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sohnric · 9 months ago

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distraction, a fatal attraction – l. chan

pairing: lee chan x fem! reader

genre: strangers to lovers au, college au, fluff. a weird kind of situationship between yn and dino, drunk dino because svt can't stop mentioning his excessive drinking which is so university student of him and i headcanon him as my drinking buddy.

warnings: drinking, swearing, mentions of throwing up, smoking

word count: 7k

a/n: started writing this literally last may. it's now february and i finally finished it after rewriting it like three times... anyways idk how many more svt fics i'll post in the future but i had to get this out in the open lmaoo. as always thank u beloved @csenke for beta reading despite not even being a svt stan <3

You and Lee Chan seem to have the same clubbing tendencies. That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so. (Or - you and Lee Chan have kissed a concerning amout of times before he finally asks for permisson.)

“Can I kiss you?” Chan asks you one March evening and you don’t know why exactly you find yourself so surprised.

By default, it’s only natural for the boy to ask– the two of you aren’t dating, not even close to that, you’d say– and while you wouldn’t really mind if he kissed you without giving you a warning and swooped you off your feet on the stairs leading up to your dormitory building (for you found yourself a little too lightheaded and on the edge of your seat whenever he’s around lately, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach only further proving your assumptions– you have a silly, little crush on the male), you must admit that him asking for permission is quite nice. Surprising, but nice.

One might think you’re surprised because there was nothing that could lead you to this scenario– one might think you and Lee Chan were nothing but friends, not even close ones, per se (you just have a group of mutual friends that somehow always brought you two together when either one of you got excluded out of their conversations, ending up as each other’s, although pleasant, last resort). One might even think the two of you are hanging out alone for the first time together, which isn’t that far away from the truth in the first place, but still, is a blatant lie. What’s so surprising about the question to you, then?

The fact that this isn’t the first time you and Lee Chan would be kissing, and the sheer fact leaves you wondering if he’s forgotten, or if he never really remembered in the first place.

You and Chan have kissed…. an embarrassing amount of times for people that aren’t dating, or anywhere close to the said establishment. The circumstances of said kisses differ from time to time, and while you thought that they were meaningless at first, you must admit that as time went by, you selfishly and almost a little pathetically looked forward to each and every time where a similar situation might occur and his lips would end up on yours again.

The first time you and Chan kissed was also the first time you two met. It’s a strange sentence to use when describing a story about your first kiss with someone that you’re currently (hopefully) on a date with, but it’s the one you have to use, because it’s true.

The group you walked into the club with on the first day of orientation during your freshman year of college consisted of all your upperclassmen friends– the girls you had met in high school and didn’t fail to keep in contact with: Lee Chaeryeong, Kim Minjeong and Huh Yunjin. You would trust these three girls with your whole entire life, and so when they had told you that they could show you around the campus and let you in on all the secrets you only learn with months of attending college, you felt like you just won the lottery.

After the cheerful senior Choi Soobin walked your humongous group through the campus and showed all of your classmates the fundamental parts of the college building (the gym, the labs and most importantly, the cafeteria), he invited you all to the open semester party in the club just a few minutes away from the campus. And yes, the party was originally supposed to be mainly for the freshmen, but as soon as you texted your friends to let them know about your whereabouts, they announced to you that there is no way you were going back to your dorm room so quickly– the whole campus was supposed to be on that party, and that’s exactly why you were forced to stay.

“So, how do you like it here so far?” Chaeryeong asks you as you start swinging your hips to the rhythm of the music, the DJ surprisingly not as bad as you expected him to be from the reviews you heard from the girls when standing in the queue leading towards the club.

“The music isn’t as bad as you said it will be,” you yell over the music into your friend’s ear, having her roll her eyes and shake her head at you in disbelief.

“I meant the campus, not the club, you silly goose,” she clarifies, making you gasp at the sentence.

“Oh!” you laugh. “Well, I’m less frightened, that’s for sure.”

“That’s gonna come back to you once the exam season starts,” Chaeryeong notes, snickering. The comment is slightly terrifying– therefore you choose to ignore it and stick it somewhere to the back of your brain to come back to when the time is right and your anxiety is no longer a far-away thing, but a very present and real issue.

“Ah! I see Mingyu there!” she suddenly screams, pointing somewhere behind you. “I’m gonna go talk to him, can you try finding our table and going back to Minjeong and Yunjin?”

“I’ll be fine,” you nodded, trying to believe the sentence just as much as you were trying to convince your friend of it. The place was filled with people, and although you didn’t feel particularly in danger, you were getting a little scared of getting walked over to death in the wave of the drunk upperclassmen enjoying themselves in the club.

Feet dragging you through the crowd painfully slowly, you try hard to find your table on the sides of the club. Your eyes never really had a 20/20 vision, but the neon lighting of the club and the glass of Martini you’d had before stepping to the dance floor with Chaeryeong really didn’t help you in seeing things clearly. No matter how hard you try, you can’t find your two other friends anywhere, and if you are being completely honest, you’re almost certain the table you previously sat at with your group was now occupied with someone completely else– meaning that your dear friends either left to the dancefloor, or left the club completely (which you doubted, but the possibilities were never really 0).

And so with that, you drag yourself towards the bar. You think that was a better option to choose in this situation– since you thought that going out for some fresh air is just going to get you kidnapped if you went there alone– and you also figured that you’d be easier to find by your lost friends if you were somewhere out in the open instead of in the corners of the humid room. Ordering yourself another Martini to pass the time, you drink the beverage in slow sips before you feel the presence of someone on the bar stool next to you.

You look up at the stranger beside you, noticing a boy around your age sending you a shy, yet charming look. “Do you mind if I sit here?” he asks.

“Not really,” you answer, watching as the boy nods, his shoulders relaxing as he orders himself a drink.

“Are you here alone?” he asks as he looks back at you again, face tugging into a panicked expression when he realizes the implication his words may hold. “I’m not asking in a creepy way, or anything, it’s just- I’m a freshman and I lost the people I came here with, so I’m kind of alone here as well…” he quickly explains, eyes big and honest, “you just looked like you could use some company,” he explains, making an endeared smile flash over your features.

Shaking your head at his tangent, you wave him off with your hand. “Don’t worry, I got it,” you laugh, “and the same as you, actually. I came here with my friends, but they disappeared somewhere, so I just sat here and figured they’ll find me eventually.”

“Great minds think alike,” the boy laughs, holding up his glass before taking another sip, “well, until that happens, I guess we can hang out, can’t we? My name’s Chan.”

“Y/N,” you introduce yourself, “it’s nice meeting you, Chan.”

The two of you talk about everything and anything: where he comes from, where you come from, which dorm building you’re staying at, which dorm building he’s staying at, your major (literature) and his major (dance), your friends and his friends– and with the increasing amount of information you get out of him, the pull of gravity sends you more and more towards the boy. Chan is charming, talkative and fun. You find yourself attracted to him each time he cracks a joke or teases you about your choice of your favorite movie (‘This is the first time I’ve heard anyone say The gods must be crazy is their favorite movie!’), and that’s exactly why you don’t find it in you to say no when he asks if he could buy you a drink.

One drink turns into two– three, four, eventually even five– and you progressively start to forget all about your lost friends as you ask Chan to show you what being a dance major is all about and invite him to the dancefloor, swinging your hips back and forth to the rhythm.

You don’t know if they teach this type of choreography in dance school, but as the songs change from more upbeat to less energetic and more sensual, you find yourself a little too enchanted with the way Chan’s features soften under the neon pinks and purples, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck and stepping closer to him. His arm ends up on your lower back– dangerously close to your bottom, which you aren’t that opposed to anyway– and when his nose brushes against the shell of your ear in the middle of one of the songs to talk to you, you can’t help but press yourself against him closer.

“You’re kind of good at this, for a literature major,” he hums, his voice making shivers run down your spine.

And sure, it could’ve been just the alcohol levels in your blood that made you so dangerously close to him, but as you study his features– although a little hazily, but still fully taking in the sharp angles of his jaw and the sparkles in his eyes– you don’t have it in you to pull away when the boy leans in and kisses you, lips enchanting you the same way his moves have.

His kiss is heated and sensual, the one that makes your knees buckle and your mind go on overdrive, creating all sorts of fantasies in your delirious brain, and you must admit you don’t mind it when his hands slip further down to grope your butt, the two of you still lazily moving to the rhythm of the song in the background. The sound is coming in a little muffled to your ears as you let yourself fully indulge in the moment– it’s not every day you make out with an extremely attractive guy in the club– before your oxygen runs out and you have to pull away from him, instead studying Chan’s swollen lips from up close. They are inviting you for more, especially as his eyes open and look at you all blown-out and hazy, but you figure that he can wait. You have to catch your breath first and get yourself together– if you don't want to come completely undone in the middle of the crowded dance floor, that is.

You could honestly stare into his face forever, if you wanted to– except, you don’t have the chance as a loud voice from behind you calls: “Y/N! There you are!”

Annoyed thoughts fill your brain the very second you hear Minjeong from behind your back– where were they for the last hour? Of course they had to find you when the night was finally getting good– but you turn towards her nonetheless, showing her an innocent smile. You notice the girl is accompanied by the rest of your girl clover, alongside a tall guy that shows your companion a mischievous grin. “So I see you and Chan have already met and we don’t have to introduce you to each other anymore,” he says.

The sentence has you nervously clear your throat and take a step away from Chan. The boy ironically heaves out a: “Mingyu! How nice to see you again, after an hour.”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t having fun.”

Feeling the atmosphere grow awkward, you quickly look at your friends, smiling tightly to try and save the situation (while also acting as if you didn’t just finish making out with their friend’s friend). “Where did you all go anyway?”

“Oh, we met Seungkwan and Vernon, so we decided to sit together, and then Chae came with Mingyu after some time, and that’s when we realized we were each missing a person… so here we are,” Minjeong clarifies, having you nod.

In conclusion, this is the story of how you met Lee Chan. What was supposed to be a one-night thing at a club for you, never really expecting to see the boy ever again (except from accidental meetings on the campus that could very well be played off as neither of you remembering), turned into a whole another situation as the two of you now shared a surprisingly tightly-knit friend group.

You never spoke about the kiss again. Or much at all, really.

Kind of disappointed with the fact, but still kind of okay with the situation, you found yourself falling into rhythm with the newly found world at university. You’d gotten used to the all-nighters, the weird partying in the middle of the week on a school night, to the hookup culture you’ve never really found yourself fitting in with, and with the life that comes to you when living in a dormitory. All of these somehow had the presence of Lee Chan included, though, as you learned on another Wednesday night (those are the designated bar runs when you’re friends with Chwe Vernon and Boo Seungkwan– since their Thursdays are free and they can get as drunk as they want without fearing being hungover in class), much to your surprise, you and the charismatic boy have the same clubbing tendencies.

That being: drinking a little too much at times and getting a little too touchy when doing so.

It doesn’t help that the both of you were light-weights– or at least that’s what you’ve been told.

You two don’t talk to each other much before getting a few drinks in, since you’re a little shy when it comes to the charming, but endearing boy. What his reasoning for the seeming lack of interest in you when sober is, you’re not really sure– but as the night usually goes, you bet with Vernon on who can drink more tequila shots before their gag reflex hits, and sooner or later, you find yourself drunk at the bar.

Once your otherwise stoic friend feels that it’s too much for him to handle and trails to the toilets (accompanied by a sulking Sungkwan complaining that ‘He always does this, ruining the night for everyone!’), you allow yourself to get back to the dance floor. Sounds like a good idea in theory, but is a bad idea in practice– somewhere along the way, you start to feel too dizzy in the heat of the crowd, the lightheadedness making you feel sick. Your figure is quickly dragged outside by a person you didn’t notice has been keeping their eyes on you, and only when you finally slip to the floor and sit on the pavement in front of the crowded bar, you recognise the guardian angel staring down at you with hazy eyes

“You looked like you were going to faint over there,” Chan hums, a perky expression playing with his face. There’s a boyish grin spread over his lips as he stares at your disheveled composure, the two of you coming into a weird sense of déja vu you’re convinced only a few shots of tequila can bring you into on a Wednesday night.

“Oh, I was going to,” you nod, watching as the boy settles next to you on the ground. The place around you is buzzing in true college fashion– people smoking, drinking off-the-counter alcohol straight from the bottle they got at the corner shop down the street because it’s cheaper than the shots in the club, people meeting and talking about their majors and where they’re from, making new connections.

“Thank god I was there to rescue you, then,” Chan chuckles, shoving you with his elbow.

“Yeah, my guardian angel,” you hum dreamily, giggling at the ridiculousness of your comment.

“Saw Vernon running off with Seungkwan tailing him,” he nods, “now that’s not a guardian angel.”

“That’s a guardian devil for sure,” you hum, pursing your lips. “Wouldn’t want to have Seungkwan as my caretaker. He complains too much.”

“They argue like a married couple,” Chan snickers.

“It’s the curse of being roommates. After a certain amount of time, you start to view each other like you’re married,” you hum, nodding to yourself.

“Do you consider Minjeong to be your wife?”

“No,” you sigh, shrugging, “she’s too immature to be my wife. I think of her more like my child, actually.”

“Well, looking at you right now, you don’t seem to be the more mature one out of the duo,” he pokes a finger to your side, making you jolt away at the contact. Furrowing your brows at him, clearly a little offended, you huff at him.

“The roles change when I drink. That’s how marriage works,” you say, closing your eyes and pressing your lips together, nodding, fully pleased with yourself.

Chan laughs at you. “I thought you said she was more like your child?”

“Then stop thinking, Chan.”

“You were the one who said it!” he points out, shaking his head in disbelief. You’re not sure to what extent you can blame this on the effect of alcohol– what can you say. Sometimes you get too tied up in your own lies.

“Oh,” you snicker, “right.”

“Dummy,” he teases, flicking the side of your thigh, making your blood boil with frustration.

“Who are you calling dummy?” you argue, having a perfect comeback to snap back at the boy. “Weren’t you the one coming to the wrong class for 2 weeks?”

Chan’s whole composure crumbles, a serious look tinted with hints of shame overtaking his previously grinning face. “Who told you that?”

“Not relevant,” you shrug. You find that it’s the best to keep the identity of the mole confidential. (It was Mingyu.)

“Was it Seungkwan?”

“No.”

“So it was.”

Sometimes you wonder just how clueless Lee Chan really is. Although you don’t think he’s slow, you must admit that he does have his moments that keep you wondering just how he can operate in the world without being used or manipulated on a daily basis. Is anyone keeping an eye on him? What if he accidentally joins a cult one day?

“Well, whoever told me wasn’t the one going to a completely different class for 2 weeks straight, so–”

“Look, it’s not my fault they make the schedule so difficult to read! The classes were overlapping on the thing, and I didn’t know which one applied to me, so I just assumed I could choose,” this has you laughing out loud at the boy, “and so I just chose one. I didn’t know those were electives. I didn’t even sign up for any electives! Can you believe that? We are supposed to have electives?”

He looks so endearing as he speaks, laughing to himself and gesturing with his arms. There’s a sense of fondness pooling in your stomach as you reach over and plant a soft, quick peck to his lips. The male seems to be caught off-guard as he stops in his tracks, not a single word coming out of his lips after your action– and truth be told, although you’re kind of glad for the silence, the thought of scaring him away makes you a little anxious. When you look at him from the side, though, the boy is grinning.

Scattering to your feet, you wobbly waddle back into the humid building. You don’t think either of you could continue on with the conversation after your actions, and so you figure the best way to go around this is to leave. “Well, I’ll see you on the dance floor, Channie.”

The third time you manage to lock your lips with his is no different. It’s January now, though, and Seungkwan decided to host his birthday in one of the houses you can rent on the beach. It isn't as fun as it would've been in summer and you could go for a swim, but let’s be realistic– you'd never say no to a good birthday celebration.

There’s havoc erupting all around you as your friend group sings the birthday song to Seungkwan. You all had something to drink prior to the cake ceremony, since some of you came sooner than the others and you figured that you have to wait for everyone with the cake, and so the singing now resembles a mating call of five dolphins more than the casual, harmonic birthday song.

Seungkwan is sitting at the table, the rest of you gathered around him– some with glasses in their hands, some recording the commotion with their phones– and when the song is over and the birthday boy made his wish, he blows out the candles on the cake. Clapping resonates through the little kitchen, everyone ready for the cake, when Chan pushes the older one’s face straight into the icing.

It only takes Seungkwan half a second before he starts chasing the little devil around the beach house. The younger one is laughing at his own antics– which you must admit, although a little childish, you find to be quite endearing– and the older one curses at him with the most colorful vocabulary you’ve ever heard him say out loud. Not even Lee Chan’s own mother has ever scolded him in a way Boo Seungkwan is able to.

“Do you think Seungkwan would mind if I start cutting the cake without him?” Minjeong asks as she gets out a large knife– she looks a little threatening, you must say– which has you shrugging.

“I think he’s preoccupied right now,” you say.

“Yeah, but I’ve waited for this cake for over two hours,” she grunts, “so if he doesn’t want to cut it, I’ll do it for him,” she shrugs to herself and proceeds with her intentions.

Minjeong cuts straight through the face imprint of Boo Seungkwan in his own cake, slicing the red velvet into equal parts to put on the paper plates Vernon found somewhere in the back cupboards of the kitchen. “Do you want some?”

“In a minute,” you laugh, shaking your head at your roommate, “I’ll go get them before they kill each other. I think the cake is enough to make truce fall over this war.”

“Stay safe out there,” Chaeryeong hums, nodding as she takes a paper plate and puts a chunky slice of the cake on, taking a fork into her hand and tasting the icing. “It’s surprisingly good even with Seungkwan’s skin cells in it.”

Minjeong slaps the other girl’s back, gritting her teeth. “Of course it’s good! I baked that shit for 2 hours and Y/N wouldn’t help, because she didn’t want to ruin it–”

(You just didn’t feel like baking. You don’t want to have another fight with your roommate about it, though, and that’s another excuse to leave the kitchen and go find Chan with his murderer.)

Peering your eyes around the whole beach house, you fail to find Seungkwan anywhere. Assuming you two accidentally missed each other and he’s back reunited with his cake, your legs automatically lead you on the patio, where you find Chan resting against the railway. He is wearing a leather jacket, his hair now a little longer than when you first met him in September, and when the noise of the back door opening lands into his ears, he makes a turn and watches you cross the space between you, all while eyeing your naked legs.

You contemplated if wearing a mini skirt in the middle of January was a good idea, but the satisfaction running through your veins at his hungry, yet collected eyes make it all worth it.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks. You shake your head in answer, but he pays it no attention as he takes off his jacket and puts it around your shoulders, the smell of his cologne filling your nose like a blissful drug. You’ve always liked attention, but when it comes to Lee Chan, you are twice as satisfied when he pays you just a mere glance.

“Not anymore,” you hum, smiling to yourself. “Seungkwan gave up on murdering you?”

“I think it was more of a health concern for him. He was breathing so heavily after a few minutes of running that I thought he was going to suffocate,” Chan snickers, making you laugh.

“I’d sleep with one eye open tonight anyway,” you peep, “just in case.”

“Oh, definitely,” he nods, grinning. “I won’t even take any drinks from him in case he poisons them. Better be safe than sorry.”

He takes out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, lights up one for himself and offers you one as well. Even though you always promise yourself you’re quitting and that smoking is a bad habit you should overcome, you eagerly nod and watch him with half-lidded eyes as he lights it for you, one hand close to your face shielding the lighter from the chilly breeze, just like every time. You haven't had that much to drink yet, but the effect of nicotine always makes your head spin when the smoke fills your lungs. Truth be said, though, you are afraid that the proximity of your friend doesn’t help much with the weakness of your knees either.

“Come inside, you’re gonna catch a cold,” he mumbles when the both of you are done smoking, hands gripping the sides of his open jacket on your body, tugging you towards him just the slightest amount.

Like another bad habit the both of you have to break, he seems to pause for a second, as if questioning himself one more time before he goes for it and places a short peck to your lips, leading you to the beach house again, now flushed and internally squealing.

The fourth time, it happens on his own birthday party.

It’s too late in the semester for any of you to experience a big party, the exam season being just around the corner. You still managed to gather and celebrate nonetheless– the boys letting you into their dorm building, your little friend group fitting inside of the communal kitchen on the end of the hall. People passing by look at you with half concerned, half annoyed faces at the commotion– which is understandable, nobody wants ruckus just down the hall when they’re supposed to be working on the last-minute assignments– but you don’t mind it much, telling yourself it’s not your problem in the first place and you’re allowed to have a bit of fun once in a while, as long as you’re not the one being wronged in the moment.

A bottle of champagne is taken out of the fridge by the hands of the birthday boy, the commotion around you happily cheering and clapping (only Chaeryeong hides away from the pointed tip of the bottle, knowing all too well that Chan is not to be trusted with things that can explode), and while Mingyu encourages the boy to pop the champagne open out of the window, you all realize that the action is indeed, not possible.

“Don’t tell me you got the one with the lid that screws on!” Seungkwan turns around to scream into Vernon’s face, having the poor man shrug to himself.

“You can’t really tell in the store when the seal is on–”

“Then you should’ve double checked–” the nagging would go on further if it wasn’t for the last bits of common sense from the birthday boy himself (that Seungkwan would protect with everything in him, making sure their youngest has the best birthday ever, but would never admit to it outloud), as he just unscrews the lid and flicks it out of the opened window instead, earning himself a couple of cheers and claps from the rest of the group.

The bottle gets passed around the circle, each of you chugging the sparkly alcohol straight from it– because pouring the drinks would take too much effort, and also, there weren't even enough glasses for everyone to pour the beverage into anyway.

The tallest one out of the gathering takes a cake out of the overstuffed fridge, lighting a singular candle in the middle and holding it up in front of the birthday boy’s face. There are sparkles in Chan’s eyes despite the poor condition of the cake– it’s one of those you get discounted in the dollar store, one of those that don’t even have candles on them and you have to get them yourself (which is exactly why Chan’s cake only has a singular, yellow candle in the middle)– and you find yourself admiring the sheer joy and appreciation in his orbs with fondness in your heart.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you–”

“Happy birthday, dear Channie!” Seungkwan’s vocal abilities shine through in the heartfelt song, the dramaticness of your whole group never denying itself as all of them make sure to sing to Chan with as much theatrical over-exaggeration as they can. Chan watches the flame with an inkling in his eye you can’t quite place. He looks adorable, you think.

You watch from behind as he blows out the candle. Something inside of you beams at the sight of your friend growing older– the fact that you’re here, celebrating with him moving something in you. You don’t often like it when people get older, but you think birthday celebrations make the sentiment worth it. In a moment of particular fondness, you hug the boy from the back– where you’ve been standing, considering the crammed nature of the kitchen– and whisper a giddy ‘Happy birthday!’ into his ear.

The male turns his head to you, a grin settling on his lips as he scans your face from up close. He looks at you with a look that you can’t really read, but makes you all warm from the inside. It’s different to the way he usually looks at you, and you only decipher it when he quickly leans towards your face and presses a peck to your lips. Only then it starts to all make sense.

He does it in front of everybody, the rest of your friends whistling at the action. Your heart leaps a little as you wrestle Chan off with a laugh, trying hard to keep the unseriousness of it all. If you can keep lying to your friends about the way you feel towards the male, maybe you’ll even manage to convince yourself.

The cake is taken away from his grasp and placed onto the table, ready to be served. You keep a calculated distance away from him, but that still doesn’t keep you from watching the boy from afar. There’s a certain haziness in his eyes when you stare at him from across the room and an aftertaste of vodka on your tongue when you lick it off your lips.

The fifth time, it happens when you gather to celebrate passing your exams.

College kids have only one way of celebrating the joys of life (as well as only one way of dealing with sorrows), and that is– you guessed it– alcohol. The whole friend group gathered in the common kitchen of the boy’s dormitories again, soju bottles ringing against each other as you cheered and drowned in the taste of the liquor. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t watching Chan the whole time, the endearing twinkles in his eyes making you foolishly drink more and more, a weird desire in you just begging to be drowned out, since you couldn’t do anything about it.

Once the night was over and the bottles were all emptied, the boys decided to walk you back to your dorm building.

“Gyu, it’s literally a 10 minute walk across the campus. What could possibly happen on the way there?” Minjeong laughed, but the commotion followed you outside nonetheless.

“It’s dark outside!” Mingyu insisted. “You never know what could happen. I don’t want the responsibility of your dead bodies on my hands.”

“Chaeryeong is feral enough to fight off any creeps alone, you don’t have to worry about us,” Minjeong joked, but the boys followed you outside nonetheless, grabbing their coats and escaping the warmth of their dorms.

You find yourself trailing behind the group, the essence of soju lulling you to a peaceful slumber that you perform despite still being on the go, your brain coated with the incoherent buzz. Lee Chan finds his stance next to you, cautiously watching over your step as you shuffle across the sidewalk, a gentle voice coaxing you awake.

“Got any plans for the winter break?” he asks.

“Probably just going to stay home with my parents for a bit,” you muse, shrugging. “Have lots of naps… I need to recharge. This semester was too hectic.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me that,” Chan admits, chuckling at your shared despair.

Kicking the pebbles under your feet, you watch as the male indulges in a little game of football with you, passing the chosen rock back to you each time you kick it too far. The air is crisp and you sniffle a little from the cold every once in a while, but every time you catch the playful twinkle in Chan’s eyes when the pebble hits the side of your shoe again, you feel a bit of warmth engulfing you from the inside.

“I think this whole thing would be far less enjoyable if it wasn’t for you guys,” Chan admits, licking his lips. He’s right– it’s always better to have someone to rely on in university. You can’t imagine going to school and not having a familiar face to fall back to any time you feel lonely. It’s easier when you know all the insider tips from your older upperclassmen friends– when you have a default friend group you fit into without actually attempting to make any new friends yourself. Suddenly, you’re awfully thankful for everyone.

“Yeah. Although they did turn me into an alcoholic, it seems,” you chuckle, earning yourself an amused giggle coming from Chan.

“Oh, for sure,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck. “We have to tune it down next semester. Wouldn’t wanna end up in AA instead of graduating.”

“Now, that’s a long way from here,” you say, shaking your head in amusement.

“You never know before it’s too late, to be fair.”

You don’t realize it back then, but Chan is always somehow there when you take it too far, taking note of your drunken needs and providing you safety from creeps in the club. Lee Chan holds your hair back when you throw up, your stomach too weak on certain nights. He is there when you want to dance and also when you want to cool down. He’s your drinking buddy, sure, but the reality is greater than that– he always wants you to have fun and be as comfortable as you can be. If he can do anything to ensure that, he’s going to do it.

That applies to your sober adventures as well, although he’s more reserved when he has nothing to blame for his obviously smitten actions. Cranking his neck to look at you better, Chan decides to get rid of anything to blame next time.

Maybe he has to try harder.

Just tonight, for the last time, Chan kisses you with an excuse of alcohol to fall back on in front of your dorm building when nobody is watching, paying his goodbyes to you. He kisses you almost tenderly, making your knees buckle and the lightness in your stomach cry out with full measures.

“I’ll miss you, Y/L/N.”

You don't see Chan for a while after. You spend the rest of the winter break you have after completing your exams at home, relaxing with your parents. They are right when they say that the holidays should be spent with your family– no matter how much you love the friends you made in university.

Coming back to school after the few weeks of break brought a sudden change to your and Chan’s dynamic, though. While you must admit that you’ve grown strangely closer over the months, talking more even sober and naturally gravitating towards each other when sitting in booths at McDonald’s or falling into casual conversation at the back of the group when walking to places with everyone, you find that Chan puts more effort into being friends with you now.

He texts you randomly through-out the day, asking you how you are and what you’re up to. He sends you pictures of Seungkwan when he’s sleeping in the lectures, and you even find yourself laughing at the Instagram reels he randomly shoots your way in the middle of the night sometimes. He doesn’t drink much even when all of you end up going to the nearby bar again on a Tuesday evening, and you find yourself following his pattern, knowing that even if you gave in to the alcohol, the tipsy state wouldn’t be as fun if you didn’t have anyone to share the same energy with.

Because while you do enjoy drinking, the truth is, it’s not as fun without your drinking buddy. Half the fun of drinking is having fun with the people you share the moment with, and, well, it wouldn’t feel right to drink with the others being sober. You owe your friends that much.

Lee Chan puts effort into being friends with you more, and you don’t know if you like it.

Because even though before, you weren’t as close as you might be now, the adrenaline of what could be and what even is between the two of you any time you’re under the influence was exciting you, keeping you on your toes, making you feel desired and liked. Now, he’s relaxed– no more than an arm around your shoulder when his hand gets tired in the booth of the bar. The casualty of it all gets you worried.

So when the time comes and the two of you finally hang out one on one today, getting boba and then finding comfort in the April sunlight provided by the park across from your dorms, you find yourself questioning the nature of this hangout. And you think you’re not wrong for that, of course– everyone with working two eyes must admit that Lee Chan has been sending you mixed signals so far.

Hearing the question “Can I kiss you?” from his mouth, his cheeks dusted pink and eyes big in anticipation, was even more surprising to your ears, and you might understand it better now– the history you have with the boy suggests that there’s no need in asking, but also, the intentions are more than unclear at the moment. He’s not drunk– not even tipsy– why is this happening, then?

“I mean, we don’t have to, of course, I– I just–” he stutters, eyes aimlessly breaking eye contact with yours to stare anywhere but at your lips right now, nerves clearly written all over his face and in the stance he’s taking, a few steps below you on the stairway to the dormitory. Snickering at his hesitance, you sigh to yourself.

“This is the first time you asked,” you mumble a little jokingly, and when the boy’s eyes finally meet yours again, he seems a little embarrassed from the way his ears are burning red and he chews on the inside of his cheek.

The tone of his voice is kind of defeated, a little shy, even, when he speaks up again. “Well, yeah,” he shrugs, “so I finally wanted to do it right. And sober, no matter how fucking wrong and weird that sounds.”

Breaking into a soft laughter at his comment– because truthfully, to a stranger’s ear, that might sound a little alarming– you roll your eyes at the boy and lean down to be at his level, palms of your hands meeting with his cheeks as he watches you with curious eyes, the sparkle in them filling you to the brim with endearance. Your lips meet with his in a gentle, soft, yet yearning-filled kiss, having your eyes fluttering close and the pads of your thumbs softly stroking over the skin of his cheekbones.

The kiss is no different to the ones you’ve shared before– well, except there’s no loud music in the background, no smell of trash cans behind the bar or the smoke of an earlier-smoked cigarette in the air, and most importantly, no taste of alcohol on either of your lips– but still, it feels a little different. Sure, it has your knees week and your stomach feeling fuzzy, it does make you feel like you’re drunker than you were, which now, sober, you realize it just the effect Lee Chan has on you alone, but there’s a little more care, thought and intention to the kiss now, and it hits you with full force when you pull away from him and feel his hands glazing the skin of your waist in a hesitant hug.

“So that means this was a date then, right?” you ask.

“Well, you didn’t really seem to care about that all the times we've kissed before–” he jokes, earning himself a swat to his shoulder.

Now he’s bold.

“Okay, sure, if it helps you sleep at night. I’ll even take you out on another one, if you want.”

Turns out that alcohol was the variable in your relationship that only brought you two courage– the desire to kiss his lips off has always been there, you just never acted on it sober. And while you’re not so sure you’re gonna tell the story of how you two met in detail to your kids one day, you’re glad for the kick the rum and coke gave you on the day of your orientation, because who knows. Maybe you wouldn’t be here without the weird coincidence.

#seventeen #dino #lee chan #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #dino fic #dino fluff #dino x reader #lee chan fic #lee chan fluff #lee chan x reader #seventeen reactions #svt fluff #svt x reader #dino scenario #dino drabble #lee chan scenario #lee chan drabble

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machine-saint · 1 year ago

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the op of that "you should restart your computer every few days" post blocked me so i'm going to perform the full hater move of writing my own post to explain why he's wrong

why should you listen to me: took operating system design and a "how to go from transistors to a pipelined CPU" class in college, i have several servers (one physical, four virtual) that i maintain, i use nixos which is the linux distribution for people who are even bigger fucking nerds about computers than the typical linux user. i also ran this past the other people i know that are similarly tech competent and they also agreed OP is wrong (haven't run this post by them but nothing i say here is controversial).

anyway the tl;dr here is:

you don't need to shut down or restart your computer unless something is wrong or you need to install updates

i think this misconception that restarting is necessary comes from the fact that restarting often fixes problems, and so people think that the problems are because of the not restarting. this is, generally, not true. in most cases there's some specific program (or part of the operating system) that's gotten into a bad state, and restarting that one program would fix it. but restarting is easier since you don't have to identify specifically what's gone wrong. the most common problem i can think of that wouldn't fall under this category is your graphics card drivers fucking up; that's not something you can easily reinitialize without restarting the entire OS.

this isn't saying that restarting is a bad step; if you don't want to bother trying to figure out the problem, it's not a bad first go. personally, if something goes wrong i like to try to solve it without a restart, but i also know way, way more about computers than most people.

as more evidence to point to this, i would point out that servers are typically not restarted unless there's a specific need. this is not because they run special operating systems or have special parts; people can and do run servers using commodity consumer hardware, and while linux is much more common in the server world, it doesn't have any special features to make it more capable of long operation. my server with the longest uptime is 9 months, and i'd have one with even more uptime than that if i hadn't fucked it up so bad two months ago i had to restore from a full disk backup. the laptop i'm typing this on has about a month of uptime (including time spent in sleep mode). i've had servers with uptimes measuring in years.

there's also a lot of people that think that the parts being at an elevated temperature just from running is harmful. this is also, in general, not true. i'd be worried about running it at 100% full blast CPU/GPU for months on end, but nobody reading this post is doing that.

the other reason i see a lot is energy use. the typical energy use of a computer not doing anything is like... 20-30 watts. this is about two or three lightbulbs worth. that's not nothing, but it's not a lot to be concerned over. in terms of monetary cost, that's maybe $10 on your power bill. if it's in sleep mode it's even less, and if it's in full-blown hibernation mode it's literally zero.

there are also people in the replies to that post giving reasons. all of them are false.

temporary files generally don't use enough disk space to be worth worrying about

programs that leak memory return it all to the OS when they're closed, so it's enough to just close the program itself. and the OS generally doesn't leak memory.

'clearing your RAM' is not a thing you need to do. neither is resetting your registry values.

your computer can absolutely use disk space from deleted files without a restart. i've taken a server that was almost completely full, deleted a bunch of unnecessary files, and it continued fine without a restart.

#i just had to get this out of my mind

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pansyfemme · 1 year ago

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jude + he/him + twenty

art account: @fagboyfriend

music recs/indie pop uploads blog: @upforabit

i'm a trans, queer, and disabled art student, diehard indie-popper, colorfreak and amateur tboy appriciator from the east coast. i post about music and comics and art and my boyfriendddddd💖💖💖 and all my other favorite topics with frequency.

testimonals from real life jude pansyfemme friends on why i’m epic and you should follow me:

“jude is one of the sweetest people to ever grace this planet and one sexy motherfucker” - M, jude’s number one coffee shop buddy

“he’s just a little guy” - L, jude tolerator (and fan) since 2022

“you’re legally not allowed to be mean to him” - F, jude’s bestie for life maybe

“1# boyfriend. in the world. 💖” - you can probably guess this one

follow at ur own risk, i do not tag and i reblog nudity, sex jokes, discussions of kink or other things generally considered nsfw <3

putting a short faq under cut bc. i get the same questions a lot. check it before you ask about my icon or header or anything

faq:

Art blog/Commissions? @fagboyfriend is the blog. dm me and i can send you my professional portfolio site/organized portfolio/past commission work if you’re interested in commissions. closed for a little bit since im moving into college atm but still hmu if you have interest in originals ive posted or have a project you dont mind a few months waitlist on <3

How long have you been on T/How long have you been transitioning? I came out at 12 years old, started blockers at 14 and HRT later that same year, and had top surgery at 17, making me 5.5 years on t and 3 years post op, and transitioning/out for about eight years.

What’s your tagging system?/What does this tag mean? #Jude pansyfem irl is for selfies and ootds. #songposting is my now retired method for posting song links. (all new song links are now at @upforabit) #echo is the name of my boyfriend, it’s posts that remind me of him, my interactions with him, etc. (that tag is very lovey-dovey and really just for him to look through) other than that i don’t usually tag. you can expect untagged nudity and sex, at this point you have been warned twice so dont get on my ass about it 👍 my blog my rules

What show/game/comic is your icon from? its a cropped version of the album cover of the 1999 album “shake the pounce” by vancouver based twee pop band Gaze. It’s a favorite album of mine as well as just a cool little guy i like a lot

Where is your header from? a painting i did in gouache a year or two ago and thought would make a nifty header.

How do I refer to you/How do you identify? I’m a queer femme transgender man. I use he/him pronouns and masculine terms. i like many genders, i’m strictly t4t and primarily interested in men though. i enjoy femme/gnc gender presentation, but i do not identify as anything other than a binary ftm transgender person. I do not use they/them and have not at any point in recent history. referring to me as such is misgendering/degendering and will probably get you blocked like any other misgendering.

What compliments are okay? most are okay, masc or fem. so pretty, handsome, all thats good 👍 i am a taken man tho so if you flirt with me hard or dm me looking for pics or something you prob wont get much of a response.

What style are you wearing/where do you get your clothes? I originally identified as a decora boy, but i kinda do my own thing these days. I like bright color and clashing patterns and maximallism. I shop a variety of places, but a lot of my stuff is from Kei Collective and Candy Trap. All of my kandi and most of my jewlery is homemade.

What is Twee/Do you Make Music? Twee is a music genre I developed a special interest in a few years back. It's a style of indie pop that originated after the UK rise of the famous c86 compilation tape in the late eighties, and was developed with a focus on low-fidelity, diy sound combined with upbeat, bubblegum-y pop sentiments and a naive, childlike outlook. It's both cute and somewhat rough around the edges. I do not make music, and don’t hold any musical skill. I’m just a major fan.

Do you have a DNI? I haven't in a long time, due to it being pretty frequently ignored and my following count growing to the point i can't really control that anymore. I can and will block people, but i feel my opinions are made fairly clear through what I post here.

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meowzcw · 3 months ago

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I finally drew my oc A-Sans normally on here instead of kawaii doodles 🔥🔥 (By the way he stole that jacket off a coat rack like a hermit crab, that's why it's like size asgore)

(I HAD TO FIX HIM SO THIS IS A REPOST OF MY OWN DRAWING 😭)

Reblogs are appreciated ‼️

His/au backstory down below if you wanna read 🦟 just a warning it's not original or anything and there's obv a lot of hcs and things picked from the multiverse because why not I just made him for fun 🎉

it's missing some info but those parts are mostly from Frisk's side of things since they're what caused everything to happen 🐺

Frisk basically got trapped in the underground for 7 years since the barrier wouldn't open due to one of the souls dying out and one day they selfishly yet desperately decided to go through with a genocide route for the first time, they didn't want to but they felt as if there was no other way

Sans met Frisk in judgment hall to stop them obvi and he tried to talk them out of continuing but Sans sucks at saying the right things so Frisk continued on anyways- Frisk struck first and got him on the face and Sans in return charged up his very op everything attack which is a one shot kill (can explain in another post if anyone's interested 🌹 it's a bit long but in short Frisk hopped into the core and some things bugged out bad, including stats of some monsters) and Frisk struck him again in the last second.

They died at the same time and due to the fact Sans shouldn't be able to use a move like that he ended up glitching out of the timeline into a battle sequence like out-code where the fight couldn't progress or end because Frisk wasn't there to do any actions. While Frisk continued into the judgment hall, except Sans wasn't there and things started to glitch out when they tried to go past the area. so they were forced to give up and go back to how it was before the genocide route. Just without Sans there

Sans got stuck in there for a few months until Error accidentally opened up the area during a silly fight with Ink- which Ink swiftly ditched Error to go check it out

Sans grew paranoid after being in there for so long so he started fighting Ink the second he saw movement thinking it was Frisk, but he was even more confused when he saw someone that looked exactly like him just in different clothes so he panicked and teleported outta there. And since he had dust all over him at the time Ink obvi wanted to know what happened, so he went to go look for him.

Ink soon found him and reassured him that he didn't need to worry about anything since everyone in his AU was alive, but advised him not to go back since Frisk might try another genocide run and succeed.

Sans accepted that and took his advice, Ink then explained the whole multiverse business, AU's and such, since Sans was pretty confused. He then asked Sans for his name since they didn't do a proper introduction, which Sans decided to call himself "A-Sans" because pretty much everyone that's usually out of their au is a sans.

A-Sans took Ink's advice the wrong way and forced himself to stop worrying about anything involving his AU since everyone was alive unlike those in the multiverse that were more unfortunate. which was hard to do since he missed everyone, felt guilty for leaving them behind all miserable and such so he took up drinking to help him stop worrying about it all.

Now he just hangs around in busy areas to nap all day by himself, people avoid talking to him because of the dust on his face and assume he killed someone.

-End 🔥

Personality wise A is very laid back and friendly, usually sleepy. He doesn't hold grudges and he forgives easily if it isn't too bad. He doesn't blame Frisk for what they did, he just wishes he was able to do something sooner to help them out before they got to that state.

And sorry if I repeat things or explain it all weird 🙏 it was 11am when I wrote this and I didn’t slept a wink but Imk if you have any questions!

#oc art #sans oc #artists on tumblr #undertale #undertale au #utmv fanart #my art #sans #utmv sans #utmv #utmv oc #A-Sans

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mxtxfanatic · 2 months ago

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Just wanna say for those of y’all who came into this fandom late: just a few years ago, speaking on Jiang Cheng with anything less than glowing praise used to bring so much harassment that “angry grape”-related tags had to be created to circumvent jc stans finding and subsequently dogpiling your posts. I’ve since seen this tagging convention appropriated by his stans to be an “affectionate” petname for his character. If you wrote a wangxian fic in which Jiang Cheng did not appear, your fics would get bombarded with stans flooding your comments with their own headcanons on why Jiang Cheng isn’t around but “this is how he’d react if he was” and “everyone loves him, they’re definitely thinking about him, rn” and “when is he supposed to show up, op???” If you read a wangxian fic and Jiang Cheng did appear, there was a 95% chance that you would have to slog through thousands of words of abuse apologia paired with every character (except maybe Lan Wangji, maybe) claiming that Wei Wuxian deserved to be abused and should just learn to handle it better because abuse is really love. It took me a year of reading purely (only, exclusively) wangxian fics to find a single fic that had both 1) canon Jiang Cheng and 2) did not twist the other characters into fanon iterations to justify canon Jiang Cheng’s abusive behavior. When more canon writers started appearing, their fics got flooded with negativity, claims that the fic wasn’t realistic because “jc isn’t like that,” and demands to change things. They started moderating their comment sections. Eventually, jc stan writers even stopped tagging Jiang Cheng in their fics despite writing him as a major character because people began to avoid reading fics if they knew from the tags that his character appeared.

The “canon jc” tag was created on tumblr because jc stans said that if we didn’t like being attacked for canon opinions we should “create our own tag.” It was not a tag that always existed. Nobody used it until my friends created it. And every few months after that, we’d get a new “flood the tag” campaign by jc stans pissed at the name until it died down… until twitter refugees arrived, bringing with them a new faction of jc stans. That jc appreciate week or whatever they call it that starts on Halloween? Created by jc stans in an attempt to flood out Wei Wuxian appreciation posts on his birthday by making sure that new Jiang Cheng content would dominate all the major tags on that day. I watched the creators brag about that.

One BIG fandom upset happened when a jc stan wrote a horribly mistagged rape and murder wangxian fic and had their friends promote it so that wangxian lovers would read the fic and be traumatized. They gloated about having "successfully baited people," then tried to delete their tweets admitting it when they got them in trouble. I was there for that, too, and I only dodged being triggered because I saved the fic to read for later instead of cracking it open immediately.

Some of y’all may see me around now, but I’ve been watching this fandom for much longer than I’ve been making posts, before even the friends and mutuals I know now even knew I existed (yes I was a lurker lol). I’ve seen the development of all this play out across tumblr, ao3, and twitter (despite my best efforts to avoid the twitter side, that’s how ubiquitous it was). That’s how inescapable it was. I saw so much shit go down that I already had a mile-wide blocklist before I made my first post, and even then, I still got hate commentary on some of my posts the moment I dipped my littlest toe into metas. I had anon off for like a year because I didn’t want to deal with any harassment, and the moment I turned it off, I started getting bait anons (though not as bad as the others I’ve seen, holy shit). When I started this blog, all I did was liveblog and reblog other people’s art and metas. I was so stressed entering this fandom because the shit I had seen off rip was absolutely disgusting. That’s why I have very intentional rules of engagement that I try to hold to for myself. I may never be the first to start the fight, but I damn sure will defend myself and my friends. I also will never run away from admitting my mistakes, but I will also never be bullied into treating someone’s personal fantasies as equal to the actual factual text.

This isn’t to say that fanon enjoyers don’t get harassment. Another big fandom scandal was that a popular fanfic writer obsessed with canon had been harassing other writers through a series of bot accounts into leaving the fandom. What a lot of people don’t bring up in their bid to paint canon enjoyers as particularly prone to “fandom bullying,” however, was that the “canon” they were obsessed with was tied almost exclusively to the canon wangxian’s top/bottom sexual dynamic. I’d read that person’s works before—enjoyed them, even, before the scandal happened. They wrote fanon into their fics in other ways. The fanon/canon divide isn’t the problem; entitlement to unanimous fandom praise and recognition is.

There’s nothing wrong with enjoying canon or fanon, nothing right or wrong or morally superior for either camp. But do me a favor: go into the main jiang cheng character tag right now, and count how often you see a post about Jiang Cheng that portrays him in a negative light. Not one that portrays him as an snarky asshole or a teacher’s pet or a helicopter parent or a crybaby who only wants to be loved, but one which shows him in all of his uncensored glory as a piece of shit antagonist. How often do you see fanart of Jiang Cheng that isn’t “best jiujiu” or “sad didi” or “badass sect leader”? How often do you see metas that don’t include some iteration of “everyone is just so mean about poor little jc who just didn’t have a choice in anything he ever did 😢”? Go to the main novel tag and do the same. Hell, go to the wangxian tag and see what you find while you’re at it. How many of those posts are viral compared to “look at jc with his dogs!” or “look, I made lxc and jc kiss!” Then tell me whether or not you believe that jc stans are being specifically targeted for some unique and undeserved persecution by the fandom at large.

#the north remembers a little too well #haven’t even touched on the wiki drama the suika twitter drama the apologies #this is a VERY rough clip of what has happened over so many years #if I’m wrong I’m wrong #but i know I’m not #canon jiang cheng

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charmedreincarnation · 1 year ago

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My sucess story

Trigger Warning: Abusive, homophobia, mentions of suicide

Hey there, Maya! I just had to take a moment and express my appreciation for all the fantastic posts you put out. I can now confirm, without a shadow of a doubt, that shifting is real, manifesting is real, and so is the void. Our desires and ambitions aren't in vain.

I've been part of the shifting community since 2020 when it exploded on TikTok. It might not matter much, but as a gay man, I rarely saw other guys in the community (though Reddit and Amino have a more diverse crowd). I've always felt more comfortable in women-centric spaces because they tend to be less judgmental.

I never saw success stories from guys, especially the kind I wanted to see - like waking up in a new world, not just manifesting money or a girlfriend (or boyfriend in my case >.<). I've always been spiritual and interested in witchcraft, voodoo, deities, and now manifesting and shifting. But it felt like nothing would let me shift.

Growing up with homophobic and physically abusive parents, struggling with poverty, depression, homelessness, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, and more, I began to feel like you could only manifest and shift if your life was okay. I didn't have the luxury of time or safety to practice methods, constantly dealing with noise, verbal abuse, or physical violence.

Then, I read this post

https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/comments/14v4lw3/how_to_shift_the_next_time_you_go_to_sleep/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=2&utm_term=1

It led me to your Tumblr because OP used some of your old posts and talked about the concept of the void. All searched lead to tumblr. A couple of months ago (2.5 ish) after one of the worst days of my life, I went to bed sobbing, trying to block out the noise around me, praying and crying for anything - death, shifting, a new identity...

Everything around me started to fade - it was as if I was being engulfed by a white, serene blanket of nothingness. It was completely silent, and I couldn't see or feel anything. The only thing that seemed to persist was my awareness.

Now, I've read about the void before, but mostly in the context of it being a black, empty space. So, I'm not entirely sure if what I experienced was indeed the void or something altogether different. The concept still baffles me a bit, but I'm learning and growing through these experiences.

Regardless of where I was, my heart was set on reaching my dr.I kept praying and hoping, to wake up in my DR.

I woke up in my Twitch streamer DR! I found myself in a completely unfamiliar yet perfect place. My room was equipped with a high-end PC, top-notch gaming gear, and quaint decor items. Milo, my dog, was there too. I was sharing a mansion in LA with my boyfriend and four other streamers. The house was beyond my imagination, and streaming here was a dream come true. As night fell, my friends and I explored the vibrant LA nightlife, creating lasting memories.

After a week, i can’t lie I almost forgot I had shifted here. Then, I set an intention to shift back into this reality but where I had moved out, lived with my best friend and their supportive parents, mastered shifting and manifesting, had my desired looks, and money came easily to me. And it worked!

Since then, I've been living my best boujee gay life, and I shift all the time. I even created a waiting room where I'm immortal and use it whenever I need a break. I wish I could offer better advice, but like everyone says, there isn't a key to shifting. It's different for everyone. But you can and will shift. You can manifest your dream life. You can and deserve to be happy

Oh my god, I'm so happy for you, love 💕💕. I also completely related to what you felt. I know it can seem like your circumstances are holding you back, but believe me when I say this - that couldn't be further from the truth.

It's that same resilience, and your ability to persist despite the odds, that paved the way to your dream life. There’s nothing, I mean nothing that can stop you. Not wavering, crying, or doubt. Nothing. If you want it, it’s yours.

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #void state #reality shifting #shiftblr #void success

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whatifitis · 9 days ago

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♡ Naurrr Oscahhh - OP 81 ♡

Summary: can oscar properly wipe his own ass? that is the question ☝️

Author's Note: I couldn't tell you what possessed me to write this... also this is the worst thing i've written probably so sorry

WC: 988 + 1 instagram post at the end

CW: a bit of foul language, shit

It’s a bright, early beautiful morning in your apartment that you share with your boyfriend, Oscar. Today's the day! The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, your dog is sleeping, the bed sheet has shit stains, and today is gonna be a gre-

“The bed has shit stains?!” you scream, leaping out of bed to further inspect your beautiful, white, crisp bed sheets.

What the fuck? How did my sheets get shit stains?!

There’s only one person who could’ve done this… Oscar.

The two of you hadn’t shared a space together for too long, only having just moved in together about a month ago, so you were still learning about each other's living habits. Like how Oscar steals all the hangers from your side of the wardrobe, or how he leaves his PlayStation games all over the coffee table. It honestly drives you mad, making you want to rip all your hair out.

But this, this was a whole other fucking level. This is where you draw the line. Shit stains, on your favorite bed sheets.

23 years old and he still doesn’t know how to wipe his own ass? Nah, mate. How can you love a man who can’t wipe? Imagine raising kids with this guy. There would be shit stains everywhere!

You check the time and remember Oscar had a few meetings today so he wouldn’t be home for a few more hours. You knew you had to get to work on disinfecting the bed, well maybe everything, immediately. He left a skid mark on the bed, god knows what else he’s done.

You prepare for this treacherous job, putting on 3 layers of gloves and grabbing some soap and water. You stand over the bed, spraying a very generous amount of water and soap on the stain, contemplating your life choices. You managed to bag the hottest fucker alive… but he leaves skid marks around.

After scrubbing the soap into the sheets with a sponge, you threw the sheets into the wash and threw your gloves and sponge into the trash. As soon as the lid to the trash closed, you shivered and stood as your skin erupted with goosebumps.

Gross.

Late into the afternoon, Oscar had arrived home. The unlocking of the door informed you of Oscar’s arrival, allowing you to get into position, standing with your arms crossed over your chest, positioned in front of the door.

As soon as Oscar opened the door and his eyes met your figure, he raised his eyebrows. Before saying a word, he walks in, closes the door and sets his things on the counter before asking, “What’s up?”

“What’s up? That’s all you have to say?”

“Um, yeah?” Oscar responds.

What the fuck?

With a scoff, you prepare to let it out, “Oscar Jack Piastri”.

“Oh shit, full name. It’s serious.” you watch as he stands up straighter, his eyebrows slightly furrowing.

“You left skid marks on the bed. My bed sheets. My beautiful, soft, white sheets! How could you? I thought you knew how to wipe your ass, otherwise I don’t think I would’ve agreed to dating you, let alone moving in!” you say, throwing your hands in the air out of frustration “God fucking knows if the stain will come off. Do you know how much those sheets cost? You’re paying for another set if these are fucked up forever cause of your disgusting ass.”

“Um, love. I didn’t leave skid marks on the bed. I think I’d know if I did… and I didn’t.” he blinks.

“Well if you didn’t, then who did. The fucking ghost that you claimed left the fridge door open all night?” you question, raising an eyebrow at him.

Oscar just stands there unresponsive, just shifting his eyes from watching you to watching what is happening behind you on the floor.

You turn around to be met with a sight for sore eyes. Yours and Oscar’s dog is currently dragging his ass across your new, and expensive, rug, leaving a very dark stain behind him as he scoots across the floor.

Oscar comes to stand next to you, watching as your dog looks up at the two of you as if he hasn’t just ruined yet another one of your favorite pieces of decor in your apartment. You hear him chewing so you turn your head to look at him, watching as he’s eating a chocolate bar.

“Where’d you get that?” you ask.

“The fridge.”

“The fridge behind us? With the door left wide open?”

Both of you turn to look back at the fridge, which indeed is wide open.

“Yup” he says as you both turn back to look at the dog.

You two stand there for a moment in silence before Oscar silently laughs, “You really thought it was me? And not the dog? That you know has had some digestion issues recently?”

“Yeah.” you stare blankly at your dog.

“I’ve met bread smarter than you.”

“I’ve met guys with bigger dicks than you.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“No, I haven't,” you sigh in resignation.

-=+=-

Liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 278,443 others

y/n_l/n guess who left skid marks on mom’s bed sheets AND RUG, and proceeded to blame dad 😍

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landnorris guess who’s no longer invited to my flat after he pissed right by my feet 😍

↪ oscarpiastri he said he was sorry 😔

↪ landonorris he didn’t look so sorry when he did it again when i was trying to flirt with a girl 🧍

↪ oscarpiastri it’s not like you were gonna pull her so

↪ landonorris WHAT THE FAWK MATE?!?

User34 your honor, he’s innocent

User52 what the fuck is wrong with your dog?!

↪ y/n_l/n WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH HIM

↪ User56 why does he look like he’s gonna ask me for feet pics… ↪ y/n_l/n blocked 🖐️

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri x yn #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fic #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic

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thunderfrommyheart · 9 months ago

Text

breaking down the misinformation in @afronerdism post about me.

Debunked by Stuart Semple himself.

I’ve taken the time to do this because nobody wants mis-information bouncing around the internet.

The key thing to know - in the artworld rich people have access to processes and companies that most artists don’t. That’s how they get to create giant beans which cost $20million. At the top the rich get richer, and at the bottom artists struggle to make their mark with what they’ve got.

Vantablack is an example of a group of rich, entitled people getting together to pat themselves on the back, whilst the rest of the world watched horrified at the tone-deafness of the whole thing.

it's also worth noting whilst OP is clearly educated and understands politics they are not in any way an expert in the artworld, art discourse. I however have been in the artworld for 25 years, have written for the guardian, art of england and vogue. I have presented art programs for the BBC and have a properly published book on art history - it's out in June called 'Make Art or Die Trying'. I have studied art and art history and spoken at Oxford University, The ICA, Denver Art Msueum, Dublin Art Museum and at Frieze. I have lectured at the Royal College of Art in London. I have curated over 20 contemporary art exhibitions internationally, I have directed two galleries. I am by definition an expert.

MY BREAKDOWN: OP is @afronerdism - I've gone below them point by point

A: What Vantablack is not: a pigment. A paint. Vantablack is not something that you were supposed to use to paint with.

SS: CORRECT - However nor is glass, chrome, powder coating, sandblasting, booze casting, tar, concrete or steel yet they are used by artists everyday.

Whether the material/process is a paint or pigment or not doesn’t matter.

A: Who creates and distributes Vantablack: an engineering company named Surrey NanoSystems.

SS: True. And many artists work with engineering companies every day, notable examples are Jeff Koons and Damien Hirst. Lots of artists collaborate with industry to get their work made, that is what fabrication is. You go to Surrey NanoSystems - not to buy paint but for them to coat your work in Vantablack.

A: Who does not do those things: an art house. A distribution company. Any kind of company that creates and distributes pigments on a massive, artistic scale.

SS: Which is totally true and fine. However they do coat things in Vantablack for a series of clients in many different industries including fashion designers, jewelers, brands, car companies, and watch companies. They will coat anything for anyone who has the money unless they are an artist. They only accept work from Anish Kapoor as he has an exclusive license with them for art.

A: Who was Vantablack made for: Vanta Black was made by aerospace engineers for aerospace engineers, looking for something to coat the insides of massive NASA telescopes.

SS: Initially, but quickly was used by a lot of other industries including architects, fashion designers, bands, brands, car companies and even a deodorant.

They are able to make it in quantities large enough to coat whole buildings as we saw when architect Asif Khan used it to coat a whole pavilion during the Pyeongchang Winter Olympic Games.

(If had told Surrey nanoSytems he was an artist - not an architect, this would never have happened)

A: Who it was not made for: artists.

SS: Except the one with the license. (Anish Kapoor)

———————————-——————————————

A: Hopefully already just by understanding what Vantablack is, what it was made for, and who it’s made by you and other people are beginning to see what the problem is with Stuart simples narrative around Vanta black.

SS: It’s Semple not simple.

SS: The narrative was not created by Semple as for a few months before he shared his pink the world media was criticizing Kapoor for his Monopoly with major articles in the Guardian, Daily Mail, and BBC news. Each featured reactions from a broad spectrum of artists who spoke about the unnecessary license and the elitism in the artworld.

A: But you may be wondering if Vanta black is a highly toxic unstable substance made out of carbon nano tubes by aerospace engineers for aerospace engineers, working in space, then how did we get here? well, Vanta, black 2.0, if you will was created in such a way that it could be sprayed onto substances in a certain way meaning that theoretically it could be used artistically.

SS: Yes VBX2 can be sprayed, and Surrey Nanosystems have training days where they teach in-house teams how to do that. The VBX2, however, arrived quite late in the story and Kapoor’s rights started with the first version.

A: Surround nanosystems held an exhibition where they displayed Vanta black and when artist saw this, they were inundated with calls from artist, wanting to use it in their work.

SS:

Surrey nano systems (not surround)

They actually debut it at an airshow in England, it was all over the world media, many artists saw it. They then went on a massive PR mission and the material was seen on CNN etc.

Kapoor became aware of it and approached them to see if he could use it in his work.

Together they struck up an exclusive deal which would mean if any artist asked them to coat a piece of work with the stuff they would be turned away.

That deal was something Surrey and Kapoor were initially proud of. They couldn’t see the inherent elitism in the exclusivity so they went on another PR pr to tell he world Kapoor was signed up to use it.

It was then the artists of the world really became aware of it, and sure enough, when any of them wrote to Surrey - even really huge ones with plenty of money, they were turned away. These artists including Christian Furr and Ron Arad, amongst others were all featured across the media. =

A: But as we’ve already established surrey nanosystems is not a distribution company. They’re an engineering company. And they made the decision that they could only work with one artist, because they simply did not have the physical ability to produce Vantablack at a scale that allowed them to work with more than one person.

SS: They did say that, but a lot later. They were always a fabrication / engineering place and there was never an idea that they would distribute the material. That’s not the problem any artists ever had with it, they all fully understood what the material was. The issue was that even if the artist had the money and could ship their work to Surrey, they would not coat the object with it, but they would serve other industries. This is seen as deeply prejudicial towards artists.

A: (To this day, vanta Black has to be distributed by a specialized robotic arm that creates it in painfully small amounts in an enclosed box that can then be given to someone in a lab. )

SS: This is untrue - the arm is used to spray the objects that Surrey have agreed to coat.

It does not make the material. The material is made by growing carbon nano tubes on a surface.

And the spray version contains nano particles. The robot arm is used for precision when coating.

You often see a robot arm spray cars for example. The arm is used like this.

A: Enter Anish Kapoor: Anish Kapoor, at this time was already a world, renowned artist, and the creator of many public facing pieces, such as cloud gate, a.k.a. the Chicago Bean. His entire life‘s work was dedicated to how light is refracted and interplays with the void, making him not only the perfect person to be chosen because of prestige but also because his life‘s work spoke to the engineers who created Vanta black.

SS: Whist as an artist he has dealt with reflection and the void at length, it’s a stretch to claim his entire life’s work is dedicated to it.

SS: It is true that as a figurehead for Vantablack he is a good choice, he’s very rich, extremely famous, he’s a Sir (i.e knighted by the queen and a turner prize winner). Plus he makes work that would look good in Vantablack.

SS: None of this means that he needed exclusivity to do it, the company could simply have collaborated with him and if any other artist asked to have something coated, they could have easily said they were too busy or didn’t have enough of the material.

SS: The issue is the way they couldn’t see the prejudice, elitism and lack of access in the exclusivity.

A: Now this should’ve been seen as an incredible accomplishment and honor for this Indian artist to be chosen as the soul licensor of Vantablack as this company was only able to choose one person and people were really excited about this for him and that’s where the story ends, right? Right? Right?

SS: It’s unclear why his race matters. He is one of the richest, most well known, most famous artists in the world. The fact he has exclusive access to a material/process like this is not a reason for people to be excited for him, people are free to be excited or not. This is purely your opinion not a fact.

A: Enter Stuart Semple: Stuart simple was a 25-year-old man in the UK living with his mother when she came into his room and told him about Vantablack.

SS: Stuart was born in 1980, which would make him 36 at the time.

SS: He was not living with his mother, in fact he was living in London with his own family.

SS: His mother did not come into his room however on a phone call she spoke to him about an article she had read in the guardian about how artists were upset by Kapoor having Vantablack.

SS: Stuart was (and is) a well-known contemporary artist, very embedded int hat world. He has had over 20 solo exhibitions dedicated to his work all over the world and his pieces are in major collections and museums. He’s not in the league of Kapoor but in the artworld is well known as an artist.

A: As an artist himself, Stewart simple wanted to try Vanta Black, and was told by the company that he could not.

SS: This is untrue - Stuart did not want to use the colour, nor did he approach the company.

A: It was then that he discovered the only person on earth licensed to use Vantablack was Anish Kapoor.

SS: This is untrue, he was aware of this when his mother told him what she had read in the newspaper.

A: Please keep in mind that Vantablack is not a paint, and it is so difficult to work with that Anish Kapoor has only ever produced one singular piece of art with Vantablack.

SS: This is untrue. Tens of thousands of items have now been coated in VantaBlack, from soda cans to watches. Initially, Kapoor used his rights to create a series of limited edition wrist watches that sold for $100,000 each, and then went on to create a whole series of large sculptures that were initially shown at a huge palazzo in Venice that Kapoor bought, during the Venice Biennale, and then at an exhibition at the Lisson in NYC where there works were for sale with an average price of $500,000USD.

A: So like a child who has just been told by their mom that they can’t use something, Stewart simple decided to throw a hissy fit.

SS: It’s Stuart Semple (not stewart simple) - and there is no evidence of any kind of Hissy Fit. However he did create a piece of internet performance art, where he put a jar of pinkest pink paint on the internet, humorously, and asked anyone who bought the paint to sign an agreement that they ‘weren’t Anish Kapoor and Associate of Kapoor and that to the best of their knowledge information and belief, the material would not make its way into the hands of Anish Kapoor’. Semple has always explained it was a tongue-in-cheek piece of performance art, and that he was never expecting anyone would actually buy any pink. The best source for this is an article in Wired in which the journalist concludes with the piece being a powerful piece of online performance art. Bearing in mind Semple is an artist who works with performance, that is extremely likely.

A: He created a pink pigment that he conditionally said everyone could use except Anish Kapoor and then launch this pigment with the hashtag #ShareTheBlack.

SS: He created the pink pigment in 2010 - and has made his own paints to use in his own work since he was a child. It was not made in response to Kapoor. However he did not make them public they were for his own use, and the Kapoor situation made him question his own exclusivity in keeping the materials he was making for himself. He decided to share his pink as a gesture and a piece of art in it's own right.

A: This caught the attention of the news media, and when asked about this situation, that was previously relatively unheard of, Stuart simple,

SS: Neither Stuart nor the Vantablack situation were unheard of. The media was already reporting on the controversy around vantablack long before Stuart put the pink up. Stuart was also well known which is why the media wanted to talk to him about it.

When GQ came to do a 5 page feature on him they were clear it was because he was an established and well-known artist in his own right.

He had already been hosting art shows for the BBC, had written for the guardian and Huffington post and had collaborated with major musicians.

A: went onto describe Anish Kapoor as this tyrannical elitist who “banned“ the use of Vantablack to keep other artists from using it.

SS: There’s no evidence that Semple said that, however, he was critical of the exclusive license and did feel the story opened up a well-needed discussion about access to art and the trend in which those with the money could afford to have works fabricated when others couldn’t. He is at heart an egalitarian and has made free art studios, his Designs for humanity charity, his creative therapies fund at Mind (a mental health charity) etc.. and a major free art gallery in his hometown that shows some of the biggest living artists. So Semple’s opinion is allowed, to him Kapoor epitomizes an elitism that is dominated by the super-rich, after all, Kapoor is getting close to being a billionaire.

A: But hopefully you can already see how that is Literally not true. Anish Kapoor does not make Vanta black. Anish Kapoor cannot sell Vanta black. Anish Kapoor cannot give you permission to use Vanta black. And Vanta black is not even a paint.

SS: He does not make it, but he does hold the exclusive right to use it in art.

SS: No other material or process has been exclusively licensed by one artist in the history of the world.

SS: Jeff Koons does not make his own giant steel sculptures, a factory does. Jeff can’t book your work into the factory, and steel is not a paint either. He doesn't have an exclusive agreement with the steel fabricators. If they aren't too busy with Jeff, and you've got the cash, they'll make something for you too. This is standard with art fabrication.

SS: I didn't physically make the giant steel and foam smiley sculpture of mine for the city of Denver, fabricators helped with that, and engineers. They work with several artists.

SS: This makes no sense given it is understood vantablack is a material and a process of application.

SS: However Kapoor could surrender his exclusive right and Surrey would then be able to take bookings from artists.

A: meanwhile Stuart has launched an entire very lucrative career around slandering and smearing Anish Kapoor

SS: Untrue, Semple had a very successful career and his day job is as a contemporary artist. Actually speaking up about elitism in the artworld is a risky move for someone who relies on that artworld to pay his bills.

A: when Anish Kapoor literally never did anything but be qualified enough to be the one person chosen by a company that is literally only able to work with one person at a time.

SS: He did do something, he signed an exclusive agreement and he felt he was entirely justified in doing so. He also went out in the media and with surrey nono systems and gloated about it.

SS: They can’t only work with one person at a time, we have seen whole buildings covered in vantback, jewellery, cars and soda cans and many sculptures by Kapoor. Surrey have collaborated with thousands of brands, designers, architects and companies.

A: The fact remains Stewart simple, very intentionally allows this narrative to continue because it makes him money.

SS: It is unclear how it makes him money as the pink was sold for $3 which was what it cost to make, and his website which researches and distributes cutting edge materials is a non profit that collaborates with artists. They even did a crowd funder to make Black 3.0 - a super black acrylic that any artist can use. It's also unclear how he is perpetuating this narrative, when he's clearly moved on to other projects many years ago and rarely mentions it. In Semple's world it's a very small thing.

A: He has made a ton of money off of slandering Anish Kapoor as if Anish Kapoor is the reason he can’t use Vanta black when the reason he can’t use Vanta black is because no one can use Vanta black, and the only person who might be able to use it is Anish Kapoor and that is not Anish Kapoor‘s fault.

SS: There’s no evidence at all that he’s slandered Kapoor. Kapoor being extremely wealthy, and the level of media that covered the story back in 2016 would never have allowed it. It would have been a legal nightmare. All the publications who write about the story GQ, BBC, The Guardian, Wired, have journalistic laws and it would not have happened.

SS: There’s no evidence that Semple has made a ton of money.

A: It is not lost on me that there are racial connotations to the story as well. There are actual companies and artists in the world who have trademarks around certain colors that they do not allow other people to use in public showcases.

SS: There are colour marks or if you like 'trademarked colours'. The public showcases point doesn't make sense in this context - colours are protected in classes i.e certain uses on Serbian products are prohibited. EG - Tiffany blue cannot be used on jewellery boxes.

A: But we really as a community allowed this white man to smear and slander an Indian artist,

SS: Again it’s unclear what the ethnicity of the artists has to do with the core issue.

SS: It’s a little bit of a leap given Semple has also liberated Klein Blue (made by a white French man), Barbie Pink (owned by Mattel a corporation), and created the Brightest White.

A: based entirely off of misinformation, and to this day people jump on the Internet, saying fuck Anish Kapoor because of it.

SS: Kapoor secured the rights to the blackest material ever made. Everyone else who can afford to, can use it, unless they identify as an artist.

SS: Many people feel like that is wrong.

A: Now, Anish Kapoor is not some struggling person. He is probably a multibajillionaire

SS: He’s worth about 800 million according to Forbes, he’s within the top 5 most wealthy living artists.

A: And doesn’t necessarily need our sympathy. But I think the story of Vantablack is a really good case study of how misinformation spreads, and how people never bother to question the framework of a story.

SS: In my opinion, your post is misinformation, that has been spread unquestioningly.

#stuartsemple #anish kapoor #stuart semple

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peachesofteal · 1 year ago

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Hey Peach!!

I just read the ultimate angst post you made and I'm literally not ok but I absolutely love your writing. You write angst so so well it's astonishing and I strive to write at your level one day.

But I can't get all these possible scenarios out of my head about that au so I thought I might share them with you.

So I'm thinking Darling is going to the motions of grief and anger as the boys leave and so decides to ignore them completely. Like she goes ghost mode on them. They text her their apologies on the day their leaving and for obvious reasons can't keep in touch after that.

Darling is a complete mess for the first couple of months after their departure. Living in that apartment alone would become too much for her. Every nook every coner holding precious memories of their times together. She would cry looking at the knick knacks they'd left behind accidentally. Fantasizing about what could have been if she had told them, If they hadn't decided to break up on the spot without consulting her, if they had communicated better. But it's too late now, their gone and she can't even let them know she's pregnant, not that she wants to anymore after being dumped like that.

She decides eventually to pull herself together for herself and her growing child. An apartment move was very necessary for her mental well-being so she decides to move somewhere her child can have a fulfilling upbringing. A fresh start somewhere where she isn't consumed by their memories. Somewhere that doesn't remind her of them when she's walking through the park where she would pick wild flowers together with Johnny to put in pretty vases on the dinning table or going to their favourite grocery store and shops looking for ingredients to try new recipes together which might not always turn out great. Or when the local pub owners ask where her pretty men are when their away on ops. Those little things would chip away at her if she had to think about them constantly.

So she moves and begins her difficult and lonely journey as a single parent but still trying to enjoy all her first milestone of her pregnancy. She goes to these wellness classes for expecting mothers where she has to watch couples enjoying their pregnancy together while she sits there all alone. It's difficult to attend these check-ups and classes but she manages for the sake of her child. She might have a little gender reveal by herself or with some friends but in my head darling might go to a bakery with the little slip of paper the maternity nurse had given her and asks them if they could make a cupcake with the adjacent colour filling on the inside so she can celebrate at home, probably with some nice food and her favourite movie. Deciding the name of the child, painting and decorating a nursery, going clothes shopping she wishes she had them there with her as much as she doesn't want to admit missing them, she also might cry alot along her journey but she is constantly learning as she goes along to give her child the best possible life she can provide. But as her mental health fluctuates she finds it increasingly difficult to take care of herself as she nears the due date to give birth.

All this is happening while the boys are on their very difficult and taxing mission. Trying their best to stay alive for each other while dealing with the guilt of hurting darling the way they did . They try to rationalize their decision to break up with her to dissipate their growing guilt but to no avail. They're constantly thinking about her, wondering how she's faring, if she's eating well, if she's recovering from the hurt they caused. They hope to come back alive to talk to explain their reasoning for their decision and try to make it up to her again. Not realising the darling they had left behind was long gone by the time they would get back.

Sorry for going off on a tangent I hope you enjoy my little take on your au. The real angsty parts comes when they get back a realize she's gone for good. Thanks again for blessing us with your writing 💗

I am throwing writing tools at you! Books! Notebooks! Pens! Paper! Laptops! Disco baby au 18+ Mature themes.

I love all of this, but one thing that really sticks with me is the image of Darling, sitting at the kitchen table, alone with a cupcake. You don't have a party, don't have friends over, you just go to the bakery and get this one, singular cupcake, made for yourself.

And then, when you finally get home, after a way too long day at work, your body sore and back tired, you sit down in front of it.

You always thought, that if you were to have a baby, this is something you'd do with your partners, if you even chose to do it at all. You always envisioned not finding out, leaving it for a surprise when the time comes, but this... none of it feels right. None of it feels like it should, and you think that means you shouldn't wait. You should get to know, right now, since there's no one else to share it with, no one else who even cares.

So, when you finally cut into it, and finally see that stupid color on the inside (because also, screw this whole concept to begin with) you don't feel joy. Or excitement. You feel crippling sadness, and you rest your head on the table as you start to cry, cradling your belly with a hand when the baby starts to move.

This was supposed to be good. We were supposed to be happy. You can't not think about the way Johnny would whoop and cause such a ruckus at the news, the way his eyes would light up and how he would pull you in for a devastating kiss. You think about Simon, and the way his eyes would grow wet, even though he swore he wasn't crying, how he would hold you and tell you how happy he is, how much he loves all three of you now. You, Johnny, and little baby girl.

You can almost see them, in the flat, almost hear them, and if you close you eyes, you can picture them sitting on either side of you, holding your hand, kissing your skin slowly. Making you feel loved. Making you feel safe.

But they're not there. You're alone. You, and little baby girl, doing it on your own.

#peaches asks #peaches writes #disco baby au #ghost x soap x reader

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softxsuki · 1 year ago

Note

💐Oh my! Someone's just confessed to you!! Who is this mysterious person and what do you say??💐

How Zoro Confesses

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Genre: Fluff

Post-Type: headcanons

Word Count: 710

Summary: In which Zoro "confesses" to you

[A/N: Is this an actual request? No, it isn't. Have I been craving to finally write for one piece? Yes, yes I have. So here it is. My official debut with my first writing for OP. AND I AM TAKING OP REQUESTS SO SEND THEM ALL MY WAY. At the moment I write for Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Shanks, and Law. As I continue to watch, I'l add more characters (if any stand out to me and inspire me to write) I'll update that on my 'who I write for' page linked on my navigation page. SO YES PLEASE SEND ME ALL YOUR OP REQUESTS I WANT TO WRITE FOR THEM MORE FREQUENTLY PLS. ]

Zoro:

Confession? Yeah you're not getting a direct confession from this guy--not happening

So how can you tell that this green-haired looker has a thing for you?

Lets just say his subtle acts over time definitely hint to it

It starts with small glances

His eyes seem to linger on you a little longer than necessary

When he walks into the kitchen for a meal with the crew, he finds himself looking for you first

Though he doesn't think much of it at first, and neither do you

You were close to Zoro as he was usually chill and you felt comfortable in his presence--though you couldn't deny the way your heart beat a little faster whenever he chose to sit next to you

Or the way you held your breath a little when he leaned slightly over you at the dining table to grab some food, his chest brushing against your face lightly

Zoro gets annoyed at himself when his ears get red whenever you playfully tease him

He hates the way his stomach knots up when he see's you too close to any of the guys on the crew, especially Sanji since he knows how bold the cook is with you

Whenever he says something you might find funny, he looks in your direction to see if he got a laugh out of you

These subtleties get a little more obvious and direct as even more time passes

When you arrive at a new island and the crew decide to split up to cover more ground, he volunteers to go with you, not giving curly-brows a chance to get his hands on you

He typically likes to be alone, but he can't help but enjoy your presence, so you find yourself having many naps with him on the Sunny

Your naps get cozier the more frequently they happen

They start with the two of you sat-up beside each other, and eventually his head or your head fall over onto the others shoulder

But eventually one of you uses the others lap as a pillow and sometimes Zoro can't help his curious fingers as they traverse the tresses of your hair, flinching away whenever you stir in your sleep

After a new months, you do everything together, from training, to washing dishes, napping, shopping, etc

It gets to the point where the crew always expect you to be together

So no, a verbal confession never does happen, you kinda naturally end up together

Perhaps Zoro gets fed up with Sanji one day and snatches you away from him with his ears flaring red and he yells profanities at the cook for always touching you and being close to you for no reason

Or it become obvious that you're a thing when you both glare at anyone who gets too close to the other for comfort

Yet you whenever you're close to each other it feels...right

Your hands brush each other as you walk side by side

Your thighs touch as you sit next to each other at dinner

God-forbid someone takes his self-proclaimed assigned seat beside you, he'd throw a fit

It isn't until one night at one of the many celebrations you all had that it becomes crystal clear how you both feel about each other

Zoro was drinking, like usual and was a little buzzed, but not completely drunk

He was watching you like usual as he drank, naturally protective of you and wanting to make sure no one took advantage of you

His heart beats a little faster as you approach him, a little buzzed yourself

You take the seat beside him and turn in his direction, but he's already looking at you

Your bodies seem to gravitate to one another and he can't help but close the remaining space between you as his lips crash onto yours

Without even thinking, your hands wrap around his neck and his own hands slither their way around your waist

He pulls aways flustered and flushed as usual, but downs another drink and you do that same as a small smile graces your lips

From that day forwards, kisses became more frequent between you whenever you were alone

But still, not a word was ever really said, it kinda just...happened :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 6/13/2023

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univac1219 · 4 months ago

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Does your 1219 have a nickname?

Also, I was wondering if you have any fun stories surrounding it! Strange quirks it has or anything like that.

I'd love to see more photos if you're allowed to post them!

Thanks for the question! These are my favorite part about my blog by far.

Not exactly, the UNIVAC 1219 doesn’t have a nickname. I did realize recently that I should specify the pronunciation (Twelve-Nineteen), but it doesn’t have any nicknames. Apart from ‘the 1219’, it’s also regularly referred to as the CPU or just ‘the computer’.

Fun stories or weird quirks? Boy, I could fill a book with this machine’s weird quirks (or as we say, intermittent issues), but I’ll try to blitz through the most common ones:

Sometimes the computer will stop running and enter a WAIT mode. No reason, it just needs a break. We can’t fix it, it just has to decide to go back into operating mode.

The computer will often start attempting to communicate on IO channel 13. We’re not telling it to talk to anything, it just decides to try to.

One of our teletypes (the Kleinshmidt) stamps ink splotches into the paper rather than characters most of the time. However, this weekend it worked for the first time in 10 months! We didn’t change anything, it just had an extra cup of coffee or something.

The Digital Data Recorder, or the tape drive, has the most gremlins out of any of our units. The top handler works fairly well, but the bottom handler won’t properly read data, write data, move the tape forward, initialize the tape, or any number of other issues.

There’s more but hopefully this satisfies your curiosity.

Fun stories? Well, I can’t name any specific ones, but I can say it’s a very endearing machine. It’s the very last of its kind and being one of three individuals in the world responsible for it makes every issue that more frustrating. There is no real forum for it, the subject matter experts sit next to me and are often just as exasperated as I am.

But the unique nature of this situation make every successful diagnostic test that much sweeter. Every new addition (5.25” floppy drive via serial) that much cooler. I have an IBM PC-XT clone at home, but I thank my lucky stars every day that this big iron is what I get to specialize in.

As for more photos, I have none that are as grandiose as you would probably expect. I do have my working photos though. I took all my photos when I first started working on it and now I am more dedicated to fixes than photo-ops.

This is a photo of our finicky Kleinshmidt teletype. Still has blotches but it actually printed!

This is the back of the bottom handler. Pictured is the vacuum pump in the bottom left (so sudden stops just yank magnetic tape slack rather than ripping tape). The big cylinder in the center is a motor for running the magnetic tape handler itself. The big black ‘hose’ of wires coming out of the steel plate contains all the cables that come right off the handler’s head for reading and writing data!

This is the forward pinch roller of the bottom handler. It was replaced after this photo was taken as you can see the rubber has deteriorated in the 55 years this machine has been operating.

As for being allowed to post photos, that’s not an issue. The last 1219 was decommissioned in 2014 and now you can find all of its documentation online at http://www.bitsavers.org/pdf/univac/military/1219/

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pelova4president · 1 year ago

Text

That stupid smile of hers I

Esmee Brugts x nedwnt!R

II of that stupid smile of hers

summary~ In which y/n gets to go to the World Cup and falls in love with the girl with that stupid not so stupid smile.

I play for Arsenal but have been benched for most of the season. So when I got called up for national duty I was surprised, to say the least. But after all that happiness and surprise came the nervousness. How could I, y/n y/l/n who turned 18, just weeks ago get a call up for the Oranje Leeuwinnen. Sure, I’ve been the topscorer for the u23’s euros and Vivianne Miedema has torn her ACL, I’ve seen her stuggle, cry and achieve big milestones along the way. But she wasn’t going to make the world cup and everyone knew it.

The Netherlands needed another top scorer, they needed y/n. And that’s exactly what her coach, Andries Jonker told her.

A few days later the list of names that would go to the world cup was posted on the Oranje Leeuwinnen socials.

(pretend that you’re Vivianne Miedema)

y/n_y/ln, OranjeLeeuwinnen, AWF

liked by victoriapelova and 12.598 others

y/n y/l/n has been called up for her national team and will attend the world cup.

comments

leahwilliamsonn congrats, you deserve it!! ❤️

viviannemiedema trots op je 🥰

victoriapelova 😍😍

esmeebrugtsfan1 can’t wait to see her play

y/nballer69 so well deserved 🪄⚽️

I know a few of the girls. Well okay, I know all of them but did they know me?

I’ve played with Vicky in England, both of us playing for Arsenal and befriending almost immediately. Viv was the first one to welcome and introduce me to the whole Arsenal squad. Her and Beth took me in, just like they did with Vic and that’s just how I found myself playing fifa with Vic till morning. It was safe to say that I liked her company.

I knew a few of the other dutch girls playing in England, chatting with them when they played against us. Viv and Vic told me stories about camp life and the Olympics, about how vic won almost every table tennis game and was annoyingly good in chess, about Daan and her pranks and about Esmee Brugts, the annoyingly good footballer.

I’ve watched her, making the goal that got us to the world cup. I’ve watched her play for PSV back in The Netherlands. The goals she made, the way she just plays past everyone like it’s nothing, god it’s annoying. How could you be that good and so humble. And those stupid smiles she gives the camera after she scores, it’s so annoyingly cute.

So yeah, I had asked Vic and Viv about Esmee and they somehow got suspicious of how much I wanted to know about her. “Oh, ik ben gewoon geïnteresseerd. Ik moet iedereen toch een beetje kennen voordat we twee maanden in Australië zitten” (Oh, i’m just interested. I have to know everyone a bit before we go to Australia for two months) Viv and Vic just looked at each other and broke out into laughter.

Vic and I went to Zeist, to camp. It wasn’t that long of a flight but it felt like hours. Vic could feel the nervousness radiate off of me and put her hand on my leg that was tapping away annoyingly. “Oh mijn god y/n! Wat is er aan de hand man?” (Oh my god y/n! What’s going on mate?) Vic asked me. I just waved away the question and stared out of the window since I kind of sabotaged Vic to get the window seat.

We were greeted by someone from the staff that drove us to our camp. And just like every national teams socials does, the players got photographed at their arrival.

(pretend that you’re Jill Roord)

OranjeLeeuwinnen

liked by viviannemiedema and 9.484 others

one arrival you’ve all been waiting for 🥁

comments

lynnwilms_ the cold never bothered me anyway 🎶❄️

brugtsfan33 can’t wait to see the y/l/n and brugts linkup

↳ y/l/nballer5 me neither, this world cup’s gonna be amazing

Walking into the big hall, Vic behind me, I was starstruck. Everyone was already there, Roord, Van de Donk, Martens and even Brugts.

Vic pushed me and whispered in my ear “Kom op, je hebt nog twee maanden de tijd om naar dr te staren” (Come on, you have the next two months to stare at her) I started to get red and looked around checking if anyone heard us. Seeing this, Vic just started to laugh even harder. I pushed her and walked over to Kerstin who I knew from matches against City.

Kerstin was kind enough to introduce me to everyone. Shanice who played at Liverpool came launching at me, ready to pick me up. “Klein monster, je bent er!” (Little monster, you’re here!) she yelled and picked me up while hugging me tightly. I congratulated her with the announcement of her girlfriend’s pregnancy and went on to greet everyone.

And to my surprise, there’s still was someone I hadn’t met yet. Esmee Brugts. Before I could even walk towards her Andries started to speak.

He thanked everyone for coming, got into his very serious speech and ended with who would room with who. “… Vic en Merel, Jill en Shanice en last but not least y/n en Esmee” (… Vic and Merel, Jill and Shanice and last but not least, y/n and Esmee).

I was hoping to be roomed with Vic, having spend the last few months with her in Viv and Beth’s house. That was too much to ask apparently, but Esmee, now the universe is just trying to get back at me.

I awkwardly looked up in search for Esmee. When i found her she was staring at me already. She gave me one of those dumb smiles she gives the cameras. I gave her a tight smile back before i turned to Vic who was sitting next to me. “Dit lijkt wel een realityshow, veel succes sukkeltje” (This is almost a realityshow, good luck loser) and with that she walked away to grab her suitcase and went settle in with her roomie.

When i saw Esmee talking to Lieke i saw my chance and went to our room. It was like all the other rooms i’ve stayed in for national duty but definitely bigger. I wanted to take a look at the bathroom which was way bigger than I expected. The rainshower being the best part of it all.

Walking back into the bedroom Esmee was already getting settled on the bed by the door.

“Hi” she said sheepishly. “Hey” i smiled back, god why was i already getting red in the face. “Ik heb fifa meegenomen, wil je spelen?” (I brought fifa with me, do you wanna play?) she asked me opening her backpack to get something out. “Ja, alleen als je tegen je verlies kan. Ik ben fifa kampioen in Engeland” (Yes, only if you’re not a sore loser. I’m the fifa champion in England) I told her. She laughed at me and got the game out.

A few games of fifa and a whole lot of laughing further and it was time for dinner already. Jackie was the one knocking at our door and yelling for us to come.

Esmee had won multiple times after i won the first round but i’ll never admit that to anyone. “Rematch after dinner.” I told her and she just nodded and went to sit at the table with Daphne, Jackie, Kerstin, Daan and Damaris. I sat between Vic and Jill. Vic gave me one of her smug smiles and i just rolled my eyes at her.

“Dus y/n, hoe vind je het tot nu toe?” (So y/n, how do you like it so far?) Merel asks me. “Het is goed, ik ben blij met m’n nieuwe roomie, gelukkig niet zo’n slechte verliezer als jij” (It’s good, i’m happy with my new roomie, luckily not such a sore loser like you). Merel huffed “Ja tuurlijk alsof jij hebt gewonnen, ik check dat later nog wel” (Yeah sure as if you’ve won, i’ll check that later)

esmeebrugts

When iopened instagram this wasn’t what i expected. I ran up to my room and saw Esmee watching some Netflix show on her bed. When she saw my face she bursted out laughing. “Als blikken konden doden..” (If looks could kill..) she said. I walked straight to her bed, jumped on her and started tickling her. “Dat is wat je krijgt, ik moet mn fifa imago hoog houden!” (That’s what you get, i got to keep my fifa image high!) I yelled. “Oke oke! Ik zal het nooit meer doen pinky zweer!” (Okay Okay! I will never do it again pinky promise!) she told me with that stupid smile of her. I stopped and looked down at her, how is she even this pretty like come on.. Esmee looked me in the eyes, at my lips and then away. I got nervous and backed up.

“Uhh ja d-dus ik ga nu dus ik ga even iets uhh ja ik ga gewoon oke..” (Uhh yeah s- so im gonna get like some uhh yeah i’m just gonna go okay..) I mumbled and ran away bumping into Daan who was walking to her room.

Before we knew it we were off to Sydney, Australia. Vic forced me out of my window seat but slept before the plane was off the ground, what a waste of that window seat.. This was gonna be the most boring and long 24 hours of my life.

I was so tired when we landed, only getting a few hours of sleep. We were welcomed by a few staff members from fifa and went into the coach who would bring us to our basecamp.

I chose the best window seat i could find and expected a certain Arsenal player to sit next to me but Esmee beat her to it.

We talked about what we wanted to do in Australia, our opponents and family. When Esmee asked me about life in the wsl i was already fast asleep, my head resting on her shoulder.

Esmee looked down at y/n and started smiling. Vic saw the interaction and tapped Daan on her shoulder. They gave each other knowing looks and started giggling away. Esmee looked up and saw the duo staring at her, she went red at the idea of being caught staring at y/n. She turned her head quickly and stared out of the window, falling asleep not long after.

When i woke up i heard giggling and saw Vicky and Daan looking at Daans phone. I chose to ignore it and went on to look at my instagram feed.

daniellevddonk

“Danielle van de Donk, Victoria Pelova. Het maakt me niet uit hoe klein jullie zijn ik maak je dood” (Daniëlle van de Donk, Victoria Pelova. I don’t care how small you are i’ll kill you) I yelled maybe a little too hard because Esmee woke up. “Hey wat is er aan de hand?” (Hey what’s going on) she asked me, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. I showed her Daan’s story and she just shrugged “Awh zo erg is dat toch niet, je ziet er schattig uit” (Awh it’s not that bad, you look cute). I don’t know what came over me but i just started to blush and looked away making Vic and Daan laugh even harder.

The rest of the camp went smoother than i thought. I was roomed with Esmee and we did almost everything together. We played fifa, boardgames, sat at the same table and if it wasn’t that we were out exploring together. Most of the time we just got lost but that’s when google maps comes in handy.

We ended first in our group. Esmee making those two beautiful goals against Vietnam and I made my debut and debut goal.

When Andries announced that i was starting against Vietnam i was over the moon. The game started good with Lieke making the first goal in the 8th minute and Katja the second in the 11th. Esmee saw her chance and took a shot. Everyone knew it was in when the ball went off her foot. I was the first one to jump on her to celebrate, hugging her tightly. “Es! Es, je hebt het gedaan!” (Es! Es, you did it!) I yelled

My goal was much less spectacular. Jill hit the post and the ball landed at my feet, I tapped it in through the legs of the keeper and to the back of the net. I couldn’t even do a celebration because everyone was already on me. It’s not like celebrations are a nedwnt thing anyway.

When Esmee scored her second goal i was on the bench but that didn’t stop me from celebrating just as hard.

The game ended and i ran straight to Esmee, congratulating her on those two rockets.

(pretend that you’re Lieke Martens)

y/n_y/l/n

liked by esmeebrugts and 8.975 others

honoured to have made my World Cup debut and thankfull for every one of you ❤️ ps. Esmee, i love your right foot 🪄

comments

jackie_groenen_14 😍😍

viviannemiedema zo enorm trots op jou ❤️

esmeebrugts only my right foot? 🙄

esmeefan56 has anyone else seen esmee’s comment 😭

y/nbrugts1 their hug was so wholesome

As the days went by Es and i only got closer, everyone started to notice it, even the fans.

OranjeLeeuwinnen

liked by y/n_y/l/n and 23.893 others

exploring Sydney with the team 🗺️

comments

y/l/nfanxx isn’t that y/n and esmee??

↳ brugtsfan1 i think so, they’re so cute

↳ woso23 i ship them so hard 🫶

After our win against South Africa we had to play against Spain in the quarterfinals. This was our most difficult game and everyone knew it. But we all knew that if we were gonna win the World Cup, we should be able to beat every team.

It was the night before the game and surprise surprise, i couldn’t sleep. I don’t even know why, there was no chance that i would even play so who am i so nervous for?

after going from side to side i couldn’t take it anymore and just got out of bed and went on a walk. I walked to the pitch and started shooting and taking corners. I ran a few laps around the pitch and sat down. Australia is actually unreal. The weather is perfect and the sky is so clear you can even see stars (or planes that look like stars but whatever).

I heard footsteps walking towards me and groaned. “Hey waarom lig je niet in bed?” (Hey why are you not in bed?) Esmee asked as she sat next to me. “Ik kan niet slapen en jij?” (I can’t sleep and you?). Me neither she told me. This time around the silence wasn’t as awkward, it felt kinda nice to be honest.

Esmee wrapped her arms around me and layed my head on her shoulder. I don’t think i actually hate that stupid smile of hers or anything about her really. I quite love everything about her, especially her stupid smile.

“Y/n, ze hebben me bij Arsenal, Chelsea, Manchester City en een paar uhh.. andere clubs een contract aangeboden” (Y/n, Arsenal, Chelsea, Manchester City and uhh a few.. other clubs have have offered me a contract) she told me. “Es dat is geweldig, dan spelen we samen in de wsl” (Es that’s amazing, we’ll play in the wsl together) I cried. She gave me a nod and a hum.

Esmee turned her head and i looked up at her. “Ik hou meer van je dan alleen je rechter voet weet je” (I love you more than just your right foot you know) i told her looking down at my lap. She just chuckled and took my face into her hand. “Je hebt geluk dat ik ook van fifa verliezers hou” (you’re lucky i love fifa losers too), i fake angry pushed her away and she let out a laugh. “En jij hebt geluk dat ik je mag” (And you’re lucky that i like you) i told her. She looked at my eyes and then at my lips. I leaned forward and kissed her. Luckily she kissed me back.

We walked back to our room and fell asleep in her bed, her legs entwined with mine and my head in the crook of her neck.

When i woke up Es was already awake, getting ready in the bathroom. I walked up to her brushing her teeth and kissed her on cheek “good morning” I told her “Ik kan niet wachten tot je straks ook in Engeland speelt en we elke dag zo wakker kunnen worden” (Can’t wait until you’ll play in England too and we’ll wake up like this every morning) She gave me a lopsided smile and i started to get ready too.

I started on the bench and Esmee was starting. The game was tight, Spain scored in the 81th minute through a penalty. In extra time we scored. We still had a chance. And just like that, our dream was crushed. Spain scored in the 111th minute and we were out.

Esmee sank to the floor and covered her face with her hands. The spanish players were celebrating while our dream was gone.

I walked to Esmee and sat infront of her. “Es, je hebt gedaan wat je kon.” (Es, you did what you could) I told her and gave her a hug.

“Y/n ik ga naar Barça” (Y/n i’m going to Barça) she told me.

How stupid could i be, falling in love with someone i knew for a few months. How fucking stupid could i be, expecting her to come to England for me.

Just when i thought today couldn’t get worse... The tears rolled down my cheeks again and i walked away towards the tunnel, Vic screaming my name but i just ignored her.

A/N this is my first fic, english is not my first language so i’m sorry if i made mistakes!! might make a part 2?!

#esmee brugts #victoria pelova #vivianne miedema #arsenal wfc #arsenalwfc x reader #esmee brugts x reader #nedwnt #oranjeleeuwinnen #jill roord #woso x reader #woso community #wwc 2023

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