"Oh My Math Teacher On The News Wanted For Mass Murder. Who Said Math Teachers Are Boring?"

Ideas are flowing ✨️

I might be out of my writing slump

Morning glow✨⭐️

Yves Saint Laurent - Spring 1984 Couture

This is something Xavier would say, in general Xavier is so Vincent coded...

NOW THIS SCENE HIS LAUGHHH

now which one of y’all’s middle aged white daddy is voicing Aki

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE — AND THEIR HOBBIES IN FREE HOURS.

amongst the many hobbies of your beautiful hard working husband, one of them stood out the most: racing. zayne drives with such grace, he probably would have received 16 missed calls from whole cast of fast furious asking him to be part of the next movie. treating patients with such patience by day, racing by night… what a man! He can afford it after all, so why not? he is the type to make you fresh orange juice with pulp in the morning and then go outside drift so effortlessly, it makes professional racers question their entire careers. he doesn't even need a coach—he learns purely through vibes and sheer elegance. he steps into a car, smells the air, analyses, feels it, does a couple of stretches, and suddenly it's like watching poetry in motion. you have no idea how he does it, you're not about to question a racer who hugs the apex like it's his favourite granny-who can explode- and still flips the softest, fluffiest pancakes before the next shift in hospital.

xavier, on the other hand, has the raw power for basketball but none of the coordination. you made him join the basketball club, this man had to do something sportif after all! though he got very passionate about basketball he could not play. his idea of a "drabble" is launching the ball into another building, and if you ask him to do a serve, he’ll literally twerk- he is serving after all?

he gets the hang of it eventually—almost a full year later, when everyone else has already moved on to their next hobby. now he’s just waiting for the basketball season to come back so he can finally convince everyone to play with him again. poor thing. you can find him standing outside the court with his basketball, looking like a stray dog waiting to be let inside.

sylus is… passionate about tennis. let's just leave it at that. he swings the racket like he's trying to destroy all his enemies along with it, and any unfortunate soul who dares to play against him ends up fearing for their life. And no, zendaya would NOT call him to join the cast of next challengers movie- he will still arrange it- every ball he hits sounds like gunfire, and the courts have a dedicated "sylus damage fund" because he’s broken so many rackets, fences, and possibly the willpower of a few umpires. he can not play, but he doesn't believe in "low peasant" talk - the racket he accidently sended to the orbit made scientists go insane. news headlines for the next month were "A RACKET SPOTTED IN SPACE!! ALIENS ARE REAL?!"

there’s also rafayel. or "rafayel-the-fashion" as he calls himself. the man who buys everything-everything- that is trending, both for you and himself. "We gotta slay honey" he tells you while buying latest glamour lois luivitton purses-not that you complaining. The man, the artist, the diva- he feels the aesthetic whenever he walks to any room and he adjusts to it, he buys closes which match with room design, he slayes.

"Design is soo gnarly an-" and now as soon as his art editor who he asked politely-made-to come to his house at 3am to discuss his new art piece he straight away indulges in description of the piece, untill he spots something, he stops, he squints, he watches, he observes- he notices something even lucifer would have diarrhea out of from.

"IS THAT FAKE CHANEL ON YOU?!" he shrieked in utter horror, falling to the nearest sofa, clutching to his chest. He couldn't believe it, he couldn't! the shear audacity! To come into his house in....in....this!- it is 3 am -"oh, I think I am having have heart attack or heart dead whatever you people call it!" he wailed "this is,th- I HOPE SOMEOME FARTS INTO YOUR BREATHING MACHINE WHEN YOU GET OLDER, YOU FASHION TERRORIST!!"

someone actually did fart into editors breathing machine years later- rafayel made sure of it.....

and finally, there's caleb, apart from his many hundred jet models collection, he buys you underwear. now, when he met you in university he knew- knew that he needs to be in charge of your underwear department. Though he restricted himself in takeover of such honourable post until you two got married.

you lost him in the mall? no, you didn't, he is in lingerie section, nodding at some cheetah print lingerie's like it was some soldiers doing admirable job in serving their country. he doesn't even ask for help, he knows. he knows what he is buying, what size he is buying, he feels it and he is not embarrassed, no. this man watched so many documentaries on "art of lingerie" you are surprised he doesn't even open his own business. you kind of found it cute until he crossed- bended- the line like now with his: "Baby maybe we just need to take one cup bigger so i can put my hands through it, yeah?"- people turned around passing by, eyes wide, desperately trying to not make eye contact.

your eye twitched, hell you think even you whole brain twitched. with voice which could be mistakenly taken for sweet you smiled "Caleb?"

"Yes, pipsqueak?"

"I have a gun on me"

"Yes. pipsqueak." though his poker face didn't match the way he clutched the bra of your size from the section, size bigger magically disappearing in air - he threw it across the shop, if he doesn't see it nobody sees it..

@uzmacchiato dividers!

Newt: when i said “bring me back something from the beach” i meant like a seashell

Thomas, struggling to hold a seagull in a bag: well you didn’t fucking say that, did you

THE RINGSSSS ...

Omg jean 🤯