#and people going ‘oh she’s so pretty’

[drchucktingle]

how are you human?

so many interesting comments and thoughts on my post saying buds should consider not coming up to strangers in marginalized groups and saying 'how are you a real person that actually exists?'. i will point out this: despite my VERY gentle tone a few buds said i was having a 'meltdown' for even mentioning it

others said i was being too serious for someone who is ‘not a real person’. so if you would any more evidence of what it is like to be a buckaroo like myself there it is. every day, autistic folks who may seem ‘weird’ are bombarded with messages and comments and implications that they are fundamentally not human beings

sometimes it is outright and blatant like the comments on last post saying ‘well why are you getting mad? you are not even real’ and sometimes it is in the very subtle ways that folks use language when they talk to us. there is huge difference between ‘how do you exist?’ and ‘i am glad you exist.’

anyway, something that i think many people who have not lived this experience dont seem to understand is i KNOW the poster who said ‘how are you a real person that actually exists’ probably meant it as a compliment. that is THE POINT of why i am taking a moment out of my trot to gently and anonymously let them know how it might feel to be on other end of something like this as a queer or autistic or otherwise marginalized buckaroo. it is obviously not their intent to actually hurt someone, so i am letting them know

maybe because queerness and autism are not physically apparent it is hard to explain, but imagine going up to very tall or very short person and saying ‘cant BELIEVE you are real’ as a compliment. not a great way to treat others. on my original post, an indigenous author chimed in with their own experience and feelings similar to my own. a woman who said she was very tall told her story. point is, while i do not have their experience, what i am saying has a universal thread for 'othered' folks

point is: i UNDERSTAND there is this sort of exaggerated or ironic (or maybe even sometimes very literal) language around fandom to say things like ‘how are you a human?’ to creators, but since it is not your intent to hurt, i think you might want to know how that feels to marginalized buckaroos sometimes.

obviously you can say anything you want. i do not hold it against you. also, if you think ‘oh no, did i say something like this to chuck at a convention? i am so embarrassed' then DO NOT WORRY i promise you buckaroo you are just fine. i present myself in a way that is unusual by definition, so i have pretty thick skin about this type of thing and a lot of patience. MANY buds start off thinking i am ‘a joke’ and then become fans over time and i am glad to trot beside them and prove love is real.

however there are other autistic or queer or marginalized buckaroos with smaller platforms who hear this just as much as me, so i think it is important to say it loudly and maybe together we can work on making a very slight shift in the way we speak to the ‘others’ in our lives

we do not NEED to let subtle dehumanization slip into our language. in some cases it has been called ‘micro aggressions’ but i think buds dont often consider what that means for COMPLIMENTS. ultimately, telling marginalized people YOU ARE SO AMAZING YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY EXIST may seem very fun and silly on the surface and for some folks it probably feels that way, but for others it can feel like a reminder of the broader doubt about their humanity. you can just say ‘YOU ARE AMAZING’ without the reminder of the many times autistic or queer or marginalized folks are told in a very serious and pointed way (like comments on the last post) ‘YOU ARE SO WEIRD THAT I HAVE DECIDED YOU ARE NOT REAL’

buckaroos can take this information and apply it to their interactions, or they can ignore it, that is totally fine. we are all trotting our own trots and proving love in our own way and thats okay bud, HOWEVER i feel like it is important to at least let folks know, even if that means getting told i am having a ‘meltdown’. i think it is important to have complex or difficult conversations if it will prove a little more love in the long run. THANK YOU FOR READING BUCKAROOS. i am honored to trot forward with you can tackle this kind of thing with you, and honored you buckaroos have created such an amazing space with me to pull apart these kind of feelings. THIS IS PROOF THAT LOVE IS REAL LETS TROT

[bunny-jpeg]

honey, i'm home!!, convict!simon r.- you were a bleeding heart, a softie. maybe that was why you took a photo of the flyer taped against the glass wall of a bus stop. it was advertising a service for people on the outside to communicate with convicts in prison. those who didn't have family on the outside. it broke your heart as you thought about it on your commute to work.

these poor people, all alone with anyone to keep them tethered to outside. it must be so isolating, so cold. you knew the risks and when you put in your information on the website, you didn't pay too much mind to the possibilities. you were surprised when you got an email back saying that they had found you a inmate to be a pen pal with.

simon riley - five year sentence for assaulting a police officer. he had no living family and was allowed to join the program due to good behavior during his time in prison. the mugshot of him made your eyes go wide. blond, a smattering of moles and freckles, alluring brown eyes (even in the horrid mugshot light), a crooked nose from multiple breakages and scars on his face.

if your jaw dropped at the sight of his photo imagine the surprise on his face when they gave him all your information. no photo though. but enough about you to pull the convict in. oh, you were beautiful. at least on paper you were.

ideal wife-y material. that made simon chub up in his jumpsuit. he didn't care what you looked like, by the first letter he was already calling you his wife to the likes of johnny. calling you missus riley by the time he had been exchanging letters with you for a month. he learned so much about you, and you became more endearing. you told him your favourite movies, that some flowers made you allergies act up, your love of animals. you even told him about the stuffed animal you 'rescued' from a puddle, washed it up and named it tulip who now sits on your desk at home. it was sweet, you were sweet.

simon near killed a man in a botched robbery and you were talking to him like it was a first date. mind you, over letters but simon loved them. you were advised not to send anything in the mail, your address was obscured with the service's address so simon couldn't find you once he got out. but, with the right words and promises, he had your full name, the location of your job and the address of your home. you were even sweet enough let him put it as his main address once he left prison. already the sweetest thing since honey.

but simon was a greedy man, asked for a few photos of you. while you were shy, he said to you, "wanna know what my girl looks like. wanna know how she looks so when i come home, i'm able to recognize her in any crowd." and you sent a few photos, and to simon's surprise. a suggestive one.

he could see a peek of your breasts and he realized he wanted to get his paws all over them. he wanted to leave pretty bruises on that tender flesh. mark what was his, that was what he learned in prison. in order to keep something he had to keep a tight grip on it. not even johnny saw the photos, you were for his eyes only.

you were nice enough to print them on good quality photo paper, and after that there was an increase in simon's good behavior. he had to get out as soon as possible to sink his achy cock in his missus. and when the day finally came and you came to pick him up. he already felt tight in his jeans.

and not that you were so innocent either, you had your hand on his thigh while you drove home. months of dirty talk over letters, the time simon basically wrote poetry about how he wanted to taste between your legs was still a favourite to read while you were all alone in your apartment. your hand between your legs, imagining a man like simon pleasing you in a way that made orgasm come quick.

your self pleasure was nothing compared to the feeling of simon against your skin. you barely got his scarce belongings into your flat before he was pressed up against your behind. his large, rough hand on your hip, which made your stomach leap. your core got warmer.

he then said to you, "aw, doll. that's not a way to greet your husband. been away for too long, need to feel her." and then dropped his duffel bag in favour of having you pressed up against the door of your flat with your shorts soon around your ankles.

"simon! ah!" you said as he held you by the shoulders against the door while he got his belt off and his cock out. five years without a hole to call home, but he got out of the pit with a little (future) wife to happily make up for loss time.

when he sank into you, it was a religious experience, "oh honey, i'm home." before he got both hands on your hips and his hips hit up against your ass. there was little time to get familiar, it was a deep seated want. simon rutted against you like a feral dog and the pleasure made you mind race and your knees wobble.

you two couldn't even get to the bedroom, not that simon cared. he'd happily have you over the hood of his car. you knew he didn't have any satisfactions from the outside. you were being good and being his connection to the outside world. it was only fair that he thanked you with all the orgasms he could wring out of you. he'd make sure that the third round was in your soft bed. but his thrusts were heavy and desperate and the uneven pace made your brain become flooded with pleasure.

you tried to find some kind of leverage against the door, but you were simply stuck against him. you were fucked against the wood door with your hips in your convict lover's hands. he may have smudged a little bit of the details of his crimes, but it was alright. you were such a forgiving soul that you let him into your life, into your home, into your womb. he couldn't remember if you still took the pill, but it was too late for that. not while your slick cunt drooled all over his balls.

why complain about a slice of heaven when it was dropped into his lap. he eventually wrapped both arms around your middle and fucked into you feverishly. he felt the excitement in his body as he moved against you. you felt amazing, there was a certain beauty to you as you took his cock was cemented that you were his. you'll have a ring on your finger and a fat belly by christmas. the thought made him twitch.

been too long since he had a homecooked meal, and while having your cunt grasp his cock. he knew that he'd be spoiled with his wife's cooking. if it was as warm as you pussy, maybe it'll reform him more than prison ever did.

after so many years without a touch of a woman, it felt nice. it felt great to work his cock into you. have you squished up against the door as he worked himself into you. breaking in his home, breaking in his wife. what more could he want. even gave that stomach of yours a sweet little pat.

be a good girl and give him a chunky riley baby by new year.

when you climaxed, you basically were limp in his arms and he pressed you further against the door for leverage. he purred to you, "that's it, that's is, doll. you're doing so good, fuck. been wantin' this for ages. good girl, good cunt. all for me. not gettin' into trouble while i was in, right? keepin' yourself for me."

you nodded, cheek pressed against the door as he continued to fuck you. your head felt dizzy. you didn't bother dating after you started your correspondence with simon. no point, he kept your happy. simon knew that loyalty was rewarded, so he did so by shoving every inch of his length inside of you an finishing straight into the back of your womb.

he groaned and gave you a few more thrusts before he pulled out. he patted you on the behind and kissed the back of your neck, "happy to be home, doll. our home. now why don't you show me around." and chuckled when you could barely string together a sentence. he pulled you up against his chest and near leaned over you to kiss you on the cheek, "look alive, sunshine. gotta show your husband his new home. except i think it might be too small. especially when the twins come." and it went in one ear and out the other, you dumbly nodded and simon did the right thing and fucked you over the coffee table until you came a second and third time. it's alright, he'll get a tour of his home by fucking you over every available surface. <3

a/n: happy near year, my dear bunnies <3

[madebycloud]

pt 1 | Not Even at All

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: vi is off limits until her sister gets a date that doesn't end within the first ten minutes. eager to date vi, a certain girl approaches you with a proposal. date jinx. win her over. and for your efforts, she's willing to be generous. (10 Things I Hate About You AU) warnings/themes: fluff, kinda enemies to what, one sided fake dating, highschool, modern au, smoking (reader), kat!jinx, patrick!reader words: 5.8k notes: because of the age difference, caitlyn is in college that's why she's always on calls.. — ✩ part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

You pick up at the third ring, hearing a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, good, you picked up.”

It's Caitlyn.

You put the phone down for a few seconds to eat your sandwich, before picking the phone back up. “What now?” you ask through a mouthful of sandwich. “I just woke up, y'know.”

The line is silent for a minute.

Then, you hear Caitlyn clear her throat. “Are you busy right now?”

It's 9am on Sunday, of course you're not busy. “Kinda busy eating my breakfast,” you reply, taking another bite. “Why?”

You hear some shuffling on the other end, some muttering, and another pause before Caitlyn speaks again. “I have… a proposition.”

A proposition already, and so early in the morning? you put your sandwich down, sitting up and making sure you heard that right. “I'm listening.”

Caitlyn clears her throat again, and there's sounds of footsteps and whispers in the background, as if she's moving somewhere more secluded. “…Do you know Jinx?”

It's a strange question. Pretty much everyone knows Jinx. “Yeah,” you reply. “Why?”

The shuffling resumes, a few footsteps, and the murmur of voices. “I'll cut to the chase. I'm asking for your help. I need you to do me a favor.”

You pause, raising an eyebrow. What does she want? “Depends on what it is.” You shrug. “And what I'd get in return.” You take a sip from your glass.

The murmuring on Caitlyn's end of the line stops, and you hear the sound of a door clicking shut. “I want you to take Jinx on a date.”

You nearly choke on your drink. “You want me to what?” you manage to ask between coughs.

“It'll be a fake date!” she says quickly. “If you can make this date go smoothly and… make her like you, even a little bit, I'll pay you a hundred dollars.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “100 dollars?!” You cough again. “You can't just throw me under the bus like that. You've lost your damn mind.”

“Please just hear me out,” Caitlyn pleads. “It's not like you have to ask her to marry you. Just think of it as a challenge. You get 100 dollars if you can get her to enjoy a date with you. Come on, you're good with girls, aren't you?”

What does she think you are, some suave James Bond-esque ladykilling playgirl? while you’ve kissed a couple girls, you can't call yourself super suave. 

“Caitlyn, Jinx hates me.” It's common knowledge. Jinx hates nearly everyone, especially people she was in class with. “She's gonna kill me if I ask her out on a date.” You shudder.

“That's why I chose you for this,” she says. “I figured you were the type to face any challenge head-on.”

“This isn't just a 'challenge', it's a mission for the suicidal,” you retort. “You're setting me up to embarrass myself and get ridiculed in the process.”

You hear her scoff. “So you can flirt and tease the whole damn school, but a date with Jinx is the line you draw, is that it?”

You scowl at her comment. You’ve been known to flirt and joke around with a few people at school, but that’s all it is—meaningless flirting with no strings attached. This is completely different—this is Jinx we’re talking about. “You're comparing apples and oranges here,” you protest. “They're not the same, Cait.”

“Maybe,” she replies. “But I've seen how you've charmed your way out of trouble. You're good at talking your way out of things. And that's exactly what I need right now.”

That's true, but that’s with a teacher, or a TA, or a store manager who’s trying to bust you for shoplifting. Not with Jinx, of all people.

“Caitlyn, c'mon. She's either gonna punch me in the face, or call me a dumbass, or both.”

“Just listen,” she cuts in. “All you have to do is go on a fake date with her. You don’t have to actually like her.”

“No, no, no.” You shake your head, gripping the phone in your hand. “No way, no how.”

“150 dollars.”

“You really, really want me to go on a fake date with Jinx?” you murmur. “Are you that desperate?”

“I'm very desperate.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “Why are you so fixated on me doing this?”

You hear movement on the other line, like Caitlyn's pacing back and forth. “Okay, look,” she begins. “I… really like her sister. Like really like her. Like…”

This wasn't just a fake date. It was a way to get closer to who she liked. “Oh. Ohh.”

“Yeah...”

Wow. This was a lot more desperate than you initially thought.

“But why don't you just ask her sister out?” you ask.

“I did.” She sighs again. “I asked Vi out last week, and she said she can't go on a date with me until her sister finds someone. Jinx has to be happy before Vi can go on dates, according to her.”

What the hell kind of ridiculous rule is that? “So let me get this straight,” you start. “You want me to go on a fake date with Jinx.”

“Yes.”

“Until she becomes my... girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“And then you can date Vi.”

“Yes.”

It sounds crazy, ridiculous, batshit insane. “Holy shit, Caitlyn.” You run your fingers over your eyes, shaking your head to yourself. “All of this just so you can get laid?”

A huff comes from the other end of the line. “Are we making a deal or not?”

“Hey, wait a minute—I'm gonna need the money first,” you say, drumming your fingers against the table.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” you explain. “You know, the whole dating thing. Dates, food, gas, that kinda stuff. You can't expect me to pay for all of that with my own money.”

Caitlyn doesn't respond immediately. You can hear some shuffling, and you can imagine her biting her lower lip anxiously, maybe staring out the wall.

“There's a high probability I won't even get a Harley after all this,” you add. 

Silence.

“So I'm gonna need the money...”

There’s a pause, then an annoyed hiss. “Don't you trust me?”

“Oh hell no. Give me the money first and then I'll consider the deal.”

She sighs. “Fine. Whatever, I'll give you the money.”

“All of it?”

“…Yes. All of it. All 150. For your shitty, awful fake date.” She huffs. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

—

You step into the office, finding Caitlyn’s mother already hunched over her laptop, staring over the rim of her glasses. You hated coming into this office. It always felt like you were in the principal’s office.

“I see we're making our visits a weekly ritual,” Mrs. Kiramman says, staring at you over her laptop. 

“Only so we can have these moments together,” you reply, your mouth already curving into a grin. “Should I, uh, get the lights?”

Mrs. Kiramman sighs, her eyes scanning over the paper in front of her. “Exposed yourself... in the cafeteria,” she mutters. “I seriously don't understand why my daughter associates herself with you.”

“It was for a good reason, I swear.”

“Oh, really?” She raises her eyebrow. “And what reason is that?”

“I was joking with the lunch lady,” you explain, spreading your hands out. “She was being snippy with me, so I started unbuttoning my shirt, it's not like I was actually going to flash anyone.”

Mrs. Kiramman takes off her glasses and pinches the bridge of her nose, her other hand coming to rest on her forehead.

“But I suppose if we've already looked through all my wrongdoings, you can release me back into the wild, eh?” you continue.

“Just... make it more than a week before coming back here, alright? I don't want to see you in my office every week—you're a walking headache.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. K.”

“And stop calling me Mrs. K.”

—

Jinx kicks the ball here and there, back and forth, side to side. She's taking all of her frustrations out on this ball, dribbling it down the field, passing it to her teammates, dodging opponents.

Her moment of peace is interrupted when a player tries to intercept her pass. She grins, dribbling out of the way and kicking the ball hard into the player's face. 

The coach blows the whistle. “Great practice, everybody!”

Practice over. Jinx tosses the ball aside. She rubs her eyes with the heel of her hands, a headache thudding against her skull. She bends forward to grab her water bottle from the edge of the field, taking generous swigs from the bottle.

Jinx is the captain of her high school's soccer team. She's good—really good. She has quick feet and a mean kick, and she's scored a lot of points for the team. In games, however… Jinx is aggressive. She kicks hard. She kicks fast. She kicks a lot. She does not pull her punches when it comes to her opponents.

She's halfway done guzzling water when a voice interrupts her.

“Hey there, girlie.”

Jinx pauses, swallowing the last of the water in her bottle. She glances up at you, watching you approach her as you shove your hands into your pockets.

“How ya doin'?” 

“Sweating like a pig actually,” she replies, pulling out a small towel and wiping her face. “And yourself?”

You hum, rocking back and forth on your feet. “I’m good. Just thought I'd come and chat with our wonderful captain.”

Jinx grumbles as she slings the towel over her shoulder.

“That was quite a performance out there,” you continue, raising a hand to give her a slow clap. “You were brutal today. Worse than usual, not-gonna-lie.”

Gathering her stuff, Jinx zips up her bag, slings it across one shoulder, then strides past you.

“Hey,” you say, quickly catching up to her. “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think, genius? I'm leaving.”

You huff, following her as she marches out of the soccer field. “Pick you up on Friday, then.”

Jinx makes a face at that. “Oh, right, Friday,” she mimics. “Uh-huh.”

You cock a smirk. “Well, the night I take you places you've never been before.”

“Like where? The 7-Eleven on Broadway?”

“Ha, very funny.” You shake your head. “And actually, no, smartass.”

“Do you even know me?” she asks, not slowing her pace.

You hurry to keep up and shrug. “Yeah, we have the same class on science.”

She stops in her tracks and turns to look at you, eyes flitting up and down, up and down. Once, twice, three times. “You're the one that never shows up in Mr. Viktor's class?”

“Hey, to be fair,” you say, putting your hands up. “That's an 8 a.m. class. No one shows up for an 8 a.m. class at ass o'clock in the morning.”

Her expression remains unamused as she shifts her bag's backpack strap further off her shoulder. “Except you're the only one who never shows up. You have the same attendance rate as Mr. Blitzcrank,” she tells you, turning back around to start walking. “Which is absolutely none.”

“What can I say?” You chuckle, jogging to catch up to her again. “I'm very talented. Gifted, even.”

She mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like “Talented at being an idiot, more like.”

“Hey, I heard that.”

“Good,” she says over her shoulder. “Maybe don’t try to impress me with your shitty grades and your non-existent attendance record next time, then.” Without a second glance, she continues walking, leaving you behind.

“Ouch!” you exclaim. “Rude, by the way!” you shout at her, and you see a flash of a smile over her features.

—

Jinx stands at her locker, gathering her books—a variety of books with names like Introduction to Rocketry, Engineering and Architecture, Chemistry Vol. 3: Chemical Reactions, Organic and Inorganic Compounds and Mixtures, and a few other engineering books, all with worn spines and yellow pages.

“Hey,” you greet.

She doesn't even glance at you as she continues sorting through her books, shoving what she doesn't need aside with a flick of her wrist.

“You hate me, don't you?” you ask, leaning against the locker beside her.

She gives you a side glance but doesn't fully look away from her locker. “What are you, five?” she asks. “I don't really care enough about you to hate you.”

“Rude.”

“It's the truth. As far as I'm concerned, you're better than a mosquito,” she says, continuing with sorting through her locker. “Annoying, but not something worth paying attention to.”

“Mosquito, really?”

She slams her locker shut and locks it. She turns to look at you, adjusting her backpack straps on her shoulders—a backpack that is covered in various patches and colorful pins. “What exactly do you want?”

“Spend Dollar Night at the track with me.”

She arches one eyebrow. “And why the hell would I do that?”

“Come on, the ponies, the flat beer... you with money in your eyes, me with my hand on your ass…”

“You covered in my vomit,” she cuts you off. “That's what's going to happen. If I go within ten feet of whatever greasy-ass food joint and cheap liquor you're going to take me to.”

“Damn, you're feisty. I kinda like that.”

She scowls at your words. “And you're annoying. I kinda despise that.”

“Ouch,” you mock. “And you're a bit more than feisty. You're like... feisty on steroids. Are you always like this?”

Her scowl deepens, and in one second, she suddenly has one of your arms twisted behind your back and pinned to your torso.

She leans forward, her face so close to yours. “Maybe, if you stopped annoying me,” she whispers. “I'd stop acting like this.”

You flinch, letting out a low hiss. “Ow, ow-” You try to pull away from her grip, but she only tightens it. “Ow, okay, I get it—let go, let go!” 

She holds you still for a moment longer before roughly releasing her grip. You stagger forward, rubbing the spot where her hand had been. “What-” you gasp “-the hell was that for?”

“Consider it a learning experience, dipshit,”  she snaps, before stalking off, her long blue braid swinging behind her.

“You can't just-” you start to call after her, but she's already halfway down the hall. You huff rubbing your sore arm. 

Yep. Jinx is as prickly as a cactus. This is gonna be harder than you thought.

—

“She's a freaking Ronda Rousey,” you mutter into the phone, massaging your throbbing arm. “She damn near twisted my arm off!”

“Jinx? Did she hurt you?”

“Just my dignity.”

You hear Cait chuckle faintly. “I'll take that to mean it didn't go very well?”

“You could say that,” you grumble. “She's difficult.” You watch your clothes spin around in the washing machine. “I think this may take longer than you think, Cait. Waaay longer.”

“I can't just flirt my way through this,” you go on, moving to grab one of the nearby magazines to distract yourself. “She's smart, witty, and sassy—the whole package. Very pretty, too. But she's rude.” You shift your phone to fit between your shoulder and ear.

“Rude,” you stress again, flipping to a magazine page with random trivia questions on it. “Who the hell is rude these days? It's all sugarcoating, bullshit, and fake smiles.” You glance idly at the question titled 'How Compatible Are You with Your Ideal Partner?'. You scoff, turning the page. “She's downright ruthless.”

“Have you even tried asking her out?”

“Hell yes I have. I even tried asking her to go to Dollar Night at the track.”

“You tried asking her to go to the race track?”

“You don't think she's a fan of ponies and alcohol?” you reply, grinning.

“I think she's a fan of punching you in the face.”

“Yeah, she did not like that idea.”

There's a pause on the line.

“Okay, I'll admit that wasn't the smoothest plan.”

“Or smartest,” Cait interjects. “Anyway, are you reading a magazine right now?”

“I'm at the laundromat.”

“And you're reading a magazine.”

“To pass the time,” you justify.

“Mhm.”

“I'm boooored.” You set the magazine down on a nearby chair, turning back to watch your clothes spin around. “And I'm tired of watching my clothes spin around. It's boring. I haven't had a good date in ages.” You move to rest your head against the glass. “I need something interesting. Someone interesting.”

Your eyes move across the storefronts and streets outside of the laundromat.

Wait… It can't be...

But, yes.

Yes it is. It's Jinx's car.

Your gaze focuses on the shiny blue vehicle before shifting to Jinx, who gets out of the car and walks over to a nearby music store just down the road.

You hear Caitlyn's muffled voice. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Yeah, Cait, I heard you,” you lie, taking your eyes off her car to turn your attention back to the washing machine and your phone. “Uh, I'll call you back. I think I just saw Jinx.”

—

Jinx pushes the entrance door open, juggling a small bag of CDs in one hand and rifling through her purse in the other. Her lips form a small 'o' when she finally pulls her keys out...

...and looks up to see you sitting on the hood of her car. She groans to herself.

“Nice ride. Vintage fenders.” You turn around to face her, leaning back against the hood.

Jinx stops a few feet away from you, shifting the bag of CDs to the other hand. “Are you following me?”

“Nah,” you shrug. “I was at the laundromat,” you pause, gesturing to the building in front of the store she just walked out of. “Saw your car. Thought I'd say hi.”

“Hi,” she grumbles.

Jinx walks over to her car, but you quickly stand ahead of her, placing yourself between her and her vehicle. “You're not afraid of me, are you?”

“Why would I be afraid of you?” she retorts, her nose wrinkling.

“Some people are,” you reply. 

“I'm not.” “Maybe you're not afraid of me… but I bet you've thought about me naked.” You smirk, taking the time to wink at her.

“Am I that transparent?” she mutters. “I want you... I need you... Oh, baby, oh baby.” Jinx rolls her eyes dramatically as she tries to step around you, but you shift your body to block her path again.

“Now, don't ignore me,” you tease.

“Let me pass, I have places to be,” Jinx says irritably, trying to step around you for the third time, only for you to once again move and block her.

“Come on now,” you urge. “Just a few minutes of your time.”

“You're being a pest,” she complains. “What do you want?��

“Just a little bit of your time, that's all,” you answer, holding your hands up in surrender before resting them back on the car. “C'mon. You don't have anything better to do anyway, right?”

“Piss off,” Jinx snaps, reaching out and grabbing the handle. The door swings open, throwing you off balance and causing you to topple forward.

Jinx throws the bag into the passenger seat, slams the door shut, and starts the car. She doesn't hesitate to throw the car in reverse, and you have to lunge out of the way to avoid being hit.

RUDE! You scowl in Jinx's direction, watching her drive away. With a sigh, you reach into your pocket and grab your phone, heading back into the laundromat. You begin to dial Caitlyn's number.

The phone only rings once before it's picked up immediately. “Well? what happened?” she starts without any sort of introduction.

“I just upped my price,” you declare.

“What?”

“200 dollars a date.” You stand your ground. “In advance.”

“And why are you increasing the price?”

You sigh heavily, rubbing your forehead. “I told you she's difficult,” you remind her. “She's prickly, short-tempered, and violent,” you explain. “I'm increasing my price because I'm taking a hell of a lot more risk dealing with her.”

“Forget it.”

“Forget her sister, then.”

Silence falls for a heartbeat. Then, reluctantly, she grunts. “Fine. 200 dollars a date. But I want results.”

“No promises,” you warn her. “And first things first, we need to find some way to make Jinx actually want to go on a date with me. How well do you know her?”

Caitlyn hums. “She's Vi's sister, so we have some, ah…” She searches for the correct word. “History,” she finishes awkwardly. “But I'm not an expert on Jinx's inner workings, if that's what you're asking.”

“Great.” That really wasn't the answer you were hoping for. How was it that Caitlyn was apparently able to make this plan without knowing anything about Jinx? “Do you think Vi would have anything?”

“...Maybe,” she responds slowly. “I could probably ask Vi.” She pauses. “Actually,” Caitlyn continues. “I might know someone who... might know Jinx pretty well.”

“Who?”

“Ever heard of a kid named Ekko?”

—

He glances over his shoulder at you, a paintbrush in hand. “What do you want?”

After a bit of searching, you're able to find Ekko at his usual spot—painting the empty space on the school wall. Some of your friends mentioned that he usually hung out here during free periods.

“I want to know about your friend... Jinx.”

Ekko rolls his eyes, resuming his painting. “Yeah, sure, stranger I don’t even know.”

You huff in annoyance. “Alright, listen,” you begin. “I'm not here to cause trouble, or gossip, or any of that. I…” you pause, shifting uncomfortably. “I'm trying to ask Jinx out on a date,” you explain. “So I thought you might be able to help me.”

That makes Ekko pause. He blinks slowly, slowly glancing back over his shoulder at you. “…You’re shitting me, right?”

“I'm not,” you insist. “I'm being serious, alright? and I'm not getting into some of the details, but I…” you pause awkwardly. “I kind of need this date to happen.”

“You need this date?” Ekko echoes, staring at you. “The hell does that mean?”

“I mean,” you reply, avoiding direct eye contact. “I just need it to happen, and for reasons I'm not going to disclose,” you add. “I need it to go really well. You get me?”

Ekko scoffs but nods his head. “Sounds like you're desperate or something.” He sets his brush down, turning around to face you. “Why Jinx, anyway?”

“I…” you start, not really sure how to explain this to Ekko without spilling every detail. “Let's just say my reasons are my own.”

“Hm.” He studies you up and down. “First off, who the hell even are you? how do I know you're not some creep trying to take advantage of Jinx?”

You open your mouth to defend yourself, but then close it and sigh. “Okay, you have a point,” you admit. “But listen,” you soothe. “I'm not a creep. I'm a senior student, like you and Jinx. I want to ask Jinx on a date, and no one really knows her all that well, so I thought you could help me because she's your friend-”

Ekko shakes his head, picking up the brush once again. “Nah we're not that close anymore.” He gives you a sidelong glance. “Jinx and I used to be close friends a few years ago,” he explains, returning his attention to the painting. “But things between us… got complicated.”

Juicy. But that’s none of your business, and definitely not Ekko’s place to share. So you move on, clearing your throat. “Right. Um… Okay, so back to Jinx,” you begin. “You still know her better than most, right? you must have some good insight on her.”

“I don't know,” he replies slowly. “Yeah, I know a bunch of things about Jinx. But… honestly, there's just as much that I don’t know.” He starts painting again. “She changes her mind like… every five seconds. She's unpredictable. Reckless. Wild. Dangerous.”

“I'm not here to psychoanalyze Jinx,” you clarify. “I just need to know… how the hell to even talk to her one-on-one, without her throwing a pencil at me or something.”

Ekko snorts. “Oh, that's easy.” He glances at you through his eyelashes. “Good luck.”

—

“Of all the places you want to meet up, you chose here?”

You straighten up and glance over at Caitlyn, who's standing off to the side, looking around the place. She looks rather out of place here, especially compared to the other customers in the pub—greasy-looking old men, rough-looking teenagers dressed in leather and denim, and drunken bums hanging around the slots.

Caitlyn grimaces as another patron spits tobacco juice to the floor. “Gross…” she mutters, wrinkling her nose.

You shrug, taking a puff from your cigarette. “You're never late,” you reply. “And this place is never busy. Figured it would give us privacy.”

“Right.” Caitlyn takes a seat on a nearby stool, folding her legs neatly. “So… how's Ekko?”

You line up the cue ball to the 8, taking one last look down the table before glancing at Caitlyn. “Um… he's good,” you reply. “A bit unhelpful, but that's alright.”

You aim the cue ball at the 8 again and give it a good hard smack, watching it glide across the table. It hits the 8 ball, which rolls a few inches before stopping. Damn. You’re just off.

“What about you, how's Vi?” you ask, taking a drag from your cigarette and exhaling a billowing cloud of smoke. You set the pool stick down.

Caitlyn coughs, fanning her hand in front of her face to try and clear the smoke away from her lungs. It doesn't work very well. “First thing you should know...” She snatches the cigarette from your hand and drops it to the floor. “She hates smokers.” She stomps on the butt to snuff it out.

“So, you’re telling me that I'm a-” You make air quotations with your fingers. “-non-smoker.”

“For now, yes.”

“Alright, alright. No smoking, got it.” You lean your pool cue on the wall. “Happy?”

“Another thing…” She purses her lips, eyes flicking over your features. “Vi mentioned that Jinx… likes pretty girls.”

Silence.

“Are you telling me I'm not pretty?”

Caitlyn jumps as soon as the words leave your mouth. “N-no!” She gestures at you. “You’re pretty. Definitely pretty.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.”

Caitlyn reaches into her pocket, pulling out a thick sheet of paper with a few bullet points written on it. “Anyways… there’s more.” She glances over the list, then looks back up at you. “Jinx likes: …art, drawing, bombs, explosions, tinkering, sweets, plushies, dogs, punk music...” She continues reading down the list. “Dislikes: teachers, school, rules, authority figures, boredom, being told what to do, being ignored…” 

She shoves the list into your hands, and you stare down at the words written in neat, orderly rows. “That's everything that I could get out of Vi.”

A few likes and a bunch of dislikes—what an absolute nutcase.

You look back up at Caitlyn. “So what does that give me? am I supposed to… bribe her with art supplies, draw her a picture, give her some sweets, then blow up a building?”

“Have you ever been to The Last Drop?”

You respond with a nod. You've been there a few times... it's usually filled with shady people, but the alcohol is reasonably priced.

“Letters to Cleo will be playing there tomorrow night.” 

“No.”

“Come on, it's just one night-” Caitlyn coaxes.

“No.”

She gives you a nudge. “Just assail your ears for one night. It's her favorite band, after all.”

It's a stupid idea. Spending your free time in a bar, listening to some god-awful music? It's the perfect recipe for a terrible night.

But if it's what Jinx likes...  “Fine.”

“Atta girl,” Caitlyn grins, clearly satisfied. She pulls out her phone, glancing down at the time as her fingers dance over the screen. “Oh… and I'm throwing a party on Friday night,” she says, looking back up at you. “It's the perfect opportunity.”

You blink. “Opportunity for what?”

“For you to ask out Jinx, of course.”

“…I'll think about it.”

—

Your car pulls up to a stop out front, the engine making a low noise. You step out of the car and start walking towards the entrance when you notice Sevika standing outside.

Sevika looks up, and her lips stretch into a smirk as she sees you. “Ah, my friend,” she greets. “It’s been a while.”

You shake her hand. “It’s good to see you again, Sev.”

Sevika eyes you up, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Didn't have you pegged for a fan,” she says. “Aren't they a bit too pre-teen belly-button ring for you?”

“Just a fan of a fan,” you reply. 

The door is slightly ajar, and you can faintly make out the music coming from inside.

“Did a blue-haired girl come in by chance?”

Sevika nods towards the door. “Just sent her through. She's with some other gal.”

You nod and head towards the entrance when Sevika calls out to you. “What happened to that girl you brought in last time?”

Ah, right. It has been a few months. “I dunno,” you reply with a shrug. “I just never called her again.”

Sevika chuckles and shakes her head. “That figures.”

You squeeze through the crowded floor and eventually find an open spot at the bar. The music from the stage is so loud you can feel the floor vibrating under your feet.

You flag down the bartender and place an order, then start idly scanning the crowd. You can make out a flash of blue hair, and your gaze lands on Jinx singing along to the chorus of the song.

You rest against the counter and watch Jinx dancing along to the music. She’s happy, and surprisingly, no “attitude” is present—not the usual scowls, or frowns, or cold looks.

Seeing her like this… giddy, with a wide smile and flushed face, makes you find yourself… smiling.

Huh. That’s... something.

—

Jinx, who is thisclose to having her eardrums explode, yells at the top of her lungs, “I NEED AGUA!”

“Sorry, what?” Lux yells over the music.

“I need agua!” Jinx yells again.

“Agua?”

Jinx nods and points to the bar.

“Alright!” Lux yells, but Jinx is already pushing past her through the crowd.

Jinx manages to reach the bar and signals for the bartender. She glances around as she waits, her eyes landing on you a few feet away. 

Shiiit.

Before she can catch your eyes, you look at a random patron nearby, pretending to be looking at something else.

The bartender walks up to Jinx, shouting over the music. “What can I get for you?”

“Two waters,” she responds, casting a glance back in your direction only to find you completely focused on the stage.

The bartender brings out a pair of water bottles from the cooler and sets them on the counter. Jinx fishes out some change and pays, then grabs the water bottles.

She approaches from behind and raps a knuckle on your shoulder. “If you're planning on asking me out again, you might as well do it already.”

Playing dumb, you gesture back at the stage. “Do you mind? you're kind of ruining it for me.”

Jinx seethes, but stays where she is. “You're not surrounded by your usual cloud of smoke.”

The music dies down for a while to give the band a rest, so you no longer have to yell over the music. You turn to face her. “I know. I quit.”

“You... did?” Jinx gives you a weird look, trying to figure out your angle here. “Are you feeling alright?”

That's a pretty fair question, to be honest, because for once in your life, you're actively not trying to flirt with someone.

What's even more weird is that Jinx is actually engaging with the conversation. Jinx moves closer to the stool, standing beside you. “Since when?”

You clear your throat, avoiding her gaze. “Since… yesterday.”

“Yesterday? you quit smoking just yesterday?”

“Just yesterday.”

Jinx looks you up and down. “Why?”

You look over at the band, who are currently changing out their gear. “Because... apparently they're bad for you,” you mumble. With a shrug, you gesture back towards the stage. “They're no Bikini Kill or the Raincoats,” you reply. “But they're alright.”

You step into the crowd, and Jinx is surprised enough to be momentarily stupefied. “Wait-” she sputters before following you. “You know who the Raincoats are?”

You stop in the middle of the crowd, spinning to face her. “Why? don't you?” you ask. “I saw how you were dancing out there. I’ve never seen you look like that...”

“I.. well, I-” she stutters, before clearing her throat and collecting herself. “Yeah, I do,” she replies. “I’m into grunge and punk and stuff. Ever heard of Nirvana?”

You scoff. “Of course. Who hasn’t?”

Jinx laughs, and you resist the urge to smile when you hear it. “Yeah, fair point. What about... Siouxsie and the Banshees?”

“Love them. But you can't tell me you don't know The Damned?”

Jinx's eyes light up at the mention of The Damned. “Hell yeah, they're awesome,” she exclaims, before frowning. “Wait, how do you know The Damned?”

You give yourself a pat on the back. Nailed it. “Excuse you, I have excellent taste in music,” you reply. “How do you know The Damned?”

“I'll have you know, I'm very into music,” she retorts. “I've got a collection of 1300 CDs. Mostly punk and grunge, but some 70s rock and other stuff.”

Her response is a pleasant surprise to you… and maybe attractive. But you squash that thought down because she's Jinx, and no way are you going to feel your heart flutter at anything this woman does.

You whistle. “Only 1,300? That's cute. I have almost 2,000.” 

“No way.” She shakes her head. “No WAY you have 2,000 CDs. You're bluffing.”

“I'm not,” you insist. “I've got 2,000 pieces of music in my home.”

“Damn. You got me beat, then.” She looks around the club, then looks back at you. “Anyway, I gotta-”

“Come to Caitlyn's party with me. Friday night,” you cut her off.

“-Why should I?” 

“-Because I guarantee you'll have a fantastic time.” 

She laughs at your persistence. “You never give up, do you?” she mutters before walking away through the large crowd.

“Was that a yes?” you yell after her.

Her only response is a middle finger held high in the air.

You cup your hands around your mouth. “I'll see you at 9:30 then!”

This is good. Not great, maybe, but not awful either. You didn't get kicked in the face for asking, so you're taking that as a win.

—

“How did it go?”

You tap your fingers on the steering wheel. “Hey, Cait…” you hesitate, glancing around at the empty street. “How much money does it take to buy 2,000 CDs?”

The line goes dead.

…

After a few minutes of silence, it rings again.

“You've got to be kidding me.”

[traveler-at-heart]

Speak or die?

Summary: You have a crush on your poetry professor.

Professor Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Request by @jujuu23 :) Hope you like it

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

    And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

            Shall be lifted—nevermore!

Professor Romanoff closes the book, the classroom silent as she walks to the front. Her raspy voice had a way of enchanting people, and it almost felt like she had cast a spell on everyone.

“Thoughts?” she asks, adjusting her glasses. Her beautiful features are framed by a couple of strands of fiery hair, the rest of it tied in a messy bun.

A couple of people lean back on their seats, nervous about being called to participate.

“What a weirdo” Barnes says, and some of your classmates laugh.

“Thank you, for that very insightful analysis, Mr. Barnes. Any other thoughts you’d like to share with the class?”

Before he can speak again and say something even more stupid, you jump in.

“It’s about madness, caused by grief. About his beloved, who he’ll never forget but is gone. It’s the same theme in Annabel Lee and Lenore. Though I think Annabel Lee is a lot less haunting… there’s a certain serene beauty to it.”

“Very good, Miss Y/L/N. And of course, we have the references to Pallas Athena. Not uncommon for Allan Poe to mention Greek mythology. Your next assignment will be to find and discuss examples of mythology and classical literature within his work”

As everyone leaves the room, you walk next to the professor’s desk.

“I’ve enjoyed your essay. Well, both of them” she says.

“Both?” you stop, looking confused.

“It’s very obvious your boyfriend is not writing his papers” she tries to keep her composure, but finds it irritating that someone as bright as you is with Barnes of all people.

“Oh, Bucky? Yeah, I might have helped him a bit… not my boyfriend, though”

You think it’s best to leave out the fact he enrolled in this class to meet pretty girls and act like he knows about poetry.

“Well, he should still do his own homework” Natasha says, this time with a kinder tone. “And nice work today”

“Thank you” you nod, smiling as you leave the classroom. 

You hope Professor Romanoff didn’t notice the way you were blushing at her praise. 

—

Natasha glances at her cozy living room one last time. It’s a crisp autumn night, and she could still cancel her plans and stay home with a good book and a glass of wine.

But she’d never hear the end of it, would she?

The woman takes a cab to the gallery downtown, hoping the evening ends early and she can at least read a chapter or two of her novel before bed.

As she enters the crowded space, Natasha feels the need to turn around and leave. Carol’s voice stops her.

“Fancy meeting you here”

“Yelena made me do it” the redhead explains, standing next to her colleague and friend.

“Well, she’s quite the artist. You should be proud of your sister” Carol says, looking around the room until she finds the younger woman. Natasha nods her thanks and walks to her sister, smiling.

“You made it!” Yelena, who was explainig her sculpture to a man, stops mid sentence and hugs Natasha. “I thought you’d find a way to stay home and avoid being out”

“I promised I’d be here. Go. I’ll have a look around” Natasha says when another woman walks up to Yelena.

“Try the appetizers, they’re really good!” Yelena says before going up to meet a group of art dealers.

It’s a big night for the Art Department. They have been planning this exhibit for months now. Plenty of critics and art dealers would stop by, hoping to find the next big name.

Natasha walks around, eyeing the paintings and sculptures in the room. Distracted by a very abstract work, she fails to notice another person walking behind her until her back collides with a shoulder.

“Sorry” she turns, surprised at meeting your eyes and friendly smile.

“Hi, Professor Romanoff” you greet. “How are you liking the exhibit?” 

“It’s good. What are you doing here?”

“College paper business. And to support my roommate, Wanda” you point at a couple of paintings, with very dark themes and distorted faces. “She’s uh… going through her misunderstood artist phase” 

“Well, she’s certainly committed to it” Natasha says, looking at the girl who must be Wanda, dark hair and smokey eyes giving her a grunge look.

“She’s a sweetheart” you promise, knowing that’s only one side of her. You’ve seen her cry over The Dick Van Dyke show, for heaven’s sake. Though you promised you’d never tell anyone. “Want to be on the record for me?”

“How so?”

“Just tell me what you think of the exhibit. Or the department in general” you shrug your shoulders. “It’s good that other faculty members are here”

“Well, I’ve known Carol for years, back when we were both students. She’s very committed to her work and advancing the curriculum, so it’s great to see an amazing selection tonight. My sister seems to think a great deal of the success is due to Danvers”

“Your sister?”

“Yelena Belova” Natasha clarifies. At hearing that name, you blush and she immediately assumes that something happened between you two. 

The reality is, you’ve spoken about how much you love your poetry professor in front of Yelena on more than one occasion. Now you understand why she laughed so hard when you said Natasha was Aphrodite reincarnate.

That little shit.

“Yeah, I know Yel. Wanda and her hang at the dorm, I mean, we all do” you trip over your words, picking up a glass of red wine to ease your nerves.

“You sure you can handle that?” Natasha asks, appreciating the way your cheeks blush at the taste of the alcohol.

“It’s fine” you lick your lips, missing the way Natasha follows the movement with her eyes.

“Well, it’s nice to know Yelena has someone with common sense to keep her grounded” Natasha says and inspite of your internal struggle, you smile.

In that moment, Carol clinks her glass gently, getting everyone’s attention. As she speaks, you try to listen to her words -the toast should be mentioned in the article- but your mind is focused on Natasha’s parfum, and the warmth of her body as she stands next to you. Once Danvers is done, everyone claps and you take a breath, thinking it might be a good idea to get some fresh air.

“Sestra, there you are” Yelena walks up to you two, a knowing smirk at your affected state. “I’d introduce you but I believe you already know each other”

“Yeah” you smile, looking anywhere but Natasha. “I’ll leave you to it, gotta talk to a couple more people. Enjoy your evening”

Yelena doesn’t move, so you’re forced to walk very close to Natasha, and the moment your eyes meet you almost forget how to breathe.

The redhead doesn’t miss the way your pupils are blown or the not so subtle way in which you glance at her lips.

She wants to reach out and grab your wrist, turn you around and devour your lips in a messy kiss. Instead, she sees you walk towards your friend.

“See? Aren’t you glad I made you come out of your cave?”

Apparently, your crush wasn’t one sided after all. 

—

The school paper. Natasha barely paid attention to it, even when it was delivered every Monday to her office, same as every faculty member at Lang University. 

This time, she is eager to open it and read your article. There it is, your name and a very long piece about the exhibit. Your prose is exquisite, and you didn’t just deliver an event summary; it’s a deep dive into the department, budget cuts and how students and professors are investing their own resources to keep the course alive.

Right under the dean’s nose. Natasha has to smile; it’s true that Howard Stark was more inclined to favor the Science department and a number of protests had gone unanswered on his side. Most of them came from tenured professors, as part time teachers and students were concerned with some sort of retaliation.

Not you, though.

Natasha is so focused on the article that she misses the knock on her door until Fury comes in.

“Romanoff” he greets. “Picking up on some light reading?”

“Something very entertaining” she turns the pages to show your article and he chuckles.

“She’s got balls” he recognises. “Heard she was talking about it with some art dealers who donate to the university. Apparently Stark is listening now”

“I’m happy to hear that”

“That’s not why I’m here, though” Fury sits down, crossing his legs. “The Foster Grant”

“What about it?” Natasha says, playing dumb. She hates to be the center of attention. “I know I got it, it’s no big deal”

“It is to the department. We don’t want to be the next on the list of budget cuts”

“Maybe we’ll just have to ask Y/N to write an article for us” she jokes, but Fury just smirks knowingly.

“Great idea! Let’s have her write something about your work and the research you’ve been doing” he slaps his knee, standing up. 

“What?”

“Well, don’t look at me like that, it was your idea, Romanoff. Better be this week so it’s on next Monday’s edition” he winks, leaving her office whistling.

As usual, Natasha is blindsided by her boss. How on Earth will she manage a conversation alone with you?

Still, Fury leaves no room for argument, and at the end of Tuesday’s class, you approach her desk.

“I was told you had an assignment for me” you say, biting your lip nervously.

“Yes, that’s right. Something about a research grant, it’s really not a big deal. Sorry that Fury put you up to it” she dismisses the thing like it’s a nuissance.

“I don’t mind at all. Just wanted to check if… when do you want to meet. And where. It would be better around Thursday so I can come prepared with questions and then write everything over the weekend. But I’ll adjust to your schedule” 

“Thursday is fine by me” Natasha nods. “My office? Last class is at 5, so maybe 6”

“Yeah, sounds good” you nod, blushing. “See you then, professor”

How will you survive this?

—

Thursday comes faster than you’d like, and you’re inspecting your wardrobe as if you’re going on a first date. 

Everythig’s too ugly. Why do you have such ugly clothes? 

Ugh, I should just cancel. 

In the end, you opt for a preppy look, with a black skirt and thights, choosing a black and white stripped sweater for the cold weather.

You run into Yelena and Wanda in the living room.

“Where are you going so fancy?” the blonde says, whistling and forcing you to twirl so she can have a 360 of your outfit. “You’re going on a date, aren’t you?”

Wanda, who actually knows about your appointment, covers her mouth to keep from laughing and you glare at her.

“Don’t”

“What? Is it someone I know?” Yelena looks between the two of you.

“Yes. It’s your sister” Wanda finally cracks. 

“It’s not a date!” you rush to say when Yelena turns to look at you. “I’m writing an article about her research”

“Mmm, right” she nods, not believing you. “She asked about you the other day, you know?”

“She did? I mean, what did she want to know?” you try to pretend it’s no big deal.

“She asked if we hooked up. I told her you’re not my type”

“Oh, please. I’m everyone’s type” you huff, picking up your bag before you run late. You still want to stop by the cafeteria.

“You’re certainly Natasha’s” Yelena mumbles, but you miss it. “Good luck on your non date with my sister”

“Not a date… although, what’s her coffee order?” 

“I’ll tell you if you admit it’s a date”

By the time you finally get Yelena to answer, you’re ten minutes late, walking around campus with two coffees and cookies. Knocking with your elbow, you hear a soft come in and figure out how to open the door. 

Juggling everything, you walk into Natasha’s office.

“Let me help you” the woman says, standing up and rushing to your side. You hand over the cup with her name. “For me?”

“Yes”

“Thank you. I’m sorry, I should be the one with a drink to offer. How did you know?” she licks her lips, appreciating the sweet flavor of the caramel macchiato. Her glasses fog from the warmth of the drink and you have to resist the urge to kiss her.

“I asked Yelena” you admit. “Glad to know she wasn’t pranking me” 

“I do have a sweet tooth”

“No worries, I won’t write anything about it” you take a notepad and your phone to record. “May I?”

“Please” Natasha settles behind her desk, appreciating that cute little frown that always appears when you’re focused. You go over your notes for a minute and then nod, ready to begin.

The hour goes by quickly, and Natasha feels proud when she notices you’ve stopped taking notes, genuinely interested and asking about everything she’s been researching for the past year and a half.

“Oh, it’s getting late. I’m so sorry for keeping you here” you apologize, looking at the time. 

“That’s ok, I’m free for the rest of the evening. I cleared my schedule just for you”

The words make your heart flutter. Of course she doesn’t mean anything by it, but how you wished she did.

“So, do you have time for a couple more questions?”

“Sure” 

For you, she has all the time in the world. Natasha could spend all night watching you put that lose strand of hair behind your ear, while you write down your thoughts. 

It’s dangerously endearing.

“I’d like to know… your favorite poem” you ask, more for yourself than for the article.

Natasha takes a deep breath, standing up and walking around her desk. She speaks as she approaches you, in that soft, tender tone that always makes your heart skip a beat.

“I loved you; even now I may confess,

Some embers of my love their fire retain;

But do not let it cause you more distress,

I do not want to sadden you again.

Hopeless and tongue-tied, yet I loved you dearly

With pangs the jealous and the timid know;

So tenderly I loved you, so sincerely,

I pray God grant another love you so”

Natasha looks into your eyes as she sits on the edge of the desk, mere inches away from you. 

In truth, you had expected her to answer with the poem’s title, not recite it to you so passionately.

“Pushkin” you sigh, looking at your hands.

“Very good” she praises, which makes you blush even harder. “It sounds better in Russian, though”

“I can imagine” you say, torn between wanting to hear it or not. You might lose your last sliver of self control if she speaks her native language.

“Is there anything else you need from me?”

You need to kiss her, discover how her lips feel against yours. Hold her hand, guide her up your skirt…

“Yes. I… mean, no, I have everything I need, professor” you snap out of your thoughts, looking flustered. “Thank you so much for making the time to speak to me”

“I always have time for my best student” she says, standing up and walking you to the door. “I’m looking forward to reading your article”

“I’ll try to live up to the expectations”

“I’m sure you will” she says gently, leaning against the threshold of the door. You look at her lips one last time before stepping back, wishing the evening could be prolonged.

Natasha watches you walk away, already missing your presence.

—

You spend the weekend reliving the interview. Thank God you kept recording when Natasha recited Pushkin, because now you have it for posterity.

The article is done, has been since you got back to your dorm. The words flowed effortlessly as you remembered everything Natasha said, and so you spent all night writing and correcting it until it was perfect. Even your editor was impressed when you sent it over.

Now, all that’s left is you, the recording and the view from your window. You listen to Natasha over and over again, hoping her presence migh somehow slip into your subconscious and then, she’ll be in your dreams as well.

As if you had summoned her, Natasha appears outside your window, walking with Yelena. As her sister walks into your building to meet with Wanda, Natasha looks up, waving at you. You remove your headphones, blushing at the fact that you were just listening to her speak on the recording.

“How’s the article coming along?”

“Signed, sealed, delivered” you smile. “I do hope you’ll like it”

“It will be the first thing I read tomorrow” she promises, saying goodbye. This time, you don’t bother to hide the fact that you’re staring as she leaves, and a little part of you feels like Juliet, watching Romeo walk away.

Forbidden love.

No, not forbidden. Unrequited.

With a sigh, you walk away and join your friends, thinking it’s better to distract yourself now that you remember Natasha Professor Romanoff is out of your reach.

Still, you can only fall asleep as you listen to her reciting that poem over and over again. And when you wake up, the resolve to see her again overcomes every fiber of your being. 

So you walk up to her office, knowing very well she’s there at break of dawn.

“Y/N” she says, looking at the paper in your hands. “Come in”

“I thought you’d like to read it. But maybe you’re busy. And you won’t like it or it’s not a big deal to you” you rant, handing it over and turning to leave. “Never mind”

“Stay” is all she says, hand reaching for your wrist. Your heart skips a beat at the contact and you nod, trying to ease your nerves. 

Natasha sits on her small sofa to read the article, and you’re too anxious so you walk around her office, examining the bookshelves. As you approach her desk, you focus on an open book, some notes scribbled along the margins.

“I love it” Natasha says, standing right behind you. You jump, so absorbed by the book that you didn’t hear her stand up and come close to you. She’s now reading over your shoulder. “It’s the Heptameron, by Marguerite de Navarre. I was working on a translation from the German edition”

You can now see the sheet of paper next to the page, Natasha’s writing looking rushed as if she fears the words will be taken by the wind. With a shaky voice, you break the sudden silence in the room, reading the story.

“A handsome young knight is madly in love with a princess

And she too is in love with him

Though she seems not to be entirely aware of it

Despite the friendship that blossoms between them or

Perhaps because of that very friendship

The young knight finds himself

So humbled and speechless

That he's totally unable to bring up the subject of his love

Till one day he asks the princess point blank

Is it better to speak or to die?”

“I found myself thinking a lot about unrequited love this weekend. And so I remembered this little thing” she says in a low voice. “What do you think is better? Speak or die?”

“I think that depends, Professor” you sigh, feeling her hand against your lower back.

“Depends… on what?” she whispers against your ear, making you shiver. “Should I speak about all the times I think of you, of how endearing and wonderful and intriguing you are to me?”

You turn around, cornered against her desk. Natasha’s hands traces a path down your arm, and takes your hand, lifting it to her lips. Your eyes follow the movement, and a sigh leaves your lips at the soft kiss she places on the back of your hand.

“Should I speak about how I wonder what it would be like to kiss you, taste you, mark you, until you’re chanting my name like a prayer?”

This time, her hand travels to your lips, pupils dilating as you allow her to invade your mouth with her finger, sucking gently until she retrieves it, pulling you by the waist.

“Should I speak, then? Or shall we keep pretending neither one of us wants this?” she whispers against your lips. You close your eyes, taking a breath to steady your heart. Her touch, her words, is all too much and you’re afraid it’s all a perfect dream, and at any moment you’ll wake up, alone and desperate for her.

“Please…” you say, leaning forward and capturing her lips in a messy, frantic kiss. Dream or reality, you’ll take Natasha in whatever way you can.

Natasha craddles your face in her hands, spreading your legs apart with her knee. You whine incoherently at her surprising strenght, your hands balled up in fists around the fabric of her pristine shirt. 

“You’re so perfect” she sighs against your lips. “So beautiful”

“Natasha” you plead, wanting to feel her against you, closer, harder. More, more, more until you’re on the brink of destruction and she’s all that exists.

“I want you. Do you want me?” she asks, and you catch the uncertainty in her tone.

“Of course I do” 

If only she could feel how wet you are, all because of her touch.

But there’s a knock on the door, and you both look at the spot, alarmed. Natasha squeezes your hand to reassure you.

“Yes?”

“Just delivering the paper, Professor”

“Leave it outside, I’ll pick it up in a minute. Thank you”

You take a moment to breathe and fix your hair, aware that your lips are swollen from all the kissing.

You kissed your professor. Natasha Romanoff kissed you.

“Are you ok?” she asks, worried about your sudden silence.

“Just wondering if I’m about to wake up from a beautiful dream” you admit, and she smiles.

“Do you dream of me?” she teases, her hand reaching for yours.

“Only when I’m awake”

Natasha smiles, kissing your fingers.

“Would you like to have dinner with me? My place. This Friday”

“Yes. I’d love to”

There’s another knock on the door, but Fury doesn’t wait for Natasha to answer. You jump away from the woman, unsure if this could get her into trouble.

Luckily, Fury is busy inspecting the paper that was dropped outside of Natasha’s office and he doesn’t pick up on anything as he looks up.

“Miss Y/L/N. You wrote an amazing article. Brilliant”

“Thank you, Doctor Fury” you say. “I should head out, my Sociology class is starting soon”

Natasha smiles at you, hoping you understand how much she wishes you could carry on.

But the promise of more lingers in her eyes and so, as you take one last look at her, you return her smile.

“I’m happy the knight spoke, Professor. See you in class” 

“See you in class, Miss Y/L/N”

[checkeredflagggs]

The Story of Us: Chapter 2

pairing: logan sargeant x famous!fem!singer

summary: logan and you have been keeping a secret from everyone but it might be time for it to come out

a/n: while I do my best on most of my works to be race neutral, this one is very very very self indulgent 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n2: this is part 2 of 4/5, which will be released when they’re finished and I’m using pretty much everything from Taylor Swift

a/n3: I still don’t understand instagram so - no one but those that follow you can see a private accounts comments (even on a public post). Also I still hate twitter so I’ve replaced it with Bluesky.

a/n4: Also timelines? Never heard of them. This is set in 2024 but I’ve moved Miami to before Australia

a/n5: happy birthday Logan! The charles post is next but I wanted to get this out for Logan’s birthday!

a/n6: justice for debut and speak now

y/n_gossip

liked by user, user, user, and 12,383,483 others

y/n_gossip: breaking! Coming from unknown sources are apparently leaked photos from y/n’s private phone.

My questions are how was she hacked and who is the guy!

view all comments

user1: what a gross invasion of privacy!

↳user2: seriously! Celebrities are just people too and they don’t need people nosing into their business

↳user1: well said!

user3: mother? has? a? boyfriend?????

↳user4: what! who! when! how! WHAT???

↳user5: this is not what i expected to see when i woke up…

↳user3: right??? Its like looking both ways crossing the streets and getting shit on by a bird…

↳user4: …what???

user6: please do NOT tell me that crazy person is right?? I don’t think I could take it if they were right and it’s Logan Sargeant

↳user53: I think you might have to get used to idea that they were right

↳user19: ok that’s like really rude but I’m gonna ignore it because you’re agreeing with me

↳user7: ok but NO WHERE does it imply that this guy is Logan

↳user8: also where is it said that these photos are of y/n?? She’s been spending a lot of time with yoursister and yourbff

↳user7: more of a long shot but still possible!

↳user19: I’m gonna hold it over your heads for the rest of forever

↳user53: alright let’s roll it back now. Maybe wait to gloat until you’ve actually been proven correct?

↳user19:…fine

Private Messages, Logan and Y/N

f1gossip

liked by not_logan, not_oscar, user, user and 583,902 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, pierregasly, alex_albon, landonorris, georgerussell63

f1gossip: within minutes of the leak of y/n’s photos, several drivers had posted a collection of photos to their stories. Looking closely at them, the range of photos could be taken to mean that they were the guy in the photos with y/n (who people are speculating is her unrevealed boyfriend)

view all comments

user9: ummmm…this is not it guys 😂

user10: I didn’t think silly season was going to include drivers strongly implying they’re cheating on their girlfriends

↳user11: oh my god I didn’t even think of that

↳user12: just wait — give it a few days and the wags will be posting similar photos 😂😂

user13: the desperation radiating from these pics is incredible

↳user14: so is the second hand embarrassment

↳user15: so true. I’m cringing for them jesus

not_oscar: what??

↳not_logan: no

↳not_oscar: what the fuck is this

↳not_oscar: ew

↳not_lilyz: 🤣🤣

↳not_lilyz: ok but i need answers

↳not_oscar: oh ill get some answers alright

user16: ok but tagging them???

↳user17: so bold. I don’t think I could live after it

↳user18: it’s not even about me and I want to crawl under a rock and die

↳user17: big mood

Private Messages, The Grid (Unserious)

Private Messages, Logan and Y/N

williamsracing

liked by user, not_y/n, oscarpiastri, georgerussell63 and 2,234,123 others

tagged: alex_albon, logansargeant

williamsracing: watch as our drivers take on the Duracell RC Challenge and answer fan questions! Full episode out now

view all comments

user20: this is so cute!

↳user21: I know! It’s always so fun to see Logan and Alex clearly enjoy themselves

↳user22: it’s so good to see them smiling!

user23: ok but those questions???

↳user24: forget all the questions — I want to tattoo Logan’s look of mischief when he said cardio was his favorite form of workout

↳user23: oh my god I thought was just me who saw that!

↳user19: well if my girlfriend was y/n, cardio would also be my favorite workout

↳user53: I’m judging you

↳user19: but are you disagreeing with me?

↳user53:…no

↳user19: ha!

↳user23: …are you…flirting…on my comment thread????

↳user19: WHAT? NO. ABSOLUTELY NKT

↳user53: hahaha I don’t now what yours talking about

logansargeant: best media day so far!

↳alex_albon: I don’t know how you did it but I’m sure you were cheating

↳logansargeant: haha 😆 you can’t prove anything!

not_oscar: so we’re being freaks on main now?

↳not_logan: and what of it?

↳not_y/n: yeah don’t kink shame us oscie

↳not_oscar: oh i'm definitely doing more than that

↳not_lilyz: oh like you haven’t done anything freaky too

↳not_logan: ha!

↳not_y/n: thank you lily

↳not_oscar: really love?

↳not_lilyz: 🤭🤭

f1

liked by maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri, pierregasly, and 15,273,273 others

tagged: y/n, y/n_nation

f1: …Ready For It? Y/N has arrived ahead of the Miami GP where she will be singing the national anthem to kickstart the day!

view all comments

user25: classy!

↳user26: she always is!

y/n: it’s an honor to have been asked! And the warm welcome from everyone and their teams have really made the day something special! 🩵

↳logansargeant: oh everyone has been very excited to have you in the paddock!

↳oscarpiastri: very excited indeed

↳charles_leclerc: Bienvenue au Grand Prix ! Vous êtes en effet un spectacle très apprécié à voir! “Welcome to the Grand Prix! You are indeed a very very welcome sight to see!”

↳pierregasly: C'est toujours un honneur d'avoir une jolie jolie fille qui vous attend! “It’s always an honor to have a pretty pretty girl waiting for you!”

↳user27:…I thought the desperation was over…

user28: god what a whore…useless too. Made it too hard to get tickets. Too many silly stupid little girls who don’t know anything about the sport got all the tickets just to see her

↳alex_albon: wow I didn’t know mouths could spew such shit

↳maxverstappen1: I wouldn’t worry about not being able to get a ticket 👍🏻 you’ve been banned!

↳landonorris: not only by the individual teams but by the sport as a whole

↳f1: well said drivers! user28 that is not the attitude that we support here in f1! We welcome (nearly) everyone to the Grand Prix’s whether they’re here to watch the race or to watch y/n!

↳user29:…shut down!

user30: my favorite part of today so far has been how stupid the drivers turned when y/n got close to them!

↳user31: there was absolutely no thoughts in the heads of the Ferrari men

↳user32: (or their girlfriends let’s be real)

user33: I wish someone had gotten close enough to the alpine garage…

↳user34: god I know! The Kelsey brothers were there and based on their faces whatever Pierre was saying was probably outrageous af

↳user35: well he’s publicly called himself a tripod so we know he has no shame

user36: Oscar’s look of disgust whenever Lando and Alex opened their mouths tho…

↳user37: oh he was going through it today

↳user19: Love how logan was just laughing in the background though

↳user53: well if you’re right, they’ve been together for years so he’s probably pretty secure in their relationship…

↳user19: if?!??

↳user53: THERES STILL NO PROOF

williamsracing

liked by not_y/n, georgerussell63, alex_albon, oscarpiastri, and 1,334,274 others

tagged: logansargeant

williamsracing: Logan podium! I repeat!!! LOGAN PODIUM

view all comments

user38: I never thought I’d see the day

↳user39: well damn that’s kinda really rude

↳user38: be so for real right now did you ever think Williams would podium? Let alone Logan??

not_y/n: yeah you’re gonna get the best head of your life tonight babe

↳not_logan: 🥵🥵🥵🤩🤩🤩

↳not_oscar: please for the love of everything keep that shit to yourselves

↳not_y/n: just say you’re jealous and move on Aussie boy

↳not_oscar: why am I friends with you again

↳not_logan: we really didn’t give you a choice

↳not_y/n: we grew on you eventually!

↳not_oscar: like mold

↳not_logan: boo!!

↳not_y/n: boo!!!

oscarpiastri: congrats Logan!

↳logansargeant: thanks man!

alex_albon: congratulations! Show them how it’s done!

↳logansargeant: you know it! But it’s your turn next!

↳alex_albon: 🙌🏼🙌🏼

jv.f1: congratulations

↳user40: what in the world is with this dry ass congrats???

↳logansargeant: thank you!

georgerussell63: Many congratulations Logan! It was great to finally share a podium with you

↳logansargeant: thank you George! Hopefully the first of many!

logansargeant

liked by not_y/n, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 778,445 others

tagged: williamsracing

logansargeant: P3 BABY! WE DID IT! THANK YOU EVERYONEEEEEEEE 🩵🩵🩵

view all comments

user41: CONGRATS LOGAN

↳user42: THATS OUR AMERICAN BOY

y/n: Congratulations Logan! You do Florida and Miami proud

↳logansargeant: thanks y/n! You must be my lucky charm though

↳y/n: Oh no that was all you!

↳user19: 🫵☝🏻🫵🫵🫵🫵☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻

↳user19: THIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT!!

nicolepiastri: congrats Logan!

↳logansargeant: thanks Mom Piastri

↳oscarpiastri: and what of your actual son?

↳nicolepiastri: you’d like a congratulations for 6th?

↳oscarpiastri: well yes?!

↳nicolepiastri: hmmmm whatever you want sweetie. Congratulations on 6th

↳user43: I live for Nicole dragging Oscar

user44: such a great drive today Logan! Show ‘em what Americans can do!

not_y/n: possibility of you sneaking away before media to meet me?

↳not_logan: not likely

↳not_y/n: damn. Well just now I’ve made it back to our place and I’ve found a way to keep myself busy 😉🥵

↳not_logan: you can’t do this to me. Not right before I have to talk to Jensen and Nico

↳not_y/n: 🤭🤭🤭

↳not_oscar: or never. You can do this never

jensonbutton: congrats kid!

↳logansargeant: thanks jenson!

Private Messages

y/n_nation

liked by user, sabrinacarpenter, georgerussell63, zendaya, oscarpiastri, and 19,245,927 others

y/n_nation: Our bags are packed and the flights are here! Welcome to the Eras Tour!

view all comments

zendaya: what a wonderful night 🖤

↳tomholland2013: thanks for dragging me!

↳zendaya: you begged me to go?

alexandrasaintmleux: what a stunning show! Best night of my life!

↳charles_leclerc: what an amazing show y/n! Love your piano work!

↳user48: flirting with another woman right underneath your girlfriends comment??

oscarpiastri: fantastic time!

↳hattiepiastri: THANK YOH OSCSR!

↳not_y/n: glad you enjoyed yourself!

↳hattiepiastri: thank you for the tickets and the sweaters and the records!!

↳not_y/n: anything for my favorite Piastri!

↳oscarpiastri: you’re welcome 😑

alex_albon: by far the best concert I’ve been to!

↳lilymhe: thanks for taking me baby!

↳alex_albon: of course!

↳lilymhe: and thanks y/n for such a magical night 😘

↳user49: what’s with the weird flirting? What’s happening right now???

carmenmmundt: ¡Qué noche tan magnífica! ¡Gracias y/n! What a magnificent night! Thank you y/n!

↳georgerussell63: I loved every moment of it y/n!

↳user50: I see the desperation has found this post as well 😂😂

↳user51: so has the second hand embarrassment 🫣🫣

user52: I can’t feel my face or my feet but oh my god what a magical night

↳user54: absolutely worth it!

↳user52: definitely gonna be the concert of the year!!

Bluesky

[ghostybat]

Damian Wayne is pretty.

This is something that Dick, Jason, and Tim have learned to accept and begrudgingly deal with the consequences of.

Damian was bound to be attractive, what with having Bruce Wayne as a father and Talia al Ghul as a mother; there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he was going to grow up beautifully. And he did.

Long were the days of people cooing over him and telling him, 'Oh my God, you look so much like your father when he was your age.' By the time Damian hit 14 is when he really started to grow into his looks. The older he got, the more obvious it became who he took after.

Damian had inherited a lot from his mother, be it her laugh, her strength, or her flair for the dramatics (though if you were to ask her, she'd say he got it from Bruce). He had also inherited her slight and lean frame along with her height—an even 5'8". His green eyes are a given; however, the long lashes that framed them came from his father, along with his nose and eyebrows. The rest of him was all Talia, which made him look rather soft and delicate, something he was surprisingly never insecure about. He knew his strengths and what he was capable of, and if he happened to look like his mother, then so be it; she's a beautiful woman, and he's honored to have her resemblance.

Now, back to his brothers and how this affects them.

When one is pretty, one gets attention; however, not all of it is good attention. Because Damian has never really taken his looks into consideration, he is completely unaware of the effect he has on people.

This leaves Dick, Jason, and Tim having to deal with the weirdos and creeps trying to get too close to their baby brother.

[quodo-brainrot]

@tuttle-did-it I'm with you on Troi. I really want to like her because the idea of a counselor who is an empath is pretty awesome, but she doesn't even use her empath powers as much as she could when she's counseling people. I'm not a therapist and I've never been to therapy, but I get the sense that the 'therapy' she gives people is little more than armchair psychology.

And yes, they do have to simplify it for the audience, but the simplification of her methods isn't the biggest problem - it's that her therapy simply doesn't seem to work, even when it's made clear that she spends a lot of time working with someone offscreen. It feels like the only purpose that her on-screen therapy sessions serve is so that we can have a place for certain characters to let out their emotions.

Barclay is a prime example of a character who is not going to talk about his feelings anywhere other than in a therapy session because he's too afraid of being judged elsewhere, so those sessions are the only place we get to see what's really eating at him. So it helps the audience, but does it actually help him?

Not really. Barclay is still noticeably a mess at the end of TNG and even into Voyager. And it's true that not everyone responds well to therapy and he might just be one of those people, but I think it's much more likely that the help Deanna gave him wasn't really much more than what you could get from an attentive and caring friend. And it is good to be able to get that kind of help to take the edge off, but trying to present it as the work of the supposedly amazing counselor on the Federation Flagship is kind of laughable.

Dr. Crusher, or any other medical officer, easily could have given people all the same advice that Troi did. I think it would have been much more interesting if Troi's position on the ship was purely for diplomatic and strategic purposes. Imagine if they ditched the 'counselor' angle entirely, gave her a bit of a hard edge and made her as much of an expert on emotional patterns as Uhura was an expert on language patterns.

Instead of just saying 'I sense anger,' imagine if Troi was capable of producing accurate assessments of a hostile's motivations and goals based on the interplay of their emotions, even when it's her very first time encountering a given species.

But unfortunately, the show quite deliberately leaned away from that idea on multiple occasions, as the characters had to explain 'oh no no no, it's not immoral for us to have an empath helping us because we don't use her powers aggressively' or whatever.

I always thought that was a pretty silly thing to do. Why would anyone even bat an eye at the Enterprise having an empath anyway? Realistically, that crew would likely have several empaths. There are many species out there who are empathic and/or telepathic. It's weird that the default reaction is to suspect some sort of moral failing on the part of the Enterprise for using a resource that's actually pretty readily available in the scheme of things.

But if Troi did use her empathic powers to their full potential, it would make it a lot harder to write episodes that involved deception and intrigue. She'd be able to end the plot pretty quickly. I think that's one big reason that they never really showcased her powers as much as they could have.

DS9's Odo suffers from a similar issue in that he'd be WAY too powerful if he could accurately mimic humanoid faces, so as that one post in the DS9 fandom hilariously puts it, Odo is a shapeshifter who's kind of bad at it. But there are legitimately interesting plot points made specifically out of the fact that he's kind of bad at it, and in addition to that, there's a lot more to him as a character than just his shapeshifting powers.

Unfortunately, Deanna didn't get the same treatment. The show tries to set her up to be this really awesome counselor but the results we actually see are pretty mediocre. And the only other role she ever really gets to play other than 'empath' is 'love interest.' Which is a real shame, because I really liked the air of calm and the gentle mischievous humor that Sirtis brought to the character. She could have been so much more compelling if she'd been more fleshed out.

star trek characters will literally go through the most life changing traumatic multidimensional extrasensory eldritch hell torture imaginable and then they're fine and the next episode they gotta deal with a guy who is bald

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request the Itoshi brothers and Bachira with a ballerina reader?

“You can’t possibly be serious.”

Rin didn’t know a lot about relationship and girls, but he still knew when he said that, he crossed a line.

“Oh really.” [Y/N] snapped back at him. Arms crossed across her chest. Glaring at him with that fiery determination Rin usually respected, but now was a little scared of. “So you admit you think my training is BS compared to your training?”

The two of them had been on very intense practice schedules as of late. Rin training up to prepare for his next match and move up, and [Y/N] training for their upcoming performance and hopefully be scouted for prima in a company. They were stressed out, fried, and exhausted. And what do exhausted people do when they are exhausted? Compare their exhaustion so they make sure that their complaints are justified as they are the only one, in the whole wide world, who could be this exhausted.

“I didn’t say it was ‘BS’. I’m just saying you can’t possibly compare what I have to do to what you have to do. The weight training. The cardio.”

“The stretching. The vaults.”

“The practice matches. The strategy management.”

“Learning every step in the performance, even if it isn’t yours, to memory. Being lifted almost 8 feet in the air and hoping your partner can hold so you don’t break your leg, or your neck.”

“The ice baths.”

“Pointe shoes.”

“Having to deal with Isagi!”

The couple growled at each other before [Y/N] finally snapped. “Fine! You think it’s so easy, you do it!”

“Fine!”

Rin would live to regret that.

The next day, to foolishly prove a point, Rin went through [Y/N]’s whole workout schedule with them. The stretching, the vaults, the practice, the lifts. He wouldn’t let himself be lifted, nor wear pointe shoes, but by the end of the day his body hurt in new ways he didn’t even know were possible. “Still think it’s so easy?”

Rin looked up from the floor he was laying on up at [Y/N]. “Fine. I take it back.”

She smiled and knelt down beside him. “Well, I appreciate that. People think because ballet is all pretty costumes and fluid movements that it’s calm & easy. They don’t appreciate the work that goes into it.”

“I’m sorry.” He realized he was doing that. Belittling their hard work.

Rin sat up and took a sip out of his water bottle. “Are you going to do my training tomorrow then?”

“Sure. What’s fair is fair.” She agreed. “But no weights. I can’t bulk up anymore of Madam Costume Maker will murder me.”

Rin scoffed. “We’ll just do an easy day for you then. If you can’t handle it.”

She punched him in the shoulder, but Rin was too tired to even feel it.

One thing that people don’t tell you when you become a professional athlete is that it’s not just about the games anymore. It’s the press.

Sae sighed as he came back to his hotel room. Completely drained from having to deal with people all day and answer their silly questions. He just wanted to play football. Why did he have to tell everyone about his fitness strategy or what brand of saltines he liked?

As he was taking off his coat his phone rang and Sae answered it. “Hello.”

“Thank you for the flowers.”

A small smile tugged at Sae’s lips as he heard [Y/N]’s voice. “Of course.” With his game coming up, he was not in town for [Y/N]’s opening night. He felt bad about it, which was strange, but being professionals in their art sometimes they had to make sacrifices. That didn’t mean he couldn’t make an effort. “How was the show?”

“Good. Early critic reviews seem to be positive.” Of course they were with [Y/N] as the prima. “I wish you could have seen it.”

“I will.” Sae explains that he paid someone to film their performance. He had gotten special permission and everything from the company; with a hefty donation. “I’ll watch it later.”

“You sound tired.”

“I am.” He confessed.

“Poor baby,” [Y/N] cooed. Even though she was the one that went through the grueling physicality of dancing, she still seemed more concerned for him. “Why don’t you take a hot bath and get some sleep then?”

“They don’t believe in baths here.” Or at least his hotel room didn’t.

“A shower then. I’ll see you next week?”

“Of course.”

Sae hung up the phone and sighed again. Still tired, but a little refreshed from talking to [Y/N].

He showered and went to bed as suggested. Getting a goodnight sleep for another press tour tomorrow before the game. When he woke up that morning there was a knock at his door and a delivery from room service. A hearty breakfast of an egg white omelet, fresh fruit, and salty seaweed tea. The kind of breakfast he needed but would never get for himself. After accepting delivery, Sae noticed a card on the silver tray and quickly read it.

:Do your best: was all it said, but Sae knew who it was from.

He sat in his hotel room and ate his breakfast in silence. Watching [Y/N]’s performance on TV. Just because they had to make sacrifices didn’t mean that they couldn’t make the effort.

Bachira had been obsessed with ballerina’s ever since his mother took him to see a show once at Christmas.

The bright costumes. The spins. The music. It always excited him.

Dating [Y/N] was almost like being in the show. Helping them with their choro. Coming to rehearsals to see them practice. Bachira had probably seen the show a hundred times before actually opening night, and yet he was as nervous & excited as the actual dancers.

“You’re going to do great [Y/N]-chan~!” He whispered to her backstage.

“I don’t know…it’s a much bigger crowd than I expected….”

“That’s ok.” Bachira told her. “They’re all just faceless blobs in a crowd. Don’t focus on anyone but me in the first row. Unless…I get removed for cheering too loud. That’s gonna be hard for more….”

[Y/N] chuckled, then kissed Bachira’s cheek. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have made it this far without your support.” The music changed, coming up on [Y/N]’s cue, and they get into position to dance out. “Don’t get kicked out.”

“I’ll try~!” Bachira promised, then went to his seat to watch the performance from the audience. In awe & rapture of the beauty of the show and his partner.

[tojislibrvry]

★ ︵ @ nanami / reader , sūggestıve , jealōusý , māsōchısm

nanami and you have been going out for a few months, and you don't think you've ever been as happy as you are right now. nanami is everything you can ask for, he buys you anything you look at, kisses you like his life depends on it and loves you like you are his religion.

but he also gets so jealous very easily

it's not that he doesn't trust you, not that he thinks you are the kind to stray, he just hates how people look at you, like you are theirs...

it was an office event, and of course nanami invited you as his plus one. making sure he got you the prettiest red dress ever, the way it hugged your body, had him so fucking hard. it was quite modest, the only skin revealed was your legs,,, but anything on you, or nothing on you (doesn't really matter) was enough to make him rock hard in his tailored pants.

"oooh- is this nanami's pretty girlfriend?" a man sauntered up to the both of you, dressed in an expensive white suit to match his hair.

you recognised him, how could you not? this was the very same coworker that nanami would complain to you about during dinner.

"gojo," his voice comes out a little strained, "yes, this is my girlfriend, you might recognise her of course, she interned in our company a while ago." kento answers, hand on your waist pulling you closer.

"awww, isn't she absolutely gorgeous, can't believe nanami got his hands on you before me." he giggles, eyes glimmering with a mischievous glint.

"i'm lucky she decided to go out with me." nanami forces a smile, his grip on your waist becoming tighter.

you gasp and giggle, "nooo... im the lucky one, kento is so kind to me," you say looking fondly at him.

you continue, "oh and thank you so much gojo! you look quite nice yourself." you return the compliment.

suddenly someone calls out to nanami, a fellow coworker and he gets whisked away leaving you all alone with gojo. he smiles like a cheshire cat, the gears in his brain working harder. he looks at nanami from where he is, making steady eye contact as he begins to talk to you.

he tells you about how nanami was actually his junior in high school and how he was really into the emo subculture then, recounting stories of young nanami that made you laugh until there were tears in your eyes. he fishes his phone out to show you a picture, teen nanami brooding and scrawny, hair swept to the side.

of course to you, you were just talking to gojo about your shared love for nanami. but to him, the one way out of earshot to understand the context of your giggling, the green fire of jealousy made its way to his heart.

he slowly makes his way over to you, pulling you away from gojo and hands travelling to your hip. you were still laughing, too far gone to notice the expression on his face.

"what's got you so giggly? hm?" he asks, fingers pinching your thigh. it's not really painful , almost like an ant biting. but you are the kind to bruise easily, red blooming the minute his fingers pull apart.

you are immediately pulled out of your laughing fit, eyes blown wide looking up to nanami. it's almost like he had conditioned you, a little touch to your pretty thighs and you were ready to cum in your little thong.

"o-oh! gojo was just showing me pictures..." you mumble, embarrassed by the heated stare nanami was giving you. you felt so small under his gaze. your tongue comes out to wet your lips, to ease the way your throat has dried up.

gojo stands still in front of the both of you, smirking as he sees the tension build. he knew very well what he was doing. rolling his eyes and happy that once again he managed to piss nanami off, he walks away to the bar.

"i think it's high time we go home, you look needy." nanami rasps out, the hand on your thigh travelling upto your ass and staying there. you nod, words unable to string themselves together.

nanami sighs, eyes darkening and his smile dropping as he guides you towards the exit.

"when we are home, i'm going to teach you to use your words."

[piastri-fvx]

A Ferrari fan and a Red Bull Driver. Max Verstappen.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x FerrariFan!reader, Max Verstappen x Leclerc!reader, social media and a very short irl part

Summary: When Max Verstappen develops a crush on a Ferrari fan, who happens to be a Leclerc.

Word Count: 1,089

Face claim: different girls from pinterest & Sabrina Carpenter

Disclaimer/s: None!! Just fluff and a bunch of bickering.

Authors Note: yayyyy second story, here we go!! Hope u enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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@yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, alexandrastmleux, lorenzotl, jade_distinguinn, charlotte2304 and 637.581.274 others

yourusername family day in the paddockkkk ❤️

| view all comments...

alexandrastmleux trop belleeee liked by creator

-> yourusername my wife 💕

-> charles_leclerc ???

user1 okay but Max posting her...

-> user2 HE DID???

-> arthur_leclerc he did?

-> user3 i smell overprotective brother

-> yourusername @arthur_leclerc don't even

charles_leclerc my favorite little sister ❤️ liked by creator

-> yourusername i'm your only sister?

-> user4 damn 💀

-> user5 i'm so invested in the Max and Leclerc stuff

user6 i need more footage of y/n meeting people in the paddock 😣

-> user7 real

jade_distinguinn 🥰🥰🥰 liked by creator

-> yourusername my loveee 🩵

-> user8 awwww

maxverstappen1 loved meeting you liked by creator

-> user9 what is going on

-> user10 someone please pinch me

user11 you are gorgeoussss liked by creator

-> yourusername thank youuuu

user12 woahhhhh 😍

user13 oh to have y/ns life

@maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, user1, alexandrastmleux, landonorris, estebanocon and 4.284.395 others

maxverstappen1 finally summer break

tagged: @yourusername

| view all comments...

yourusername forza ferrari 🥰

-> maxverstappen1 no

-> user1 i'm afraid she slayed

charles_leclerc why are you posting my little sister???????

-> maxverstappen1 what? which sister? you have a sister?

-> user2 damnnnn, the gaslighting

user3 i'm so invested in all of this

landonorris i don't know about you guys, but this looks like a girlfriend appreciation post to me 🙃 liked by creator

-> user4 i fear he ate

-> user5 damn, lando has a point

-> arthur_leclerc they're not dating

-> user6 he refuses to believe it lmao

user7 the leclerc brothers being in denial is my favorute thing ever

-> yourusername real

-> user8 omg hiiii

-> user9 is that a confirmation?

arthur_leclerc no

-> user10 overprotective brother alert

user11 MAX LIKING LANDO'S COMMENT ABOUT Y/N BEING HIS GF????

-> user12 i'm so glad i get to live in this world

user13 okay but why is no one talking about how pretty she is?? like damn liked by creator

scuderiaferrari she's ours

-> redbullracing she won't be for long liked by creator

-> user14 not ferrari and red bull fighting over her 😭

user15 just fell to my knees in a parking lot

-> user16 valid reaction

------------------------------------------------------

Sitting in the passenger seat of Max's Aston Martin, y/n let out a thoughtful hum, directing her gaze to Max. He glanced at her, noticing the weight of her gaze on him.

"Penny for your thoughts, mijn liefde?" He spoke up, his voice softer than usual. He seemed to have noticed her thoughtfulness as her mind seemed to be racing. He knew the expression on her face all too well.

"What if they're mad..?" She then spoke, her body visibly tensing at the thought. Her shoulders slumped, making his eyes meet hers again, now filled with concern.

"Lorenzo, Arthur and Charles?" He asked, despite already knowing the answer. Of course she was talking about her brothers, she had been quite anxious to tell them about her relationship with Max, and Max knew that.

She tilted her head, her eyes full of nervousness. "Yeah," she simply said, nodding her head and biting her lips, looking out the window of the car to try to distract herself from her thoughts.

"Why would they be? You make me happy. I love you and you love me. They should be happy for us," Max calmly spoke, attempting to make her relax a bit. And he seemingly succeeded, as she slightly relaxed.

"Yeah, you're probably right," She couldn't help but feel butterflies in her stomach as he said that he loved her. He had said it before, since they had been dating for multiple months at this point, but it still felt like the first time.

------------------------------------------------------

@charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, redbullracing, landonorris, lorenzotl and 1.384.294 others

charles_leclerc me when my little sister hangs out with my rival 😒

| view all comments...

maxverstappen1 did someone mention me? liked by creator

-> user1 max verstappennnnnn

user2 lestappen?

landonorris wait until you see his newest post, charles liked by creator

-> user3 i love how invested in this lando is

-> user4 he's just like us

-> user5 he lives for the drama

user6 y/n mentioned

maxverstappen1 me when y/n leclerc 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

-> arthur_leclerc i will fight you.

-> lorenzotl me too. back off, verstappen

-> charles_leclerc i will crash you into the barriers on purpose if you hurt her

-> user7 them wanting to fight max is so funny to me

user8 the last few months on f1 social media have been so amazing 😭

alex_albon max has rizz

-> user9 true

-> user10 preach, alexander albon

user11 do do do do max verstappen

-> user12 i live for that song 😭

@maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, niallhoran, louist91, liampayne, joaofelix79 and 5.482.385 others

maxverstappen1 girlfriend appreciation post

| view all comments...

yourusername mon amourrrrr 🥰 liked by creator

-> maxverstappen1 forever yours ❤️

-> user1 your honor, i love them 😭

-> user2 we got y/n and max together before gta 6

user3 i mean, we did get lestappen ☺️

-> user4 yeah, just with a different leclerc than we thought

-> user5 this is so cute

user6 i hope they get married

-> user7 same

louist91 so happy for you both!! liked by creator

-> yourusername thank you, lou!!

-> user8 i love that she's friends with zayn, louis, liam, harry and niall 😣

liampayne yayyyyyyy!! now she won't have to pine when we text or call and talk about how amazing you are and how much she likes you liked by creator

-> yourusername i'll still do that, what are best friends for? 💕 liked by creator

-> user9 i love her sm

-> user10 i love their friendship

zayn my boy finally got the girl liked by creator

-> maxverstappen1 such a romantic way of saying it

-> user11 so real of them

niallhoran romeo and juliet minus the dying liked by creator

-> user12 so slay of niall to be here

harrystyles wanna write songs about you and him with me? liked by creator

-> yourusername check our chat 🥰

-> user13 HS4?????

-> user14 featuring y/n?

-> user15 y/n in her singer and songwriter era?

-> user16 oh, i am SO here for this

joaofelix79 congratssss liked by creator

charles_leclerc don't your dare break her heart, verstappen liked by creator

-> user17 he wouldn't

-> maxverstappen1 i wouldn't, she'll be my woman forever

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: woooooo!!! second story in two dayssss!! thank you so so much to everyone who liked and reblogged my story, and thank you to everyone who follows me now <333 let me know if you have requests or you want to be on my permanent tag list!!!

[frumdyke]

a breakdown of how i planned and managed this since ive had some people ask:

im writing this just after getting back from a new years eve party. i barely drunkn anything so in theory this should be pretty coherant. unfortunately i have an aversion to commas and apostrophes and also i say the word and way too much. this is gonna be a looong yap i have things to say. oh and the pictures and dates are from me searching through discord messages.

i started planning out the graph at the beginning of july (im going to tit in january.) i used flosscross because im a lil familiar with it but there are probably better programs to use for this because its meant for cross stitch not crochet. i ended up with 17 different colours plus the background. if you include the dark blue and magenta thats 20 separate yarns all together. heres the final graph i worked with (from my discord messages i think this was the 5th of july but i seem to remember spending at least a week on the graph)

before this the most complicated and only tapestry crochet i had done had only three colours so this was a big leap and i didnt know if it would actually work (note that i started crocheting in october 2023.) i knew i would have to keep everything very organised and i would spend most of the time untangling yarns. and i knew it was all gonna be floating yarn but i didnt know at the time that lots of floats and colour changes would make the project smaller. so the cardigan did come out quite tight across my shoulders.

next was gathering yarn. i pulled a few from my stash but most i had to buy. i went yarn shopping in person in two separate trips. i had the list of colours from flosscross which were all in cross stitch terms. as i got home with my first yarn haul i decided to print the colour list and taped some ends to it so i could compare

my printer didnt like this so the colours arent completely accurate. i went back to hobbycraft for more yarn and i had this paper in one hand and the pdf on my phone in the other and i was panicking because this didnt seem possible. i spent a couple hours lamenting that i wasnt in the usa where i have heard about the fabled joanns that has more than ten whole colours in most yarns. i wasnt confident enough to order online because i wanted to hold the yarns in my hand and directly compare the colours. i finally got together a selection of yarns the were good enough.

the plan was to go for all worsted acrylics because theres no way i could afford nice fibres for all these colours. as i went around the shop i realised i was just gonna have to get whatever colours would work and ignore the fibre make up because there is not enough choice of anything in british craft shops. i ended up with lots of different things but surprisingly the fancier fibres where all acrylic blends. so i got some nylon/acrylic some cotton/acrylic and some wool/acrylic. and some yarns were recommending 3.5mm or 3.25mm hooks but i decided to just ignore that and hope. by this point i had decided this was a complete experiment and if it didnt work out i could just learn cross stitch like a sane person would.

i laid out all my yarns and cried a bit because i did not anticipate how much planning i would have to do before i could start making shit. then i decided which yarn would correspond to which symbol on the chart and labelled them all. i was finally ready to start the actual crocheting part (10th july)

i printed the graph out so i could highlight as i went along and got going. here is how she looks now after its all done say hi

the tapestry part was extremely tedious and the yarns constantly got tangled. the rows were only 80 stitches long and some took me a whole hour each. i had to frog some parts but mostly i just left the mistakes in. my tension was really off because of the different yarns weights but i just said "im sure i can block it out" (i have never blocked anything before.) there are a huge amount of yarn tails on this thing so i didnt bother weaving threm in. i just tied them together so they wouldnt unravel and figured i could learn to sew a lining in to hide all the mess away. my number one takeaway from this is do not ever do a project that requires a double digit amount of yarns attached at once. it will suck and you will hate the process.

here are some progress pics. i wish i had taken more but i was quite fed up with the whole project by this point

i thought this was gonna turn out awful at had to fight the urge at multiple points. once i got to their faces i felt a bit better about it but then i got to phil's eyes and had a small breakdown. he is so pale and cool toned with cool toned hair wearing a cool toned outfit. his face and hair just all blends together and his eyes look a little demented here. dan has contrast between his face and hair so he turned out actually quite good.

anyway heres the finished tapestry part (12th august)

dans cheek bulges like that because the pink i used there is the heaviest weight. look at how cinched the middle is though. there were so many yarns being carried across. and the back is just fully spaghetti.

i immediately started planning the sleeves. i knew from the start i wanted them to say "terrible influence" but i had to decide whether it should read from the front or back. either way one side would end up reading "influence terrible". in the end i decided it should read correctly on the back and to also have the writing on the back of the arms so the front wouldnt look too out of wack.

i looked for some patterns online so i could get an idea of where the increases on the sleeves would be. i ended up with 77 rows for the sleeves and i thought "hmm thats seems kinda short but i shall trust the process" (spoiler alert it was too short.) then i went back into flosscross and drew out a whole sleeve and then stuck a big TERRIBLE on it. this part was annoying cus flosscross hides the copy + paste feature behind a paywall. so i had to draw out every letter individually. even the Rs which are literally repeated right next to each other. then i individually drew the magenta shadows in and tried to understand why i chose flosscross of all things to do this. i mirrored the sleeve and stuck an INFLUENCE and then realised id put it in the wrong place but luckily you can select and move bits around without paying.

i cant remember but i think this is when i did the front panels? i thought i did them after the sleeves but from the dates in discord it doesnt look like it. idk. i didnt really do much planning and i cant find any pictures so just imagine some plain blue crochet. i worked up the bottom section pretty fast and just estimated when to decrease by holding it up against my body. then i hated the shape i made so i frogged half of it and started the decreases way earlier and got a nice slope i was happy with.

then i actually made the sleeves. i had to frog the influence side because i realised i had drawn the shadows in wrong. i have some progress pics but i remember i was very excited to make the joke "ive made a terrible" and then never actually made the joke (first is 27th august and last is 10th september)

i sewed up the sleeves and shoulders and left it at that for a while. if you saw the wip photos i posted here for october 19th this is where i was up to. except this was still on 10th september

i took a break from this project started work on a jumper for my mum. that i had already been promising her for six months. that came out really small so i had to make some adjustments and ended up taking forever. i realised that my tension had probably gotten much tighter than when i made my previous jumpers. so the stitch counts i was working with were probably way off for both the jumper and the phardigan. i didnt do any gauge swatches and it shows.

at this point it was november. and i was still burnt out on the phardigan. in this break i bought a ticket to a third tit show. and also had some other life advancements like finally getting an insulin pump which i will never shut up about. i made a couple lil amigurumi creatures and then i was like okay im ready to get going. lets get this phardigan done.

the next step was to add a lining. so i thought maybe i should block it before then. i had no experience with blocking but i did my grandpa's steamer and some floor space. i did try pinning the project down to the towel but that didnt work. and i thought "hmmm perhaps it would best to wetblock this actually" but i didnt want to wait for it to dry. i was also very scared to kill the acrylic cus i wasnt sure how fried plastic would interact with the other fibres. so overall it was a very weak wimpy block. here she is anyway (7th december)

this was a rushed job but i had still spent too long sitting on the floor and my disabilities were playing up and i was struggling. so i half-arsed cutting up the pieces for the lining (i used a brushed cotton pillowcase in a close enough colour for this.) i didnt measure i just went for it. and then i realised my poor left handed brain cant cut a straight line on the best of days. but especially with heavy fabric scissors and an already aching body. yes i know rotary cutters exist. no i dont have one. anyway i forced my sister to cut out all the straight lines for me. i had one big piece that covered the back and went over the shoulders to cover the boobs too. the back was to hide all the yarn spaghetti but the boob lining was just so i could wear pins extra securely. i decided to leave the sleeves alone because the floats were short and the ends were neatly weaved in. then i laid out my big lining piece and folded over the raw edges and realised i hadnt actually factored in any seam allowance and it wouldnt cover the whole width. but i still went with it because i am lazy <3. i also cut out some pockets.

before i sewed the lining in i embroidered this little telly on the front. i thought the front was looking a little bare and it matches the tit set. haha tit set on my tits. look at her shes cute (8th december)

the lining is hand sewed. mostly because i have a comfier chair at my pc desk than the desk with my sewing machine and i couldnt be bothered with swiching them. also my sewing machine can only handle straight stitch at the moment. sad! anyways i did it all with a running stitch and doubled over some parts. i also discovered when i had done almost all the sewing that none of the right angles my sister cut out were actually right angles so i was adjusting the hem on the fly (8th december)

the hand sewing felt like it took ages but in reality was only a few days. at this point i was vibrating with excitement because the finish line was in sight. anyway look there are pockets (10th december)

look how curled those corners are. i am getting an awful grade in blocking

then i did the ribbing which is super easy. originally i had planned to do the ribbing in magenta but now after seeing more stuff about tit i think the blue fits much better with the colour theme. i went round the bottom edge in blo hdc and then did the front too with a little pause to figure out where to put the buttonholes (12th and then 23rd december)

notice theres a jump in the dates there. my brother very kindly gave me the flu and i was unable to get out of bed for a week. ive had the flu vaccine and it still hit me like a truck. pretty please dont infect your disabled friends im barely holding it together as it is. oh sidenote btw if any of you come up to me at tit without a mask on i might actually cry at you. please mask please mask please mask.

yah anyway i added more length to the sleeves. remember when i said the sleeves were too short? yeah i had to add 28 whole rows lol. i dont have any pictures because i did this while watching the doctor who xmas special (mid episode btw) but ill take one now because the phardigan is currently living under my pc desk. i did the extra rows in the round so theres a seam that suddenly disappears but i think it looks fine. and then the sleeve ribbing is sc instead if hdc because i wanted to cinch the cuff in a little bit but not too much. i also got to watch the new wallace and grommet film. i liked it but i had to explain to my sister who the penguin was??? she doesnt know any of the lore??

um so after the sleeves were done i just had to sew on the buttons and weave all the remaining ends in. and then it was fucking finished? just like that. at 22:14 on the 26th of december i sent this message

which was last thursday actually!? insane how time works. and then i posted this on friday and it somehow got 400 notes? it was weird when it was complete. it was like finishing a book. with that weird emptiness that comes with it.

i do have to thank everyone in the various phannie discord servers ive been sharing my progress in. ive had lots of people hype me up and cheer me on. one thousand kissies attack to all of you <3

im very glad this project actually worked. and that i dont have to learn cross stitch. because instead i just started learning to knit. which i am very excited about. last night i started learning colourwork and i am happy to report i havent had any insane ideas yet. but we will check in after ive done a big colourwork project and see how i feel then. maybe dnp will announce another tour and then i will have no choice but to make another phardigan.

um so thanks for reading i guess? im sure my rambling devolved towards the end there but im not reading it back 👍i dont think i hit image limit but i wouldnt be surprised if everything breaks when i press post. if anyone has questions please ask away i love yapping about this project. my ask box is open and waiting. its 6am now and lots of americans are wishing me a happy new year. 2024 was most definitely the year of the phannie and im hoping we can get a streak going. i love you, try new things, dont cry craft etc etc

THE PHARDIGAN IS FINISHED !!!!!!

now with a lining and pockets <3 so many hours spent on this thing im glad its done now

i will be wearing her at tit brighton and london so if you see me come say hi i promise im nicies

[ladybirdswritings]

invisible string - clark kent (superman) x reader

description - you catch the eye of a handsome stranger at a party you dread being at.

notes - david corenswet superman / clark kent au !! reader is bookish and shy, clark is… curious. VERY AU. just a little romance drabble, leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33

part two <3

one…

What am I doing here? The words echoed in your head like a pulsing poison, eating away at your brain like ants to honeycomb.

Your brother was off sitting in a circle, fawning over cars, football, and all else that fueled testosterone and silly male enjoyment.

And then there was you, hugging the corner like an old lover, its shadows mirroring your open embrace.

“We should go over there,” declared Kate, a ringlet of her curl dancing with the springtime breeze. “You know, to see what the boys are talking about.”

No. No no no no no no—

“Yeah, we should!” Oh, if people wouldn’t see it as odd for you to slam a hand against your cheek…

There was a glaze over your pretty, fretting eyes and restless mind, a honeyed glaze slick with doubt and dissociation. You’d pushed yourself enough by coming here, and now you were being led like lamb to cleaver—ready to face your slaughter at the hands of—oh.

So busy was your mind that you might have kept your head bowed if not for subconscious pleasure.

His boots were shiny, and his denim tailored—and it’s all you paid attention to before your gaze shifted upward to find two remarkable blue-gray eyes peering in curiosity.

“Clark!” he blurted, offering a strong hand, and if you had half a mind, you would have realized it wasn’t politeness but interest.

You, always so caught up in doubts and hyperfocusing on imperfections. So caught up that you never quite saw what mirrored in men’s eyes when they gazed hungry at you: intimidation. You were strong, intelligent—and God—so pretty. Yet you could only breathe in your lack.

So no, when the handsome flannel boy with glasses far too big for his chiseled face and unruly raven hair—when his southern-kissed greeting met your ears, you had no idea it was a game.

A game between the men.

First to catch her interest would be first to have her.

But Clark was different. He wasn’t interested in feeding off the competition, he wanted to beat them to it. To offer you what they could not. But you knew none of this. You only knew that he greeted women as if a fire was forcing his hand.

“Y/N,” you warmed with a smile, shaking his hand in turn. He pulled back, gazing at his palm for a moment before a pinch settled between his brows.

“This is my sister, everyone. And this is my girlfriend, Kate.” Your brother strung Kate to him like a fly to spiderweb. She became smiley again, saying, “We got bored and decided to eavesdrop.”

“Be our guest,” Clark offered, the southern tang to his voice so soft you had to drown out the world to catch it. His eyes were on you, but your head was too bowed to realize.

Your gaze flickered to Kate sitting atop your brother’s lap. You shifted on your feet.

Vance, your brother’s friend, whom you had an insufferable crush on, stood in unison with Clark.

Their gazes locked in a silent contest you were too innocent to realize before Vance, frustrated, laughed breathily and sat back down.

“Oh no, it’s fine—” you began, but Clark shook his head, stepped aside, and motioned to the armchair. His gaze was so severe you had no choice but to comply.

You shuffled over awkwardly, finding your seat—only Clark stood beside you. He smelled of honeyed whiskey, chai, old books, and firewood. You stared at his veined hand on the arm of your seat, your mind wandering for a moment… What might that hand feel like against your skin?

“Surprised you guys aren’t over there yapping about books,” Vance began, his coal-colored eyes blanketing your face like a sinful dare.

It would never work. He was the moon, and you were the sun, warm and bright opposed to cold encased by darkness. But for months, his subtle flirtations evoked a lonesome part of your heart. Perhaps it was the lesser part of you, used to unhealthy men, that made you bend toward his attention like a starved flower. Regardless, you did, and it never made you feel less awful after parting.

When your gaze broke from his, you giggled shyly in unison with Kate, but that strong voice sliced through, commanding your attention again.

“You like to read?” he asked.

You flicked upward to Kate, only to find her chocolate stare upon you.

Oh… he was asking you.

“Um—” you began, nervous to have attention on your voice. “Well, yeah, sort of.”

“Sort of?” he tested with the lazy beginnings of a smile. You realized then how silly you sounded.

“Do you read?” you asked Clark, allowing your curiosity to bring your eyes back to him. As if he were a marionette, and you his new puppet, being pulled by an invisible string so he might study your pretty eyes. Were they always so warm and doe-like? Or had the wine made them more gentle? He wondered as you turned the question onto him.

“I do,” he replied, but when you grew shy and quiet again, he winced at himself. His icy gaze stuttered toward Vance, and he knew then that he’d have to open his mouth if he wanted your attention. He’d just have to work a little harder, and that was okay.

Usually, pretty girls like you would flock to him with no effort needed. Something about him looking like a Pinterest boyfriend, and all he had to do was sit and attract. But you… something about you told him you weren’t like the rest.

“I uh— I do.” He continued, breaking the stretched silence. “Sally Rooney—” he began, but you cut him off immediately.

“You read romance?” Your eyes widened, and your body turned toward him, and for a moment, you were completely lost in his words.

He didn’t pause or flicker with annoyance at your enthusiasm but instead gave you a lopsided grin.

“I do,” he confirmed. Though not a lie, he found himself a fisherman who’d hooked you with the most irresistible bait. Pretty, mysterious, shy girl you were—now he’d get you to talk. “Do you?”

Kate cut in, “We read about fairies and dragon riders.” You flushed a pretty pink with an embarrassed laugh. He peered down at you, giving Kate only a ghostly laugh of acknowledgment.

“You like fantasy, then?” he said so low it was as if the conversation was reserved for only the two of you.

As if fate were aiding his hand, the others fell into comfortable conversation. Not you, though. You were pinned under his grayed gaze.

“I read anything with a good love story,” you answered, so honestly, it surprised you.

“I like that,” he said simply, as if he were talking to himself. When he realized it, a pinch snaked between his brows, and you couldn’t help but softly laugh. He mirrored you. “What?”

“You’re likely the only man alive who does, if you’re telling the truth.”

“Well I—” he began, but your brother cut in.

“Ready to head out, Y/N?” You noticed just how entranced you’d been in this handsome stranger, not for his pretty face or interests, but for his words. The rest never mattered—not for you anyway. You often found it hard to capture any man’s attention, let alone the handsome ones. Even so, a lick of disappointment thrummed in your heart.

You dared to wonder what might happen if you offered your social media so he could contact you again. But the idea sped your heart and widened your eyes, so you stood with a nod.

Vance offered you a warm hug, and you merely waved at the others before turning to Clark—well, Clark’s chest. He towered over you, his honeyed whiskey scent licking your senses as he pulled you into a warm embrace. Gentle, curious, as if testing the feel of your body against his. Stranger to stranger—but he was so warm, so confusingly familiar.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N,” he spoke first, pulling away. Swayed by his warmth, you could only nod.

Now was your chance. Your once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to ask for a way to keep in contact with this mysterious stranger. But you cowered when you glanced up at his pretty face.

Fate wasn’t kind, and in your mind, you decided there was a model waiting for his warmth at home—and you were only allowed to entangle with him for a moment, never again.

“You too, Clark…”

Then you were off, never to see the mysterious stranger ever again.

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Levi: Sorry I’m late, practice draaaaagged today-.. what’re we doing? Robin: We haven’t decided yet. Levi: I thought you’d be at Aster’s again, he said he was busy tonight. Alex: Aster’s? Robin: We’ve been.. hanging out. Levi: [laughs] Hanging out. Alex: Wha-.. why didn’t you tell me?! Robin: I didn’t wanna be the one to out him! Alex: So, how come he knows? Levi: I set them up! [Robin desperately tried to decipher Alex’s reaction, but the look of frustration on her face didn’t exactly tell him why she felt that way or what she was thinking] Alex: Why? Levi: Just a little social engineering-.. except stupid Aster’s in denial or whatever, but it’s fine, I have another plan! Robin: He doesn’t, don’t listen to him. Levi: I-… Alex: Do you even like him?! Robin: Well, I’m still getting to know him… Levi: What’s the problem-.. you’re not jealous, are you? Alex: No! Levi: I could set you up with someone too? I’m pretty sure Harry has a thing for you. Alex: Pfft, he does not-.. and all this manipulation doesn’t feel right. Levi: It doesn’t have to be a big deal-.. no one’s asking you to marry the guy, geez. Alex: No. Levi: [scoffs] Fine, your loss. Alex: You’re just trying to force everyone together so you don’t have to choose-.. you can’t just throw people at each other for your own benefit! Levi: Who said it was for my benefit? Alex: Please, it’s obvious you’re only thinking of yourself. Robin: Guys-… Alex: How would Aster feel if he knew he’d been socially engineered, or whatever-.. ‘cause I doubt you’d like it! Levi: Oh my god, relax! Alex: You should-… [With a deep breath and her fists by her side, Alex stopped herself abruptly, turned on her heel, and left] Levi: [tuts] Girls take everything so seriously. Robin: I don’t know, maybe she’s got a point…

…

Robin: Wait! Alex: I didn’t want to say something I couldn’t take back… Robin: I don’t mind, you can say anything you want. Alex: Yeah, with you, but-… Robin: But? Alex: I just-… Robin: Just what?! I can’t read your mind, Alex! … … Alex: I don’t think Levi has your best interests at heart sometimes, that’s all-.. and it’s not fair to manipulate people! If you could just tell people what to do, would you do it? Robin: No… Alex: Exactly, no one should have that type of control. Robin: I’m just trying to help him. Alex: Maybe you should think about yourself once in a while.

…

Levi: Hey, wait up! Levi: Is she in a mood? Robin: I don’t know. Levi: Maybe she is jealous-.. where’re you going? Robin: Home. Levi: Can I come..? Robin: Sure.

[in-finitives]

originally wrote a bunch of other hcs down in tags because that's where i live but then i realized only 30 or so get put on post and then they delete so here's my addendums to save for myself

piper n reyna's relationship:

reyna's story is one of accepting expectation and living up to it.

piper's story is one of denying expectation and contradicting it, because she doesn't like what comes with it / people not liking her because she's something other than piper (i.e. people r friends w her because she's her father's daughter, her father's money, her mother's beauty, etc). piper is sick of other people controlling her life, deciding what she does and doesn't get, and feeling like she hasn't earned anything

piper is originally weird about the relationship for obvious coming into sexuality reasons + it feels like another expectation. another thing her mother gave to her, another thing built on other people's expectation

reyna is against the relationship because it goes against her duty. like she mentions sometime in SoN, praetors get in relationships with each other because it's good for rome or whatever. can you imagine if she was dating a greek?? that would feel like a complication to her duty

AND

piper's read enough myths to know about pretty women who betray their families for the hero. she is NOT going to be one of them, feeding into her whole traitor-dad arc

but as their arcs grow in anti-parallel, they both come to admire each other

piper admires how reyna is so independent, so strong, and so sure of herself. reyna admires how piper doesn't concede into what other people want.

reyna starts finding an identity outside of CJ and outside of her duty & symbolically, being in a relationship with piper signifies doing something for herself rather than doing something for rome

piper realizes that by automatically going against expectation is still allowing it to control her and she should instead listen to her own feelings

lowk should've been what rr did with jason/piper in the first place if he wanted it to stick but oh well

back in cj

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT HOW JASON LOOKS LIKE LUKE AND WHAT THAT DOES TO ANNABETH!!!

but first some other points

op and others had good points about annabeth that were tragically heartbreaking so i'm going to switch focus to jason

can you fuckin imagine jason at this time

percy refuses to help hera and is literally taking the gods by the throat, but jason probably doubles down and is trying to appease the gods

he thinks this is retribution. he thinks they've messed up

he thinks if he is a good hero, reyna can come back

and then 6 months later annabeth shows up

guys. Guys

jason looks exactly like luke. blonde general with a scar on his lip ?!

annabeth looks at him like she's seen a ghost

she's thinking of a traitor brother, a brother who was too good to be true, who was kind and friendly to all the outsiders, who was the leader of camp, who betrayed her

and she sees jason ... who is exactly all that

and in canon we always get her saying jason is 'too perfect' and unnerving to her

BECAUSE HE REMINDS HER OF LUKE!

and can you imagine if she hears his last name and goes oh. Oh

can you imagine jason finding out she knew his sister

the sister who (he thinks) abandoned him

the sister who has grown a new sister

a new family, with a boy who looks exactly like him

he's been replaced. he's been replaced, and this girl has never been abandoned by his sister like he was

and annabeth is standing there, now perfectly aware that she has replaced this kid in a family that wasn't supposed to be her's, but was, in a family that loved her and cared for her, and she sees the kid who has nothing, not even a best friend

CAN YOU FUCKING IMAGINE

annabeth probably originally distrusts him when she doesn't exactly remember the whole luke/thalia thing, jason is probably jumping to get on the quest because if he can please the gods he can get reyna back

also [later] jason finding out that percy and annabeth has done more for demigods by being rebellious little freaks than he has his whole life despite being the perfect hero

can you imagine what that does to him

'oh you got demigod children claimed and recognized by sitting on the gods throne and sassing them ... you were offered immortality, and i wasn't?'

even though he was the perfect hero

even though he did everything they ever asked

AND THEN

then he meets reyna again and the one person who shared his identity, the one person who shared his duty, has. ... escaped?

can he escape too?

but he's son of jupiter, he's never been more than that, how could he possibly escape?

then he finds out reyna has now met his sister ... and it feels like everyone he knows has met her except him

why wasn't it him? if he was son of jupiter, perfect hero, why wasn't he in chb? why leave him where he is useless, was he not good enough the first time?

we see reyna escape at the end. reyna realize she is more than a hero, realize reyna has learned she's not just the gods' chess piece. we also see her go through the same arc percy did in pjo if she's not at the final battle → sometimes being the hero is not about stepping up, but learning when to step down. she may not have been at the battle, but she empowered others to have won it (also works nice thematically w her powers)

reyna escapes. jason never does. he stays at cj, too scared to find out who he is. when leo (allegedly) dies, jason is thinking, it should've been me. he's the hero. so he stays at cj. he stays because what if what he finds is something he doesn't like, what if who he is, is not who he is supposed to be?

makes toa all the sadder

anyways yeah that's my 2 cents

Thinking about a concept where Juno swaps Annabeth and Reyna instead.

Annabeth and Reyna are fine, because they’ve always been able to handle just about anything the gods threw at them. Piper accidentally has her gay awakening via fake memories of a relationship with Reyna and is really confused why her girlfriend is acting so weird. Reyna and Leo bicker non-stop because even without her memories Reyna knows what she’s doing and she’s very used to getting people to listen to her but Leo will not be serious for even one second.

Percy would start fist fighting the gods in the first week. Jason has never been more stressed in his life because he never even wanted to be praetor but it was manageable while he was doing it with Reyna and now he’s alone. What the hell is he supposed to do.

By the time Annabeth shows up at Camp Jupiter, Jason is so relieved someone knows what they’re doing that he immediately asks her to be praetor, now if she’ll excuse him he needs to go have an anxiety meltdown in a corner somewhere

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

When Steve invited Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Robin, Vickie, Eddie, and Chrissy over for New Years, he really didn't think it through. They were all coupled together, and Steve wasn't. Even Argyle brought his current lover to the party. Steve had quickly disappeared into the kitchen and cursed.

"You're so fucking stupid, Steve," he told himself.

Sure, he was happy by himself, but he also liked romance. . .he liked being with people, especially with people he cared about. The dating game had been depressing for him since spring break. The minute he took off his shirt, suddenly, they needed to leave. He even thought he got lucky once when he almost hooked up with a guy. Steve had taken off his shirt, and the guy looked at his scars, softly said "ew" before making an excuse to leave. It had been quite hurtful, so Steve just decided to stop trying, and he hated it because while he was happy that he had his friends, his family, he was also lonely. He loved spending time with Eddie and Chrissy, too, but they just reminded him that he didn't have a partner. Steve couldn't decide which one of them he was jealous of.

"Hey, big boy," he heard Eddie's voice.

Steve turned around to find Eddie and Chrissy standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Are you alright, Steve?" Chrissy asked.

"Uh, yeah. . .I just really didn't think this through," Steve said. "I don't have anyone to kiss at midnight."

"Well, hell, I'll kiss you," Eddie said, waving his hand at him.

"What about Chrissy? She won't have someone to kiss," Steve said.

"Shit, yeah, that's true," Eddie frowned.

"We'll both kiss you!" Chrissy exclaimed rather cheerfully.

"How?!" Steve and Eddie asked.

"Well, Eddie will take one corner of your mouth, and I'll take the other," Chrissy said.

"It could work," Steve said thoughtfully and then tried to make a joke. "Yeah, okay, but don't go falling in love with me. . ."

Eddie and Chrissy shared looks of amusement before looking back at Steve.

"Too late," they said.

"What?" He asked.

"Oh, come on, I thought we were obvious," Eddie scoffed.

"We did keep inviting you out on our dates, and we kept asking you if you wanted a sleepover," Chrissy said. "And then you stopped hanging out with us for a while."

"Yeah, we assumed you weren't interested," Eddie shrugged.

"But I - I thought I was getting in between your relationship with Chrissy," Steve said.

"That's exactly what we wanted, sweetheart," Eddie said.

"But - I, uh, - both. . .at the same time? I never thought - ," Steve said, and he ran a hand through his hand. "I didn't know which one to choose, and I never thought I could choose both."

"There's nothing stopping you," Chrissy said as they moved closer to him.

They stood on either side of him, basically locking him in.

"My dating skills might be a little rusty," Steve blushed. "It's been pretty disastrous over the last few months. No one's really wanted to look at me, let alone touch me. One guy went literally went ew when he saw my scars."

"And you think Chrissy and I know what we're doing? I haven't dated anyone, and the last relationship Chrissy was in was arranged by her mother. We're all figuring things out," Eddie said, and then what Steve had said sunk in. "Wait. . .what guy said ew to you?"

"It doesn't matter," Steve said, blushing as Eddie wrapped a comforting around his shoulder.

"Give me a name, Steven," he said softly. "I'm just going to talk to the guy."

"Yeah, but I feel like you're not going to use your words," Steve said frowning.

"You can't kill him, Eddie," Chrissy giggled.

"And why can't I?" He asked.

"Because you just got off the murder charges over spring break, I don't want you to go to jail," Chrissy said.

"Oh, so, when I want to kill a guy, I have to stand down, but when I tell you not to kill a guy, I'm supposed to just let you pout about it for a month," Eddie said and waved his hand at her. "Ah, double standard."

Eddie flashed his dimples at Chrissy as she laughed.

"Who did you want to kill?" Steve asked.

"Andy," Chrissy said.

She started playing with the buttons on Steve’s collar. He had his button-up done all the way up to hide the scars around his throat.

"You should have just let her kill him," Steve said.

"Yeah, well, I think it's a possibility. I think she might be scheming with Nancy," Eddie said.

"I am," Chrissy said with a giggled.

All of her focus was now on Steve’s shirt. She was popping it open one by one, and Steve didn't stop her from going all the way down. . .curious at what they would say. Finally, Chrissy had it opened, exposing his torso and his scars. Her fingers trailed down from the scar around his throat to the scars on his lower abdomen.

"You're beautiful inside and out, Steve," Eddie breathed, tucking a hair behind his ear. "I think you forget that I have scars too."

He grabbed Steve’s hand and brought it underneath his shirt, letting Steve feel it. Chrissy brought her lips to Steve’s throat, kissing his scars gently. Eddie did the same, burying his head into Steve’s neck. Steve’s eyes fluttered, and he moaned as Eddie's hand went to the scars on his stomach. . .right above the belt. God, it felt like he was being devoured. . .in a good way, though.

"Shouldn't we save the kissing for midnight?" Steve gasped as Chrissy nibbled at his skin.

"That's only for the lips," Eddie whispered. "Doesn't mean we can't kiss you anywhere else. . .big boy."

"Hey!" They heard Robin yell. "You're going to miss the ball dropping!"

Steve hurried to button his shirt up and tuck it back into his pants as he rushed back into the living room after the others.

"You missed a button," Robin said in amusement and then grinned. "Slut."

"Definitely," Steve laughed.

"Chrissy's lipstick is all over your neck," Robin said and then looked over at Eddie. "And if Eddie was wearing lipstick?"

"It would be there, too," Steve blushed.

"Happy for you, dingus," Robin said.

"You're about the miss the ball dropping, Robin," he said.

"Oh, right!"

3. . .2. . .1!

Eddie and Chrissy kissed Steve on the corners of his mouth just like they said they would. It was so soft. . .so gentle. . .so perfect.

"Happy New Year," Eddie and Chrissy said, taking his hands in theirs.

"Happy New Year," Steve whispered, a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.

He had been happy before, but he was happier now, and maybe it had something to do with being wanted twice. . .not just for his body, but for who he is. Yeah, a Happy New Year, indeed.

[amiaclone]

oh btw i forgot to add that i’m requesting for fem reader x semi (player 380) so like wlw (sry for sending you a double ask! )

It’s fine ask as much as you like!

Se mi/Semi x fem! Reader

Tw: cursing and usual squid game stuff

You sighed flicking a piece of hair out of your face

You wanted to go home but unfortunately the 0s won again….

You were originally here for treatment over your dog at home he was sick and you didn’t have the money and nowhere to go so you thought this was fine….

Too bad life had others plans

Some of the people in here we’re dangerous so it was best to have an alliance

Too bad two of them we’re extremely annoying

Thanos and Nam-Gyu who you usually call Thanos’s side dick and Gyeong su was ok at best

Min su was alright you felt bad for him due to how Nam-Gyu treated him

And then there was the one girl alongside side you….Semi, pretty name

You and her clicked the second you met maybe it was a soulmate thing but yet you barely spoke words you’d usually just stare at each other peacefully

You were honestly kinda scared to fully talk to her in your defense shes honestly really cool you didn’t wanna mess it up she’d talk to you occasionally but mostly you and her had other things to do

Now here you were tuning your alliance out until someone approached you

“Hey barely spoke to you even though we’ve survived two games together.”

It was Semi

You awkwardly coughed smiling a bit “Yeah, just….been trying to live barely…”

She smiled a bit “These two games have been tough for no reason whatsoever…what do you plan on doing with the money?”

You sighed “Need it for a sick loved one….i could get out with money now but unfortunately don’t think i can leave..”

She stared sympathetically “Well sorry you haven’t had much luck…if it makes you feel better I’ll vote x next round for you.”

“Why would you do that?” You quirk an eyebrow

“No reason I’ve been observing you and honestly you’re really pretty glad I met you even if we’re in a terrorist of a game.”

Short butt hope you liked it!