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the idea that every summer will be as hot if not hotter than this for the rest of my life is unbearable i need to (remembers suicide jokes are bad for my mental health) murder an oil executive
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I miss when ads were a single click and then they’re gone. Now every ad has a minimum of three phases where you watch a video, exit the still frame of fake gameplay, and then exit the app download. That doesn’t even touch on the ones that forcibly take you to another app after opening a tab in safari without you ever touching the screen.
I hate advertising. I hate that you can’t do anything without companies jumping down your throat with mostly bullshit ads. I hate that billboards exist. I hate that every company unanimously decided to make their ads longer and longer. I hate that ad blockers try to charge you money and there are in app purchases to remove ads. I hate that my attention has become commodified. I hate that there’s nothing I can do about it.
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Hola hi could you pretty please do a fic (Oscar please) where they’re in home town Australia and they spend Christmas at readers home, where Oscar sees some of his girlfriends many talents and she goes weight boarding and she and Oscar then go tubing with her cousin and it’s just funny seeing them trying to hold on and get flung off
Christmas Chaos - OP81
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!gf!reader
synopsis: spending a summer Christmas in Australia is supposed to be a relaxing. But after watching Y/N effortlessly tear up the water on a wakeboard, Oscar suddenly finds himself roped into a chaotic, high-speed tubing session driven by her ruthless cousin.
wc: 741
The Australian sun was blistering, a stark contrast to the chilly European winters Oscar was used to. But a summer Christmas in your hometown was exactly what he needed to decompress after a grueling Formula 1 season. The esky was full, the barbecue was firing up on the shore, and the water was crystal clear.
Oscar sat on the padded leather seat of your family’s speedboat, a cold drink in hand, watching as you strapped your feet into the wakeboard.
"You sure about this, Y/N?" he called out over the hum of the engine, squinting through his sunglasses.
You just grinned, adjusted your life jacket, and gave your cousin at the helm a quick thumbs-up. The engine roared, the tow rope snapped taut, and within seconds, you were pulled smoothly out of the water. Oscar leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He knew you had a lot of hobbies, but he had never actually seen you out on the water.
You carved through the wake with effortless grace, leaning entirely parallel to the water before cutting back and catching an impressive amount of air off the crest of the wave. You landed smoothly, flashing a bright smile toward the boat. Oscar shook his head in disbelief, thoroughly mesmerized. The man spent his life driving at over 300 kilometers an hour, but seeing you command the water like that made his heart skip a completely different kind of beat.
After a solid ten minutes of showing off, you let go of the rope and sank into the cool water, swimming back to the boarding platform.
"Not bad, right?" you teased, pulling yourself up as Oscar handed you a towel.
"Not bad?" Oscar laughed, pulling you in for a quick kiss despite you being soaking wet. "You didn't tell me you were a professional. I feel completely unathletic right now."
"Don't worry, mate," your cousin yelled from the driver's seat, tossing a giant, obnoxiously bright inflatable tube into the water. "We'll level the playing field. Tube time. Both of you. Get in."
Oscar looked at the floating donut, then back to you. "How hard can it be? I pull 5Gs in high-speed corners."
"Famous last words, Piastri," Y/N laughed, sliding back into the water and dragging the tube over. "My cousin takes no prisoners."
Oscar cautiously climbed into the tube, taking the spot next to you and gripping the nylon handles tight. The moment the boat accelerated, he immediately realized that the engineered, aerodynamic grip of a McLaren had absolutely not prepared him for the chaotic, entirely unpredictable physics of being dragged across a lake.
The boat picked up speed, and the tube began to bounce violently over the choppy water.
"Is he trying to kill us?!" Oscar yelled over the rushing wind, his eyes wide as water sprayed directly into his face.
"Just hold on!" Y/N screamed through a fit of hysterical laughter.
Your cousin looked back, flashed a wicked grin, and whipped the steering wheel hard to the right. The centrifugal force sent the tube flying out wide, swinging like a pendulum outside the wake. You hit a massive wave, and the entire tube went airborne.
"Oh, no—" Oscar started, but physics had already made its decision.
His grip slipped, and in a spectacular tangle of flailing limbs and neon life jackets, the two of you were launched mercilessly into the air. You hit the water with a massive splash, tumbling beneath the surface before your life jackets quickly bobbed you back up to the top.
Oscar broke the surface, wiping his dripping hair out of his eyes and coughing up a mouthful of water. He looked over in a sheer panic for a split second before he heard it—you were floating a few feet away, laughing so hard no sound was coming out.
Oscar couldn't help but crack a massive smile, swimming over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you both stable in the deep water.
"Okay," Oscar panted, shaking his head as the boat circled back toward you. "You win. Formula 1 is officially much safer than an Australian Christmas."
"You did good for a rookie," Y/N smiled, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck and pressing a wet kiss to his cheek. "Ready for round two?"
Oscar groaned, burying his face in your shoulder, but he was smiling the entire time. "Only if you promise to hold onto me this time."
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