight to your spine. Does he feel it too? That giddy feeling in your chest? The anxious feeling in the back of your brain? The want, deep in your gut, that makes you want to turn and press your lips to his. Does he feel it, too? You’d take a kiss on the forehead. Or another kiss on the cheek. Or just- if he would just move his hand a couple inches, just intertwine your fingers with his-
Like he’s read your mind, he does. He twists his fingers between yours loosely. You nearly choke on your own breath. Get it together. Your heart aches. You need, you want, does he?
“I…” he starts, then stops.
You turn. He’s already looking at you, face half lit up by the light on the back deck of the house. His lips look soft. They were, the one time you’ve felt them, pressed to your cheek in that hallway. His fingers fidget in yours, but he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either. The waves crash onto the shore over and over again. The sleeve of his hoodie brushes against your jaw when he cups the side of your face in his other hand. This time, you’re sure of it. You know what’s coming. He leans in, and you close your eyes.
If a kiss on the cheek sent butterflies wild in your stomach, this sends them through your whole body. Every nerve is on fire when his lips meet yours. Maybe it’s just because you’ve been waiting for so long. He’s warm against you, and his hand leaves your wrist to wrap around your waist and pull you close, and he tastes like rum and salt and smells like sunscreen. You tilt your head and let him deepen the kiss, let him take the lead, let him in. He’s smiling into it, and it makes your heart ache. When you tangle your hands in his hair, you can feel the sand stuck there, can feel the salt that still coats the strands from his swim earlier in the day. His hand slips to the back of your neck to hold you closer, and you melt for him, for the way he holds you so carefully and so surely, the warmth of him burning up your skin. He giggles into the kiss, light and airy and so Oscar it almost hurts, and you can’t help but match it.
He kisses you for what feels like forever. You can’t find it in you to complain.
…..
The rest of spring break tastes like coconut rum and tequila and Oscar. It feels like sun and sand and his hand wrapped up in yours, sneaking away at any chance you get. It smells like sunscreen and his cologne on the hoodie you stole from him, and it sounds like seagulls and his laughter, and the words he whispers into your ears when nobody’s nearby.
He steals you away while you’re in town, wandering the shops with everyone. He’s good at melting away into a crowd- and it is crowded, it’s spring break and everyone’s had the same idea as you. You hide in a souvenir store while you watch your friends disappear, and you don’t even feel guilty about it. You can’t, not when Oscar’s tangling his fingers with yours and pointing at a little beaded bracelet he says would look good on you. When he takes it up to the counter and buys it, and then loops it around your wrist for you, you feel absolutely giddy. You feel it even more when he kisses your temple sweetly. You rejoin the group a while later, just as they’re starting to worry. Nobody notices the bracelet, but you run your fingers over the beads all day.
Later in the week, he suggests a trip to the ice cream shop when everyone’s half asleep, mid afternoon. You’re tired, too, but when he says it, you suddenly feel wide awake. Once the two of your are out of sight of the house, he pulls you under his arm, hand squeezing at your shoulder the whole walk there. He buys you ice cream and shares his with you, too, and when he stops to kiss you on the walk back he tastes sweeter than ever.
There’s a lot of that- kissing. Anytime the two of you are alone. It’s overwhelming in the best way. Like the two of you have been holding back for so long that you can’t quite find it in you to stop. You sneak out of your rooms after everyone has gone to bed and meet on the beach at night, just the sea and the stars bearing witness as it all falls into place. You point out constellations, and Oscar tells you about the night sky in Australia, and how it feels different here. He finds you seashells admiring the way and gives them to you at night, and you start doing the same, each of you building up collections. They cover the empty space on the nightstand in your room.
One afternoon, you walk to the park nearby, all together, with a little picnic. It’s sweet- Max and Lando throw a football back and forth, and you sit in the grass and have cheese and crackers and fruit and watch people pass by. Eventually, George, Alex, and Lily head back to start dinner, and then Max, Lando, and Charles leave to pick up drinks on the way home. You and Oscar linger, though. They make it so easy to sneak away, really. You take the chance to lay on the blanket with him, your bed on his stomach, staring up at puffy white clouds in the big blue sky. His hand draws patterns on your shoulders.
When you finally head for the house, you walk past a set of soccer goals on a patch of grass. It’s easier, now, especially because it’s not the field where you got hurt. Oscar squeezes your hand anyways. It’s sweet. Something makes you slow to a stop. There’s a ball sitting there, in the middle of the field, black and white in stark contrast to the green. You drop his hand, and he makes a mild sound of protest. You walk over to the ball and toe at it gingerly, feeling the way it rolls under your foot.
He just eyes you carefully,
“We’ll take it easy,” you promise, and he nods. “I just…”
You can’t explain it. For years, you’ve never wanted to go near a soccer field or goal or ball. For years, this idea has brought tears to your eyes. But right now, you want to try. Oscar takes a step closer. He’s smiling.
You kick the ball at his feet. He passes it lightly back to you. The two of you exchange a look and take off down the grass together. You zig zag to every corner of the grass, not trying to get anywhere in any sort of hurry. You build up speed as you get closer and close to the goal, passing the ball back and forth with him. It feels good, to move your body and feel the grass beneath your feet. To feel the ball bounce off your shoe, to watch him accept the pass that you’ve placed so perfectly. You’re rusty, stiff, out of practice, but a little part of this still feels like home. There’s an achy feeling in your body that starts to melt away.
You don’t even realize what you’re doing, at first. He passes you the ball, and you’re in range of the net, and- you dart around him, eyes on the prize, now. He laughs, tries to go after you, catching on nearly immediately. But you’re too good at this, too fast- he’s used to blades on his feet and ice beneath him, not tennis shoes and grass and a ball rolling in front of you. You look up, find the goal, see your spot, and kick.
It sails through the air, hits the net, and falls to the ground. Goal. Behind you, Oscar cheers loud enough that when you close your eyes, you can imagine it’s all still there. That you’re really playing soccer, in front of a crowd again, scoring a goal, taking your team to a victory. You soak it in, for just a moment.
When you open your eyes, you’re on your back, staring at the sky, Oscar’s face looking down at you. His brows are furrowed.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” He asks.
You shake your head. You know the tears in your eyes must contradict that. Oscar shifts on his feet for a second and then collapses to the ground next to you, legs kicked out away from yours, his head right next to your shoulder. The two of you form a little v on the grass, staring up at the sky.
“I didn’t realize how much I missed that,” you admit. “The… running, and the chasing, and the… scoring.”
His hand brushes against yours, then comes down to lay flat atop the back of it. His palm is warm and soft. You try to breathe normally. It’s easier said than done.
“You could always try again,” he says, quietly. “Do a club sport, or a league of some sort…”
You shake your head. “Nah, my knee is already starting to hurt.”
You rub your fingers against the ache. He sighs, heavily, and squeezes your hand. You turn your head to look at him. He’s close, closer than you realized. It wouldn’t take much for you to lean in, and nobody else is here, so you do. Just a short kiss, because you’re laying on a soccer field and there are kids and families nearby. But you want him to know how much this means to you. When you pull away, his cheeks are pink, and you think he understands.
Eventually, you know everyone will start to wonder where the two of you are. So when Oscar stands up and offers you a hand, you let him pull you up off the ground. He brushes grass off your back, and when you get back to the house, you head upstairs to change and hope nobody questions the grass stains on your shirt.
One night, after everyone’s in bed, you curl up on the beach on a blanket, your head against his chest. You listen to the waves and stare up at the stars. He draws lazy patterns on your back, his hand against your bare skin under the sweatshirt you stole from him.
“This is a real thing, right?” He says, quietly. “Not just a spring break thing?”
You smile into his chest, your cheeks suddenly warm. “God, I would hope so.”
“Okay, cool,” he says, in a very calm voice, like you can’t hear the thud of his heartbeat. “Cause I‘ve wanted this for a while.”
“Me too,” you murmur back.
Then he kisses you again, hand under your chin to pull your face to his. He’s a little sunburnt, and you can feel the heat of it on his skin when you brush your lips against his cheeks. Then again, maybe he’s just blushing. The way he smiles makes you think that might just be it.
…..
Keeping it from the rest of your friends is sort of… unspoken. It’s easy, like this, just the two of you. Easy to kiss and hold and talk and laugh without the pressure. You try to remind yourself that it’s okay to take it slow. That you have time to figure things out. And it’s easier to figure things out when you don’t have 6 other people’s opinions on it, let alone the whole team’s once they all find out. Whenever someone walks into the room and Oscar pulls his hand from yours, he scans your face, like he’s checking to make sure it’s okay. You always smile in return, and he lets out a little relieved sigh.
The very last night, you all order large amounts of pizza and breadsticks, and you spread out on blankets on the beach for dinner. The sun is low in the sky, and everything is golden. Oscar finds a spot next to you, laid out on the blanket. Max is already talking hockey plays, Lando listening intently while Alex rolls his eyes. George, Charles, and Lily are chatting about starfish. And Oscar is watching you, eyelashes fluttering against pink tinged cheeks. He’s being painfully obvious. When you smile back, you know you are too. For a moment, though, it doesn’t matter. Nobody’s paying attention anyways, as he brushes his fingers against the back of your hand where it lays on the blanket. It’s just you and him, for just a moment.
The next morning, before you head to the airport, you wake up early and find Oscar in the kitchen, cutting up fruit. His hair is a tousled mess, eyelids heavy, but when he sees you, he smiles, bright and warm and sweet. You walk over and slip between him and the counter, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“I was busy, you know,” he mumbles, though he doesn’t pull away when you lean in to kiss him.
“Mm,” you sigh. He tastes sweeter than normal. He’s definitely been sneaking bites of fruit as he goes. “Mango. My favorite.”
His cheeks are flushed. “Thought I was your favorite.”
You shrug and wink. “Close second.”
He swipes a piece off the counter behind you and presses it to your lips. You give him a closed lip smile as you eat it, feeling warm all over. He leans in and kisses you again when you’re done chewing, and you have the sudden, strong urge to pull him close, to press your hips into his, to let him pin you against the counter. But your friends are probably all about to wake up, so instead, you pull away and press a finger into the swell of his cheek. He laughs and kisses the furrow between your brows.
“Heading home today,” he mumbles, smile falling slightly.
You nod. “But it’s not just a spring break thing, remember?”
He nods again, the smile coming back to his lips. “Yeah. Just. Do you think we need to tell them?”
You know what he’s talking about. Or who he’s talking about, really. You tilt your head, chewing on your lower lip. “Do you think we need to?”
He sighs, nose bumping against yours. “They’re your best friends.”
And. Oh. Right. You hadn’t really thought about it like that, that it’s not just his teammates and your friends. It’s Lando and Max. Your chest twists. You like that it’s just you and Oscar, but you think about them, about how you share everything, and you wonder if they’ll be upset. Not even that it’s him, but just that you didn’t tell them. On the other hand, they’re likely to get overprotective and weird when they do find out. Max banned a guy you went on a date with from all parties your sophomore year, until Charles told him off for it, but by then it was too late. The guy was a jerk, which was half the issue, but still.
You blow out a puff of air, and then you have an idea. “I might… tell them I’m seeing someone, to start,” you suggest. “Just not who. Just… someone. Is that okay?” You ask.
“I think that’s a good idea,” he says.
“Okay. Cool. Me too,” you say with a nod.
Oscar giggles. You hear a door open, and footsteps. He groans, and you lean in one last time to press a kiss to his lips before you slip away. You sit down on a barstool just before George walks in, scrubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Morning,” he says, voice scratchy. “Ready to go home?”
“No,” you admit, and Oscar hums in agreement.
When he dishes out the fruit to everyone later, he gives you most of the mango. You grin up at him, wide eyed and feeling so, so happy. When you break his gaze and look across the table, you find Charles staring back at you, a knowing smirk on his face, and you wonder if you’ve been caught. Maybe you just look like a girl with a crush. You still feel like one, really.
You all walk down to the water one last time, dipping your feet into the waves as they crash against the sand. Oscar’s hand brushes against yours as he does the same. You don’t want to ever lose this feeling. The sun on your skin, the water tugging at your feet, and Oscar, next to you, feeling the same way you do.
When you pack the bags into the Uber to head for the airport, you feel a wave of sadness wash over you. You want nothing more than to stay, to never worry about school again, to let Oscar wrap you up in his arms and never leave. You pout, and Max catches you, laughing and pulling you into a loose hug.
“It’s okay, Bunny,” he murmurs, ruffling your hair. “We’ll be back before you know it.”
You don’t say it, but you think it- he and Lando are graduating this year. There’s a good chance they won’t be back next year, too busy with work or real life or whatever comes after college for them. Your heart twists. And Oscar- will he still be yours by then? Not just a spring break thing, you remember, but you have a strong urge to plant your feet in the sand and try to keep them all here. You watch your friends pack bags in the trunk and tease each other and laugh and your chest aches.
“Hey,” Lando says, quietly, sneaking up your other side. “We’ll be back.”
He knows. Max does too, but Lando really knows, because you think he feels it too. Max is trying to play hockey after college, but beyond beer leagues and pickup games, this year will be it for Lando. Senior year is exciting, but it’s a year full of lasts, too.
“Promise?” You ask, quietly.
He links his pinky with yours. “Promise.”
So you climb into the car, and you end up wedged between Oscar and Charles in the row of seats at the back of the car. Max is in the front seat, chatting away to the driver, and Lando’s already leaning his head against the door, half asleep. You press your shoulder into Oscar’s. He spots your hand on the seat between you and reaches out, brushes his fingers against the back of your hand. When you lean your head on his shoulder and let your eyes fall half closed, nobody questions it- you do it to all of them, all the time.
The beach house disappears in the rearview. Oscar presses a kiss to the top of your head when nobody’s looking, and you start to believe everything will really be okay.
bunnyrabb1t
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen33, and 53 others
bunnyrabb1t truly a spring break to remember forever
landonorris still annoyed you and @/oscarpiastri didn’t bring me ice cream back :(
oscarpiastri You were invited & you called our ice cream trip dumb
landonorris doesn’t mean i didn’t want ice cream
lilymhe always a trip to remember with you babe!
bunnyrabb1t ilysm bb 😘
alex_albon hey. back off 🤺
oscarpiastri 🩵☀️🌊⛱️
bunnyrabb1t 🩵🌅🐚🕶️
charles_leclerc 🤨
carlossainz55 charles you are just jealous he is actually on her instagram before you
notes: hiiiiiiii hope this one was worth the wait!! if you are one of the people who told me you were staying up late for this: go to sleep! this is me tucking you in! see ya soon!!
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