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[er-cryptid]

The Supermarket (French)

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[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 14

TITLE: Some things are better left unknown

PAIRINGS: Bang Chan x Felix x reader

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: a threesome with Chanlix where you’re yet to discover a very sobering truth about the pair of them.

TAGS: explicit language, threesome, oral sex (f!reader receiving), porn with plot, use of the name 'baby girl' and 'angel', swearing, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex but protected anal sex, double penetration, big dick!Chan agenda, praise, slight body worship if you squint, kissing/making out.

A/N: Aussie line fucks hard, bye. (If there are mistakes, I will fix them. Currently running on v low sleep)

KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @mal-lunar-28 @luneskies @queenmea604 @kibs-and-bits @kbitties @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung

-

Milk, nori, rice, raw tuna, coffee, yoghurt, bread, and eggs. 

This was all Chan sent you to the supermarket for. All of which could have been easily picked up from the convenience store down the road. Maybe minus the raw tuna which has to be high grade since Chan wanted to make an attempt at onigiri for the first time. However, you would’ve saved an entire trip to the busy supermarket.

Not to mention, grocery shopping sucks in general. At least that is when you’re on your own. In your apartment that you share with your good friends Chan and Felix, two people are responsible for the shopping per week which rotates each time. 

If you’re with Felix, sometimes you both tend to muck around. Not to mention forgetting almost a quarter of things on the shopping list which ends in a stern lecture from Chan. On that matter, if you’re with Chan, it’s an in-and-out task at the store in less than ten minutes. 

Efficient and practically timeless.

Even though it’s no trivial matter, you manage to get through the pointless shopping before heading home to the apartment. These could’ve been picked up at the convenience store, you think to yourself again. A sigh leaves your lips as you unlock the door, bumping it open further with your hip as you slide your shoes off. 

“I’m back. Remind me to buy an umbrella next time-”

Your body freezes on the spot. The bag of items falls from your possession, collapsing onto the floor. Something inside it broke but it’s nowhere near enough a distraction for what is in front of your eyes. 

Maybe you need your vision checked because if your eyes weren’t deceiving you, then you wouldn’t have just seen Chan and a topless Felix who are both making out. The two of them sat on the edge of the bed, still lip-locked until they caught onto your presence.  

For the few seconds you stood there, rooted to the ground, felt the absolute longest.

Neither of them was as internally panicked as you when they noticed you standing there. Nor did they have hundreds of questions zapping around their brains in the span of a few seconds. It was like your entire vocabulary had turned to dust and were blown away because there were no words to describe what the hell was happening. 

Maybe it was a dream. 

“T-That was quick,” Chan stammers with an awkward chuckle, breaking away from Felix, almost pretending like nothing just happened. 

Felix looked like a complete mess. Dark brown hair mangled - clearly from Chan either running his fingers through it or tugging it - the air gets stuck in your throat with those two theories in mind, painting very interesting visuals and an odd sensation in your stomach. 

Chan looked equally dishevelled. There’s a dark red splotch peeking above his collarbone that you had no trouble guessing how it got there. On top of that, his pants were already half undone, and his lips were bitten red and wet, and they both looked so…so…

“What…the fuck…” you manage to speak once your mind has cleared the only one per cent of its capacity to grasp the circumstances.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Felix quickly says as he stands up from Chan’s lap and walks over to you.

It was useless for him to try to take advantage of your shell-shocked state because once your surprise had completely thawed out, your words started coming back to you. 

“Oh my god, what am I even doing?” You ask, clamping your hands over your eyes, ready to head right back out of the apartment. “I’m heading out.”

“Wait!” Chan calls out, arm outstretched towards your direction. “You don’t…you don’t have to go. If you want, you can maybe join us. If…if you like.”

Join them? Blindsided by those words, there was no trouble for the difficulty you had in trying to figure out if you heard right or just imagined what Chan said. Why would he ask you that question? But more importantly, why were they hooking up in the first place? It was evident that there had been something going on between Felix and Chan - unless this was just a new one-time thing. 

However, even if it wasn’t, you had been left out of the secret. Nonetheless, you quickly came to your senses. Whether they hook up or not is none of your business. 

“J-Join you?” You stammer. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Chan emphasises. “It’d be rude to not let you in on the fun.” 

You definitely weren’t hearing things, and this wasn’t a dream. 

At first, you can’t understand why you’re even considering their request, but there is one piece of information that sprung to mind and that’s your sex life. It hasn’t been entirely sex-filled as you’d like it to be, not to mention your slight lack of experience with threesomes wasn’t vast - but it also wasn’t limited either, especially after that encounter you once had with two of their friends Changbin and Hyunjin on a separate occasion. Although, they didn’t need to know that at all. 

That being said, this takes the cake. You can’t even comprehend what Chan or Felix are like in bed but, the opportunity seemed too ridiculously hot to pass up. 

“You...you want me to-“

“Like Channie said, if you want,” Lix assures you, interrupting your babbling. 

You aren’t somewhat surprised that Felix would ever want a threesome. He’s had sexual partners here and there in the past, multiple ones at a time. However, Chan never struck you as the type to have sex with more than one person. Even after a year of living with him and getting to know him, he’s still pretty private and exclusive. 

With the matter at hand and the more you think about the prospect in front of you, you aren’t opposed to the idea. So with your brain taking full control of your body, you hesitantly step over the discarded groceries lying on the ground. This is happening. Felix picks up on the right cue and extends his hand out to you as you take it gently. 

He guides you over to the edge of the bed where Chan is still sitting, but as you’re led over, he rises to his feet. There were a few seconds where you’re a little bit bewildered by what’s going on, but when you look into Chan’s dark eyes and as he takes your free hand, you become more centred.

Before you know it, he leans down to kiss you and kisses you good. You’ve never felt anything like it and as Felix releases your hand and sneaks behind your body, your mind starts turning into jelly. He gently swipes your hair to the other side of your shoulder while his other hand freely roams around your waist, underneath your shirt to feel the heat of your skin. His mouth places chaste kisses from your shoulder up to your neck. 

It feels so heavenly to be sandwiched between them; Felix kissing, biting softly over your skin while Chan continues to explore your mouth. It was impossible to think that just a few minutes ago, you were at the grocery store and now a complete world shift just seems to be occurring within that time frame. 

Chan breaks away from you for a second, kissing you tenderly one last time before sitting back down on the bed and moving up to the headboard. God this is really happening. You’re too deep in it now to not follow him like a lost, yet obedient puppy. You can see that he’s hard and want to touch him so badly but-

“Sit between me and face towards Felix,” he instructs before you can even reach for him. 

Your cheeks burn. While you have no idea what’s entirely in store, your body is getting excited and very obviously, so is Felix. He crawls over to you once you’re snug in between Chan’s legs before he tugs your shirt up from the hem and tosses it aside. Then, he finds your lips and kisses you until you have to silently beg and chase him for it.

Squirming in place, you feel hot and subjugated by Chan sitting behind you - snaking and trailing his hands around your now half-bare body, and Felix in front of him, who’s now gone on to give his supposed man some attention too.

He’s up on his knees with his body so close to you that you can feel the heat from him. Chan tilts his head up from resting on your shoulder and lets Felix take what he wants. The slick wet sounds of them both kissing along with the tiny moans you can feel in your ear, makes you shiver all over. You’re only still comprehending this all, that this is still actually happening. 

“So needy,” Chan says as he breaks away from him, inches away from his face when Felix hears and feels you unbuckling his belt. He straightens back up and consumes how flustered you are, observing the way you blink up at him pleadingly, displaying how badly you want it now. 

Felix smirks, gently grabbing your face with one hand and lowering down just enough to kiss you senseless again. But he cannot stray away from his other plans so frees himself from your lips to help slide your pants off down and discards them to the side. 

Immediately, you can see where this is going. 

“Aw, look how bad you want it,” Felix comments, swiping his thumb over the damp spot of your underwear with enough pressure for you to muffle a whine by biting down on your lip. You do want it bad and already seem to be losing a fight to the pleasure Felix is barely giving you. 

“Don’t tease her too much,” Chan cautions. 

Felix doesn’t seem to hear the warning for him as he helps you shimmy your underwear down. From there, Chan takes over. He hooks both of his legs over yours and separates them to not just expose you for Felix but to hold you down for what’s about to unfold. 

Heat accelerates through your cheeks as you feel embarrassed. At this point, your brain hasn’t caught up with the fact that you never show this much skin, let alone any skin in front of either of them. But that was going to be an afterthought for you when Felix distracts your mind by gently prying your legs open from your bent knees.

Pathetic whimpers slip past your lips as Felix lies down on his stomach, his face inches away from your pussy while he pets and glides his two fingers in between your folds. 

Your head shoots back onto Chan’s shoulder, very narrowly missing his face, “f-fuck…oh my god.”

Without warning, you feel the tip of Felix’s tongue lap a few times over your clit. If it weren’t for Chan acting as a human restraint to hold you down, there would’ve been a solid chance of you lurching forward. His arms are still wrapped around your abdomen, preventing you from moving forward so that you can take what Felix is giving you. 

It’s cruel, but Chan thinks it’s necessary for you to feel everything. Which you do when your hands grip each of Chan’s thighs, nearly squashing him backwards between you and the wall. 

“How does it feel?” he asks you. 

“F-Felix, mmm-” you breathe out his name, unable to answer properly and feel some vibrations from Chan’s chest to suggest that he was chuckling. Mainly at the fact that you weren’t able to directly answer his question. 

But it’s not long until the room quickly fills with your whimpers and moans mingled with the beautiful wet sounds as Felix keeps eating out your pussy. Tingly sensations spread like wildfire throughout every cell in your body from his mouth. It’s gradually becoming impracticable to keep up with his tongue. Not that you’ve ever imagined it before, but he does give good oral, good enough to put your breathing pace out of whack when he sucks on your clit. 

He’s not afraid of enjoying himself either. You can hear and feel his moans reverberate throughout your lower half. It even adds to the sensation of bliss that’s forming a knot in the pit of your stomach. So even though you don’t know, this is as good for Felix as it is for you. To him, it’s like going to heaven. 

What you also didn’t seem to know was when Chan unclasped your bra from behind your back and placed it to the side. His hands went from just holding you to now groping and playing with your tits as your body continued to melt into Felix’s mouth. 

“You’re loud aren’t you?” Chan whispers in your ear, rolling both of your nipples in between his thumbs and fingers to make you mewl and squirm. The different methods of pleasure send interesting messages to your brain that only make that crest of ecstasy build higher. 

You can only mewl until coherent words appear in his brain and out through his mouth, “s-sorry.”

Felix’s head game is so ridiculously mind-blowing that it makes you forget what language you speak.

Chan chuckles, purring into your ear, “don’t be sorry. You just can’t help it can you?” 

His hand circles up to your jaw, tilting it towards his face. He confirms in his mind how much of a mess you are. Cheeks stained pink with a fucked up expression that reads ‘I need more’, to which Chan reaches down and kisses you, sloppy and lazy. 

The velvety feel of your mouth when you open up more is slick with warmth. It’s starting to become more obvious how close you are when you start moaning repeatedly into Chan’s mouth. 

“I’m going to fuck you after this,” he breaks away, just inches from his lips again. 

You never would’ve guessed that Chan was even capable of forming such a dirty sentence. Then again, you never would’ve guessed that you would ever be in the position that you’re in now - having a threesome with your two housemates. 

“I’m…you’re gonna make me cum,” you sob, turning your head towards Chan on his shoulder, almost as if you were trying to escape the expansion of euphoria. He couldn’t help but kiss your forehead, waiting for you to brace for that wave. 

“Yeah?” Chan rouses. “Want to cum for us baby girl?”

You nod, too helpless to form an answer when you’re on the cusp of a forceful orgasm. He underestimated the strength he needed to hold you down, especially when you’re about to cum. So just when he needed to add more force, your body stiffens. Your legs so desperately crave to clamp around Felix’s head to help triage the pleasure, but it’s no use when Chan has you completely locked in. 

Your eyelids flutter, head pressing back further into Chan’s shoulder, “yes! I’m cumming!” 

With ragged, heavy breathing, the all-consuming pleasure takes you by the throat as the pleasure surges without control. Even though you’re being held down, it doesn’t stop your body from quivering. It lasts for what feels like an entire minute – one of the best orgasms you think you’ve ever experienced. 

Felix’s tongue slows down to a snail's pace, licking a few final stripes before kissing his way up your body, from your clit, abdomen, and then up to the base of your throat. His chin glistens as he adorns a smug smile. 

“Fuck…” you sigh out defeatedly, the aftermath of experiencing a volume of pleasure was starting to take its toll. “Oh my god.”

Chan kisses the side of your head, “sound so beautiful when you cum. Lix, switch with me so I can fuck her, yeah?”

“Wait-“ you pause, trying to reorient yourself as you hold onto Chan’s forearm for support. “I wanna ride you.” 

Felix looks down at you, “you sure angel? Channie isn’t exactly small.” 

From that statement alone, it was obvious to you that Felix was speaking from experience, a strong indication that they had in fact mucked around at least once in the past if not multiple times. But it didn’t matter if Chan or Felix for that matter was packing twelve inches, you needed to have something inside you to tame that need of feeling full. 

“I want to ride you-“ you nod to Chan – “but I want you to fuck me at the same time-“ you indicate towards Felix.

Neither of them expected you to be into that. Then again, they didn’t necessarily expect you to join them in bed either so anything was a surprise to them at this point. Chan and Felix can’t deny how insanely hot it is to hear you not only ask for them to do something but specifically ask you to do that. 

“Are you sure baby?” Chan has to ask you for assurance. 

“I can…I can take both of you.”  

Still stunned at your answer, Felix ushers to Chan, “you heard her.” 

He cannot lie and say that he’s not excited, because he is – they both are. So while Felix goes into the bedside table for a condom and lube, you move yourself off of Chan, turn around and start unbuckling his belt and helping him take his jeans off, almost like you’re in a rush. The imprint of his hard dick is enough to make your mouth water, and as Felix said, Chan definitely isn’t small. 

“Easy, I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, reorienting himself on the bed so that his head is on the pillow.  

Felix returns with the items he needs to help prep you, taking it as a sign to straddle over Chan’s legs and slowly tug his black boxers down. His cock springs onto his abdomen, the dark pink tip reaching just under his belly button. He had to be at least eight inches. Maybe just under, just.

“Ready angel?” Felix asks, kneeling behind you as you straddle Chan. The position would allow you to not only ride Chan but to take Felix from behind too, a dream so delicious that you can’t help but wonder how it was still all possible. 

“Yes,” you mutter. 

“Okay then,” he replies. 

Chan then holds the base of his cock steady for you, watching you slowly take those eight inches. The tip of his dick gently slots into your pussy, taking your time with sinking down. The warm heat engulfs his length, already sending shockwaves throughout his lower half. 

“That’s it, baby,” Chan says encouragingly, his fingertips delicately massaging over the skin of your things. “Good girl.”

You bite down on your bottom lip at the extraordinary stretch. In the meantime, Felix squirts a dollop of the lube onto his fingers to warm it up a bit before applying it to your hole.

He thumbs over it, sending shivers up your spine. It’s vital to him to make sure that you’re prepped well for him to fuck your ass. So he starts small by slowly inserting the tip of his finger, before gradually using slow yet long strokes, enough to make your head loll back. 

Felix has to express in awe when he sees the result of your efforts to fully envelope Chan’s length, “look at that. You took all of him, angel.” 

You know very well that you have because you can feel him in places that other men in your past haven’t reached. The stretch still sings a bit but it could easily be confused with the gorgeous satisfaction of Chan filling you right out. 

“So…big,” you strain out, scratching your nails down Chan’s abdomen, almost like a cat, just not as painful. 

Meanwhile, as Felix has slowly been stretching your hole out with his fingers, he uses his teeth and his free hand to peel the foil back of the condom packet. He had already freed himself from his jeans when he went to reach for the lube beside the bed so was hard and ready to roll the condom down his cock.   

“M’ready Lix,” you say to him, unable to see the smile you brought to his face from how eager you are. 

“I know baby, just one second,” he replies before aligning his cock with your hole. 

Very carefully and slowly, he starts pushing his tip in. Your eyes flutter shut, steadying your breathing in the process in preparation to take all of him as well. Chan rubs up and down your arm, distracting you from the temporary sting. With the lube doing its job, Felix can continue to push in at a leisurely pace right until he has the majority of his cock wrapped up by you. 

“Doing so well Y/N,” Chan says reassuringly. “Just stay like this for a bit until you’re ready to move yeah?” 

You nod, allowing your body and muscles to relax and ease into the pleasure that’s starting to fade out the burn. It’s difficult to comprehend a fuller feeling than this; to have two cocks stuffed in you to the hilt, and after a few moments of getting used to it, you slowly start to move. 

“Mmm, yes fuck,” you sigh with satisfaction, using your hands on Chan’s abdomen to steady your body as you being to move your hips. “You both…feel so fucking good inside me.”

Your words were difficult for Felix to not listen to who was trying to ward off from thrusting for a little bit until you were comfortable with him starting to fuck you. It wasn’t until your movements became a bit quicker that he began to catch up to your pace. Very quickly did the room turn into a space brimming with moans, wet sounds, and the sound of skin slapping. It was plenty to add to the intense sensation you were hurtling towards.  

Chan’s eyes are fixated on watching your pussy swallow his cock with every long stroke you take on him, “oh my god.”

With his tank top still on, Chan lifts it by the hem and holds onto it with his teeth. It wasn’t just to make sure that your hands weren’t going to be slipping on him as you use his abdomen to support yourself when you rock down, but it was also to restrict a whole bunch of moans that were about to rip through his chest. But even that couldn’t put a lid on the groans and growls rumbling from him. 

“Taking us both so well angel,” Felix says exasperatedly in your ear. 

His deep yet velvety voice has you leaning back slightly so that half of your back is pressed against his chest. With the help of you turning your head towards his face, Felix’s mouth crashes onto yours, almost tasting the remnants of yourself from before. He kisses you passionately, moaning into your mouth like he’s going to die if he doesn’t. 

“Fucking perfect,” he growls, diverging from your mouth to dive into your neck to suck a few hickies in and groping your tits from behind. “Can’t get enough of you dammit.” 

You sob out as he pinches your nipples, but also when Chan reaches down to your pussy, finds your clit and begins to rub in perfect motions, “god – fuck, I can’t…s’too much!” 

Their cocks hit spots so phenomenally that each time they stroke over them, your holes involuntarily clench around them. Not to mention the total stimulation they were feeding you. 

Felix’s hips haven’t faltered since they started pumping forward into your ass. The upward curvature of his cock seemed to be scratching the part of your brain that is responsible for making your eyes roll back. Chan’s dick on the other hand had you shaking. The length and girth were sickeningly satisfying. 

“Not gonna last,” you whine, still keeping up the same pace when you rock down on Chan and feel Felix continue to thrust in and out. “So close…” 

The hem of Chan’s shirt is long gone from his mouth, already given up on trying to suppress whatever was going to come out, “gonna cum for us again, huh? Such a good girl, taking us both at the same time.” 

Chan couldn’t lie either, but he was close a long time ago, probably the second you decided that you wanted to ride him. Felix happened to be on the same page. He couldn’t get over this entire situation, finding it so fucking hot that even just a dream of it would be a blessing. 

Words start to slip away from your brain once more. Aside from your orgasm swimming towards an astronomical high, you try to cling to that amazing feeling before it eventually disappears. But all good things come to an end. Your nails dig into Chan’s thighs while Felix has one arm barred just under your chest as the other hand doesn’t let up on your nipple. It throws your pace off balance and staggers your breathing when you start reaching that very pinnacle of euphoria. 

“Yes! Fuck, I’m cumming!” You scream out. 

Your thighs clamp around the frame of Chan’s lower half, shaking and shivering in place as the pleasure reaches its apex. Felix didn’t let up on his pace, fucking you all through your orgasm as Chan replaces your motions by fucking upwards and into you. Both of your holes spasm and contract around their dicks, enough to actually make them cum by the time you’ve reached the height of your orgasm. 

“I’m gonna cum, holy fuck, s’too good,” Felix’s head rests on your back, watching his cock disappear in and out of you before he starts to bust inside of the condom. His fingernails brutally dig into your hips when he cums. 

Your moans easily fill up the room once more now that you have no choice but to succumb to the euphoria when your orgasm hits its hardest. Chan’s head tips back further into the pillow, eyes screwed tight shut as he’s hit with a tsunami of pleasure. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he exclaims loudly, his chest heaving up and down as he spills inside of you. He’s lucky that he did because as the pleasure reached a point where it was too much for you to bear, you slowly lean forward towards Chan, their cocks sliding out of you in the process. 

On each exhale your body shudders, like the surges of aftershocks while the pleasure slowly plateaus. From this angle, Felix can still see you contracting, watching Chan’s cum leak from your pussy. If he wasn’t so fucked out, he would’ve had the energy to eat you out again. 

In saying that, he is the first to recover and come to his senses a bit faster than either you or Chan. He takes the condom off, ties it, and discards it in the rubbish bin in the corner of the room before putting his boxers back on. Meanwhile, you’re still panting trying to catch your breath, resting on top of Chan’s body, you feel his hand run soothingly up and down your spine. 

“Such a good girl for us,” he says caringly. “Felt so good.”

Felix sits beside you both at the top of the bed. He cards a gentle hand through your hair, observing your distant expression, “you there baby?” 

You blink up at him and nod, your brain still trying to process that sort of orgasm. 

“When you’re ready, we’ll get you cleaned up yeah?” He smiles softly down at you. 

As the minutes ticked by, Felix lent you a helping hand to stand up when you were ready. Even though you were wobbly on your feet, he still guided you to the bathroom and ran a nice hot shower. Both Felix and Chan joined you in a bid to make sure you knew that they were there, dousing you with as much praise as an individual could get – and they meant every word. 

When you were ready to hop out, Chan fetched you one of his warm jerseys and placed it straight over your body before telling you to hop in his bed while he went to gather up the towels and clothes from the bathroom. Just as he was picking up the last items, Felix caught him right as he was about to walk out. 

��She okay?” Chan asks him. 

Felix nods reassuringly, “out like a light.”

“Alright then,” he sighs contently. “She’ll probably be asleep for the rest of the day.”

“Mm,” he hums, staring at a space just to the side of Chan who picks up on the subtle behaviour. 

“Is there something wrong?” Chan asks as a slight concern balloons in his chest. 

“When are you going to tell her?” Felix asks. 

Chan stares at him, trying to figure out what he means, “tell her what?” 

He rolls his eyes and chuckles, “that you like her, idiot. That we like her.” 

That had been a distant thought for Chan for some time. The possibility of that ever working out between the three of you seemed like a long shot. You only all slept together. There was no depth to it other than that even though deep down, Chan would’ve liked it to be for the sole purpose that he likes you. But it’s not just him.

It’s also the one standing at the doorframe, staring right back at Chan; Felix. 

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut #hyunjin smut #changbin smut #felix smut #i.n smut #chanlix #bang chan x reader #felix x reader #chanlix x reader

[vroomvroomcircuit]

A never-ending Worry

(A/N): Ikea gave me a big anxiety attack the other day. Here we are now.

Summary: Reader discovers her own anxiety together with Max through several instances.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Wordcount: 2k

🏎Masterlist🏎 _____________________ Anxiety is a peculiar thing, especially when you suffer from it. It is for (Y/N) at least.

Ever since her first anxiety attack at the ripe age of 16 years, (Y/n) started to worry. About everything. All the damn time. Her head is running the whole time, thinking about different scenarios that could happen. Like her best friend once said:

“The possibility of a baby killing you is slim, but never zero.”

Maybe the possibilities for any of the “what ifs” really happening is low, but she will be prepared if it does happen. It’s an odd sense of safety she can find refuge in, especially in a world of unpredictability.

This is where the peculiarity comes into play. She does not have the knowledge or vocabulary to describe it all.

But (Y/N) never really talked about her constant worries coupled with a never ending feeling of nervousness. Never spoke of this feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everyone feels like that, right?

“Hey Schatje? How many pairs of underwear have you packed for us?” Max called out for (Y/N) as he unpacked their suitcases, that his girlfriend herself packed for the two a couple of days before the trip even started.

A bit befuddled by his question, (Y/N) walks from the kitchen of the rental apartment, where she just finished putting away the groceries they got from their first run to the supermarket, to the bedroom.

“10 pairs for each of us. Do you think it won’t be enough? We can still go out and get some more tomorrow.” Max halts his movements for a second to check if her serious tone matches her face.

It does.

His girlfriend really means what she said.

“No, they will definitely suffice. You do know that we are here for only four days, right?” Max smiles at her. Maybe she just got something mixed up.

“Yes, of course. I planned our activities. It would be bad if I didn’t know about the length of our vacation.” She laughs to herself while moving to help Max unpacking. “Why are you asking?”

“Oh, nothing particular. Just checking.” Ok so. It is a thing for many women to overpack, especially regarding their underwear. “Can you explain your thoughts on the number to me? Why did you decide to pack 20 pairs of underpants in total?”

(Y/N) throws him a look. “Well, we need at least four, one for each day. Then I doubled that number, because something could have gone wrong on our car ride here or will on our way back, making us stay on vacation longer. Then eight felt like it’s not enough. Adding to the extra days, an accident could happen that makes you need an extra pair a day, right? And nine is an odd number that is not even a prime number, so I rounded up to ten. Completely logical.”

Well, it’s logical to her at least. Max was partially amazed by her train of thoughts and worries. He just let it be like that. After all, it’s just over packing and he loves how prepared she is in any given situation.

Prepared (Y/N) is. Always.

“Man, it is so hot, my fingers are sticky with sweat.” Daniel complaints. It’s a race weekend in Singapore and the Aussie is right. It is hot.

(Y/N), who walks with Daniel around the paddock while she waits for Max to get out of a meeting, starts to rummage in her backpack. The back she carries with her all the time. It’s close to iconic.

“Here is some hand disinfectant. It makes you feel a bit less sticky.”

Daniel smiles thankfully while taking the little bottle from the female’s hands. “Thank you. I just need to remember to put on some lotion, I don’t want my hands to dry out.”

As soon as he finishes his sentence, she replaces the disinfectant with another small bottle. “Don’t worry, I got you girl.” She winks at the Aussie.

“Oh wow, do you have everything important with you? Can you flee the country with that backpack spontaneously?” Daniel jokes, but it goes over her head.

“Yes, pretty much. I got a small first aid kit, my laptop and all needed chargers for my electronics. Oh, and my passport and IDs of course. Ah, and some small knick-knacks and snacks. Gotta be prepared for the worst case scenario, right?” Her seriousness unsettles something in the driver. But he kind of lets it go, just nodding to her statement. She is right, at least a bit, after all.

“Do you get more nervous when you get into the car? Or is your level of nervousness on the same level?

(Y/N) and Max cuddle in bed back in the safety of their home in Monaco. While asking the question in the wariness of the night, she traces the same shapes over and over again in her partner’s skin. It gives her an odd feeling of safety, the repetition.

Max has a confused look on his face. “What do you mean?” “Well, does your level of feeling nervous rise from the usual one before or during a race?” It sounds plausible to her. But it doesn’t for him.

Max sits up, leaning his upper body against the headboard to have a better look at his girlfriend. “Yes, it does rise, because my usual level of nervousness is zero like for everyone else. Of course I feel different from that, when I get into the car that can bring me over the finish line as a winner. I don’t get the question.”

(Y/N) blinks at him with a frown. “Not- no, not everyone’s level is zero. It’s really just for you that low.” Of course Max is always cool as a cucumber. He only gets this feeling in extreme situations.

“Oh Schtaje. It’s really not. Most people don’t feel nervous often. Do you?” He pulled her close to him, enveloping her completely.

“Not always. Right now, I’m not. But that is, because I’m with you. I know that together we can solve anything.” Max senses that (Y/N) doesn’t want to continue the conversation. He lets it be another time, partially to not make her feel completely uncomfortable in a peaceful moment, partially because he wants to do some research.

Her conversation with her boyfriend sparked something inside (Y/N). Hearing that not everyone is feeling the same way she does, it’s a lot to take in. So she started to do some reading of her own.

Many people on the internet describe the same moments she has: Constant nervousness, the need of being prepared at all times or she’ll break out in a sweat, plus the endless worrying.

And the sudden bursts of intense panic. These moments, where an all consuming fear grips her whole body into a chokehold. That makes her breaths become heavier and her thoughts even faster.

Reading about similar experiences to hers, it makes (Y/N) feel less alone. But one word stood out to her.

Anxiety.

She heard of it and has seen the portrayals on TV. But those are not what she feels. Or is it?

Everything and nothing make sense at the same time.

“Do you want to drive?” Max offers as they get ready to go out for dinner at a restaurant that is a tad too far away to be considered walkable distance. He regularly lets her drive, it’s a bit of emancipation. Why shouldn’t she drive when she has a license for that?

(Y/N) shakes her head no. “I don’t like today’s thoughts. I also feel extra nervous right now, I couldn’t find the menu of the restaurant online.” Max nods, understanding what kind of thoughts she is talking about - intrusive thoughts.

He also appreciates her openness with him about those feelings. “It’s ok, Schatje. I love driving for you, it’s my favorite kind of ride. We will also find something for you, we can order some dishes and share them until you decide which one you want.” He gives her a reassuring kiss on the cheek, hoping to ease up her worries.

During the drive, she holds his hand on the control stick. “It’s good to have you back. Last night I woke up in a panic and thought something must have happened to you on your flight and that this was the reason I had this huge anxiety attack. I couldn’t sleep until you texted me this morning when you landed at the airport.”

His heart grows heavy at that confession. He hasn’t known the extent of her anxious feelings. Max didn’t know how much they overshadowed her in her daily life.

(Y/N) herself never realized how much she has been hindered in her routines by her own thoughts and worries.

“It wasn’t the first time this happened. But it was the worst it has been so far. I thought you died. I waited for my phone to ring or the police to stand at the door, getting notified that you died in a plane crash. I already planned the next steps I had to take from there in my head.” (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look at her boyfriend after this admission.

It is weird to say something out loud, that she used to bury deep inside of her. This kind of vulnerability, it makes her want to crawl back into that hole again.

Over the last couple of weeks she realized that those spiraling thoughts are not here to make her feel safe. That the need of over preparedness is not necessary. That her anxious feelings are not some signs of something bad.

These thoughts are false friends, waiting for your demise, your downfall, to be able to say “I told you so”.

But where to go from here, from the realization of something going gravely wrong, to getting a grip of the situation. To make it all go away?

Max squeezes her hand before putting a kiss on it without taking his eyes off the road. “I’m here for you. I want to hear all those thoughts. As silly as they may sound out loud. I can help you in differentiating if they are necessary, needed, thoughts or if they are the product of overthinking. I want to help you. I want you to not feel anxious all the time. I want to help you through the anxiety attacks. We can get counseling - for only you or together. Just, let me be here for you during every step you take.”

His pleading brings tears to (Y/N)’s eyes. She didn’t know how noticeable her anxiety issues were to outsiders. She doesn’t know what it feels like for Max, seeing her in her most anxious states.

“Yes”, she answers him, “I want you to be here with me. I don’t know if I can do it on my own.” “You don’t need to find out. I’ll be there, for better or for worse.”

Turns out, Max’ deadpan and brutal honesty is exactly what (Y/N) needs.

The evening, where he was away for a race and she had to stay behind, because of her own work schedule. (Y/N) called him in the middle of a not very pretty anxiety attack. “I have this doctor’s appointment. It’s a check-up for my physical health. And what if I-I’m deathly sick and we are catching onto that only now?”

“This is a dumb thought.”

The female halts in her movements. Is it a dumb thought?

“I mean, yes. I regularly go out to donate blood. But maybe they haven’t caught something important accidentally.”

“That is stupid and unlikely.”

She stops again. “You are right. I actually have nothing to worry about.”

The road to having less anxiety is a twisted one, paved by setbacks and a small gap between succeeding and failing. But with Max as a passenger princess on that path (Y/N) knows she got it.

She will be ok, eventually.

#max verstappen image #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #x reader #reader insert #x you

[airyknightofcups]

Astrology observations III

✨Not a professional astrologer, take with serving spoons of salt✨

Highlights: Venus, Mars, Saturn, Neptune, 2h, 3h.

Whatever natal house the ascendant of your solar return chart is in will show the major focus of that year.

Saturn in the first house people are like popular and very friendly, but also not very confident and very softly spoken at the same time?? I don't really know how to describe it but I know a lot of people like this.

High amounts of water and air placements can show a real aesthetic sensibility (not as much as Libra Venus) but with general art, passion and knowledge for music, literature, painting, any art really, but I very rarely meet fire+earth people who have a passion for art.

Libra Mars hate confrontation, they will try so hard to avoid arguments and are the sort of people that say "I don't feel like discussing this right now" any time you try to address a problem

Gemini venus love to talk so much. They will just social butterfly with strangers at the supermarket and everything.

Moon conjunct Saturn is unassumingly observant in my experience, like they can be saying how bored they in a museum or something are but later will recount literally every object they saw in detail.

Dear Venus in the same sign as your ascendant, what is it like to have confidence about your appearance.

Descendant x Ascendant opposition synastry is so powerful. You just pick them out in a crowd of people and can't stop thinking about them, and it's a two way thing. Especially potent when Venus is in the mix.

Saturn in the third house can indicate really bad relationships with siblings.

Neptune and Jupiter in the second house often have very sonorous voices. Loud but kinda soft, and with very interesting vocabulary.

#astroblr #astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astrology observations #Saturn #Saturn 1h #saturn in the 1st house #Moon conjunct saturn #saturn in 3rd house #Venus #gemini venus #Mars #libra mars #synastry #Ascendant Descendant synastry #second house

[radioactivehydronerd]

Typa shit I've been up to:

Got on the wrong bus multiple times, got lost, and cried in public because Google maps kept changing my route and I couldn't figure out which way to go

Got put in the wrong class, way too advanced for my level, again I cried because I didn't understand shit and begged the uni office to please make me switch

Had to set up my own WiFi because I thought modem and router were the same thing

Almost teared up seeing some of my favourite snacks at the supermarket

Made the kitchen explode by dropping some water into hot oil, burning my finger in the process (please do NOT fry and make pasta at the same time)

Couldn't put my fitted sheets on the bed, straight up ripped the corners in a bout of rage but at least now it's easier to put them on

Speaking to offices in a mix of German, English and a lot of hand gestures because I want to use the language but I don't have enough vocabulary to save my life

#frambles #also trying to make friends with locals or other international students but Italians are everywhere

[kafka-ohdear]

hello duck :D since i just came back from a grocery run 💀😭 for brenny and dougley post war or modern au (whatever) what's your thoughts on them going shopping for groceries?? i mean of course dougley is the old married coupleᵀᴹ type and brenny would take meatball with them for sure (yes unfortunately this is exactly what i was thinking when I went for groceries 💀💀)

idk what kind of coincidence is this but my mom just asked me to get some groceries when i was answering this ask 😭

!!!!! alright you got me when you hit send this ask 😈

tw: long ass and random post about my headcanons for them 😭,,,

*

for dougley, i think it's like:

- blakely pays. of course.

- blakely is (un)surprisingly good at choosing fruits & vegetables etc, and he is like a professional yk. he has everything planned out and follows the exact list. nothing more, nothing less.

- dougie? that man doesn't know what is a shopping list. he likes something, he'll buy it.

- maybe i'm delulu rn but i think dougie can literally buy anything (mostly candies and random stuff) because: one, he doesm't meed to pay under any circumstances; two, blakely likes to see him smiles when he gets his favourite treats.

- okay. the neckerchief. based on the fact that blakely handles grocery runs very well, i'm convinced that dougie has tried at least once to tie the neckerchief onto blakely's head in the babushka style (idk im sorry about my poor vocabulary 💀💀,,,).

- blakely didn't resist him doing so, but he's already working on the plot of his revenge on dougie (yes i'm talking about the "coquette" bow 💀...).

- the kids in the supermarket/grocery store likes them (😭 idk because blakely has the grandpa aura to me,,, and dougie surely loves playing with kids) so whenever the kids see them doing grocery, they'd wave at the couple and talk to them.

- blakely does most of the things, and dougie will help him with smaller stuff like putting the groceries into their vehicle or help him carry some of them back home.

- dougie would steal some of the treats or some random stuff when blakely is unpacking the bags, which usually is blakely's.

- blakely knows but he wouldn't say a thing but plots on his great revenge mission instead

*

and in my mind brenny would be like:

- they certainly would bring their child aka meatball along with them whenever they are going out for groceries.

- they have zero clue what to buy for their meals and end up taking loads of random stuff back home.

- brady like canned meat. demarco doesn't. they argue over the problem that demarco throws up whenever he smells canned meat, but brady always wins and gets to buy some because their beloved meatball likes canned meat as well.

- brenny is the kind of couple would buy ice cream or other small treats after getting groceries.

- hmmm i have a feeling they might take a walk around (somewhere near there idk,,,) so meatball could enjoy some fresh air before going home.

- BTW ABOUT THE CLOTHING. i think brady would dress kinda??? like a fashion icon??? and demarco would wear clothes like some random ass guy with white t-shirt and black shorts with some slippers,,,

- demarco packs & unpacks things for almost all the time while brady uses entertaining meatball as an excuse.

- demarco doesn't mind because he loves seeing his two favourite person (i kinda feel like he would refer to them as "creatures" to tease brady 💀) happy together,,,

*

i'm really sorry for this long ass post and shitty headcanons but 😭😭😭 i hope you like them,,,

#dougley #james douglass #everett blakely #i'm so in love with them #brenny #😭😭😭😭😭 #john brady #bernard demarco #demarcooo #mota #masters of the air #the duck answering stuffs #nuh uh imagine demarco wearing dép tổ ong.....

[sayitalianolearns]

Multilingual vocabulary about places in town!

ENG - ITA - FRA - ESP - KOR

office - (l')ufficio - (le) bureau - (el) despacho - 사무실 shop - (il) negozio - (la) boutique - (el) negocio - 상점 shopping center - (il) centro commerciale - (le) centre commercial - (el) centro comercial - 쇼핑 센터 house - (la) casa - (la) maison - (la) casa - 집 building - (il) palazzo/(l')edificio - (le) bâtiment - (el) edificio - 빌딩 / 건물 bar - (il) bar - (le) comptoir/(le) café - (el) bar - 술집 coffee shop - (la) caffetteria - (le) café - (la) cafetería - 커피숍 restaurant - il ristorante - (le) restaurant/(le) ristô - (el) restaurante - 식당 pharmacy - (la) farmacia - (la) pharmacie - (la) farmacia - 약국

bank - (la) banca - (la) banque - (el) banco - 은행 post office - (l')ufficio postale/(la) posta - (le) bureau de poste/(la) poste - (la) oficina de correos - 우체국 park - (il) parco - (le) parc - (el) parque - 공원 church - (la) chiesa - (l')église - (la) iglesia - 교회 hospital - (l')ospedale - (l')hôpital - (el) hospital/(el) sanatorio - 병원 school - (la) scuola - (l')école - (la) escuela - 학교 university - (l')università - (l')université - (la) universidad - 대학 museum - (il) museo - (le) musée - (el) museo - 박물관

art gallery - (la) galleria d'arte - (la) galerie d'art - (la) galería de arte - 미술관 zoo - (lo) zoo - (le) zoo - (el) zoológico - 동물원 theater - (il) teatro - (le) théâtre - (el) teatro - 극장 supermarket - (il) supermercato - (le) supermarché - (el) supermercado - 슈퍼마켓 butcher shop - (la) macelleria - (la) boucherie - (la) carnicería - 정육점 bakery - (la) panetteria - (la) boulangerie - (la) panadería - 빵집 pastry shop - (la) pasticceria - (la) pâtisserie - (la) pastelería - 제과점 library - (la) biblioteca - (la) bibliothèque - (la) biblioteca - 도서관 bookstore - (la libreria) - (la) librairie - (la) librería - 서점

#languages #italian #english #french #korean #spanish #multilingual #polyglot #studyblr

[haerinari]

$* Criminal Love

pairing: criminal!yeonjun x criminal!femreader

warnings: use of a gun, explicit vocabulary

summary: inspired in loser lover yeonjun by txt. A little short story about you and Yeonjun being a couple and robbing a bank.

a/n: sorry for not posting this days, i don’t have inspiration lately hahaha.

Robbing a bank wasn’t an idea that ever crossed your mind, that was until you left school and your mom kicked you out of the house. In this case money was a problem, you couldn’t afford new clothes, food, water, or even a shelter.

So, it all started with the idea of just robbing a supermarket, taking with you some bottles of water and ramen and hiding them under your oversized hoodie. You did that for a couple or times, until one day, the woman on the cash register saw you hiding a bottle of water under your shirt.

This was your first time getting caught by someone, and damm, you didn’t knew what to do. The woman was yelling at you, screaming that she would call the police if you didn’t return the water you were taking. But obviously, you didn’t want to put it back.

And then, that was the first time you saw him. Black hair, dark eyes, soft pink lips, white shirt and blue jeans. He took your hand quickly and got you out of the store, running with you crossing a couple of streets.

“Thank you very much” you said.

“No problem” he reply. “Was this your first time getting caught?” you nod. “Yeah I saw that.”

“What’s your name?” you asked him.

“I’m Yeonjun. Choi Yeonjun, what about you?”

“Thank you, Yeonjun. I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Y/N” he smiled.

And that’s how it all started, neither you or him have were to go, so you just kept together…

Today was one of your big days, you and your boyfriend Yeonjun, had been planing this for a couple of months. Robbing food was not enough, you need money. And what a better place to rob money than a bank?

It was around 11 pm, you and Yeonjun were on a gray car that you rob from a car deposit like 2 weeks ago. Yeonjun drove to the nearest bank on the city and park the car a few meters away from the place.

Both of you got out of the car and walked a couple of meters to reach your finally destination. Lucky you, there were only around 2 people inside the bank. You weren’t scared at all, but the thought of someone calling the police and you ending on prison didn’t leave your mind.

Both of you got in the bank with a small gun on your hand, just to scare people you know.

“Everybody stay fucking still!” said Yeonjun. “If one of you move I will shoot you directly in the head, clear?”

You need to admit it, Yeonjun looked very hot threating people.

“Hi” you said pointing to the man that was in behind a table. “Would you be kind enough to put all the money you had over there here, please?”

You handed the man a black backpack so he could add all the money he could provide. Nervously adding and adding big quantities of money inside. When the backpack couldn’t take more, you gave the man a fake smile and got out of the bank with Yeonjun.

Both of you were jumping and laughing like crazy while running to your car. Someone must have called the police, because you could clearly hear the siren from miles ago.

“Turn off the light” you said getting into the car.

“Put your seat back”

Yeonjun turned off the car light and both of you put the seat back. The police car passed near you, lighting the inside of the car with blue and red lights.

Yeonjun and you looked at each other while laughing. Everything turned out very well, and now you had enough money to rent an apartment.

“Robbing with you is my favorite activity in this world” he said giving you a smile.

“Mine too” you answered.

“I love you very much, Y/N”

“I love you too, Junnie”

a/n: please give me ideas to write, pleaaaase.

#txt #txt yeonjun #yeonjun #choi yeonjun #txt post #txt imagines #loser lover #tomorrow x together #tubatu #junnie #my txt

[mari-monsta]

This is kind of just random thoughts and feelings but thinking about it I want to say that I really do feel like miraculous’ handling of marinette as a mixed race Asian character has improved over the seasons and I am a lot more fond of it now that I was previously.

Early on in the show I felt like the writing was alienating marinette as much as possible from her cultural heritage and portraying her as more of an “outsider” to it rather than someone who has GROWN UP with it as a constant part of her life. Now it’s not that I don’t think there are mixed kids out there who have this experience, this is not what I want to portray with this rant, nor do I want to invalidate anyone’s lived experience. But I do believe that having marinette appear entirely ignorant to not only her mothers maiden language but also largely the culture in Kung food was incredibly alienating and uncomfortable to watch. Having adrien, her white love interest, explaining to her not only the most simplistic language elements but also simple cultural ones that she likely WOULD be familiar with just through merely being close with her mother, is incredibly hard to watch for me.

I am NOT saying I do not think it was realistic for marinette not to speak Chinese. Many kids from all kinds of backgrounds are not fluent in their parents native languages for a variety of reasons. But I do feel it unrealistic for her to not pick up some simple vocabulary and cultural elements even without realizing just simply because of having her mother be a big influence on her life. We’ve seen later on that Sabine regularly partakes in many cultural practices all the time and the evidence of this is not only all over their family home but also marinettes own ROOM. Realistically, marinette is more familiar with Chinese culture than adrien will likely ever be just purely as a result of having it in her home.

NOW for my original point to this rant, I actually feel like this attitude towards marinettes culture and the handling of it in the show has actually improved significantly. While I do personally wish her motivation for visiting in the Shanghai special was not so tied to only adriens involvement, I’m really happy to see her learn more about her family and be able to appreciate those ties she has.

But the main episode that I want to praise is Qilin. This is the episode we really get to know more about Sabine as a character and as a result, the way Chinese culture impacts her identity and as a result, Marinette’s. Now there’s definitely arguments to be made regarding whether or not some of this was stereotypical or overly simplistic, but I really don’t have much to say about that myself not being Chinese, and personally don’t take any major issue with anything depicted. What I DO want to praise is them showing how her mothers value of Chinese culture impacts their home’s daily life and routines. Most of all, despite it being offscreen, the implement of something as simple as sharing with us that Marinette regularly goes out to get dim sum with her mother is always really heart warming to me. It may not seem like much but to me at least, casually having Asian food and hobbies be more common in my life than my peers is a really relatable experience to me. Just simple things like getting dim sum often or going to the Asian supermarket are the small ways that I feel like being Asian impacts my life all the time in very small relatively inconsequential ways, and I really loved seeing marinette getting some of this background depth to her life.

#now this is largely a summary of my PERSONAL feelings #I am in no any trying to speak for everyone and I couldn’t possibly!!!! #but also please keep in mind this is also NOT an invitation to like. have some sort of debate #if you feel differently about any of this I would love to hear it! #but ultimately these are my feelings as they relate to my life and my lived experiences. I am not going to debate them… #but also this is again a PERSONAL POST. so you don’t have to reblog or spread unless it resonates w you or something #just me sharing some thoughts I have sometimes about the show Bc I like it and the characters

[dinosaurcharcuterie]

At the risk of yelling at clouds, here's one thing you need to know when you become an exchange student that no one will tell you.

You need to listen to your host parents. And I'm not saying that in the "kids these days have no respect" kinda way. Yeah, every year, regardless of your location, there will be a few students who don't respect or listen to their host parents. They're not popular with anyone, and might exclude their home country from being considered for exchanges with their host country in the future. Some organizations offer second chances. Some put you on the next flight home. You'll be warned about that bit. They're not exaggerating.

The second reason, and the one I learned before I ever knew I'd do an exchange of my own, is because There's A Reason They're Telling You That. And, yes, that sounds condescending as all get-out, so here's the story of how I learned that through observation.

Now, just as a preface: this is not an exceptional exchange student story. There's gonna be several people in every exchange program, long or short, who have a story like this. Some more spectacular than others. One fellow student in my year had no one to learn from before her. Her backpack got yeeted off Preikestolen and she spent 6 weeks without personal documents or bank cards. My baby guest sister, the most respectful and meek girl you've ever seen, accidentally committed sacrilege on several levels during Sunday Mass at a Catholic church.

It was the perfect May in Western Europe. Temperatures were in the low to mid twenties, clouds were fluffy, and a local high school my brother went to had organized a two week exchange with a high school in California. The Euros had come back and readjusted, so they imported the baby Muricans and prepared a nicely culture heavy itinerary for the 17-18-yos.

The Californians realized within 6 hours that they could legally get wine and beer. Bars, cafés, supermarkets,... Some had it for breakfast. So, logically, they wanted as much space as possible in their luggage and day packs for souvenirs and... Well, they could get a 12 pack each on their lunch break without anyone batting an eye. As long as the teachers didn't notice you were tipsy, all was well.

They did not understand why their host parents (and local student counterparts) were baffled and alarmed at them going absolutely nuts for it. Ours came home on the verge of alcohol poisoning on the fourth day. I have not heard my mother so angry before or since. She wasn't speaking English, but the gist of it didn't need much translation. It wasn't until I went to university that I saw someone vomit that much. It is still the only time I've seen someone cut back from mindless binge drinking to "nah, three's enough for me, bro" in under 12 hours.

These were not unintelligent kids. They followed their itinerary, they had sourced and packed everything on their supply lists, they checked the weather forecast (even if they didn't understand the commentary) and dressed as well as they could for the weather. Which, as I said before, was perfect T-shirt and shorts weather for the entire two weeks.

The second day we had our adopted West Coast Drought Bunny with us, my parents scraped together their English vocabulary to advise the teens pack a rain coat for their city trip of the day. Not an umbrella, a rain coat. They did the parental thing and repeated themselves several times. My brother demonstrated he had packed his lightweight, wind proof, foldable rain coat and his American counterpart just smiled and assured them he'd be okay.

He came back soaked, having broken one overpriced pocket umbrella sold at tourist traps, switched to one of those thin plastic rain ponchos and ripped that too. He'd also made the genius decision to wear heavy denim jeans and canvas sneakers instead of quick dry cargo shorts and sandals. He had had two hours of sitting in his wet clothes on the bus to consider why he was in this predicament. You can guess what happened next.

Next day, lather, rinse, repeat. Minus the umbrella and jeans, at least. He still was starting to get a full-body rash from being in wet clothes so much.

Fourth day, pre-beer incident, my parents wised up enough to make this optimist with his undying faith in the sunny forecast symbol get out and show his raincoat, and then pack it in front of them, before they would take them to the bus.

This stylish, very expensive, brand name, survival grade rain coat did not have a hood. It was water proof, it fit well, but it assumed weather was a thing that moved straight down at all times, so it is always more versatile to just use a hat or umbrella.

That is not true in spring, or even summer, in Western Europe. Every weather deity has seen the BS that area of the planet has pulled, historically, and is not done punishing them for it. Rain can and does come out of nowhere, most likely with wind, at any angle it damn well pleases, and doesn't leave until it's ruined at least one outfit via the neck or shoulder seam. Maybe it lasts 10 minutes, could be all day. You want a garment that covers your head and core like the least flattering 19th century condom imaginable. Something that won't tear when slip and fall while you run for cover.

He got sent out with my dad's backup coat (approximately 20 years out fashion, five sizes too big and smelling as all emergency clothing does) and came home relatively dry. Progress.

The following afternoon, after a very, very quiet brunch, my mother calmly announced she was taking the boys into town, and our exchange student was going to buy a proper rain coat, because she raised a sensible child who would happily translate for his mother and the store employees, and our guest student had been deemed responsible enough act in his own best interests before he came over. She did not want to call this boy's parents to say he ended up in the ER. Certainly not for pneumonia.

Side fact: if something is commonplace in your host country, there's probably a decent version of it that's affordable in a nearby store. The Californian rain jacket had cost a sum that made my parents question his parents' good judgement. The tiny little "reverts into a silly little pillow you can strap around your waist" thing that actually kept him dry for the next week cost about 90% less.

He didn't complain about it, and my parents didn't report that night of drinking to any teacher. The kids were in 12th grade. My parents knew, from personal experience, that all teens will eventually do unspeakably stupid stuff, and getting tyrannical about it only makes them scared to call home when they really fuck up. They did, however, call all the other parents in class to tell them to check their students' rain coats, and that stores X, Y and Z had a deal on in case they were unpleasantly surprised.

Mysteriously, the teachers reported less "whining" during the second week. Less negative feedback from bus drivers about sopping wet seats. Less blue lips and fingers, because 21°C is way colder when you're soaked than when you're dry. Less vacation pictures with wet hair, too.

So listen to your host parents. About stuff that seems obvious, like maybe not starting your morning with a heavy ale, and about stuff that makes zero sense, like packing a rain coat on the sunniest day imaginable.

#exchange student #learn from my mistakes #mind the gap #culture shock #old man yells at cloud #life tips #European weather is a heartless bitch

[umichenginabroad]

Stockholm Week 2: Museum Museum Museum!

Välkommen, again, to my journey in Stockholm! 

I'll get started right away:

1/23 Tue: Visiting Host Family

A lot of snow melted (finally) this week, and it was my first full week of classes. I watched a comedy film I Love Lucy in Glued to the Screen class and talked about political ideas and issues in the Swedish Language and Culture course. I thought the U.S. education system had a lot of discussion built into the curriculum, but the Swedish Language and Culture course had even more discussion integrated into the class. We listened and gave opinions about concepts like nationalism in addition to typical vocabulary and grammar lessons. 

Last week, I was accepted into the Visiting Host Program through DIS and invited for dinner with another student! I had a few hours after class and you know I didn’t miss the opportunity to go shopping ;) I went into Zara instead and tried on a bunch of clothes. Compared to other countries, Zara in Europe has bigger sales and better quality clothes! 

I shopped around the rich stores (Moncler, Gucci, etc) but did not dare go in

On the way to my Visiting Host family, I met up with the other invited student (also from Minnesota! What a coincidence) in the subway station (where I got lost for a good 10 minutes). The hosts were SO NICE and the 5-year-old baby was SO CUTE.

She braided our hair and put a pin as a cherry on top  

They prepared authentic Swedish meatballs, mashed potatoes, lingonberry jam, and white wine. The dessert called princess cake was very pretty and sweet as its name <3

I usually don't like wine but this one was surprisingly good and I’m planning on asking the name of it! 

We had such a good time, and I am excited to see them again soon! 

1/24 Wed: Museum Field Study

Our film class, Glued to the Screen, met altogether at the Swedish National Museum of Science and Technology (Tekniska Museet) at 2 pm on Wednesday. 

This was nothing like I imagined. The museum had three floors and there were endless passages and stairs and rooms that we went through. It mainly covered the history of technology in Sweden and Europe.  

Although two hours of continuous walking was exhausting, we took hundreds of photos and were submerged in activities. In fact, two hours was not enough time to look around the huge museum packed with interactive activities like gaming, cycling, driving, etc.

Air balloon, AI, VR, Phone booths, and so much more

This particular room was full of mirrors!

After the independent tour around the museum, as with all field studies, we had a fika at the wooden cafe in the museum. 

If you are able to go, please order the strawberry smoothie there. It was DELICIOUS!

After the field trip, my friends and I spontaneously, again, headed for more shopping. I did a big Zara haul and so did my friends. 

I can’t stop buying clothes and it’s a problem. The discounts aren’t helping either :(

1/25 Thu: Sour Day

Because I had four hours in between classes on Thursday, I killed time in the library in the DIS building (was going to work on homework but inevitably fell asleep for a while). Then, with the goal of waking up, I headed to a bigger ICA supermarket. Aaaand as you could’ve imagined I couldn’t pass by the snacks corner without buying some. I got a wide range of chocolate and jellies.

Afterward, I went back to DIS to actually do homework. I got bored after a few minutes; I took out the chocolate bag. The moment I took a bite of a round chocolate ball, I stopped biting. Not voluntarily, but forcefully. There was a very hard, blue ball inside the chocolate cover. With hesitation, I tried licking the exposed side and regretted my choice immediately. It was extremely salty AND sour. 

I learned the hard way that I should read the descriptions before putting all kinds of chocolate in the goodie bag.

1/26 Fri: Busy Busy Friday

Friday was another thrift day for me. DIS leads led us and showed us around the secondhand stores in Zinkensdamm. The high-end vintage store Beyond Retro sold clothes for 500 Krona (~$50) while the more common stores like Myrorna and Stockholm Stadsmission had things for 50 Kr (~$5). The latter ones were more of my style. 

For dinner, I finally had MAX. It is a Swedish burger chain that has tons of menus including Vegan and Vegetarian options. I tried the advertised burger meal with the sweet potato fries on the side. The burger was as good as I was told by the locals. I’m definitely going back to try other burgers and smoothies!

We faced an unexpected amount of snow on the way back home but it was so pretty that I forgave the weather. 

My hair was soaking wet

That same night, my friends living in a different student apartment came to Södermalm to try out the bars here. We sat down and talked and had a couple of drinks together to end the night <3 

1/27 Sat: More Museum Trips

We made it to the Banksy Museum just to find out that the tickets for that day and the next day were sold out already. To make sure this doesn’t happen again, we booked the tickets for next week on the spot. The Fotografiska museum, which was conveniently right next door, compelled us in. We got a student discount (199 Kr ~$19.90) and separately wandered around the museum to appreciate each artwork. My favorite ones were Rinko Kawauchi’s photo collection located on the top floor. 

The artwork reminded me of words like ethereal, surreal, serendipity

We couldn’t walk past the photo booth either! It was $6, which was not as expensive as the ones found in the subway ($9.99). 

The camera started shooting right after we paid, so you can see us caught off guard in the first frame. I got the black and white version and my friend took the colored one.

But aren’t we so cute <;3

Even the sky on the way back home was gorgeous.

1/28 Sun: Flea Market!

DIS notified students about the weekend flea market and I recruited people to go with me as soon as I saw the information. 

There were tens and hundreds of people selling and buying clothes and home goods for a good price!

I got a jacket, 5 gold rings, a sweater, shorts, and a mesh top for a total of 274 Kr, which is about 27 dollars. The flea market was a cheaper and higher quality version of a thrift store and I absolutely loved it. Do you see a trend here ;)

We were craving pastries later on so we stopped at Gamla Stan to grab some before going home.

Selfie!

As people with high standards, we inspected more than five cafes to find the perfect place that met our needs. A bakery called PANEM was our last stop, and the desserts there were phenomenal even at a reasonable price. 

I got a mango mousse cake and it was the best dessert I’ve had in Stockholm so far!!!

This concludes my second week in Stockholm. Stay tuned for more adventures from me!

Tack så mycket, 

Jiwoo Kim 

Chemical Engineering

DIS Study Abroad in Stockholm, Sweden

#UmichEnginAbroad #IPEStockholm #JiwooKim #IPEWinter24 #Sweden

[harapeveco]

any tips for writing fanfics? (or writing in general?) 😔

Hmmm well I’m not really an expert when it comes to writing tbh so idk if this is gonna help that much but for the little experience I have ig I can suggest some things?

Btw these are only fanfic related bc surprisingly enough writing a story and a fic is not the same LMAO

Anyways here are some tips!

I think the first thing you should consider is what your fic is gonna be about. It can be something very plot heavy or plotless whatever you feel more comfy with!

Write about what you want to read! You want to read about your fave dying horribly? Write it! You want to read about your ship kissing? Write it! You want to read about your fave having an existential crisis while their partner comforts them? Write it! Just write what you want to read! Do it! Do it!

I think it’s important to note that when you write fics it’s not about doing it for others, what I mean with this is that yeh sharing them and getting the engagement is rewarding as hell I love seeing them kudos and comments on my fics but remember that you are actually writing them for yourself bc you are writing about what you like and makes you go uwah. If you write thinking about the expectations or wants of others the writing just won’t come out or you will struggle with it…so! Write what you want! It’s your story! Indulge in it! (As long as it’s not problematic)

I think this one is obvious but you need to read fics and books before you start writing, this really helps with vocabulary and how to describe certain things too. I’ve used a lot of fics and even some books (the ones I was forced to read at school) for reference on how to describe certain situations

Sometimes you may feel your writing is not good enough but there’s always gonna be someone out there who likes it. Also don’t feel bad if you write about a topic that has be written about before, readers will be happy to be fed with the same content if that means they have more options, for example you want to write about your ship kissing but there are 69 fics about that? Trust me bestie we will need a 70th fic on that list

Cliches aren’t as bad as everyone makes them out to be! As long as you have original ideas to throw into the mix cliches can be quite enjoyable!

Writing is like drawing it’s all about practicing. Maybe you will feel like the first few fics will come out with some mistakes or even have an awkward writing but that’s oks! It’s something you learn the more you do it

Research is important no matter how unimportant something can be, for example, most of my fics take place in japan so ofc I have to do my research on some Japanese things. A few examples of this can be like if you want the character to drive you have to keep in mind the legal age for driving in the country it takes place, if you want them to drink you need to know the legal age, if there’s an emergency and they need to call an emergency line you need to know the number…they are really small things but they help a lot making it believable. I remember I wrote this oneshot about reinochi on a supermarket and I had to research the average prices for food in Tokyo (bc apparently prices are different in every prefecture) to make the fic work. Research can be really fun too if you are writing about a topic you like!

Try also not too make the characters too ooc or indulge too much on your headcanons. The reason why people want to read fics it’s bc they want to see their guy put into a situation but if you change their personality too much and write them using your headcanons as a base that’s not the guy the readers know that’s a different person. Now I’m not saying you can’t include headcanons you sure can but make sure they aren’t the whole center of it but more like a passing comment or something they do in a scene or two but like don’t make it the whole focus

This is a pet peeve of mine so take this one with a grain of salt sjfjjdjf but try not to repeat words in the same paragraph. To me at least it can be very confusing, in this case I recommend you Thesaurus.com! It’s has both synonyms and antonyms

Related but if you have trouble making your writing sound good I recommend using Quillbot! It’s a page that paraphrase paragraphs and can even help you make them sound more fancy! Since I write in Spanish and then copy paste the writing into a translator some sentences end up sounding awkward so this thing has helped me a lot THO never put dialogue on it it will make it sound awkward as hell

Something that can help a lot too is a beta reader! If you don’t know what that is it’s basically a person who reads your fic to point out grammar mistakes or tell you if some things on the story need changes. Make sure you ask a person you trust tho! I’ve heard stories of beta readers who have stolen the fics their were supposed to help fix 😔😔😔

Outlines are a good idea too! Something I do when planning multichapter fics is to write a general summary of what I want the story to be about and then write mini summaries for each chapter. Keep in mind the first outline won’t be perfect and it could change over time or even be dropped entirely, it’s part of the process so don’t feel bad if you have to give it up to make another one

This is more for multichapters but writing is a long process and it takes time. Take as much as you need to finish your story even if it takes years, don’t let others pressure you bc then the writing won’t come out. If you don’t feel like updating it rn you can do it later and your readers will understand that, if they don’t then don’t listen to them, after all they are getting the content for free so they better wait for it

It’s good to also write things that are out of your comfort zone every once in a while, that way you will know what works for you, what you like, etc

If you are gonna post on ao3 remember to tag everything! The tagging system exist so people know what they want to read and what they want to avoid so make sure to check every topic you are going to write about so you can tag it properly! A thing I do with tags is that for example my fic is about death and I want to tag it with it I put “death” on the tagging thing and every tag that contains the word “death” will appear there. This is helpful if you need more specific tags

I feel this one is the most important but you will definitely experience writer’s block, you will feel burnt out and frustration and that’s oks just take it easy and take your time with it. If you force yourself to make more chapters or making more oneshots without really feeling it they won’t come out the way you want them to which will make you more frustrated. Take some time off of writing if needed

And last but not least DO NOT let people tell you how to write your story. You can take suggestions sure but write what you envisioned, don’t let readers tell you what you should write and what you should change for them bc the story is for you and what you want

That’s honestly all I can think about! Idk if this is helpful or not but I hope it can at least give you an idea! And if you want feel free to send me your fic when it’s done! I would love to read it! uwu

#answered ask #im sorry this ended being too long djfjjekf #btw i said it at the beginning but I’ll say it again im not an expert all of this is based on my experiences

[strawberrysatellite]

don’t be a stranger

inspired by scott street- phoebe bridgers

word count: 4.6k

Y/N never liked living in cities.

When she had to move away from home for uni, she dreaded it. Every minute of her last year in sixth form, she lived with this cloud over her head. This great big black cloud. One so full of loneliness and anxiety that she knew would burst the moment she finished school and was forced to leave the only place of comfort she had ever known. A tsunami of homesickness that would crash over her in catastrophic tides every time she laughed with friends, as if the moon saw her struggles and was trying to convince her to stay, controlling these tide-like feelings encompassing her. Or when she went to the movies with her mum. Or made her little brother a cup of tea. She knew that one day, it would be the last time she did those things. And that thought ruined her.

When she did eventually move away, she left with heavy feet and an even heavier mind. A car full of belongings packed up to move to a busy, overcrowded, polluted concrete jungle. A heartless, ticking machine of a place. Nothing like the tiny town she had grown up in that still had weekly markets and the postman knew her entire family by name. Her life had been packed up into boxes, leaving no trace of her in the home she once knew.

The only home she had ever known.

As soon as her degree had finished, she knew she had to move back home. She had tried for a month or two to stick it out in the big city, thinking it might have just been her nerves that convinced her she wasn’t fit for the city life, but she knew in her heart she didn’t belong there.

She belonged in her mum’s kitchen. At the worn dinner table with scratches and pen marks from her younger self’s clumsy hands. She belonged on her nan’s couch. The one she had had since Y/N was born, and where Y/N’s wonky pillow that she had made in a textiles class years ago (which was barely half-stuffed and was slightly misshapen due to- again- her clumsy hands and the unreasonably large fabric scissors that were much too heavy for an 11 year old to use) still sat pride of place. She belonged to the fields next to the out of use windmill, a 10 minute walk from her home. The fields where she would run and laze in the sun, napping until she could feel the slight chill the moon brought with her, waking up to grass in her hair and a pink flush over the bridge of her nose.

That was where she and Harry differed.

Harry was never one for small-town living. His curly head was always wrapped up in some daydream. Dreams of living on the other side of the world, making a name for himself. Meaning something to people. Proving himself.

He couldn’t wait to leave home. Not to say that he didn’t love his mum’s house and her slightly flattened rug in the exact spot he napped each afternoon. Or the windowsill in his room where he would sit with his headphones in and dream. Of a bigger life. Something bigger than he could ever imagine.

He supposes it was luck that granted him that sort of life. One little audition and he’s suddenly fulfilling everything he had ever wanted and more. He got his big life. He meant something to people. He sells out shows every night. People know his name. He gets to do what he loves every day. Not many people could say that.

Y/N and Harry were always inseparable. From the minute they were delivered into the world, the two were attached at the hip. Where one went, the other followed. There was nothing about one that the other didn’t know about. The word ‘secrets’ wasn’t in their vocabulary.

Y/N knew all about Harry’s dreams. She supported him in all of them. Always. But even she couldn’t have predicted the magnitude that would be Harry Styles. The curly-headed boy she grew up with now the same face she saw in the supermarket, dashed across every magazine.

When Harry first got that incredible news on the day of his audition, she was the first one he called. His tears were audible in his voice, throat claggy with unadulterated happiness. This was what he had always wanted. His dreams were becoming his reality.

The two never imagined they would ever be separated. Even when Y/N went to uni and Harry was somewhere on a different continent playing sold out shows to thousands every night, they still spoke. Phone calls, messages, letters, pictures, postcards. Any feasible means of contact, the duo kept.

Until. The contact just..stopped.

The letters dwindled. Phone calls left unanswered. Voicemail boxes full and emails left unopened. Neither knew when or why it happened. They just did.

Y/N moved back home, getting herself a little cottage that reminded her so much of her nan’s, just on the outskirts of her town, right next to those fields she would- and frequently does now she is able to- snooze in as a young girl. She lives a simple life, working at the florist shop she opened in the heart of the town square. It’s a simple life, but one she has always wanted. The thought of ever moving back to the city quite frankly makes her skin crawl. Her tiny ragdoll kitten, Bowie, lived in her tiny cottage with her, his favourite spot to stretch out and nap in the house being on her giant oriental rug. A worn patch had appeared as a result of his daily afternoon naps.

She still speaks to everyone in the village- was kind of forced to because of her job and how many people trecked themselves through her shop door everyday. Almost every Sunday, Harry’s mum would appear in the doorframe, the slightly rusted bell jingling above her head. Y/N always thinks that sound matches how her stomach feels when she sees Harry’s mum’s smile. It’s the exact one he wore at all times.

The two always make small talk when she visits the shop. Y/N asks about Harry and Gemma and Anne’s cats, Anne asks about Y/N’s mum and Bowie. It’s never awkward per say, but they’re both aware there’s something unspoken there. It’s not solid enough to call it a tension or a problem. Not something that hinders their conversations. They find it in the deep breaths they take before speaking, the way Y/N’s fingers fumble every damn time Anne mentions Harry’s name.

She doesn’t know why she’s so bothered. Evidently, Harry never asks about her since Anne never mentions anything about it. She should be happy about that. The fact that Harry is so focused on his dreams and making the name for himself that he always wanted.

It shouldn’t sting as much as it does. That he just forgot her.

And yes, the phone works both ways. But.

It was always her messages left unread. Her phone calls that went to voicemail. Her letters that came back voided, as if he had changed his address and hadn’t bothered to tell her. It was her heart that was broken every time he ignored her.

And sure, maybe it wasn’t on purpose. The Harry she knew would never go out of his way to purposefully ignore and hurt her. But.

It sure felt like it.

Now, Harry lies awake in his bed. He’s currently in the middle of making the band’s 5th studio album, their first one as a group of four. He doesn’t know why he does it. Maybe it’s the fact that one of his close friends just left the band they had been in for most of their teenage years. Maybe it’s the fact that his friend’s departure had flicked a switch in his brain and forced the last 5 years to hit him in the face all at once.

The truth was, Harry was tired.

He had been going non-stop for five years now. Tour after tour, album after album. Recording albums in their tour bus because there wasn’t enough time between tours to stop and record an album in a studio. Recording songs in hotel rooms, in makeshift sound booths connected to shitty hotel wifi. He used to think that was the cool thing about the albums. That they were recorded in hundreds of different places.

He sees now that it was too much. Too much for a 16 year old boy to suddenly step into the shoes of a world famous pop star. Never being in the same country for more than a month in his most crucial, formative years fucked him up in ways he didn’t even want to think about for fear of spiralling.

Lying in his bed in his apartment in New York, on the rare occasion he had a few weeks to himself before he had to get right back to recording and shows and the whole circus, he pulls out his phone and opens Instagram. He doesn’t know exactly why he does it but he types in a name he hasn’t so much as thought about in at least 3 years. And he feels immense guilt for this, yes, but he does it anyway. Maybe finding her and seeing she’s still doing okay will placate him in some way. He hopes.

It’s not hard to find her- he would know her face anywhere even if he doesn’t think of her all that much. Her feed isn’t the most interesting in the world. But, it’s so her. A couple pictures of a white kitten, a filtered snap of a familiar windmill, countless bundles of flowers, the odd selfie with her ever present smattering of freckles still visible along the bridge of her nose. It’s not until he gets a bit further down her page that his stomach truly does start to bubble with guilt. A picture of her in her cap and gown, a scroll of paper clutched between her hands and her mum stood beside her. His own mum stood on her other side.

God, how had he missed that.

Ever since they were young, she had been the brainy one. School came to her like second nature. He had never in his life met someone so intelligent and wondrously her. And Harry had met a lot of people in his lifetime. They used to speak about university as if it was some made up land, far into the future.

And now here they were. 3 years after her graduation and he had missed it. Never even congratulated her. He vaguely remembers his mum saying something over the phone about her and university, but he figures it must have been in the middle of one his tour legs and he had immediately forgotten the news as soon as he was told, not even registering the words due to his brain being so overloaded with other things.

He doesn’t regret joining the band. Some of the memories he’s made are irreplaceable. His regret lies in the fact that he left his best friend behind. The one person who knew him better than anyone.

He had just…forgotten her.

He feels ashamed when he thinks of her name now. As if just the thought of her would regurgitate his past mistakes and force him to face them head on.

Guilt weighs heavy on his conscience, and it’s this that makes him spring into action. Lying in his bed, the nighttime sounds of NYC and helicopters over his head playing in a loop, he books the next flight home.

His first step back on home soil (literally- a majority of the roads in the town are just worn down pathways instead of actual tarmac roads) is one filled with unfiltered anxiety. He knows exactly what he left behind. He knows how much he’s changed from that cheeky 16 year old boy that left. Now, he’s a 22 year old grown man.

The huge black range rover he parked on the side of the road looks so out of place compared to the rest of the village. It’s as if he’d left modern civilisation and stepped back in time. So different to anything he’s known for the last 5 almost 6 years. It’s hard for him to believe he ever lived here, never mind was born and grew up here.

Walking through the one main street in town, he’s hit in the face with nostalgia.

Memories he can’t believe he ever forgot about.

Rushing down to the old-fashioned sweet shop after school to spend his pocket money. Racing home on his bicycle to catch a rerun of Life on Mars after an evening spent working at the bakery, helping the old ladies pack their baked goods. Buying his first ever album on CD (Shania Twain, obviously) at the family owned music shop next to the corner shop. Meeting up with Y/N and a few of their other mates every Friday after school to walk down to the field by the old windmill, both of them packing snacks and water bottles so they wouldn’t have to leave the field until they were forced out by the sweep of nightfall and the premise of a hot meal on the dinner table.

Now, he feels like a stranger. Like that boy with those memories wasn’t even him. Like he’s watching someone else’s childhood play out in his head, a VHS warped by time and played so many times that the tape ejects. A polaroid camera whose film has been sun damaged and now has that kind of hazy quality, not quite accurate to how it looked in real life.

He’s a stranger in his own home.

He’s ashamed.

Y/N’s working her usual shift at the shop. Just like any other Saturday, she begins by taking stock of what she has and what she needs, ordering new shipments and sending out business emails, checking orders to make sure she hasn’t kept anyone waiting too long for their flowers. It feels like any other Saturday. Until. It doesn’t.

An awful pit forms in her stomach, as if warning her about a danger she can’t yet identify. Ignoring it seems impossible- her mum had always told her to trust her gut feelings. Her hands shake and she can’t seem to get them to bend to her will, her brain so caught up in whatever this sludgy feeling is that it refuses to allow her limbs to do what she wants. Deciding that what she needs is a quick moment of fresh air, she manages to coax her legs into moving her outside despite them moving at a slower pace, as if stuck in invisible quick sand, slowly sinking into the floor and submerging her lungs with every movement.

What she doesn’t expect is Anne to be standing on the other side of the door, a surprised smile on her face as if she too hadn’t been expecting Y/N to emerge at that moment.

That bloody smile sends another wave of black goop around Y/N’s stomach. A perfectly imperfect grin that also belongs to a certain bunny-toothed boy. Well, man now.

If Anne notices Y/N’s slight wince and momentary hesitation to smile, she doesn’t say anything and instead begins a conversation that Y/N has to put all her effort into concentrating on, “Oh, hi, sweetheart. Fabulous timing. I was just popping round to tell you that your mum’s round at mine having a cuppa if you wanted to join. Got a bit of catching up to do and we thought you’d want to join, hm?”

Y/N could kiss Anne right now. A cuppa with two of her favourite people sounds like heaven- as if they could sense what was happening and knew exactly what to do to make her feel better. Maybe once she sees that everything is okay, this feeling in her stomach will subside. She hopes.

“I would love to, just gimme a sec to shut up and I’ll be right over,” Y/N smiles gratefully and gives Anne a short hug, telling her to be safe and that she won’t be too long.

The walk to the Twist house is exactly what she needs. It’s not too long that her feet start to hurt in her work shoes, but it’s long enough that she’s able to take some deep breaths and rid her mind of that sickly feeling. It used to be a lot shorter of a walk until Harry began his career, only a couple of minutes down the road from her mum’s. She supposes that tiny distance between them growing up was another factor in their friendship.

Once Harry began making serious money in the band, he bought his mum a house, completely clearing her of any debts or mortgages. She wanted to stay in the village since she had grown up there as a little girl herself, and she still wanted to act as a kind of home base for Harry, so he had gotten her a bigger cottage with her own piece of land and a big driveway. The garden was constantly in bloom, and it was big enough that he even got her an industrial lawnmower type thing that he would ride about on on the rare occasions he used to come home. He hasn’t been home for a while.

The minute Y/N steps through the threshold of the house, that awful sludgy feeling returns. It’s a combination of that familiar, masculine scent she remembers a certain person using throughout his teenage years, the echo of a baritone voice from the living room just behind the entrance way, and the thick woollen trench coat that she knows doesn’t belong to Anne or her mum hung on the coat hooks by the door. Just next to the gallery wall full of family pictures of Harry, Gemma, Anne, and Y/N. The same coat visible in the photos from Gemma’s graduation. Harry’s coat.

Her breath is immediately lodged in her throat, a tiny gasp that seems to echo in the tiny entrance way of the house and reverberates around her. A gasp that effectively cuts off that baritone voice and silences the whole house.

“Y/N? Is that you, love?”, Anne’s voice calls from the living room and the shuffling of slippers along hardwood floor can be heard before her head pops round the doorframe, that same smile carved into her face. “There you are, lovie. Was starting to think you got lost. Come in, come in. I’ll get you a cuppa sorted.”

Y/N has half the mind to turn around and scarper. She doesn’t think she’s strong enough right now to face the guest in the living room. She knows now what that horrible rock in her stomach all day has been for, as if her soul sensed his before she even knew he was here. But she can’t do that to Anne, so she slips her boots off and hooks her coat up next to his trench coat, unsteadily ambling to the living room.

At first, she doesn’t see his face. Just the back of his head, those ever-present curls now past his shoulders and resting on the button-up shirts he seems to love now. His armchair is the one facing away from the doorway, giving Y/N an extra second before he turns around that she grasps onto like a buoy out in the ocean, the only thing keeping her afloat in the maelstrom of emotions surrounding her and threatening to drag her under.

When he does turn around, she feels the wind being physically knocked out of her. His face is a punch to the sternum but simultaneously a hug after a long week. His presence stings like a papercut and soothes like the touch of a lover. His eyes are jaded fragments of precious metals too toxic to touch, and they are the beaming lights guiding sailors to safety. He is both the sun and the rain creating a vibrant display of fragmented light.

He’s home.

“Hi, Berry.” His voice is weak- a stark contrast to the belting voice and confidence he projects on stage. He performs to thousands of people no bother every night, and yet he can’t summon enough confidence to speak above a whisper to the only person who has and ever will truly know him.

A part of her crumbles at the nickname he uses. So casually, almost cruelly. It’s a moniker she was dubbed by him from the youngest of ages; whenever he saw her, she would be eating strawberries, every perfume she used would contain notes of strawberry- even her lip glosses were always strawberry scented.

“Hi.”

At that moment, Anne shuffles through the doorway, “Oh, good- you two are talking yeah? Why don’t you go take a walk, hm? I’m sure there’s lots you’ll want to catch up on. Leave me and Y/N’s mum to have a chat.” Despite Y/N being slightly pissed that she wasn’t told Harry was home and would be here, she can’t find it in herself to be angry for much longer when Anne speaks with that calming voice and comforting smile.

“Um…yeah, sure. We’ll go round by the old windmill?” Harry is the one to offer this up, a peaceful olive branch of sorts.

“Sure- you remember where it is, yeah?” Y/N’s response isn’t meant to sting as much as it does. But he can’t help but feel wounded at the fact that she thinks he would just forget. It was their place. Theirs. Harry and Y/N’s. How could he possibly forget that? He could forget anything else- every word to his songs, how to drive, how to speak, hell, he could go blind and deaf- but he would always remember that field and the sound of her voice like the back of his hand.

“Of course I do.” Her head just nods at this and she turns back around to retrieve her shoes and coat.

“Hey. Sunshine?”, Y/N’s mum stops him before he follows after her, “Go easy on her, yeah? I know you didn’t mean it but you two not speaking really did a number on her. She’s a lot more fragile than she was. Be gentle with her. And be gentle on yourself.” Her smile is the exact same as the girl’s in the hallway. He ducks his head in a guilty nod and makes his way out of the house, collecting his coat and realising Y/N must be already outside waiting for him.

The walk has been eerily silent so far. The whole premise was to catch up and talk, but neither of the two can summon enough courage to spit anything out, both in fear of disrupting the somewhat civil tension between them. It’s so unlike what they used to be. There was never a silent moment between the two. One of them always filling every gap in conversation like they couldn’t stand not hearing each other’s voices. She used to say comfortable silence was overrated anyway.

It isn’t until they reach the very edge of their field that Harry opens his mouth, not able to stand this unfamiliar silence any longer.

“So you moved back after uni?” He wants to smack himself for asking such a stupid, obvious question.

“Uh..yeah, I did. Never really liked living in the city. Came back and opened the little florists in town.” Her reply is laced with pride. She should be, he thinks. Out of everyone he’s ever met, she deserves to be proud of herself.

“M’proud of you. Can’t be easy- having your own business n’everything.”

“It’s not the easiest thing in the world, but I love it and it’s worth it.” She nods to herself, keeping her eyes focused on the floor. She’s disguising this lack of eye contact as just watching where she’s going, but they both know she knows her way through every inch of this field like she knows herself.

“Listen, Y/N- I’m sorry for not being there at your graduation. I know how much it meant to you. I can’t apologise enough- I’m… m’ashamed.” His brows furrow in disgust at his own actions, as if he can’t possibly fathom why on earth past him wouldn’t have gone.

Her reply is instantaneous, as if she knew his apology was coming and didn’t want him to, “No, don’t be daft. It was a while ago n’I know how busy you must be with the band and all. Don’t worry about it.”

It’s silent for a few moments after this, both of their feet dragging them through the overgrown grass, almost like magnets leading them subconsciously to the windmill proudly standing in the middle of the field. A constant in a life full of temporaries.

“Your mum told me Adrien got his degree. Political science? Suits him.” Harry’s words are soft, as though if he speaks any louder, he’ll disrupt the balance of time and the universe will shatter at his feet.

Her laugh is self-deprecating and filled with a heavy sigh, “Yeah, couple months ago now. Always was more politically minded than us, wasn’t he?”

“Makes me feel old, honestly.” His own smile is small, too afraid of big emotions and throwing her off.

Another sarcastic chuckle erupts from her mouth, “What does that make me?”

“Hey, you remember when we were in school? That god awful band we had? What was it…white something or other,” He speaks fondly, reminiscent of what used to be.

“Oh, god. White Eskimo?” Her smile grows at this, her own head full of the same memories as his.

“Yes! That’s the one. We were horrendous. I remember you weren’t half bad, though. You still play the drums?”

“Jesus, no. Gave up on that a while ago. Far too much shit to carry around everywhere. Bradley and Robbie are getting married now, you know? What about you- how’s the band?” She asks, as if she hasn’t been there for every moment of his career, cheering him on silently from thousands of miles away.

He’s suddenly more solemn at this, “Erm, I’m sure you saw about Zayn leaving. That hit us all pretty hard. Just trying to carry on and come out the other side, really.”

It’s silent again for a while after this. Neither of them know where to go from here. By now, they’ve reached the windmill and decide to sit down against it. If Y/N looks hard enough for it, she knows she’ll find their initials carved into it somewhere.

At least if they don’t make it through this, their names will always be here beside each other, proof that they were once inseparable. Proof that they existed and meant something to each other.

This quiet time isn’t like the others. It feels like the closing of a book; a dog-eared, well-loved book, flipped through so many times it’s worn down by the oil from fingertips. It’s the conclusion to everything. The sound of his bicycle bell as he rushes to her house after school. The sound of the train whistle as he left home for his audition. He left home and never came back.

The silence once again becomes unbearable for Harry, “I feel like I can never stop apologising to you. But, I want you to know that I am so, so sorry for what happened between us. I never ever meant to hurt you. I was just…busy. If that’s even an excuse. I was falling asleep in one country and waking up in another, trying to keep myself level-headed enough to play shows and just. I really don’t have a good enough excuse. Just know that I will never regret anything more than letting us go.” His voice shakes through all of his words, chest rapidly expanding and contracting under the tonne weight of his words.

Y/N takes a few moments to process his words. In all honesty, she understands. She will never be able to imagine how much pressure he must be under.

She just wishes him fulfilling his dreams hadn’t cost her her best friend.

She misses her best friend.

“It’s…it’s okay. Really, Harry. I made peace with it a long time ago. Our chapter is over. And that’s okay. I will always be so proud of you. In whatever you do. Just…don’t be a stranger.”

decided to start posting my writing on here :)

i have this over on my wattpad but i’m on here more so it only made sense!!

#harry styles #x yn #scott street #music #harry x yn

[thalia-pages]

May study challenge Day 16

In the morning I have had an exam in German. In the middle of it I started to feel not so good physically, and my vocabulary was really poor. As I studied till 2 am, I was really tired today at work. Right now I keep researching on some working task while at home. A bit of stress as tomorrow I have to discuss the task with my boss.

P.S. I didn't wash up, left my room in a mess to buy the flowers for the apartment owner in the morning, she has a birthday today. Was proud of myself as I managed to find fresh flowers in the depth of the flowers stand in the supermarket.

#studblr #study aesthetic #studyspiration #study motivation #studyspo #study challenge

[grandhotelabyss]

Haven’t read it in full since I was a teen. Passages still linger, from both poem—

Now I shall speak of evil as none has Spoken before. I loathe such things as jazz; The white-hosed moron torturing a black Bull, rayed with red; abstractist bric-a-brac; Primitivist folk-masks; progressive schools; Music in supermarkets; swimming pools; Brutes, bores, class-conscious Philistines, Freud, Marx, Fake thinkers, puffed-up poets, frauds and sharks.

—and prose—

“Speaking of novels,” I said, “you remember we decided once, you, your husband and I, that Proust’s rough masterpiece was a huge, ghoulish fairy tale, an asparagus dream, totally unconnected with any possible people in any historical France, a sexual travestissement and a colossal farce, the vocabulary of genius and its poetry, but no more, impossibly rude hostesses, please let me speak, and even ruder guests, mechanical Dostoevskian rows and Tolstoian nuances of snobbishness repeated and expanded to an unsufferable length, adorable seascapes, melting avenues, no, do not interrupt me, light and shade effects rivaling those of the greatest English poets, a flora of metaphors, described—by Cocteau, I think—as ‘a mirage of suspended gardens,’ and, I have not yet finished, an absurd, rubber-and-wire romance between a blond young blackguard (the fictitious Marcel), and an improbable jeune fille who has a pasted-on bosom, Vronski’s (and Lyovin’s) thick neck, and a cupid’s buttocks for cheeks; but—and now let me finish sweetly—we were wrong, Sybil, we were wrong in denying our little beau ténébreux the capacity of evoking ‘human interest’: it is there, it is there—maybe a rather eighteenth-centuryish, or even seventeenth-centuryish, brand, but it is there. Please, dip or redip, spider, into this book [offering it], you will find a pretty marker in it bought in France, I want John to keep it. Au revoir, Sybil, I must go now. I think my telephone is ringing.”

—but I couldn’t say anything more profound about it just now. I do love the world it creates. I don’t love the way its gamesmanship attracts dubious fan theories even from experts (when I was reading it as a teen I also read Boyd’s book about the ghosts of John and Hazel helping Kinbote to compose). Probably best to focus on the beauty and the pathos: 

And still Old Pan would call from every painted hill, And still the demons of our pity spoke: No lips would share the lipstick of her smoke.... 

But then I like a lot of writers our chessmaster and lepidopterist did not: Dostoevsky, Mann, Faulkner. Thanks for the question!

#vladimir nabokov #literature #literary criticism #poetry #postmodern literature

[nordic-language-love]

日本のボキャブラリ（２２年６月９日） Japanese Vocabulary (09.06.22)

Some more random words I’ve recently learned/been asked to learn by my tutor!

日本語 | norsk | english

帰る（かえる）| å dra hjem | to go home

触る（さわる）| å ta på | to touch

持ってきる （もってきる）| å ta med, å bringe | to bring

スーパー | supermarket (n) | supermarket

駅（えき）| stasjon (m) | station

飛行機（ひこうき）| fly (n) | plane

船（ふね）| skip (n) | ship

電車（でんしゃ）| tog (n) | train

地下鉄（ちかてつ）| t-bane (m) | subway, metro, underground

バス | buss (m) | bus

タクシー | taxi (m), drosje (m) | taxi

自転車（じてんしゃ）| sykkel (m) | bicycle

家族（かぞく）| familie (m) | family

一人で（ひとりで）| alene | alone

Please let me know if there are any mistakes!

#japanese langblr #learning japanese #日本語 #japanese #norwegian langblr #learning norwegian #jeg lærer meg norsk