#france student jobs

[edugoabroad]

Study and Work in France | Find Part-Time Jobs in France for International Students | Edugo Abroad

Are you studying in France and looking for a part-time job to support your stay? Look no further! In this video, we break down everything you need to know about finding part-time work as an international student in France. From tips on job searching to understanding work regulations, we've got you covered.  Whether you're navigating the French job market for the first time or looking for advice on balancing work and studies, this video will help you make the most of your time in France. Got more questions? DM us @edugo.abroad, and we're here to help!  Visit our website for more details: https://www.edugoabroad.com/ or Contact us on: +91 70690 07131/32/33/34  SUBSCRIBE NOW for more such videos: YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCJlDZP7ujFD0E3eJjY_kdAA Follow us on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/edugo.abroad/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/edugoabroad LinkedIn: https://in.linkedin.com/company/edugo-abroad Twitter: https://twitter.com/Edugo_Abroad

[missxlouve]

yooo tumblr

don't know who needs to hear this but after posting my ridiculous declaration four years ago here on Tumblr that I'll move to France one day, I did in fact move to France. permanently (for the foreseeable future).

applying oneself, believing in one's dreams, perseverance, all that bullshit etc. etc.

looking at this old teenage depression outlet blog, one could say that i've come a long way. now my depression outlets are medication, healthy coping mechanisms, and my local bar where i'm the only one drinking Perrier. progress???

[lets-steal-an-archive]

By Bernie Sanders | July 13, 2024

I will do all that I can to see that President Biden is re-elected. Why? Despite my disagreements with him on particular issues, he has been the most effective president in the modern history of our country and is the strongest candidate to defeat Donald Trump — a demagogue and pathological liar. It’s time to learn a lesson from the progressive and centrist forces in France who, despite profound political differences, came together this week to soundly defeat right-wing extremism.

I strongly disagree with Mr. Biden on the question of U.S. support for Israel’s horrific war against the Palestinian people. The United States should not provide Benjamin Netanyahu’s right-wing extremist government with another nickel as it continues to create one of the worst humanitarian disasters in modern history.

I strongly disagree with the president’s belief that the Affordable Care Act, as useful as it has been, will ever address America’s health care crisis. Our health care system is broken, dysfunctional and wildly expensive and needs to be replaced with a “Medicare for all” single-payer system. Health care is a human right.

And those are not my only disagreements with Mr. Biden.

But for over two weeks now, the corporate media has obsessively focused on the June presidential debate and the cognitive capabilities of a man who has, perhaps, the most difficult and stressful job in the world. The media has frantically searched for every living human being who no longer supports the president or any neurologist who wants to appear on TV. Unfortunately, too many Democrats have joined that circular firing squad.

Yes. I know: Mr. Biden is old, is prone to gaffes, walks stiffly and had a disastrous debate with Mr. Trump. But this I also know: A presidential election is not an entertainment contest. It does not begin or end with a 90-minute debate.

Enough! Mr. Biden may not be the ideal candidate, but he will be the candidate and should be the candidate. And with an effective campaign taht speaks to the needs of working families, he will not only defeat Mr. Trump but beat him badly. It’s time for Democrats to stop the bickering and nit-picking.

I understand that some Democrats get nervous about having to explain the president’s gaffes and misspeaking names. But unlike the Republicans, they do not have to explain away a candidate who now has 34 felony convictions and faces charges that could lead to dozens of additional convictions, who has been hit with a $5 million judgment after he was found liable in a sexual abuse case, who has been involved in more than 4,000 lawsuits, who has repeatedly gone bankrupt and who has told thousands of documented lies and falsehoods.

Supporters of Mr. Biden can speak proudly about a good and decent Democratic president with a record of real accomplishment. The Biden administration, as a result of the American Rescue Plan, helped rebuild the economy during the pandemic far faster than economists thought possible. At a time when people were terrified about the future, the president and those of us who supported him in Congress put Americans back to work, provided cash benefits to desperate parents and protected small businesses, hospitals, schools and child care centers.

After decades of talk about our crumbling roads, bridges and water systems, we put more money into rebuilding America’s infrastructure than ever before — which is projected to create millions of well-paying jobs. And we did not stop there. We made the largest-ever investment in climate action to save the planet. We canceled student debt for nearly five million financially strapped Americans. We cut prices for insulin and asthma inhalers, capped out-of-pocket costs for prescription drugs and got free vaccines to the American people. We battled to defend women’s rights in the face of moves by Trump-appointed jurists to roll back reproductive freedom and deny women the right to control their own bodies.

So, yes, Mr. Biden has a record to run on. A strong record. But he and his supporters should never suggest that what’s been accomplished is sufficient. To win the election, the president must do more than just defend his excellent record. He needs to propose and fight for a bold agenda that speaks to the needs of the vast majority of our people — the working families of this country, the people who have been left behind for far too long.

At a time when the billionaires have never had it so good and when the United States is experiencing virtually unprecedented income and wealth inequality, over 60 percent of Americans live paycheck to paycheck, real weekly wages for the average worker have not risen in over 50 years, 25 percent of seniors live each year on $15,000 or less, we have a higher rate of childhood poverty than almost any other major country, and housing is becoming more and more unaffordable — among other crises.

This is the wealthiest country in the history of the world. We can do better. We must do better. Joe Biden knows that. Donald Trump does not. Joe Biden wants to tax the rich so that we can fund the needs of working families, the elderly, the children, the sick and the poor. Donald Trump wants to cut taxes for the billionaire class. Joe Biden wants to expand Social Security benefits. Donald Trump and his friends want to weaken Social Security. Joe Biden wants to make it easier for workers to form unions and collectively bargain for better wages and benefits. Donald Trump wants to let multinational corporations get away with exploiting workers and ripping off consumers. Joe Biden respects democracy. Donald Trump attacks it.

This election offers a stark choice on issue after issue. If Mr. Biden and his supporters focus on these issues — and refuse to be divided and distracted — the president will rally working families to his side in the industrial Midwest swing states and elsewhere and win the November election. And let me say this as emphatically as I can: For the sake of our kids and future generations, he must win.

Bernie Sanders is the senior senator from Vermont.

[talentconnectworldwide]

5 Epic Hacks To Get US Visa For Students Now!

Obtaining a US visa for students requires careful planning and adherence to immigration regulations. While there are no "epic hacks" to guarantee a visa, there are some tips to improve your chances:

Begin the application process early and gather all necessary documents.

Demonstrate strong ties to your home country, such as family, property, or a job offer.

Show evidence of financial stability to cover tuition and living expenses.

Prepare for the visa interview by practicing common questions and confidently explaining your study plans.

Seek guidance from your educational institution's international student office or consult with an immigration attorney.

Stay informed about current visa policies and requirements.

Maintain honesty and transparency throughout the application process.

Remember, each case is unique, and success is not guaranteed. It's essential to approach the visa process responsibly and seek professional advice when necessary.

[theworkingsociety]

Job: English Language Teaching Assistant (Must speak French)

Deadline 24.03.2023 :: Nigeria (Role based in France)

France Education International is looking for French-speaking Nigerian students and early graduates for an English Language teaching assistant position in France. The programme is for 7 months between 2023 and 2024, and applicants must have a minimum B1 level in French.

More details here.

P.S. If you came here looking for the Manifesto Seeds Experimental Writing Workshop, click here. Sorry about the wrong link.

[prettyboykatsuki]

later, then | i. rin

✮ tags ; gn!reader, pre-relationship, tooth-rotting fluff, rin in his actor era, assisstant!reader. this is sfw but i am an 18+ blog so minors do not follow me lol.

✮ wc ; 1.4k

✮ a/n ; a comm for @rabbbitseason that i had to rewrite a couple of times. i rlly liked being able to write something like this. i hope u like the direction i ended up going in sdjksdj

✮ synopsis ; on his last day of filming rin tried to keep you out of his thoughts.

"Rin-kun,"

He knows your voice well enough to know it's you before he even opens his eyes. "Hn,"

"We'll be shooting your scenes next," You say, tapping his shoulder lightly. "They told me to wake you up."

It's not like Rin to fall asleep on a set somewhere, no matter how tired he is. He's usually the type to push through it no matter what. It's petty, but it feels like he's lost otherwise.

He was exhausted before hand though. Months of shooting and he still can't get used to his schedule.

He's here from a morning flight from France that he took all the way back home to Japan. After he arrived, he immediately hailed a cab and busted ass to get here on time. He would normally rest on his journey but found he couldn't bring himself to actually fall asleep.

Professor Heartbreak is a Japanese TV drama (airing domestically lived and internationally on Netflix) and Rin's first acting role. The series follows a romance between a graduate student caught in a lot of debt and her relationship to one of her pupils, college student and heir to mega corporation.

Rin has never had any interest in acting, and had even less interest in acting in a romance drama. His manager however urged (read: forced) him to take the offer, emphasizing how good it would be for his public image among other things. Of course, Rin still declined but no matter what he did - he couldn't actually seem to get out of doing it.

He's off-season now though he started filming during. He can say with confidence there's nothing he likes about the job. No matter how much his manager or director insists that all he needs is to have a pretty face - there's still a level of annoying obligation he feels towards doing it.

The reception was more positive then they were expecting. Apparently Rin is a half-decent actor. He's not playing a character he feels is so different from him, if not much more cringe.

Rin plays the love interest Yukio. Not very expressive and rich with a tendency to chase what he wants. Generally aggressive about the female love interest.

It doesn't suit him and he doubts he'll do it again. But a lot went into getting the role. If he's going to do it at all, he might as well do it well.

Rin hates shit that's half-assed after all, lukewarm acting doesn't suit him.

Today is the last day of shooting and happens to be one of the last scenes. Shooting is sometimes chronological, but not always. Regardless, after today it'll be the last time Rin steps foot on this set. No more long nights, or trying to memorize lines, no more out of place press runs. The practice season will start again and he can go back to the busy he's been used to since the debut of his soccer career.

That also means it'll be the last time you and Rin spend time in the same room. It's the first thing he thinks of when you wake him.

Rin sits up and carefully rubs his eye, careful not to disturb the makeup he wears for set.

"When the fuck did I sleep?"

You laugh under your breath, handing him a water bottle like you already knew he would want one. He takes it from you and takes a long drink trying to wake himself up.

"Been a little over an hour. Hour and a half, maybe. Did you sleep okay?"

He scowls, just slightly. "It was fine."

"I'm glad you slept well," You add, voice full of mirth and amusement as you read between the lines said all too easily.

He was moody when he came on set with you, worse then normal and refused to sleep. You suggested he rest his eyes and Rin scoffed at you for thinking he's so stupid. He's not a kid you can trick into going to sleepy.

You conceded easily, made a single sly comment about hoping he's all there when it's his turn. It'd be a shame if he had to keep shooting the same scene and ended up home late after all. Enough of a provocation to submit to your stupid suggestion.

Rin supposes this was why his manager hired you in the first place. You're in a temporary position, your contract to be in place until filming is over and Rin's back on normal scheduling. Rin realized pretty early on that you're more like a glorified babysitter then an assistant which is why he didn't have very pleasant expectations of you at the start.

But you're competent. Push without pushing too far. Clever even when it's annoying. You've known each other for a year and the only thing that binds you is work but you're with him all the time. Maybe it's just the job, but it still feels like you know him better then most.

Not like he cares.

Realizing he was tired enough to sleep and goading him into doing it are two separate things though. But you've managed both pretty easily which he can admit is a feat. You're always like that. You remind him a little of another annoying striker in that way.

A quiet settles between you. Rin gropes around for his phone, checking his messages and the time. Still a few hours until the set wraps and no doubt social obligations afterwards. He groans.

"I'm going home after we're done shooting,"

"You can't," You say, apologetic. "Manager says you have to show your face during the after party."

"That doesn't make any fucking sense."

"You're the main male love interest, you should at least drop in for a little bit. Have a beer, unwind."

"I don't like drinking,"

"A soda then. Don't be so stubborn."

Rin huffs, carefully pushing a hand through his hair careful not to mess up the styling. There's a beat of silence.

"Are you going?"

"To the drinking party?"

Rin looks at you as if to ask isn't it obvious. You just chuckle.

"Why?" You tease. "Will you stay longer if I go?"

Rin pauses. And it's quiet for just a second too long before he realizes. You seem to understand the implication almost instantly.

Even before Rin who catches himself just a second too late.

"...I don't mind staying with you until you've filled your quota. If that's what you're asking." You supply.

Rin frowns, faint warmth creeping his neck. "Then do that."

You fight back a smile. "Sure, sure. What time were you thinking of leaving?"

"As soon as possible," He says bluntly. You laugh that time. Brightly. Sincerely.

"Seems like a waste. You can handle fifteen minutes without me, right? Doesn't feel like I need to go if we're gonna part ways so soon anyhow."

Rin pouts. A petulant, ugly feeling in him. He speaks without thinking. "You're saying it like we're never gonna see each other again,"

You both catch it.

"Are we?" You're grinning at him where you stand next to him, eyes cast down to look at his face. He fights off a blush but fails to keep from turning red. Fuck. "Seeing each other again, I mean."

He doesn't know what it is exactly that makes him answer the way he does.. "No shit."

You grin, beam really - and your fingers brush his hand on the couch. Rin jolts, clearly in deeper than he thought.

"Okay. Then let's go together and get something to eat after," You say, coy. "Since we're seeing each other again,"

Rin rubs a hand on the nape of his neck.

"Shut up. Fine. Whatever,"

You laugh again no longer hiding it. He hands his water bottle to you as he gets called onto set. Standing to his feet, he takes a breather to stretch out all his limbs.

You give him a mischievous smile, staring at him openly when something seems to strike you. Like you've just realized something.

"Rin-kun. Bend down a little. I need to tell you something."

Confused but not concerned, he complies without thinking.

You place your copy of the script strategically to obscure both your faces, and in a single split second - Rin feels something soft and warm press against his cheek followed by another giggle like a bell chime. He flusters, instantly scowling and tomato-faced and nearly cussing as you look so self-satisfied.

(Warm. So warm where you linger on his skin. Hot where you've touched him despite how brief.)

"For good luck. I'll see you later then. Knock 'em dead, okay?"

He curses under his breath before they call him one more time and he watches you disappear to go do the other half of your job. He puts his hand to his cheek and takes a breath.

Stupid. He closes his eyes and buries the explosion of feeling in him as he replies to no one in particular.

"Idiot."

[starwolf-and-marauders]

Okay jegulus au where regulus was sent to a school in France so he wouldn't 'follow in his brother's footsteps' but they keep in touch like sending letters and (when they're old enough to have phones) they video call etc. Sirius had been sent to Spain, where he met the love of his life and his best friend. Fast forward to when they study for college, they both study in those countries bc they've grown to love them and their friends are there (the Rosiers are French, barty is italian but his father wanted him away *ouch* and dorcas has been living there since she was small). And then one day, Regulus' college/uni requires that students get jobs all over the world, (and they pay for whoever can't afford, but the blacks are filthy rich) , so reg chooses spain to see his brother. He would stay with him, but there is a little complication. Sirius had moved in with Remus just a couple of weeks ago, and regulus did not want to be a third wheel. So he tells Sirius he's finding an apartment on his own, but most are rat holes and all the good ones are too far away from his job. But do you know whose apartment is close to reg's job? James'. :) they fall in love in the process of course

[patito-oward]

Always Been You

masterlist

Prompt: And the other is about how Pato falls in love with the reader, just how he says "oh yeah she's THE ONE"

since this prompt was pretty vague I took a lot of liberties with it, but I still hope you like it :)

Summary: After being dumped by his long term girlfriend, Pato realizes everything he’s ever wanted in a relationship has been right in front of him

WC: 4.1k

It happened very suddenly. Here’s the thing, Pato didn’t mean for it to happen at all. On the list of things he had planned for the year, this was definitely not on it. A 500 win? Definitely. A championship? Yep. Extending his contract with Mclaren? Right again. But starting the off season by being dumped by his long term girlfriend and realizing he’s in love with his best friend was not anywhere in his mind.

It all started at the last race of the season, Pato was leading the championship, and granted he got a podium on this race he would finally have his championship victory. To celebrate and support, almost everyone he knew came to Nashville. Pato rented out a block of rooms at a hotel, and one of the many people who showed up for him was his childhood best friend, YN.

So maybe it all started in 2008, when YN and Pato were in second grade and met on the playground at recess. YN was sitting on the swings reading a book when Pato approached her, he was new to San Antonio and didn’t have any friends, and wanted to know if they could be friends. From then on the two were inseparable. Pato was a daredevil at heart, and would often hurt himself, and YN would take the delicate time of walking him to the school nurse and kissing his injuries better. Pato always made YN laugh, and made sure she was never sad, no matter what happened in YN’s life, Pato was there everyday to make her smile.

As they got older their relationship changed, it lost a little bit of their childish innocence, but they grew so much closer. YN was at Pato’s first win in karting, and she was more excited than he was. When YN’s childhood dog died, Pato was at her house at 6:00 AM and spent the whole day with her, trying to cheer her up. They’d even started their own holiday traditions, every year on Christmas Eve, the two of them spent the day making cookies together and exchanged presents. YN had practically become family, she didn’t have the best home life, and the entire O’Ward family was so loving that she ended up spending more time with them than her actual family.

The two dated for a few months in eighth grade, and were each other’s first kiss, but when Pato began racing for F4 and was in France every weekend the two agreed it was best they just stayed friends. Since then that is all they had been, things in YN’s home got significantly worse as they went through high school and despite whatever Pato may have felt, he knew she needed his friendship and wasn’t willing to risk their relationship.

With Pato coming up through Indycar and YN being a full time student and having a job, it was easy to assume the two would drift after high school, that was never the case. They still saw each other everytime Pato was in Texas and Pato made sure YN made a couple of races every year. She remained his biggest supporter as he went from her hometown best friend to the most popular driver in Indycar.

Fast forward to now, things were going pretty perfect for Pato. He finally won the 500, he’s about to win the championship, and he’s got a great girlfriend, Maria. He figures he’ll marry her, he does love her, she’s supportive and nice and insanely hot. They’ve been dating for over a year and things have been going really well. The only time they’ve ever really fought is over YN, when she found out there was a “history” between them, and in hindsight Pato realizes maybe he should’ve told her sooner, but he never really thought about it. Yeah they’d dated for a few months a lifetime ago, but she’s always just been his YN, he doesn’t even think of her like that anymore. YN was one of the most sure things in his life, and sure for awhile he always thought what if?, but that was in the past.

All that being said, he didn’t think twice about inviting her to Nashville to watch him possibly win the championship. YN wasn’t able to make it to the 500, or any other race this year, and he wished she was there. She knew more than anyone how much this had meant to him, coming up after losses she was always the person he went to, and he wanted her to see him now that it had all been worth it. YN was reluctant to come, but after a lot of begging from Pato she agreed.

Thursday night he made sure everyone he invited out came to dinner with him at a steakhouse. There were 20 people at the restaurant, but Pato ended up with Maria sitting next to him and YN sitting across next to Elba. Maybe Pato should’ve realized it, the tension in her shoulders and how Maria’s smile tightened as he laughed at YN’s jokes, but he didn’t. So Maria sat there all night, and she really tried to be understanding, but she felt as if she was third-wheeling her own relationship. She had to listen to a million inside jokes she didn’t understand, and watch as his family fawned over YN.

It was at that dinner she realized that she’d spent a year dating a taken man. Pato was too good of a man, she knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but it became undeniable. As she watched him, she realized everything she felt for him, he felt for the woman across the table. At first she felt possessive, the need to prove that he was her partner, and that no matter what he’d chosen her over YN, but as time passed she felt less possessive and realized that there was no way to continue the relationship. It wasn’t fair to her, she deserved a man who loved her and only her, and Pato deserved to be with the person he loves.

After the dinner, they headed back to the hotel where Pato, who was utterly clueless of her realization, continued to be the perfect man, only making it so much harder for Maria to leave. She didn’t know how long she should let it go on for, if she broke things off now would she be getting in his head and ruining the weekend for him? Would continuing a relationship she’s already checking out of be just as cruel? Could she stand the rest of the weekend watching her boyfriend making heart eyes at another woman?

After sleeping on it, or rather not sleeping very much at all, she’d come to the conclusion that a clean break was best for everyone. They ordered breakfast to the room and as they sat at the small dinette she knew she had to bring it up.

Pato was halfway done with his breakfast, but she hadn’t eaten much at all, mostly just pushing her food around with her fork. “Pato, I think we need to talk.”

It’s rare that she’s this serious, and Pato knows that can’t be good, his silverware clatters as he sets it down and looks up at her. “Uh oh, what’s wrong?”

She hesitates for a moment, not knowing the best way to start the conversation. “It’s YN.”

Pato’s shocked, he doesn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t that, “What about YN?”

She figures there’s no reason to beat around the bush, “You’re in love with her.”

Pato’s a lot of things, surprised for sure, but also shockingly defensive and angry. “What? Babe, that’s ridiculous. I know you were upset about us in middle school, but I swear there’s nothing going on! I would never even think about cheating on you!”

She rested her hand on top of his, “I know you would never cheat on me, and I know you said there’s nothing and I believe you, but I saw the way you looked at her, and how she fit into your life, and it makes so much sense because you love her.”

Pato doesn’t really know what to say to that, “I love you.”

“But you are in love with her. Listen I love you, Pato, and you’re such a good man, but it’s not fair to either of us to continue this relationship. Not when your heart clearly isn’t in it.” Maria struggles over her words, voice cracking and eyes watering, but a soft smile is on her face as she says them.

“Are you saying what I think you are? You’re just giving up?”

“Pato, I’m letting you free, tell her how you feel, you deserve that kind of love.”

And maybe what she’s saying finally resonates with him because the best thing he says is, “I never meant to hurt you.”

She lets out a broken laugh at that, a single tear rolling down her face, “Oh, Pato, you never could, we aren’t meant for each other, but we still had a lot of fun, right?” He nods at her.

After that she’s on a plane and back to her home before he knows it. Pato’s sad, he feels a little empty, someone who had been such a big part in his life just walked out leaving the biggest mess in her wake. He thought about her words, but shook them off. He loved YN, of course he did, but it wasn’t like that, she was like a sister to him.

Although it’s not his sister he messages asking if she wants to come over. YN is at his hotel room within a minute of him sending the “you busy?” text. YN asks where Maria is, but all he has to say is “gone.” and YN knows to drop it.

YN knows him better than anyone, knows that he has an irrational fear of being destined to fail at every relationship. She knows he has never actually broken up with a girl, only ever been broken up with, and she knows he spent over two years single because he was afraid of being hurt. But she also knows that there’s no way anyone could spend more than an hour with him and not be in love with him, God knows she is.

It’s the way he knows her, inside and out, but it’s also the way he makes everyone around him laugh, and spends hours interacting with his fans to make them all happy, and how caring he is with animals and babies. YN is only human, how is she supposed to feel when her insanely attractive best friend is doting over her niece?

YN puts it all aside because she’s his best friend first, she’d made that promise to herself a long time ago and she’s always kept it. She sits with him and watches Friends reruns with him, he’ll talk when he wants to, but until then she’ll be by his side.

They don’t end up talking, the one good channel the hotel room has switches from Friends to Modern Family, and then Pato has to go practice. A quick google search helps her find the best tacos in Nashville, so while he’s gone she runs out to get them dinner. They had dinner plans with his parents and Elba, but YN texted Elba long ago to let her know that plans were changing. He’s a superstar, so of course he doesn’t let his life affect him and it still the fastest person in the first practice, YN thinks that’s a good sign.

When he returns he seems to be a little better, talking to YN about track conditions over their dinner. YN has had enough of waiting for Pato to bring it up, and she can tell he’s feeling better, so she has to work up the courage to ask him what happened.

“Are you going to tell me what happened with Maria or am I supposed to guess?”

His smile drops, turning into one that’s much smaller and forced. “She just left.”

“No explanation? She just woke up and was gone?”

“Oh, she had an explanation but it was bullshit. She probably just got tired of me, it's no big deal.”

YN furrows her brows at that. “Pato stop it, you’re so great anyone would be so lucky to be with you. Maybe there was some merit behind what she said.”

“Well she said I was in love with you, but I told her so many times we’re just friends and that’s all we’ll ever be.”

YN’s stomach sinks at that, it’s not like she expected him to confess his love, but he didn’t need to friendzone her that hard. “Oh.” Is all she can think to say.

“I mean you’re great, but you’re like a sister to me!”

YN forces out a laugh, “Right.” She also can’t help but feel like maybe it’s her fault this all happened, was her pining really that obvious? “Well then, she’s stupid for leaving because she’s not going to find anyone better.”

Pato’s smile is genuine for the first time since the conversation started, “Thank you, you’re the best friend I could’ve asked for.”

“Right, and don’t forget that when you’re trying to figure out what to do with all your championship earnings.”

He lets out a real laugh at that, a stark contrast to how mopey he’d been the rest of the day. “One, greedy, and two, I’m not buying you anything else. I'm tired of you getting mad when I spend money on you.”

“Pato, a graduation gift is fifty bucks, not a two thousand dollar tennis bracelet.”

He leans back in his seat and shrugs, smirking as he says, “Yet I’ve never seen you not wearing the bracelet.”

YN’s eyes go to her wrist where, sure enough, the bracelet was, just like everyday for the past three years. When Pato gave her the bracelet she refused to take it, saying it was too much and he needed to return it. After arguing for ten minutes she thought he’d finally agreed to take the bracelet back, but found it later sitting on her dresser. “What can I say? You have good taste.”

The rest of the night mirrored the morning, but had a much different tone, the two of them sat sprawled out on the couch quoting the episodes of Friends that were on, having seen them so many times they were known by heart.

When YN went to her own hotel room Pato realized how empty the place felt again, something he hadn’t noticed all day. He chose not to think too hard about how effortlessly YN took up space in his life.

The next morning, Pato had already scheduled to have everyone meet in the lobby so he could take them to the track for the day. YN had clearly told everyone about Maria because despite some odd looks no one asked about her and he was grateful for that. He didn’t think twice when everyone began to split into different cars and he pulled YN along with him, or when they arrived at the track and Pato sent most people up into a suite, but brought YN and his immediate family to the pits. Maybe that’s how it’s always been, and how it’s supposed to be.

Pato gets swept up in work for the rest of the day and YN gets to spend some real time with her second family. As soon as they’re alone, Elba doesn’t hesitate to start interrogating her.

“What happened with Maria?”

“Apparently she told Pato he’s in love with me and just left.” YN shrugs as she says it, still a little puzzled by the whole thing.

“Huh.”

“What? No ‘huh’ I know what that means just tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I just thought Maria knew by now and didn’t care, maybe she’s not as smart as I gave her credit for.”

“What do you mean? Knew what?”

“Come on, YN, Pato’s been in love with you since you were nine, I wouldn’t want to be dating him.”

YN is struggling to process what she’s hearing, and automatically turns to deflection. “He is not.”

“Oh my god.” Elba starts giggling maniacally.

YN has no clue what could be funny, “What!?”

“You’re in love with him too!”

“I am not!” Despite her refusal, YN can feel and Elba can see the heat rising up her neck.

“You totally are! All this time I thought you had to know it’s so obvious, I mean, he follows you around like a puppy, but you had no idea!”

“Ok, keep your voice down.” YN puts her hand over Elba’s mouth really not wanting anyone else to hear their conversation. “Even if I did like him, and I’m not saying I do, he does not feel the same. I mean you should’ve heard how hard he friendzoned me yesterday.”

Elba looks sympathetic then, “Babe, I think my brother has spent so long denying himself what he wants he doesn’t even know what that is anymore. I love him dearly, but relationships are not his strong suit.”

“Then I guess we’re at a stalemate because I am certainly not going to be the one to ruin our friendship.”

Elba’s exasperated, “Oh my god, you two are exhausting!”

By the time Elba finished her intervention, qualifying finished resulting in Pato getting the pole. Mclaren has been dominant the last few weekends, and this weekend is no different with all three cars in the fast six. Pato is in the driver’s lot, getting ready to head back to the hotel, everyone else had dispersed from the track, and Felix has tracked down Pato and is calling after him.

“Hey, Felix! What’s up?”

“Bro, you’re about to win this fucking thing.” There’s nothing but excitement from Felix for his best friend.

“I know, I just hope tomorrow is a clean race and we can bring this thing home.”

“You’ve got this, I know it. Hey, where’s Maria been all day?” Felix says it like he’s just realizing she’s not around.

“Who knows. Yesterday morning she woke up determined that I’m secretly in love with YN and got on the next plane out.”

“So you guys are done?”

“Yeah about as done as you can be.”

“And YN?”

“YN is my best friend.”

“No, I'm your best friend.”

“Sorry, Fro, even you lose to YN.”

“I don’t want to win what YN is winning.”

Pato rolls his eyes and stomps his foot, huffing, “And what exactly is YN winning?”

Felix puts his hands up in self-defense, “Listen, all I’m saying is if you looked at me like you do YN, I think Emille would feel threatened.”

“Very funny.” Pato kicks the ground, staring at his shoe, he thinks about his relationship with Felix versus his with YN, sure it’s different, but him and YN have so much history. “Look, I don’t know what I feel for YN, but I don’t care either because she’s too important as a friend for me to lose her.”

“Mate you’ve been practically dating for years, I don’t think making it official will ruin anything.”

With that last piece of advice Felix takes off, leaving Pato alone with his thoughts. The whole drive back to the hotel and the rest of the night he spent thinking about YN. If everyone closest to him is saying one thing, how could they all be wrong? He thinks about everything they’ve been through together.

His first win in karting when she was the first person he ran to when he got out of the car; how she comes to every family reunion and often traveled to Mexico to spend time with his family; their senior prom when she was sad about not having a date, but she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen that night; except for Christmas mornings when she’s in her pajamas and he gets to watch her eyes light up as they answer presents together. Maybe it’s been in front of him all along. What’s been missing from all of his other relationships has been right there.

It’s a lot to take in, but it doesn’t really matter because, like he told Felix, he wouldn’t risk their friendship if she doesn’t feel the same. He can handle a trail of failed relationships, but he could never handle losing YN. He went to bed that night knowing he had to just focus on the race and on bringing home the championship.

The next morning he’s awoken by a knock on the door. “Patricio! Open up, room service!”

He knows who’s behind the door before he opens it, there’s only one person who cares enough to bring him breakfast. When he lets YN in he sees the bag full of takeout food from a nearby diner. “Breakfast of champions, for the champion.”

Of course she’s already decided he’s a champion before the race. No one has ever believed in him as much as her. “Calm down, I don't want you to jinx me.”

“Au contraire my friend, a jinx would mean you’re winning by luck, and you are winning by sheer talent.”

It always amazes him how smart she is in the morning, he knows no more than 5 words for a solid hour after waking up, and she’s always speaking a million words a minute. “7AM is too early to be speaking another language.”

“Aw, pobrecito, ¿estás cansado?” She knew very minimal spanish, but had picked some up from time spent with his family, and used it pretty exclusively to tease him.

“You’re so not funny my brain hurts.” He is slouched over the table with his head resting on his arms.

She begins to unpack the food in front of him, “Alright, come on, time to wake up you’ve got a big day.”

The smell of eggs and bacon is what gets him to lift his head and start eating. He tries not to focus on the fact that she got him exactly what he eats every race day because that’s a can of worms he doesn’t want to touch. Regardless he eats the meal, and is sad when she pulls out her pancakes and begins to eat with him. She offers him a bite which he takes, but they both know he won’t eat any more than that because he doesn’t like big meals before a race.

After they finish, YN starts picking up their trash and Pato thanks her, “You take such good care of me, can’t believe you brought me breakfast I’m not worthy.” She’s glad for her back being turned to him because she can feel how much she’s blushing.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur, leave it to YN to be the eye in his hurricane, bringing calm before the storm. The race was close, a shitty pit stop meant Pato had to make some big passes to make up position, but Pato ended up pulling away with the final race win of the season and the championship.

YN and Elba leave the suite a few laps early so they can be on pit lane when he gets the win. After his victory lap and celebratory donuts he pulls into pit lane. Immediately his crew is flooding around him as he struggles to get out. Once he does there’s a giant group hug around Pato. Rossi and Fro also both make their way to his pits to congratulate him.

When Felix pulls Pato into a hug he whispers into his ear, “Why haven’t you gone to your girl yet, she’s waiting for you.”

Felix’s words had weight to them, all these people were surrounding him, but none of them had been on this journey with him as long as her. She waited for him for the last 15 years while he chased a career and different women, and now he’s at the peak of his career, having everything he ever wanted, and she’s not the one by his side. It hits him like a ton of bricks how bad he wants her to be the one celebrating this win with him, and every win for the rest of his life. Walking over to YN he pulls her into a hug, hoping that everything he’s feeling can be conveyed through the touch.

YN is in his ear, “I’m so proud of you, I always knew you could do it.”

He can’t find the right words, so all he says is, “I’m so glad you’re here.” he’ll explain later.

Holding her in front of thousands of people, Pato isn’t scared of losing their friendship anymore. He’s not sure of a lot, but he knows they’ll be ok, and that he’s loved her since before he knew what love was.

[xxblairexxss]

༉‧₊˚. Charles Leclerc ༉‧₊˚.

•·.·''·.·• Tradition •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

You came up with something for Charles before his race and he liked it. It could be a new tradition between both of you, right?

•·.·''·.·• Cherry tomato? •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

You pulled a prank on Charles and he almost fainted.

•·.·''·.·• Everything shower •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

You accidentally exposed your boyfriend to the public which shook the internet.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ •·.·''·.·• Smitten •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

•·.·''·.·• Revenge •·.·''·.· (Angst)

You were caught in trouble for trying to do thing on your own.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ •·.·''·.·• Part 2 •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

•·.·''·.·• I’ll be back before 10 •·.·''·.· (Angst)

Pierre forced Charles to go out on a date behind your back but he didn’t want to betray your love.

•·.·''·.·• Pastries •·.·''·.· (Angst, fluff)

You got into an argument with Charles because you couldn’t take a joke.

•·.·''·.·• Pick me up •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

Charles got a call from Monaco prison and he wished you took it more seriously.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ •·.·''·.·• Part 2 •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

•·.·''·.·• I’m sorry •·.·''·.· (Angst)

Just a timeline of Charles’s girlfriend throughout the years, how she went from a girl who migrated to France when she was 6 years old to becoming a girlfriend of the Formula 1 driver, Charles Leclerc.

•·.·''·.·• Supersede •·.·''·.· (Angst)

Charles’s was your brother’s best friends. You had a crush on him since you were a kid but he replaced you, all of sudden, for no reason.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ •·.·''·.·• Part 2, Part 3 •·.·''·.· (Angst, fluff)

•·.·''·.·• Flushed •·.·''·.· (Angst / fluff)

Your attempt to move on from your ex went terribly wrong.

•·.·''·.·• Duty •·.·''·.· (pregnant!reader) (Angst / fluff)

Charles never allowed you to attend any of his races when you entered your third trimester but you begged him as it could be your last time before your little girl arrives. Will he regret his decision for saying yes?

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ •·.·''·.·• Part 2 •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

•·.·''·.·• Saving your bacon •·.·''·.· (medic student!reader) (Angst / fluff)

•·.·''·.·• Go to sleep •·.·''·.· (Angst / fluff)

•·.·''·.·• Wrong guess •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

•·.·''·.·• Subjectivity in art •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

•·.·''·.·• A fresh start •·.·''·.· (Angst / fluff)

In which Charles had a crush on the new member of the team without knowing he was already a good friend of her toddler.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ •·.·''·.·• Part 2 •·.·''·.· (Angst / fluff)

•·.·''·.·• We’ll be fine •·.·''·.· (Angst / fluff)

Relationships aren’t all sunshines and rainbows. Charles and you were trying so hard to maintain this long distance relationships but everything seemed to be going the wrong way. Was it the miscommunication, the lack of reassurance or was it because of your job?

•·.·''·.·• Who are you? •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

You got into an accident on your way to work with a guy who drove Ferrari Pista 488 with the number 16. Weird thing was that everyone kept calling his name as if he was a celebrity.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ •·.·''·.·• Part 2 •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

•·.·''·.·• She’s in a good hand •·.·''·.· (Angst / fluff)

•·.·''·.·• Fluffy child •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

༉‧₊˚. Series! ༉‧₊˚.

•·.·''·.·• Doudou •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

Charles was your first love but something happened and he walked away one night, throwing away your 12 years of friendship and 5 years of relationship. Does he deserve a second chance?

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ •·.·''·.·• Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 (Charles’s ending) , Part 4 (Lando’s ending) •·.·''·.·

•·.·''·.·• A fresh start •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

•·.·''·.·• Jealousy •·.·''·.· (Angst)

You were accused of flirting with other man and he refused to listen to your explanation.

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ •·.·''·.·• Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

•·.·''·.·• Hunt game •·.·''·.· (Angst, fluff)

༉‧₊˚. dad!Charles ༉‧₊˚.

•·.·''·.·• Ice cream date •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

•·.·''·.·• Belief •·.·''·.· (Angst / Fluff)

•·.·''·.·• Naughty stone! •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

•·.·''·.·• Little legs •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

•·.·''·.·• Little guard •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

•·.·''·.·• Daddy’s girlfriend •·.·''·.· (Fluff)

[sheisjoeschateau]

misha's masterlists

Hi, I'm Misha. Thank you for diving into my stories and supporting my writing :)

My fanfics [+this blog] are dedicated to Steve Harrington. All fanfic series, one-shots, blurbs, etc. listed below are written by me. Do not repost or share anywhere without proper credit. Thank you.

SERIES MASTERLISTS:

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..."

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

[PART I] | [PART II] [PART III] | [PART IV] | [PART V] [PART VI] | [PART VII] | [PART VIII]

[Part IX - blurb] | [Part IX - full]

[Part X] | MORE COMING SOON

SUMMARY: WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU.

HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU...

BUT WILL HE?

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

"You're there. You've always been there."

Steve Harrington x OC!fem!reader Childhood friends to lovers. Sloooowburn. Angst. Romance. Smut with plot. Action. Told from second-person view, reader is Nicole (character from S1), different POV, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, pre-S1-S4, eventual post-S4 universe.

[PART I] | [PART II]

Summary: Steve Harrington was six years old when he met you: Nicole St. James, the girl who carries the other half of him. Since 1972, the two of you have been inseparably tethered by the soul. You give Steve a home in his big house with no parents, and he gives your introverted heart a longing for someone. The King of Hawkins High and princess of this small town, you tell each other absolutely everything...except that you are in love with each other.

Everything changes that one afternoon at school, when you catch the school's social outcast -- Jonathan Buyers -- has been stalking Steve, his posse and his girl, Nancy. Little do you both know, the monsters in your favorite fairytales are real. And you're both going to have to fight them together.

You both share the best days and worst days, through childhood and teen years, until you both find yourselves roped into the perils that exist beneath your feet in Hawkins.

But through it all, despite all the doubt, Steve knows one thing: you're there. You've always been there.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ��⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

"At the Chateau, We'll Be Alright."

Steve Harrington x Jonathan Byers x fem!reader A crossover au inspired by Saltburn and Call Me by Your Name. Additional Inso from Joe's theater performance as in Spring Awakening. Song Inso: "Chateau" by Djo

Strangers to best friends to lovers. Slowburn. Angst. Romance, with polyamory themes and schemes. Smut with hella plot.

[MULTI-PART SERIES] COMING SOON. Click here for a preview.

Summary: The reader lives with her parents at a fancy chateau, in France.  This year, her father offers their home as a housing sanctuary to a select student or graduate.  He decides to invite two graduate students to live with their family over the summer, coming from different working class backgrounds, and help with their academic paperwork as a professor of archaeology.

Steve Harrington: a rich kid from a swanky boarding school with a bad boy reputation and too much charm for his own good.  Surprisingly, his grades say otherwise.  A’s and B’s, his parents claim that is seeking one-on-one tutoring so that he can progress in his studies — but it sounds more like an excuse to ship him off for longer periods of time, giving them an out for having their son around during the summer.  The pretty boy’s all about ladies…but that’s only because he hasn’t met a boy who awakens his bisexuality.  Yet.

Jonathan Byers: a kid from the lower working class, excelling in his studies and AP programs at the same boarding school as Steve which he only got into because of community sponsorship and grants.  Quiet wallflower, little to no friends, a bit cynical.  A closeted gay, he’s more determined to stick with being perceived as “ace” than come out of the closet.  Until he goes to stay at a chateau with a handsome boy, and a beautiful girl who understands him.

Twists, turns and terrifying risks, you all put your hearts on the line that summer at the Chateau. Add the reader's cousin Eddie into the mix, along with her best friend Robin, Steve's ex-girlfriend Nancy, Jonathan's estranged mother and your progressive parents alongside Steve's absent parents -- it's a cruel summer.

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

Confesser

Summary: Spencer is a criminology professor, and Reader is a French professor. Separate focuses managed to get tangled together once, which makes Reader even more suspicious when he stops by her office on Valentine’s Day.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Light flangst

Content warnings: Slap

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: a little last-minute Valentine scenario

The bulb in your desk lamp flickered, as if it was begging for you to call it a night. You've been working late nights at the office recently, not only to help your students before midterms but also to keep your mind at bay from the lingering anguish.

There’s nothing wrong with being alone on Valentine’s Day. It’s been the case for you for years now. Solitude has been your most consistent and prosperous state. It’s how you earned your place as tenure after just five years at Marbury University (Go Cardinals). A job for life. Many people aren’t lucky to have that like you are. So you can’t stop now and get comfortable. Your students love you, and over the years have advocated this position for you. Stopping now would be nothing but a disservice to them.

If only you hadn’t been so stupid your fourth year here (and the first half of your fifth), then the feelings you get when in Jefferson Hall might be less painful. You were stupid enough to believe that the number one workplace rule didn’t apply to you.

Don’t fuck your coworkers.

Perhaps you thought your achievements from back to back earned you a place of immunity in that pool. Well, Dr. Spencer Reid was happy to prove you wrong there. Things like that can always risk being casual, unrequited, awkward. And you were stupid enough to go back more than once, and sully the place and position you rightfully earned.

Spencer first noticed you speaking to some of your students outside the hall. When approaching, he spoke in French, assuming you were a foreign exchange student. But when you turned to face him, he saw your staff badge, and put the pieces together quickly. It’s not too far off of an assumption, as most people think you’re French when they see how easily the language and history flows from you. You applauded his French (both pronunciation and accent) regardless.

That meeting turned into a coffee date. Coffee turned to grabbing lunch, then grading papers together, moral support to keep one another going. That quickly trickled into a friendship as you learned about Spencer’s specialties, multiple degrees, and current employment at the BAU in Quantico. You’ve both been to France for pleasure and to study. One was coincidentally in the same year as each other, where you both visited the city of Orléans. The rich architecture and vast history as far back as the Merovingian era made you both agree you prefer it over Paris any day.

Those days were during your fourth year. And it was just over a year of friendship where you made the mistake of agreeing to a drink after work.

The bulb flickers, as if to mock those memories or distract you from going too deep. Does it really matter? Spencer made it clear it was a mistake. None of it was meant to happen — the kiss, the confession, the sex. And with your shared brilliance mixed with two vodka sodas, you both unraveled what used to be a genuine friendship, a trusting relationship among coworkers. You cut your desk lamp off with a click, muttering to yourself as you collect your bag and some books. It’s a good enough sign to call it a night and head home. At the very least, you could spoil yourself with a nice bath and some wine. You question if you should grab a bottle on the way home or use what you’ve got stashed.

Your keys rattle in the door as you lock up your office, and you jerk on the doorknob for the sake of double checking. Spencer told you most break-ins occur because people fail to check the locks in their homes or cars before leaving. You don’t know how many of your students or fellow professors in the Language Department would be eager to bust into your office, unless they need some spicy ancient French poetry or books on Rococo architecture. No issues of the sort have arisen yet.

That is until you spot him at the end of the hall, drenched in fluorescent lighting and paused as if you caught him in the act. Of what, you didn’t know. It’s not like Spencer was short on French books or books in French. You hesitated to speak, questioning if it was even worth speaking a word to him. Regardless of the fact that you have to go his direction to get to your car.

Of course you caved. “Spencer.” You tried to not make your gulp so audible.

He just stood there awkwardly, like this wasn’t as much his fault as it was yours. Like you were in his way.

You scoff. Seeing him there, just feet away, it’s a cruel feeling blooming in your chest. The idea that maybe it isn’t too late. Maybe he’s here to confess what he really feels. On Valentine’s Day, no less. A bit of a cliché, but you’re not in a position to be too picky about how you might make up. If that’s even what’s happening.

With reluctance, you walk toward him. “I’m heading home for the night,” you say. “Are you parked out front too?” It pains to ask as if this is all casual. It feels like your heart’s about to burst or crush because he’s not saying a word as you approach him. Not until you actually approach him.

“Hi,” he meekly says. He looks pale. He looks sick with worry. If you were more concerned, you would feel inclined to ask about it.

You try to avoid sighing too loudly. You need the air. Since the bar (and everything after that), you two haven't been this close. “Do you want to walk out to the parking lot?”

Spencer shakes his head. “I, uh, I got you something.” He digs around in his satchel and pulls out a frame delicately. Like it was an old piece of art. Spencer hands it to you.

It’s not an old piece of art. It’s an old piece of poetry. Two of them in a single frame.

“They’re not the originals. But I have a friend in Germany who knows a guy in France who could exchange some pretty old copies.”

You stared at the pieces. Gawked is likely the more accurate word. They were definitely old copies. It was all handwritten and translated to Middle English.

You looked up at Spencer. “Charles d’Orléans?”

Spencer nodded, lips pressed together in a boyish, nervous smile.

You were so stunned by the decoration of the parchment, the distinct age of the pieces (well before the revolution), you almost forgot to ask, “Why are you giving this to me?”

“Had some spares around the apartment. Figured you’d appreciate them more than me.” He chuckled.

You turned your head and narrowed your eyes.

And you saw Spencer’s audible gulp. Much more audible than yours earlier (yes!). “Read it.”

You scan over the parchment, translating in your head:

Let men and women on Love’s party

Choose their St. Valentine this year!

I remain alone, comfort stole from me

On the hard bed of painful thought.

As he is well this day has caught

A Valentine that loves him, as I guess,

Whereas this comfort me here alone

Upon my bed so hard of painful thought.

You looked back up at Spencer, hoping this time he’ll put some more context behind the words instead of leaving you to fill in the blanks (again). You waited.

“I’m sorry about what I said. Or I guess… the way I said it. Maybe both. Both is probably the safer option to go with. The point is that I’m genuinely sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”

You didn’t know what to do with the poems. It is instinct to keep them close to your chest like a book, but (like with you and Spencer) you’re afraid of ruining them. Somehow cracking it or damaging them. Firmly held in your hands, you are hyper-aware of its value. You also try not to let your emotions take a grip for the sake of your pieces. “You said it was a mistake.”

“It was a mistake that we went that far in one night. That’s… not who I am.”

You quirked a brow.

“That’s not who I usually am. I went too far in every way, and I’m sorry.”

You clamped your lips closed, looking around like students were present, ready to eavesdrop and gossip later. If your favorites were here, they would beg you to dish it all out over lunch. But no one was here. It was just you and Spencer (and Charles, kind of). “But what if my feelings were genuine?”

“I-I assumed they were. And I hurt them, and I’m sorry. I understand if I blew it and you may want to forget those feelings now, which is completely understandable. I destroyed it all in one night. And I can’t hold your hands right now, but I want to, and just say that you’re very important to me. And I miss you being around. And, uh, whatever context that might be, I hope we can be around each other again. A-at some point in the future.”

You sighed. It was heavy but concentrated. You needed a fresh breath of air. Spencer had the look of a sad puppy. It’s the way he looked whenever he was worried. How could you kick a sad puppy when he’s already down?

Well, you didn’t. You slapped him.

And he instantly reached for his cheek, already burning red.

“That’s for hurting me.”

Spencer nodded, not objecting to that part.

You then took that same cheek and pulled him closer, locking his lips with yours. And you both inhale deeply upon recognizing the contact. You’re hesitant about getting closer, given Charles is between you. “That’s me forgiving you.”

Spencer’s eyes crinkled as he held your face, but he didn’t initiate a kiss. The nerves in his fingers show he was hesitant to touch you so suddenly. He wasn’t messing this up again. “Can I walk you to your car?”

This time, it’s you who doesn’t hesitate. You hold the frame in one arm, cradling it like a baby. And you reach for Spencer’s hand as you walk out of Jefferson Hall.

[bellarkeselection]

Hello ! I love your work sm and was wondering if you could maybe possible do a Charles Xavier x reader where the reader is British like him but had lived in France most her life so when she gets angry like in class when teaching the students or just in general with other people and or things she start yelling and insulting in French (reader has ANGER ISSUES) ? If that is to much to ask I understand completely, thank you and I hope you have a great week my lovely xx

The British and French Professor

Hi there, anonymous asker - I’m sorry it took me a while before I got this posted but I hope you enjoy what I have wrote

Some people simply find enjoyment in staying in the state or country they were born in.

Others have this desire to travel the world and see more than what we have been around most of their lives.

And I used to be one of those people that stayed at home until I met Charles Xavier and his beautiful dream that he had for mutants and the rest of the world at Oxford University when I had gotten my dream job to teach as a professor here.

The first time I had left my childhood home in France I had to adjust to many different things, especially switching from my French accent to a British one that my mother had. She taught me all she could but I haven’t been able to not curse in French when I let my anger get the better of me.

Walking into my college classroom I sat my bag down seeing most of my students were already in their seats and ready for our exam that day. Taking out my exam papers I heard one of my students coming up to my desk with a nervous look on her face. “Excuse me, Professor L/n. I was hoping I could be excused from today’s exam cause I didn’t get enough sleep last night.” The girl's name was Penny and she had her blonde hair up in a ponytail.

Holding the exam papers up against my chest so she couldn’t see the questions I sent her a half smile. “You’ve known this exam has been coming up for two weeks now.”

“Professor L/n, I can’t take the exam today because I broke up with my girlfriend and that was really draining for me.” One of the boys that sits next to her came up coming up with a half assed excuse.

Rolling my eyes I glared at him. “That’s not a valid reason to not take this exam, Bryan.”

“But Professor L/n-“

The classroom door got thrown open and I saw one of the cheerleaders running inside the classroom completely dressed in her pajamas. “I totally thought she was joking about us having an exam the day before fall break.”

“Alright that’s enough.” Laying the exams faced down beside my laptop that was sitting on the desk.

Easton, who was a senior who had failed this class two more times rose from his seat, beginning to put on his backpack and leave the room. “I’m out of here. I don’t need to learn about English if I’m going to play in the NFL one day.”

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.” Another boy began to pack his things, making the blood inside of me start to boil.

Slamming my palms down on the wooden desk I raised my voice at the students who were trying to leave the classroom. “Nobody leaves this room unless I say that class is over!”

“But half of them aren’t prepared for class, Professor L/n. Why should we make it where they pass because we came prepared for the exam?” Amy, who was one of my best students, raised her hand getting frustrated with the fact that their good test scores would help out the ones who could care less about trying to take or pass the exam for today.

Running a hand down my face I huffed doing my best to not let my anger take over. Even if this wasn’t the first time we have had this conversation in my class this year. “Amy, you shouldn’t worry about the curve. I will not improve the others' grades considering we have already discussed this.”

“So since we’re having this conversation I’m assuming we aren’t having the exam today. I’ll see you on Monday.” Penny slowly started walking backwards towards the door.

“Vous tous gèlez cet instant ! Je refuse d'avoir cette discussion cette année. Vous devez suivre ce cours, je suis votre professeur, ce qui signifie que vous ferez ce que je dis, ce qui signifie que nous aurons l'examen aujourd'hui et que toute personne qui échouera à l'examen devra écrire un essai pendant la pause qui explique comment vous serez préparé pour notre prochain examen. Est-ce clair pour tout le monde ?” - - - - - ( All of you freeze this instant! I refuse to have this discussion anymore this year. You are required to take this course, I am your professor meaning you will do what I say, so that means we will be having the exam today and anyone who fails the exam will be required to write an essay over break that explains how you will be prepared for our next exam. Is that clear to everyone? )

All my students' eyes were locked onto me after I had stopped shouting in French and a familiar British accent could be heard throughout the classroom. “On that note I’d say Professor L/n isn’t feeling well and needs to step out. My colleague Hank will be protruding your exam and will make sure everyone finishes before they leave.” Charles slowly enters the room with his friend Hank coming in behind him moments later.

Slumping my shoulders, the anger that I was feeling almost went away instantly when I saw his face and those piercing blue eyes. “Charles.”

“Let’s both be done for the day. I think you and your students have been stressed out enough for some time.” The telepathic professor extended his hand out to me waiting for me to give him my hand. Slowly intertwining my hand with his own he led me out of the classroom and grabbed my bag.

Once we were outside I felt my entire body relax with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face simply taking a walk with the man that I loved. Charles found a park bench and we sat down where I laid my head against his shoulder sighing heavily. “I didn’t mean to snap at them. My anger - my anger issues just got the better of me.”

“I know you didn’t mean for that to happen, Y/n. You are one of the greatest people I have ever met. So don’t beat yourself up over what happened in your class a few minutes ago.” Charles tucked some hair behind my ear.

Lifting my head up I gently kissed him, threading my fingers through his long brown hair. “Thank you, Charles. I appreciate you being here for me.”

“I’ll always have my girls back. You are my love, Y/n.” He smiled gently cupping my face in his hands deeply kissing me back where we just enjoyed the peaceful moment together.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The new globalism is global labor

For the rest of May, my bestselling solarpunk utopian novel THE LOST CAUSE (2023) is available as a $2.99, DRM-free ebook!

Depending on how you look at it, I either grew up in the periphery of the labor movement, or atop it, or surrounded by it. For a kid, labor issues don't really hold a lot of urgency – in places with mature labor movements, kids don't really have jobs, and the part-time jobs I had as a kid (paper route, cleaning a dance studio) were pretty benign.

Ironically, one of the reasons that labor issues barely registered for me as a kid was that my parents were in great, strong unions: Ontario teachers' unions, which protected teachers from exploitative working conditions and from retaliation when they advocated for their students, striking for better schools as well as better working conditions.

Ontario teachers' unions were strong enough that they could take the lead on workplace organization, to the benefit of teachers at every part of their careers, as well as students and the system as a whole. Back in the early 1980s, Ontario schools faced a demographic crisis. After years of declining enrollment, the number of students entering the system was rapidly increasing.

That meant that each level of the system – primary, junior, secondary – was about to go through a whipsaw, in which low numbers of students would be followed by large numbers. For a unionized education workforce, this presented a crisis: normally, a severe contraction in student numbers would trigger layoffs, on a last-in, first-out basis. That meant that layoffs loomed for junior teachers, who would almost certainly end up retraining for another career. When student numbers picked up again, those teachers wouldn't be in the workforce anymore, and worse, a lot of the senior teachers who got priority during layoffs would be retiring, magnifying the crisis.

The teachers' unions were strong, and they cared about students and teachers, both those at the start of their careers and those who'd given many years of service. They came up with an amazing solution: "self-funded sabbaticals." Teachers with a set number of years of seniority could choose to take four years at 80% salary, and get a fifth year off at 80% salary (actually, they could take their year off any time from the third year on).

This allowed Ontario to increase its workforce by about 20%, for free. Senior teachers got a year off to spend with their families, or on continuing education, or for travel. Junior teachers' jobs were protected. Students coming into the system had adequate classroom staff, in a mix of both senior and junior teachers.

This worked great for everyone, including my family. My parents both took their four-over-five year in 1983/84. They rented out our house for six months, charging enough to cover the mortgage. We flew to London, took a ferry to France, and leased a little sedan. For the next six months, we drove around Europe, visiting fourteen countries while my parents homeschooled us on the long highway stretches and in laundromats. We stayed in youth hostels and took a train to Leningrad to visit my family there. We saw Christmas Midnight Mass at the Vatican and walked around the Parthenon. We saw Guernica at the Prado. We visited a computer lab in Paris and I learned to program Logo in French. We hung out with my parents' teacher pals who were civilian educators at a Canadian Forces Base in Baden-Baden. I bought an amazing hand-carved chess set in Seville with medieval motifs that sung to my D&D playing heart. It was amazing.

No, really, it was amazing. Unions and the social contract they bargained for transformed my family's life chances. My dad came to Canada as a refugee, the son of a teen mother who'd been deeply traumatized by her civil defense service as a child during the Siege of Leningrad. My mother was the eldest child of a man who, at thirteen, had dropped out of school to support his nine brothers and sisters after the death of his father. My parents grew up to not only own a home, but to be able to take their sons on a latter-day version of the Grand Tour that was once the exclusive province of weak-chinned toffs from the uppermost of crusts:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Tour

My parents were active in labor causes and in their unions, of course, but that was just part of their activist lives. My mother was a leader in the fight for legal abortion rights in Canada:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/8882641733

My dad was active in party politics with the New Democratic Party, and both he and my mother were deeply involved with the fight against nuclear arms proliferation, a major issue in Canada, given our role in supplying radioisotopes to the US, building key components for ICBMs, testing cruise missiles over Labrador, and our participation in NORAD.

Abortion rights and nuclear arms proliferation were my own entry into political activism. When I was 13, I organized a large contingent from my school to march on Queen's Park, the seat of the Provincial Parliament, to demand an end to Ontario's active and critical participation in the hastening of global nuclear conflagration:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/53616011737/

When I got a little older, I started helping with clinic defense and counterprotests at the Morgentaler Clinic and other sites in Toronto that provided safe access to women's health, including abortions:

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/morgentaler-honoured-by-order-of-canada-federal-government-not-involved-1.716775

My teens were a period of deepening involvement in politics. It was hard work, but rewarding and fundamentally hopeful. There, in the shadow of imminent nuclear armageddon, there was a role for me to play, a way to be more than a passive passenger on a runaway train, to participate in the effort to pull the brake lever before we ran over the cliff.

In hindsight, though, I can see that even as my activism intensified, it also got harder. We struggled more to find places to meet, to find phones and computers to use, to find people who could explain how to get a permit for a demonstration or to get legal assistance for comrades in jail after a civil disobedience action.

What I couldn't see at the time was that all of this was provided by organized labor. The labor movement had the halls, the photocopiers, the lawyers, the experience – the infrastructure. Even for campaigns that were directly about labor rights – campaigns for abortion rights, or against nuclear annihilation – the labor movement was the material, tangible base for our activities.

Look, riding a bicycle around all night wheatpasting posters to telephone poles to turn out people for an upcoming demonstration is hard work, but it's much harder if you have to pay for xeroxing at Kinko's rather than getting it for free at the union hall. Worse, the demonstration turnout suffers more because the union phone-trees and newsletters stop bringing out the numbers they once brought out.

This was why the neoliberal project took such savage aim at labor: they understood that a strong labor movement was foundation of antiimperialist, antiracist, antisexist struggles for justice. By dismantling labor, the ruling class kicked the legs out from under all the other fights that mattered.

Every year, it got harder to fight for any kind of better world. We activist kids grew to our twenties and foundered, spending precious hours searching for a room to hold a meeting, leaving us with fewer hours to spend organizing the thing we were meeting for. But gradually, we rebuilt. We started to stand up our own fragile, brittle, nascent structures that stood in for the mature and solid labor foundation that we'd grown up with.

The first time I got an inkling of what was going on came in 1999, with the Battle of Seattle: the mass protests over the WTO. Yes, labor turned out in force for those mass demonstrations, but they weren't its leaders. The militancy, the leadership, and the organization came out of groups that could loosely be called "post-labor" – not in the sense that they no longer believed in labor causes, but in the sense that they were being organized outside of traditional labor.

Labor was in retreat. Five years earlier, organized labor had responded to NAFTA by organizing against Mexican workers, rather than the bosses who wanted to ship jobs to Mexico. It wasn't unusual to see cars in Ontario with CAW bumper stickers alongside xenophobic stickers taking aim at Mexicans, not bosses. Those were the only workers that organized labor saw as competitors for labor rights: this was also the heyday of "two-tier" contracts, which protected benefits for senior workers while leaving their junior comrades exposed to bosses' most sadistic practices, while still expecting junior workers to pay dues to a union that wouldn't protect them:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/11/25/strikesgiving/#shed-a-tier

Two-tier contracts were the opposite of the solidarity that my parents' teachers' union exhibited in the early 1980s; blaming Mexican workers for automakers' offshoring was the opposite of the solidarity that built transracial and international labor power in the early days of the union movement:

https://unionhall.aflcio.org/bloomington-normal-trades-and-labor-assembly/labor-culture/edge-anarchy-first-class-pullman-strike

As labor withered under a sustained, multi-decades-long assault on workers' rights, other movements started to recapitulate the evolution of early labor, shoring up fragile movements that lacked legal protections, weathering setbacks, and building a "progressive" coalition that encompassed numerous issues. And then that movement started to support a new wave of labor organizing, situating labor issues on a continuum of justice questions, from race to gender to predatory college lending.

Young workers from every sector joined ossified unions with corrupt, sellout leaders and helped engineer their ouster, turning these dying old unions into engines of successful labor militancy:

https://theintercept.com/2023/04/07/deconstructed-union-dhl-teamsters-uaw/

In other words, we're in the midst of a reversal of the historic role of labor and other social justice movements. Whereas once labor anchored a large collection of smaller, less unified social movements; today those social movements are helping bring back a weakened and fragmented labor movement.

One of the key organizing questions for today is whether these two movements can continue to co-evolve and, eventually, merge. For example: there can be no successful climate action without climate justice. The least paid workers in America are also the most racially disfavored. The gender pay-gap exists in all labor markets. For labor, integrating social justice questions isn't just morally sound, it's also tactically necessary.

One thing such a fusion can produce is a truly international labor movement. Today, social justice movements are transnational: the successful Irish campaign for abortion rights was closely linked to key abortion rights struggles in Argentina and Poland, and today, abortion rights organizers from all over the world are involved in mailing medication abortion pills to America.

A global labor movement is necessary, and not just to defeat the divide-and-rule tactics of the NAFTA fight. The WTO's legacy is a firmly global capitalism: workers all over the world are fighting the same corporations. The strong unions of one country are threatened by weak labor in other countries where their key corporations seek to shift manufacturing or service delivery. But those same strong unions are able to use their power to help their comrades abroad protect their labor rights, depriving their common adversary of an easily exploited workforce.

A key recent example is Mercedes, part of the Daimler global octopus. Mercedes' home turf is Germany, which boasts some of the strongest autoworker unions in the world. In the USA, Mercedes – like other German auto giants – preferentially manufactures its cars in the South, America's "onshore-offshore" crime havens, where labor laws are both virtually nonexistent and largely unenforced. This allows Mercedes to exploit and endanger a largely Black workforce in a "right to work" territory where unions are nearly impossible to form and sustain.

Mercedes just defeated a hard-fought union drive in Vance, Alabama. In part, this was due to admitted tactical blunders from the UAW, who have recently racked up unprecedented victories in Tennessee and North Carolina:

https://paydayreport.com/uaw-admits-digital-heavy-organizing-committee-light-approach-failed-them-in-alabama-at-mercedes/

But mostly, this was because Mercedes cheated. They flagrantly violated labor law to sabotage the union vote. That's where it gets interesting. German workers have successfully lobbied the German parliament for the Supply Chain Act, an anticorruption law that punishes German companies that violate labor law abroad. That means that even though the UAW just lost their election, they might inflict some serious pain on Mercedes, who face a fine of 2% of their global annual revenue, and a ban on selling cars to the German government:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/10/an-injury-to-one/#is-an-injury-to-all

This is another way reversal of the post-neoliberal era. Whereas once the US exported its most rapacious corporate practices all over the world, today, global labor stands a chance of exporting workers' rights from weak territories to strong ones.

Here's an American analogy: the US's two most populous states are California and Texas. The policies of these states ripple out over the whole country, and even beyond. When Texas requires textbooks that ban evolution, every pupil in the country is at risk of getting a textbook that embraces Young Earth Creationism. When California enacts strict emission standards, every car in the country gets cleaner tailpipes. The WTO was a Texas-style export: a race to the bottom, all around the world. The moment we're living through now, as global social movements fuse with global labor, are a California-style export, a race to the top.

This is a weird upside to global monopoly capitalism. It's how antitrust regulators all over the world are taking on corporations whose power rivals global superpowers like the USA and China: because they're all fighting the same corporations, they can share tactics and even recycle evidence from one-another's antitrust cases:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/05/big-tech-eu-drop-dead

Look, the UAW messed up in Alabama. A successful union vote is won before the first ballot is cast. If your ground game isn't strong enough to know the outcome of the vote before the ballot box opens, you need more organizing, not a vote:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/23/a-collective-bargain/

But thanks to global labor – and its enemy, global capitalism – the UAW gets another chance. Global capitalism is rich and powerful, but it has key weaknesses. Its drive to "efficiency" makes it terribly vulnerable, and a disruption anywhere in its supply chain can bring the whole global empire to its knees:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/21/eight-and-skate/#strike-to-rule

American workers – especially swing-state workers who swung for Trump and are leaning his way again – overwhelmingly support a pro-labor agenda. They are furious over "price gouging and outrageous corporate profits…wealthy corporate CEOs and billionaires [not] paying what they should in taxes and the top 1% gaming the system":

https://www.americanfamilyvoices.org/_files/ugd/d4d64f_6c3dff0c3da74098b07ed3f086705af2.pdf

They support universal healthcare, and value Medicare and Social Security, and trust the Democrats to manage both better than Republicans will. They support "abortion rights, affordable child care, and even forgiving student loans":

https://prospect.org/politics/2024-05-20-bidens-working-class-slump/

The problem is that these blue-collar voters are atomized. They no longer meet in union halls – they belong to gun clubs affiliated with the NRA. There are enough people who are a) undecided and b) union members in these swing states to defeat Trump. This is why labor power matters, and why a fusion of American labor and social justice movements matters – and why an international fusion of a labor-social justice coalition is our best hope for a habitable planet and a decent lives for our families.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/20/a-common-foe/#the-multinational-playbook

[maslosstuff]

The recurring characters of Macchio Falls! There are more to come in the future

Information about each character is below

Bash Johnson (Junior)- The high school quarter back and stereotypical school bully. He keeps those lesser than him under his thumb; even bullying teachers to give him an A+. There’s nobody he hates more than the ninja, he vows vengeance from the ninja for stealing his spotlight

Morgan Kranski (Junior)- The Deputy Mayor’s vain and spoiled daughter. She can destroy a girl’s spirit with just her words alone. Morgan wants nothing but to dethrone Heidi as head cheerleader, often teaming up with Bash to achieve her goals. She doesn’t have a problem with Howard

Bucky Hensletter (Freshman)- A clarinet playing dork who often meets the misfortune of being Bash number 1 target. Bucky loves to create symphonies with his talent but he often backs out of publishing his work.

Julian Fowler (Sophomore)- Older cousin of Theresa (by a month) Julian always looks for the positive of a bad situation, he may be not that bright but he makes up for it by rocking out

Theresa Fowler (Junior)- An outgoing and trendy stylist, she loves to try new things whether it be on her body or an extreme sport. Whenever Randy is feeling down or needs a new haircut she’s your girl! She doesn’t attend Macchio high

Pradeep Channa (Sophomore)- Former student at Flackville High, Pradeep is gifted in the field of science and astronomy. He’s often paired with Howard on class projects (This always makes Randy jealous)

Chen kang- Snappy and straightforward. Chen always gets to the point, wasting no time for arguments as even if she’s wrong she’s right. As an photographer, Chen is determined to picture everyone at Macchio High, being obsessed with getting a picture of the Ninja. As every year the Ninja is listed in the “Not Pictured” section of the yearbook. Her parents own the best beauty shop in town (the only one) “You’ve Got Nails Salon

"Stevens" Stephen Richards (Junior)- An outgoing, talkative chill guy. Stevens is always looking for a good time to party and flirt with girls. He isn't without his generosity always helping the little guy, he's deeply ashamed of his academic achievements as he pretends to be stupid. His prestigious parents are unaware of his tomcat endeavors

Susan Thermopolis (Sophomore)- Sarcastic and stern. As student council president she takes her job seriously and those in her inner circle describe her as bossy. She is assertive and outspoken, often sharing her opinions freely. She used to play the flute as a freshman

Raquel Antfee (Freshman)- Sweet and bubbly, yet slightly airheaded. Raquel loves cute things and doesn’t take no for an answer. Whenever someone is in need (whether they like it or not) she on the case. Despite her kindness she has a competitive edge and feels lonely.

David López (Senior)- A man a few words but overall a chill guy despite his peers. He doesn’t take pleasure in bullying others and would help the unfortunate. He’s also a massive musical theatre fan, he shares this interest with Juggo.

“Juggo” Jeremiah Marceau (Freshman)- A silent exchange student from France whos passionate about silent films and the art of mimicry. He loves to tell jokes but no one can understand his silent humor.

[callahanisms]

tell me

instead of writing a fic, i settled on writing just a general collection of headcanons. these are gender neutral. and uh, i'm on a mission to convert my friend to the swann arlaud agenda.

anyways watch anatomy of a fall on a big screen. don't do what i did, which is just watch it on my laptop. movie is too good to be watched on a laptop. and also be a streaming service.

these are gender neutral, by the way.

part 02

character: vincent renzi (aka. hot lawyer from anatomy of a fall)

for vibes: "tell me" by fifty fifty

moving to france wasn't on your list of things to do when you were in your early teens. it was such a drastic move. but unfortunately, it made sense because your mother was a film scholar who specialized in french film and she got a job to teach at a prestigious university. it was an opportunity she had to take and you were brought along for the ride.

picking up french was not that hard. you learned in school and also picked it up from the films your mother watched. you remembered watching Cléo from 5 to 7 a lot. maybe you shouldn't have, considering its themes. being immersed in the environment helped you pick up on it quicker.

all to say, you were fluent by the time you reached university.

you don't remember which class you met him in. you just know you got put in a group together for introductions. typical first year stuff.

"vincent renzi."

he had a boyish charm to him. he looked younger than you, yet you were the same age. there was still some baby fat on his cheeks.

your smile was warm. "(y/n)."

he became one of your first friends.

university was a rough transition period. you left your old friends behind. you didn't like them that much anyways. they didn't seem to like you either. so, you essentially came into university without many friends.

it's a gradual friendship, one that arises from meeting up consistently and then those meetings evolving into hanging out for hours.

doing schoolwork while drinking coffee, reading in the library, going out for dinner. hell even cooking for each other. it was a solid friendship.

it helped that you guys also wandered in the same social circle. so you also had mutual friends, including german exchange student sandra voyter.

they always talked about how you two were together. always seen talking. always seen outside of class. even when you guys had so much work to do and you shouldn't be with him because you guys ended up distracted and procrastinating your papers.

"why do you still have this?" he asks.

it was your third year of university. your place was small cozy. and it was affordable with your two other roommates. you guys had gotten lucky with the rent.

"have what?" you don't look up from your laptop. you were nearly finished with your paper.

"this."

you look up. vincent's holding up a dvd box with a beat up cover sleeve. the colors were faded and the cardboard was bent all over, creating multiple webs.

"because it's mine?"

"it's all beat up. wouldn't it be better to transfer to a new box?" he shrugs.

"my mother gave it to me when i graduated. it's...niche, i guess." you think about how she gifted you her favorite movie and the movie she has written a whole book about.

"everyone knows Céline and Julie Go Boating."

"not in that sense. just in the sense that my mother has an interesting way to mourn me leaving the house." you still stayed with her when you went back. but graduating really proved that you weren't a kid anymore. "i really liked it when i was younger. because of the colors. the rest of the stuff did not register with me. according to her, i kept asking her to put it on."

"you must have had an interesting taste as a child."

"well...she specializes in this stuff. so i'm not surprised."

"you don't even have a tv."

"okay well, i have it for novelty sake."

your eyes return to your laptop screen. you don't notice the way vincent's eyes linger on you, watching the way your fingers intently move as you finish up your paper. or how you furrow your brows when rereading your sentence and realizing it makes no sense. or the gentle curse beneath your breath when you realize you've forgotten a word in your sentence. he's never heard someone curse so gently.

he sets the dvd back where he picked it up from, feeling the worn out cardboard.

it was your birthday. such a scary time, for it to come so soon.

originally, you thought it was going to be you, vincent, sandra, and some of your other friends. after all, vincent was good as organizing group events and outings.

when you showed up at your usual meeting spot, it was just him.

"are they going to meet us there?" you question.

"we'll meet them after." he smiles.

"what is going on in that brain of yours?"

"you'll see."

when he takes your hand, your heart flutters. you've held hands before. but never did it make you feel so...light. like a cloud. you weren't sure if you were imagining your cheeks heating up slightly.

vincent leads you to a nearby cinema. he buys two tickets for a limited showing of Céline and Julie Go Boating.

"this is so..." you can't help but let out a laugh, staring at the movie ticket.

"why not? get the full experience." his eyes are gentle. there's tenderness in his gaze. it makes you feel all warm and gooey on the inside.

"you know the movie is...over three hours long right?"

"of course. that's why i picked an earlier showing. so we can get to dinner on time later."

being in the dark with your friend for over three hours. watching a movie about two people who were coded to be lovers. what could go wrong?

nothing, really. in the eyes of someone else.

to you, and to him, everything.

you haven't seen the film in forever. so rewatching it was like watching it for the first time without being distracted by the colors.

vincent couldn't watch the movie. he was more interested in the way your face shifted, how you whispered about not remembering that happening, how you laughed and the way your lips curled so cutely.

in truth, he could care less about the movie.

you were his favorite film.

as céline and julie were in a soap opera, enacting a hetero-normative plot, you turn to look at vincent. you were wondering how your friend was holding up.

your eyes meet his and your lips can't help but curl into a smile.

"are you watching?"

"of course." his eyes flicker to the screen for a brief moment.

"or were you watching me?"

"your reactions are interesting. they tell me what i should be thinking of the film."

"i shouldn't be the one you judge this film on."

silence between you two. the kind of comfortable silence you two are used to. but something feels more different. perhaps because it was dark. perhaps because the world seemed to fall away and it was just the two of you and the film faded into the background.

you were oddly close to him. your shoulders were touching. and if you moved forward, your noses would be able to touch.

you shift closer, causing his breath to hitch. "thank you for this, by the way." when you whisper, it is a message only meant for him.

"happy birthday." he says. he moves his face closer, heart pounding.

you want to meet him in the middle. you want to feel his soft lips against your own. and yet, something grips you hard. it's stomach curdling.

you move forward, your lips on his cheek. his eyes widen and his shoulders slump a little. you pull away. "it's...nice. to have the bestest friend i know."

"that's not a word." sadness settles in his eyes.

"all words are made up. so i can make up new ones."

in the moment you felt unsure about not making a move. that regret comes to follow you in your life.

graduation came too soon. way too soon.

you had decided to leave france for a bit, go to grad school abroad. somewhere else where you could pursue an mfa in creative writing.

it was your last coffee before you guys would graduate, inevitably separating.

vincent said he wanted to tell you something. it was urgent, something important to him. you could tell he wanted to spit it out.

or did he want to vomit because he was nervous?

"stop leaving me in suspense!" you take a sip of your coffee. "what is it?"

should he tell you?

should he confess?

he wants to tell you. oh so desperately. and yet, he feels it would be selfish to.

it's not about if you didn't feel the same way. to vincent, being rejected is the better scenario.

he didn't want to keep you grounded in france, a place you were looking to leave because you have spent a decent chunk of your life here. moving was good for you.

he worried that if you felt the same way, then maybe you would reconsider going away. and if you were looking to leave forever, he didn't want to be the thing keeping you here.

i love you. i have for a while. let's go on a date.

thirteen words. three sentences.

it was so miniscule. but he felt like atlas, carrying the sky. he was carrying a whole world.

vincent wipes his palms against his jeans. his heart was stuck in his throat. and his brain acted first.

"i got accepted into law school."

"that's great! oh my god!" you nearly squeal for him.

your happiness for him was enough.

writing a hit debut novel is no easy feat. and yet, you did it. people loved your novel.

the novel centered on two friends. their platonic bond ends up in a weird limbo, where there's romantic tension but neither wants to act upon it in fear. ultimately, the two friends reunite years after they separated, on different career paths. they meet at a conference, sit at a bar, and the novel ends with them rekindling their relationship. you left it up to the reader to interpret that being romantic or platonic. or even if they never talked to each other again after that night.

you were on fire as an author. and your recent publication, a collection of short stories, had become particularly famous. especially on social media.

you decided to go back to france for a few months. you wanted to spend more time with your mother and catch up with your friends. all of them you haven't seen since university.

unfortunately it also didn't mean you were on vacation. you still had to work. and you had many book signings to attend to.

when you look up to see the next person, your heart nearly lurches out of your chest.

vincent aged like wine. he still looked like how he did in university. less baby fat. gray hair. some wrinkles. but you liked it.

his eyes meet yours and he walks over. "my favorite short story was the one about the cow farmer."

"that came from a dream i had as an undergraduate student." you open the book and sign the first page. "how are you?"

"good. good. how about you?" he smiles. he's so radiant. you're reminded why you missed him. and why you felt regret in your body from all those years ago.

"well, you already know about me." you gesture to the books. your books. "have you...met up with sandra recently?"

"on the rare occasion. she's been traveling a lot. but recently she moved here. with her husband."

"her husband...samuel?" vincent nods. "he's an interesting character. from the few times i met him."

"they seem to be doing alright." he takes the signed book and peeks at what you wrote. there's a heart next to his name.

"we should talk more. catch up."

"if you're free."

you think for a second. "can you come back in thirty minutes? i should be done by then."

vincent smiles. he leaves the bookstore.

he's waiting outside for you after those thirty minutes.