#Beauty industry academies

[world-of-celebs]

Margot Robbie attends the 96th Annual Academy Awards on March 10, 2024 in Hollywood, California.

[ukbeautyschool]

Why Every Aspiring Makeup Artist Should Enroll in a Professional Makeup Academy?

The beauty industry is thriving, and at the heart of this growth are makeup schools that transform looks and create trends. But becoming a successful makeup artist isn't just about a passion for beauty—it’s about mastering techniques, understanding trends, and building a reputation. For aspiring professionals, the smartest step forward is enrolling in a makeup academy. Let’s explore why joining a beauty school is crucial for anyone serious about a career in makeup artistry.

Structured Learning and Curriculum

One of the main reasons to enroll in a makeup academy is the structured curriculum. Learning makeup artistry on your own can be overwhelming due to the vastness of the techniques and trends in the industry. A beauty school offers:

Comprehensive Coverage: From basics like blending and color theory to advanced techniques such as airbrushing and editorial makeup, students receive well-rounded training.

Sequential Learning: The syllabus is designed to help students build skills gradually, ensuring they master one concept before moving to the next, making learning efficient and thorough.

Expert Guidance: Instructors in a makeup academy are professionals who offer hands-on training and share industry insights that you won’t find in books or online tutorials.

Mastering Techniques and Tools

Becoming a proficient makeup artist requires a deep understanding of various techniques and the tools that can bring them to life. A makeup academy teaches students how to work with:

High-End Products: Students learn the best practices for using professional-grade cosmetics, brushes, and tools, allowing them to deliver top-quality work in the real world.

Precision Techniques: Whether it’s creating a flawless complexion or achieving perfect symmetry in contouring, a beauty school provides the knowledge necessary to refine these critical techniques.

Current Trends: The beauty industry evolves quickly. A makeup academy helps future makeup artists stay updated with the latest techniques and trends, ensuring their skills are relevant and in demand.

Practical Experience and Hands-On Learning

One of the most valuable aspects of attending a makeup academy is the extensive hands-on experience students receive. In makeup artistry, practice is key, and a professional beauty school offers:

Real-World Scenarios: Students work on live models, learning how to adapt their skills to different face shapes, skin types, and client needs.

Diverse Looks: From natural daytime looks to glamorous evening styles and editorial avant-garde creations, students practice a wide variety of makeup techniques.

Exposure to the Industry: Many academies collaborate with brands and industry events, allowing students to gain real-world exposure. This practical experience is invaluable for any makeup artist looking to build their career.

Building a Professional Portfolio

A strong portfolio is essential for any makeup artist. It showcases an artist’s skills and versatility, helping them stand out in a competitive industry. A makeup academy helps students develop a professional portfolio by:

Providing Diverse Opportunities: Students can include a range of makeup styles in their portfolio, from bridal and fashion to special effects makeup.

High-Quality Images: Makeup academies often work with professional photographers, ensuring that the portfolio images are of the highest quality.

Continuous Feedback: Instructors guide students on how to present their work, helping them build a portfolio that attracts clients or employers.

Access to Industry Mentors and Networking Opportunities

In the world of beauty, networking is essential. A makeup school connects students with seasoned professionals and opens doors to career opportunities:

Mentorship: Instructors at a beauty school often act as mentors, offering career advice and helping students navigate the challenges of the industry.

Industry Connections: Many makeup academies have established relationships with brands, photographers, and event organizers, providing students with job referrals and introductions to key industry figures.

Networking with Peers: Fellow students can become future collaborators, colleagues, or even clients, and the relationships formed at a makeup academy often last long into one’s career.

Certification and Credibility

In an industry where credibility is key, completing a course from a reputable makeup academy provides a distinct advantage. Certification from a prestigious institution, like UK International London Beauty School, helps aspiring artists:

Boost Their Reputation: Clients and employers are more likely to trust a certified makeup artist who has undergone formal training at a renowned makeup academy.

Increase Employability: Certification adds weight to a resume, opening doors to opportunities in fashion, film, bridal makeup, and more.

Global Recognition: Graduating from a recognized academy can allow makeup artists to work internationally, as their certification is acknowledged globally.

Confidence Building and Professionalism

Confidence is essential for any makeup artist, and a beauty school helps build it:

Feedback and Guidance: Instructors provide constructive criticism, helping students grow without fear of failure. This continuous feedback loop builds confidence and skill simultaneously.

Learning Professional Conduct: Professionalism is a major component of success in the makeup industry. A makeup school trains students not only in artistry but also in soft skills like client communication, punctuality, and etiquette.

Problem-Solving Skills: Real-world experience and challenges at a Beauty academy help students learn to adapt, improvise, and find solutions in high-pressure situations, preparing them for the demands of the job.

Career Flexibility and Specialization

After graduating from a makeup school, the possibilities for career paths are broad and varied. Students can choose to specialize or diversify their skills:

Freelance Makeup Artist: Many graduates become successful freelance makeup artists, working for weddings, special events, or private clients.

Film and TV Makeup: The film and television industry requires specialized skills, such as prosthetics and special effects makeup, which many makeup academies offer as part of their advanced courses.

Fashion and Editorial Makeup: Graduates interested in fashion can work with designers, photographers, and models for runway shows, fashion magazines, or editorial shoots.

Cosmetic Brand Representative: Some artists may go on to work with cosmetic brands as product specialists, trainers, or brand ambassadors.

Specialization Courses and Advanced Learning

A makeup academy encourages students to continue learning even after graduation:

Advanced Courses: Many academies offer further education in areas like bridal makeup, theatrical makeup, or skincare, allowing students to specialize and refine their expertise.

Staying Up to Date: The beauty industry is constantly evolving, with new trends and technologies emerging every year. A makeup academy provides continued learning to keep artists relevant and competitive.

Personal Branding: Some academies also offer courses in business development, teaching makeup artists how to market themselves, manage clients, and build a personal brand.

Financial Investment with Long-Term Returns

Attending a makeup school may seem like a significant financial commitment, but the return on investment is undeniable:

High Earning Potential: A certified makeup artist with professional training can command higher fees and access better job opportunities than those without formal education.

Career Longevity: The skills learned in a makeup school provide a foundation for long-term career growth, whether working independently or with major brands.

Financial Freedom: Freelance makeup artists often have the freedom to set their rates and work on their own terms, leading to greater financial independence and job satisfaction.

Conclusion

Enrolling in a professional makeup academy is not just an educational step—it’s a career-defining move for any aspiring makeup artist. The structured learning, hands-on experience, and industry connections offer a solid foundation for success in this competitive field. Institutions like UK International London Beauty School provide the certification and credibility that set professionals apart, helping them build a rewarding career in the ever-growing beauty industry.

[londonbeautyacademyofficial]

[chlmtsdoll]

I’VE ALWAYS DREAMED OF…

౨ৎ Pairing: Art Donaldson/Tashi Duncan x female reader, Art Donaldson x reader, Art x Tashi

౨ৎ Summary: after being dismissed from your ballet academy and your dreams of being a dancer come crashing down, you decide to take on a new accomplishment — becoming a tennis protege to Tashi and Art.

౨ৎ Word count: 2.4k

౨ৎ Warnings: no use of y/n, inexperienced!reader, age gap (reader in early 20’s) dilf/milf age Art & Tashi, talk of oral (F reviving), fingering, size kink ? corruption (ish), mention of masterbation, brief mention of ED, pinning Art, needy reader, I have literally 0 knowledge of sports//tennis so if everything is inaccurate I’m sorry. I’m simply just a romantic smut addict who loves these characters 🤍

౨ৎ part two | three | four

You wouldn’t have wished that full body shock sensation of that day on your worst enemy. Never in a million years would you think all that discipline, bloody feet and overextension on your body to the point of black outs and collapse would have lead to that moment — the day you got dismissed from your ballet academy.

It had been your dream since a little girl to form a stable career as a traveling ballerina. To dance on European stages and tour around different countries doing what you loved. What set your heart on fire. But when you started to grow out of your bodies potential form, now in your early twenties, the instructors had to make the final decision to cut you from your class. You could no longer dance.

No one told you that after you turned around seventeen you’d no longer be the ‘correct’ body shape to be a ballerina. Not any doctors, not your parents — it was all fine up until your twenty first birthday. But even after you got the news that you were entering a red zone, you starved, and you looked into surgeons that would make you look like the ideal ballerina, but nothing was up to the terms of the academies you had qualified for.

The depression of your once life long dream had taken a complete toll over you for a year until you had to pick yourself up again.

Somewhere at least

You tried out other hobbies that took just your hands, baking, sewing, painting. But none of it made your soul feel like it had a real purpose. You needed to compete — you needed to move, your feet needed to glide quickly but delicately all at once. You needed that power and center of stage. You wanted all eyes on you while you made your body flex with determination and a fire light in your eyes.

And that’s when you started searching for tennis coaches.

You figured with your years worth of forming around good discipline and structure in ballet, tennis was a close second to the kind of agility you needed as an athlete of some sort, you knew you were no pro. Nor maybe ever going to be. But you had to do this, it was now tennis or nothing — and you were too young and too ambitious to give up just yet.

So you found them. Her first. Tashi Donaldson.

You knew of her, being in this Industry especially with being around so many wealthier kinds of sports enthusiasts, her name was gonna come around sometimes — and her husband of course plenty, Art Donaldson.

With some friends of friends, and many emails and more emails you were able to officially meet them after a couple days of searching and applying for tennis coaching nonstop. And when that day finally came, If it weren’t for their outshining talent at what they do for the tennis world, you would of figured they were models or at least assumed they should be.

They were both beautiful in an otherworldly sense — jaws that to you could cut like knives and bodies of literal gods.

You were shorter, and more petite as most ballerinas were, so when Tashi towered over you your first meet, all the confidence and sophistication you had previously practiced for this exact moment before hand, dissolved almost immediately — you were so intimidated by the powerful essence that poured off of her, the way her short waves flowed when she turned and her shirt dresses were left unbuttoned at just the perfect degree. Not too much on display, but just the right amount of cleavage and skin showing to leave her inferior curious for more, yearning for that bit of softness to Tashi that was merely her skin.

Speaking of softness, Art on the other hand had total power to his presence, with his name in grand letters everywhere. A full Olympic gold medalist tennis superstar. You’d think it all would go to his head, but that day you first shook hands with the mesmerizing man, you felt only warmth as he took your delicate into his bigger yet soft hands. You were left to find nothing but gentle kindness behind his eyes — you even noticed a bit of brown in his perfect blue irises.

And from that moment you had already known you’d become completely and utterly obsessed with him.

Yet that was six months ago now. Quickly you moved from your once apartment in New York City that you referred to as your ‘struggling ballerina habitat’ to the Donaldson estate — it was best you’d be as hands on with your tennis as possible, according to Tashi. But nothing could of prepared you for as hands on as it would get.

It had been two weeks into your training that the couple had come to you with a proposal. Art and Tashi would make a deal, that you’d be their play thing. But mainly for Art. His wife stated it would help up his game if he had something young, girlish and sweet to distract him in the meanwhile when he got too caught up in 40 loves, and wanting to do justice to Tashi’s failed tennis career. Sometimes it got all too much, and by that, most of the time. He needed you.

And how did you need him.

Within the first month you and Art had gotten feverishly close. With all the admiring you did of him and how he came to have the sports world in the palm of his hand, his rise to fame and all the while having a wife and daughter. Your smiles and soft blushes when he caressed your cheek — how you poked fun at him for not understanding your pop culture references or slang. It all gave him a nolstagia for his youth that made his heart pump a little faster and his racket hit a little harder on the court.

He was so so beyond sweet with you, helping you with your back hands, his fingers drifting your frame from behind as he positioned your body to his liking, and his grins when your mini tennis skirts (that Tashi ordered you to wear) would rise against his clothed thigh to only reveal the bit of lace panties you had on underneath.

With all the overwhelming feelings you didn’t deny the pleasure of touching yourself at night to the thought of his short strawberry blonde waves between your fingers as his lips made out with your pussy for hours. His tongue making you let out unimaginable noises to then kiss the taste of yourself off his lips.

So you couldn’t have been more down when Tashi made you sign for your little agreement.

You didn’t care if you were nothing but a fuck to get Art’s name permanently on the forums of different Tennis courts across the country. You’d do anything for just a glimpse of him. It was all you had really. Anything for Tashi to say you did well.

Anything for them.

It all had been in return of a place for you to stay as well. With your background coming from being a young ballerina from a big city — you hardly got paid anything manageable in the slightest. So it was nothing for Tashi and Art to shower you in their riches — the best maids, cooks, dietary plans, luxury hotels with new designer sports attire waiting for your arrival on top of your own beautifully decorated room in their home and a promised bright career ahead of you.

You’d just never bother to complain for also getting to receive the kind of affection and intimacy from the two who just needed a little bit of something. You, to make them feel alive again.

Now, you were settled into your silk pajama set that was personally picked out for you by Tashi, in a dusty pink rose color — the color she kept her nails because she mentioned it drove Art crazy. Giggles and soft laughter could be heard from the grand living room as you sat across from Art before bed. Watching his grin behind folded knuckles to his face, you bit your lip softly. “I haven’t been able to do it again since.”

“You can. And you will, you just need a little motivation.” you tittered softly with a smile. Taking in the sight of the man sitting so close yet too far from you.

You two had been watching highlights of some of Arts best matches from over the years.

You loved this. Sitting and listening to him talk about his career for however long he wanted, asking questions about how it felt to be so good at a craft — it made him feel assured telling you, teaching you. His confidence raised by the easy flow of conversation you had to offer. Because that’s what you were for, keeping him in that space of authority to at least something in his life and an escape from the tough business world that had broken down a man like him too many times before. So if you were keeping him up, Tashi was keeping you in.

Motivation

You could practically hear Art murmur the word to himself in his head and he looked at you with a sly grin on his face to which you only blushed and inched closer to his presence just a few pillows away from you.

“Yeah ? You gonna serve just like I showed you on the court tomorrow, ballerina ?”

Your lips immediately perked into a silly wide smile and you giggled like a school girl at the former accusation that was now Arts little nickname for you. Your chin resting in the crease of your elbow shyly as you nodded.

“It’ll be perfect. I promise.”

Art leaned in to leave a soft and delicately placed kiss to your neck. You shivered at the sweet somberness between the two of you, eyes almost fluttering closed as time stopped for a moment — but it was all cut short when Tashi came in from tucking Lily to bed. A demeanor on her face and body language like something had been not so lovely with her at that moment.

In her pajama slip, she had grabbed the remote from the table in front of the two of you and turned the tv off.

“Say goodnight.” She spoke with a soft assertiveness and Art had stood, he left a quick kiss to your cheek that didn’t leave you satisfied but wanting to whine his name to stay. Just for a little longer. But instead you let out a quite “night” as he made his way to Tashi.

Their lips pressed in a deep and slower smooch, you watched as some saliva collected in your mouth and you swallowed almost a little too loudly.

The way Art had softened into her made your stomach churn with want. Tashi had a gentle hand to his cheek as he pecked her one last time before disappearing through the hallway and you stood as well. Tashi’s eyes were locked on yours, and something gave you the notion that you weren’t allowed to leave just yet.

It had gone quite for a second as she focused on you, and you wanted to start picking your nails right there.

“I don’t like to end the night unsure, so do you want to tell me why you were slacking off on the court today ?”

Her words were crisp and landed on you like a paper cut you hadn’t seen coming. Your throat already tightening. You knew the chances of this night ending with her giving you that same kind of kiss she gave Art, was now looking too slim. And you feared for everything.

“I-I just haven’t been feeling too good on my feet lately,” your words already weakening under the woman’s gaze. “I’ve been trying to keep my lounges quick, steady, but the arch is hard to get rid of after-“

“Look. And listen to me.” Your eyes shot up from your feet as Tashi cut you and she began, “You’re not dancing in a recital and you’re not a fucking ballerina.”

She scorned you cold and straight forward. You immediately felt merely pushed back by force at her words.

“I don’t care if you’ll need to spend extra time with your physical therapist, I want you on your feet completely and ready to go tomorrow. This is tennis. That’s your life now, so start playing it because I don’t care for wasting my time, Understood ?”

Tashi knew how the ballerina facade went — the presenting as sweet, innocent, as fragile as a tea cup to the world, yet being built up to be an absolute machine. Being able to withstand even the harshest of hits to the ground or the lashing out of choreographers and instructors till gods end. It’s why she was never soft with you when it came to tennis, just like she wasn’t with Art.

You had nodded rather quickly and you were not going to let the readied tears resting on your ducts fall. You were gonna take the taunt like a big girl and get it together — because the truth is, you had been distracted during practice today.

But not by your poor aching feet, but by the way Art watched your perfectly toned legs as you leaped and glided across that court like some well, ballerina.

How when just the sight of your hair braided in two knots with ribbons on the end just became all too much for him to bare. He pulled you aside, the chill down your spine was maddening as he whispered in your ear the kinds of things you did to him. The way you made him feel. The things you made him want to do to with your little body.

His tender and wondrous fingers had ended up clean beneath your skirt without hesitation. Brushing against the lining of your panties and you were up against Gatorade bottles and protein mix before you could form a real thought. He leaned into you, standing tall there above you. Having to raise to the tips of your toes for him to tuck his fingers were you needed him most. You could see the rare excitement of dominance take over a darker tone in his eyes as his fingers sold into your sweet aching cunt, too tight for more than a finger.

The pulse of your heat and the beat of your heart racing at an embarrassing rate. His strawberry blonde locks brushed your desperate expression with eas that you’d fall apart in his arms at any moment knowing how fragile a young thing like you had been when it was just the two of you and your defenses were at their weakest. “Mmh, Art.” You breathed out in a whine, grabbing his muscular arm rather quickly as you nearly lost balance.

“Say it. Tell me you weren’t thinking about anything other than my hand up your skirt on that court.” He slowed into your ear and you whimpered softly as another finger, long and coated with your wetness entered you at once. “I see right through you. The thoughts that wind up in that innocent little head. So desperate. So willing to give up your cunt to me…. Or Tashi.”

Playing shy and dumb up front, though he had been right.

You would bend over and take the moment they said — You had to fight back strangled moans as you felt yourself being stretched by just his two fingers. It was known to both him and Tashi that you were untouched. With strict ballet schedules, school, and endless nights staying up till two am doing chassé after chassé till your toes were sore, you hardly ever had the time for pleasure. It had been anything if kept hidden and burried deep for a ballerina of your training to be caught up exploring her sexual desires — so as of current Art still hadn’t taken you there fully. But warming you up easily with his glorious mouth and apposing fingers inside of you would start you off heavenly.

“Need it… n-need you.” you huffed as Arts hand slipped under your sports bra to squeeze your breast, quick to rub your sensitive bud under his touch as his lips passed yours. His fingers working at a rough pace at this point that you felt your stomach tighten and he reached a spot you didn’t even know had existed. A high pitched groan had left your lips and he locked with yours to keep you fairly quiet. Then just as you would feel that gracious rush of relief soon to be yours, hitting you like a flow off a mountain — that sly smile of mischief had grown on Arts lips, before pulling his hand out from your skirt, and pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“Alright.. good to know.” Is all he uttered before walking away. Walking back out on that court and leaving you there, practically soaked and needing more.

Fuck

You’ve never found yourself so sexually frustrated that it was a different kind of rush you weren’t exactly prepared for. You knew Tashi was the one who loved a good game, and Art came off so easy going to the get up, not needing much for the win — till it was time to touch you or Tashi. Then it had just been all game. All teasing. All begging for more. He craved it, lived for it.

“I asked if you understood.” Tashi’s voice had you coming back to your senses and into the present. Standing in front of the woman already bored of the entire conversation.

You did know that her taking you in at all even with your background being in a completely different kind of wave from her world, was a huge risk to her career and her name. You really were almost too fucking lucky enough to be standing in the home of star athletes like she and Art. To be more intertwined with them than anyone out there. Skin to skin and an intimacy that was almost spiritual.

So with that knowledge, you truly didn’t see it being beneath Tashi to send you back right where you came from. To which that made a burn in your chest.

You couldn’t lose what you had worked so hard for, you couldn’t lose her attention and so much care even if seemed distant. You couldn’t lose Art, not when you were this close to being finally one with him this time. They believed in you enough, and they’d know when you were ready. It’s not like you had any direction before you were chosen by them anyways.

Tashi was completely right, you were no longer just some ballerina trying to make it. You were gonna be theirs to keep — they were gonna love you, and everything you did, every step and hit on that court till it hurt. You were gonna make them proud. You were going to play some good fucking tennis.

You had looked up at Tashi, doe eyed yet tired with a nod, “I understand. Completely.”

A/N: this is the first time I haven’t done full on p in v smut since I wanted to keep it short and sweet bc I plan on turning this fic into a series hopefully :) I rly loved this idea and thought it was a unique spin on the challengers uv — also want to bring in some Patrick action asp so lmk what you think or where it can go from here !! I love feedback it’s sooo appreciated <3 xoxo

[therdjspectrum]

He wore black to officially bid goodbye to his days as an Oscar-free actor because from this moment on, all films starring the Bobfather will bill him as an Academy Award Winner. There is nothing more attractive than being on a stage to accept the most prestigious award in your industry while your loving wife looks beautiful as ever supporting you all the way through your journey. Just like RDJ, we’d like to thank his stylist Erica for giving us the best looks yet this awards season. || March 10, 2024

Robert Downey Jr. wins the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor for his role as Lewis Strauss in Oppenheimer

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Merle Oberon (Wuthering Heights, The Scarlet Pimpernel)—She was mixed race (born in India and her mother was Sri Lankan) and still managed to make it in the British and American film industries (by passing) despite a rough start in life and industry racism. She was the first Asian person to be nominated for any Academy Award (best actress in 1935)! She also survived a car accident in 1937 and kept on acting until 1973, despite potentially career-ending facial scars. Also, she met her third husband while they were filming a movie together in 1973 (her last movie and she still looks great!). They fell in love and got married in 1975 when she was 62 and he was 36. She died 4 years later in 1979. Iconic.

Jean Seberg (Breathless, Saint Joan)— Some of us watched À bout de souffle as a lil French undergrad and had the trajectory of our lives changed by Jean Seberg. She IS French new wave!! She is the moment!! She sadly had to work with a lot of shitty directors in her career but even so, she has this magnetic energy whenever she’s on screen. In her personal life, she was also very supportive of civil rights causes, and was even targeted/harassed by the FBI for financially supporting the Black Panther Party.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Merle Oberon:

Beautiful. Talented. Biracial. Also please refer to the following promo from the aforementioned A Night To Remember, in which she plays the writer George Sand:

Her performances always give off this perfect blend of of being composed, refined, and aloof while still being deeply passionate and I eat it up every time.

Linked gifset

A rare example of a WOC working in lead roles in this era (mostly because she worked very hard to pass as white and had to hide her south asian heritage sadly). She has this very regal vibe but also a simmering intensity—even holding her own as Cathy opposite Laurence Olivier as Heathcliff.

I need all the gothic fans to STAND UP for our cathy!!

She has such a unique face when it comes to old hollywood actresses - a lot of them start to melt together in my brain - but Merle has always stood out to me<3

Jean Seberg:

anyone who plays Joan of Arc is kind of hot by default tbh

she's gorgeous, she's cool, she has the original blond pixie cut

She donated a lot of her money to civil rights organizations such as the NAACP and the black panther party as well as Native American school groups, as a result of this the fbi ran a smear campaign against her and a surveillance campaign which is thought to have led to her suicide tragically.

idk if this is propaganda but the COINTELPRO and the FBI are widely blamed for her death. If the FBI was after her for supporting the Black Panther Party you know she was good

[superdillin]

That Time I was on Adventuring Academy

Ok it's a clickbaity title but I've been thinking a lot about where I was in this moment, and who I am now, and what an ENORMOUS difference there is, a verifiably ocean between moments.

We can get the obvious differences out of the way like:

my name

my gender

my camera situation

all of which have improved drastically I must say.

When I was asked to do this I had published my first game supplement ever, Neverland: The Impossible Island. And I LOVE it still. For what it is, it was a killer first project. A fully playable D&D setting for JM Barrie's Peter Pan setting, Neverland. Concept and execution, I did a pretty decent job.

Gang, I was SHITTING myself during this entire interview. And I don't really even mean just because Brennan was someone influential to me, someone I didn't know at all at this point, but I was new to interviews and being on a public platform too. I was even still new as a performer, which I would confidently say is my strong suit now. I was being held together by adrenaline. Now, it's kind of hard for me to watch myself stumble through that. I've come like...an exceptionally long way since then.

And I have more to say now than I did then. Brennan introduces me so kindly as a game designer but truthfully I wasn't yet! I had written a module for D&D, and that's all. Fine, and fun, and I did a good job - but I've learned so much and experienced so much and I have so much knowledge and love and feral, unabashed passion for games now that I wish I could tell this past version of me about. I get to share that now, every single week, on One Shot - introducing people to new games and beautiful artists.

What I care about in this industry has also grown and shifted. Back then I was still fighting my way through the horde of misogynists to create space as a seemingly feminine person in the hobby by getting my mits all over their favorite franchise (D&D).

Now, I want us free from corporate fast food games, I want people to see the magnificent iceberg of art and exploration and humanity that games have that we can experience. I want designers who are paid to create their own art, not serving a corporation's image for pennies. I want to radicalize this hobby against the colonialism and transphobia and imperialism that snuck into all it's roots.

Anyway I'm SO proud of who I've become and where this moment has led me and for how far away it seems. I've lived and I have grown and I've become someone I'm even more proud of.

((oh and one final aside - this was one of the most professional experiences I ever had, from not just Brennan but everyone who set things up behind the scenes. That also taught me a lot about what was acceptable and what was not, going into future, often less good, interviews. ))

[sofs16]

let you break my heart again — 4

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♫ i miss you i’m sorry - gracie abrams

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, lorenzotl, pierregasly, and 21,833 others

charles_leclerc Really happy to be part of the Ferrari Drivers Academy and be development driver for Scuderia Ferrari :) For you, (your initial).

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march 1, 2016

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, and 12,392 others charles_leclerc 🏆🏆YESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!! GP3 CHAMPION !!!! A huge thanks to all ARTGP !!!!! WE DID IT !!! ❤️❤️ This one is for you Julio

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november 26, 2016

yn.yln.16 has gone public!

yn.yln.16

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yn.yln.16 holy moly so proud of you big sister 🥹

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kylie_yln 🥹❤️

january 5, 2017

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc Dreams come true 💫

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january 15, 2017

yn.yln.16

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yn.yln.16 REAL VOGUE GIRL!!!

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kylie_yln best vogue intern 🤩

february 8, 2017

yn.yln.16

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yn.yln.16 made a best friend at work ❤️‍🩹

p.s new article is up in my blog 🫧

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bellahadid youre something special 🦋

user92 what do you write about? :)

⤷ yn.yln.16 sports and fashion 😚🤍

february 20, 2017

yn.yln.16

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yn.yln.16 tonight’s football game article is up!!! view all 158 comments

march 4, 2017

charles_leclerc

liked by zhouguanyu24, and 18,295 others

charles_leclerc Prema today ! Working to get back on the top step as soon as possible 🙂🏆

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april 26, 2017

yn.yln.16 posted a story!

caption: “me and the boys when we aren’t writing a 10 page essay ”

viewed by pascale_leclerc, bawsixteen, and 521,102 others

replies:

kylie_yln anyone cute? 😚

⤷ yn.yln.16 looollll no 😖

pascale_leclerc Stay safe, chérie ❤️

⤷ yn.yln.16 ouiii maman!!! see you soon:)

gigihadid

monaco gp

liked by charles_leclerc, and 8,368,560 others

gigihadid Go HAM lewishamilton!

view all 132,395 comments

Maman 💇‍♀️

Charles, before you find out from anyone else, I am having lunch with Yn today.

Charles🤦‍♂️

What? Where?

How long will she be there?

Is she with you now? Maman?

yln.updated

liked by yn.yln.16, and 7,292 others

yln.updated yn out having lunch with her childhood neighbors! via. chefsmonaco: “Met yn.yln.16 this afternoon! Kindest soul who had lunch at our restaurant!” view all 1,684 others

yn.yln.16 chefsmonaco Loved the food, will surely come back! 🤍🥹

may 28, 2017

kylie_yln just posted a story!

caption: “little sis & me work time 🤪 yn.yln.16”

viewed by charles_leclerc, and 32,910,842 others

yn.yln.16

liked by kylie_yln, bellahadid, bawsixteen and 1,017,605 others

yn.yln.16 so so thankful to have written my first vogue article about my beautiful sister !!!! kylie.yln 🥹🤍

view all 232,923 comments

user82 notice how her first article is ab her sister.. talentless nepo babbyyy lol

⤷ yn.yln.16 yeah but hey, atleast im writing in vogue and not crying abt it in someone’s post 🤷🏻‍♀️

⤷ user1 GAGGEDDDD LOLL I LOVE HER ALR

lorenzotl So proud of both of you! ⤷ yn.yln.16 ❤️

may 11, 2017

charles_leclerc

liked by kylie_yln, pierregasly, and 21,292 others

charles_leclerc POLEEE POSITIONNN 🏎️ 2 poles out of 2 Qualifyings. Thanks again prema_team for the great car. But tomorrow is the day that counts ! 👊🏻

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kkkwupdates what is kylie doin in his likes 😭

⤷ user27 theyre friends

may 12, 2017

BBC NEWS • SHORT STORIES

MEET YN YLN May 29, 2017

Yn Yln has been making her mark in the industry.

From detailed writing on fashion pieces to analyzing the newest models of F1 cars, Yn Yln is racing through the internet.

Yln told the BBC it was her bursting of emotions that first got her to write.

Her love of fashion was what started her journey. She put up her first blog up in 2010 titled “Layering”. Yln showcased several ways to style for the winter which skyrocketed her blog.

She then wrote about the racing sport. Yln mentioned a friend of hers raced and that is where her writing started to flourish.

“He just got me really interested in the sport that I couldn’t go a week without writing whether Hamilton got a win or modifications had been made to the sport.”

The writer got her first issue in Vogue out this May 11th. The issue was about her sister, Kylie Yln, and her entrepreneurship.

But while she has achieved much beyond her years, Yln has much more ahead of her. She continues to help the writing industry advance and flourish.

MORE

F1 2018: Charles Leclerc confirmed at Sauber

Kylie Yln launches new collection

yn.yln.16

liked by bellahadid, lewishamilton, voguemagazine, kylie.yln, pascale_leclerc, lorenzotl, bawsixteen, and 3,594,192 others

yn.yln.16 you're looking at the new f1 correspondent and presenter 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 tears 😭😭😭😭😭 screaming

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lewishamilton Welcome to the club!🖤

⤷ yn.yln.16 Thank you so much🥹🥹🏎️

kylie.yln Proudest of you

[liked by yn.yln.16]

lorenzotl ❤️❤️❤️

pascale_leclerc 😍❤️

user1 what will you do? ⤷ yn.yln.16 writer some articles and present with sky tv 🍓

november 28, 2017

charles_leclerc

liked by kylie_yln, and 1,812,292 others

charles_leclerc I remember watching Formula 1 being younger and dreaming of one day being part of it. I can't believe this day has arrived and that I will be racing with Alfa Romeo Sauber F1 Team for the 2018 Formula 1 World Championship. I am hugely thankful to all the people who have been involved in my path to Formula 1.

A special thought to my father that did absolutly everthing for me to get there and to Jules that also helped me massively, I wish you two were here to see that but l'm sure you will follow me from up there.

A special thank you to the Ferrari Drivers Academy/Scuderia Ferrari, my sponsors/partners, Nicolas Todt/All Road Management, my family, all the people close to me during all these years & obviously Alfa Romeo Sauber F1 Team for giving me this opportunity.

Also, a special thank you to (your initial). This is also for you and I’m proud of you.🤍

Still a long way to go to my second dream..! So back to work and see vou in Melbourne 🏎️

december 3, 2017

Charles Leclerc explains reasons behind #16 F1 number choice

december 13, 2017

Since he was young, Leclerc has been dreamt of his future in being an F1 driver, as well as his future number.

The 20 year old driver explains it has always been the number he was going to pick.

“There is too much emotional connection for me to not pick this number. I hold this number deep in my heart and the person who helped me achieve everything, is mainly the reason. I hope to do the number well and give it justice.”

He has yet to specify who he is talking about but fans would guess a close friend. READ MORE…

16spriv

liked by kyliexoxo, bells888 and 47 others

16spriv

view all 21 comments

bells888 the no caption is so real

⤷16spriv STOPPP ITS MY NUMBER. NOW I HAVE TO CHANGE MYUSERNAME. goodbye yn.yln.16.

kyliexoxo deeeep breaths sister

⤷ 16spriv 🧘‍♀️

yn.yln

liked by bellahadid, lorenzotl, and 4,217,282 others

yn.yln bffr. time to work

view all 1,282,955 comments

user2 why is she famous again?

⤷ yn.yln am i even famous

⤷user2 😂

⤷ user3 she’s a talented writer and her sister is $$$

ylnsbabe the 16 in her user is gone????

⤷ f1wags holymoly

february 13, 2018

MARCH 25, 2018

it was nerve shaking for both yn and charles to come into the paddock knowing the other would be there but they both walked in with confidence.

with charles in his rookie season, many interviewers were trying to get his input on it. he searched the faces for that one (y/h/c) but proceeded to answer questions while walking.

as he started to leave the group, he had the urge to turn around. and when he did, he was met with those (y/e/c) and nostalgia.

the interviewers started to disperse, getting in his line of vision for a moment before they were focues on her.

this was his second shot and he was not going to waste it.

TAGLIST @1655clean @uuzhanggggggg @cmleitora @annie115 @valntynebaby @mrosales16 @d3kstar @stopeatread @chimchimjiminie16 @viennakarma @peqch-pie @scaramou @daniellarogers

NOTE sorry it took so long to upload:( hope everyone has a good year!! this took me a while and a lot of things aren’t accurate, such as the job description, but its fictional!!

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 9 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica visits Beta Brewing and meets one of Bradley Bradshaw's former fraternity brothers. He's flirtatious, and she's surprised by it. But nothing surprises her as much as the way Jake can be so sweet and sexy at the same time. But she doesn't know he's only ever been like this for her.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, swearing, 18+

Length: 6600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Bradley Bradshaw helped Jessica climb up into the backseat of the idling vintage Ford Bronco with her notebook, a pen and her overnight bag. He somehow looked even more handsome in jeans and a tie dyed shirt with a backwards cap than he did in his uniform. "I can't thank you enough for doing this," she said as he released her hand and smiled. 

"It's nothing," he replied casually with a shrug of his broad shoulders before closing the door. But it was definitely something to Jessica. It had been a very long time since she had friends. She watched as he climbed back into the driver's seat and leaned over to accept a kiss from his wife. His handsome cheeks flushed a little bit as he cleared his throat and asked, "Ready to hit the road?"

"Yes," Jessica said as she buckled in for the half hour drive up to Beta Brewing. Advanced Calculus was turned around in the front seat, handing her a snack box filled with mixed berries and artisan cheeses. 

"Bradley packed these for us," she said with a grin as she held up a second one. Sure enough he was blushing a little more now.

"Thank you," Jessica gushed, biting into a ripe raspberry and thinking about what Jake might be cooking for dinner later tonight. She'd never eaten this well in her entire adult life.

"It's nothing," Bradley said again as he turned onto the highway. "So how much beer do you think you'll need for this fundraiser?"

"At least two kegs?" Jessica said as she ate some of the cheese that was practically melting on her tongue. "More than that will kill my thousand dollar budget."

"I think you're better off with three," Advanced Calculus said. "I know you don't have a final headcount yet, but with the way Bradley and Jake drink, you'll run out with just two."

Bradley laughed. "You really think Jake and I could drink an entire keg of beer ourselves?"

"The two of you drank the equivalent of a keg of champagne on New Year's Eve," his wife replied easily as she fed him a berry.

"Ah yes," he rasped, "the inception of Dr. Tits." Jessica laughed as Advanced Calculus smacked his shoulder. Bradley looked in the rearview mirror and asked, "You know about Dr. Tits?"

"Yes," Jessica replied, recalling the story of drunk Jake and the low cut dress. Of course Advanced Calculus had been a good sport about it. 

"And you still want to date Jake Seresin? He's a goddamn menace."

"He's actually much less annoying since he met Jessica," he wife remarked. 

"Shit. You're right," Bradley mumbled. "Okay, you actually have to date him. You're never allowed to break up with him either."

After that, Jessica got some inside scoop and funny stories about her boyfriend. Apparently he tried to sleep behind the bar at their Navy hangout on his birthday last year. And at Starbucks, he likes to give Hungman as his name just to see if the baristas will say it, but at least he leaves them a nice tip for their troubles. And neither Bradley nor his wife could ever remember Jake having a girlfriend since he graduated from the Naval Academy. 

"Here we are," Bradley said as he pulled into a parking lot right next to a beautiful cliffside beach. Beta Brewing was written in huge graffiti lettering on the side of an industrial building. Bradley wrapped his arm around his wife and headed toward a door off to the side with a sign that said Tap Room.

Jessica followed behind them and asked, "What was your friend's name again?" She was suddenly very nervous that she was going to sound like an idiot asking for a deal on this guy's designer beer.

"Dev Borah," Bradley said, pulling the door open for the two women to go first.

"He's nice," his wife promised. "You'll like him."

Jessica took a few steps into the bar area that smelled delicious and was decorated like a tasteful fraternity house. "We open at noon!" boomed a voice from the long bartop. "Sorry!"

Bradley chuckled and said, "That's bullshit. You can't turn away a Beta Gamma brother."

"Oh shit!" the other man with dark hair and a big, beaming smile said as he looked up and slammed his palm down on the countertop. "Bradshaw! I completely forgot you were coming up today."

Jessica watched as Dev popped up from behind the bar and gave Bradley some weird, elaborate handshake before they both started laughing. "It's good to see you man. Been a few months," Dev said, eyeing up Brashaw's wife. "And it's honestly rude of you to try to keep this one away from me." 

"Hi, Dev," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"I still can't believe the two of you got married. That's fucking wild," Dev replied before focusing his attention on Jessica. A crooked smile appeared on his lips, the kind that let her know he would have been quite a handful when he was in college. "And you're Jessica?" he asked, reaching out to shake hands with her. "Damn. I've gotta get down to San Diego more often." 

She laughed and shook his hand. Maybe she didn't have anything to be nervous about after all. This man seemed like a goof as he took the three of them on a tour of the brewery and back into the areas he assured her were top secret.

He also seemed to understand the entire process involved here. He answered all of their questions about brewing beer and the business end of things. "We're shipping as far as Pennsylvania now," he said when Jessica asked about distribution. "Making it hard for me to crunch all the numbers myself, but I'm really particular about who I let in on the details." When he stopped in front of an industrial looking door, he punched a code into the keypad and said, "Let's dip into my personal stash."

The room was his office, and it was massive with floor to ceiling windows and a view of the cliffs and the beach. Jessica watched him open a stainless steel refrigerator and select a few bottles and cans from his collection and line them up on his glossy desk. "This is incredible," she remarked, looking out the window while Bradshaw gazed longingly into his wife's eyes and said something about only drinking the good beers. "Your whole setup is incredible."

"Thanks," Dev said as he opened a bottle of beer called Greek Week and handed it to her. "Started the whole thing myself about seven years ago."

The beer was absolutely delicious, and Jessica wondered if she could buy a six pack or something to take to Jake's place. "I like this beer. Can I get it in a keg? For that event I believe Bradley mentioned to you?"

Dev smiled and said, "We don't keg this one. It's a limited release of 500 bottles."

She almost choked on it. "500 bottles and you're letting me have one? Are you insane?"

His laughter was contagious, because soon she was laughing too. "You can have one. His wife can too, if she wants. But Bradshaw gets one of the regular beers. That's what he gets for never helping me with my homework. That asshole graduated top of our fraternity."

"Yeah, I absolutely did," Bradley said, winking at his wife as Dev handed him a different beer. "Sugar made sure I spent plenty of time in the library. Studying." His wife looked a little bashful, but she accepted her own bottle of the limited release Greek Week beer and sipped it.

"If you want kegs," Dev said, "we can walk through the warehouse so you can see what's available. I have a few brews that were aged in barrels and a few others as well right now. You can try some samples in the tap room and take whichever kegs you want."

Jessica nodded and finished her beer. "Sounds great. I'll probably need three kegs, but I have a very limited budget, so two might have to work."

Dev just waved her off. "We'll talk about it down there." He led the way through a labyrinth of hallways and down an elevator to the warehouse. "Careful," he told Jessica with a wink as he held a door open for her. "Usually I don't let anyone in here with high heels, but I don't think I could tell you no to anything you wanted to do."

Jessica looked down at her jeans and heels and then back up at him. "I'll be extra careful."

"Let me know if you need to hold my hand," he said with that same grin before leading the way toward rows and rows of kegs where a handful of employees were working. "Point out the three you want unless you want to taste them first."

"I've tried all of them," Bradley told Jessica. "There's no such thing as a bad beer made at Beta. They are all good."

She didn't want to cause any extra work for anyone. She just wanted the event to be successful which meant staying under budget. "Can I just take three of your least expensive ones?"

"Is that really your deciding factor?" Dev asked, waving someone with a cart on wheels over. 

"Yeah," she replied with a wince. "I'm sure they're all great! The Greek Week was amazing! But I need this fundraiser to be as successful as possible, and the finances are tight."

Jessica wondered if she could come back up with Jake and his truck one day to pick them up, but Dev asked, "Can you fit three of them in your Bronco, Bradshaw?"

"Yep," Bradley replied, his arm draped casually around his wife's shoulders. 

"Okay then," Dev said to the man with the cart. "Load one keg of Gamma Rays, one of East Coast Girls, and one of Nerd Core into the fancy blue thing parked outside."

Jessica's math brain was swirling. "How much do I owe you?"

Dev shrugged. "They retail for three hundred apiece, but you can have them at cost."

"Well, how much is that?" She was starting to panic now. 

Dev was laughing again. "I'm not going to charge you a penny for the kegs. It's on me."

Bradley laughed, too. "That's just bad business, man. Didn't you study accounting?"

"Nah, I studied girls," Dev replied, smirking at Jessica as she blushed. "Come on, I'll send you home with some bottles."

Once they were in the tap room, Jessica insisted on paying for two six packs of beer while Bradley and his wife picked some out of the coolers as well. "I can't thank you enough," Jessica told Dev as he ran her credit card. "This whole thing is just really important to me getting tenure at my school, and... just, thank you."

"Don't mention it," he said as he handed the card back to her. "Bradshaw can make up for it in manual labor when I do my next brewery expansion."

Jessica looked to her left to where Bradley was setting down the beers he wanted to buy. "N-No," she stammered. "I wouldn't want anyone to have to do that!"

"I'm kidding," Dev promised as he took Bradley's credit card. 

"You could come to the fraternity event!" Jessica blurted out. "And I could definitely promote your brand, too."

Dev tossed the card back to Bradley and shooed him away with his hand. Jessica thought she heard Bradley laughing behind her as Dev leaned a little closer, his perfect smile back on his face. "Just to clarify, are you asking me on a date?"

Her jaw dropped open. Would it have been that easy for her to get a date with him? She was shocked. He owned a brewery worth millions of dollars. "Oh. No. I have a boyfriend."

Dev shook his head. "Not surprising in the least. Email me the details for your event. I'd love to come, even if it's just an excuse to see you smile again."

"Okay," she said softly, taking both six packs in her hands. "And thanks again."

Jessica stumbled outside into the sunlight where Bradley and his wife were practically making out next to the Bronco which was filled with three kegs of beer. Even when she approached them, he didn't bother to remove his hands from her butt, but Jessica supposed that was a good sign that they considered her a friend as well. 

"So? You ditching Jake for Dev?" Bradley asked, laughter in his voice. 

"No!" Jessica replied. "But I can't believe he gave me the kegs for free. Really, it's thanks to you."

"Don't worry about it," Bradley replied, opening the door for her before walking around to the passenger side for his wife. "Dev's loaded, and he's nice anyway. So if you ever do decide to ditch Jake, you have options."

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

The Longhorns game was on, dinner was ready to go into the oven, and Jessica just texted that she was on her way. Jake was lounging on the couch, ready to spend the rest of the day and all night convincing her that she should show him her pretty green underwear and let him take it off of her. 

He bought a new box of condoms, just in case. He felt a little weird digging into an open box for her, so he just tossed the last few he had, deciding to start fresh. In a lot of ways, that's what he was doing. Starting fresh. 

Everything around him was spotlessly clean. There were new sheets on his bed. He had Sam Adams seasonal beers in the fridge. He had his couch ready for snuggling. He just needed her. 

When she knocked, he rocketed off the couch, fixing his hair on the way to his door. "Hi-" The words died in his throat and he grimaced as he was met with Bradley Bradshaw, but at least he was holding some beers. "Rooster."

"Hangman," came the response with a smirk. When he pushed his way inside, Jake saw his wife was behind him, and then he finally saw Jessica. 

"Jake," she sighed breathlessly, and he collected her up in his arms. He kicked the door closed as she kissed him, but he was wondering why there were four people in his condo instead of two when all he really wanted to do was take Jessica to bed.

"Hey, Baby. How was the brewery?"

Bradshaw was laughing as he made his way to the kitchen. "You can kiss your girlfriend goodbye. Dev Borah wants her. He just texted me asking how serious Jessica is with her boyfriend."

"Who?" Jake asked, wrapping his arms a little tighter around Jessica.

"The beer guy. His fraternity brother," she replied, kissing him softly. "Bradley's just kidding."

"He's not kidding," Bradshaw's wife said as she picked up one of the journals on the coffee table. "Dev really texted him."

Jake didn't think he actually had any cause for concern as Jessica wiggled her bag down her arm and let it drop to the floor so she could snuggle against his chest. "Why don't you text him back and tell him to fuck off," Jake told Bradley who was now rooting around in his refrigerator. 

"What are you making for dinner?" he mumbled. "Bruschetta chicken? Sugar loves it when I make that for her."

"Bruschetta chicken?" his wife replied, also hustling into Jake's kitchen.

"Fuck," Jake whispered, "they're never gonna leave."

"Sorry," Jessica mumbled. "Bradley insisted on carrying the beers I bought up here for me. I got you a bottle of this one called Greek Week which Dev told me is a limited release, and I think you'll really like it."

Jake kissed her lips softly and asked, "What's it going to take for you to forget this Dev guy all together?"

She blushed for him and glanced toward the kitchen before she said, "I didn't wear my pretty green things for Dev. I wore them for you."

A smirk instantly appeared on Jake's face. Images of Jessica's bare pussy rubbing on his khaki uniform pants while she whined for him filled his mind. He would just have to make sure he was very good for her every single time, because there was no way he was giving her up now. 

"Can we stay for dinner?" Rooster asked from the kitchen. "I want to compare recipes." 

"No," Jake drawled as Jessica's lips found his neck in the briefest of kisses. "I'm going to say this as nicely as I can: Get the fuck out. Please."

"So rude," Bradshaw's wife replied, but she was smiling. Jake watched her lean in and whisper something to her husband. 

His eyes went wide immediately, and he was nodding as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. "Yeah, I can do that for you, Sugar," he said softly, but Jake still heard him. Then Bradshaw cleared his throat and said, "See you on Monday, Hangman. Bye, Jess." He dragged his wife behind him as he made a beeline for the door, and she waved as she laughed.

And then they were gone, and Jake was just thankful it wasn't awkward at all when Jessica whispered, "I was afraid they weren't going to leave," as she ran her fingers up underneath his Longhorns shirt. 

"He would have stayed, but she's a good wingwoman," Jake replied, kissing her temple, his lips meeting the cool plastic of her glasses. "And I just want to spend time alone with you. You want to sit on the couch? Have a few beers?"

The Longhorns game was on mute, but he'd lost interest in it anyway as Jessica carefully stepped out of her high heels. Now she really had to look up at him as she started to unbutton her blouse, and Jake's hands were on her denim covered hips immediately as he felt his cock twitch in delight. He was shocked and about to suggest taking things to his bedroom when he lost the ability to speak. She shrugged out of her blouse and draped it on the arm of the couch leaving her in a sheer, white camisole and her green bra. 

"Sure," Jessica replied casually like she wasn't nearly stripped bare from the waist up for him. "I'd love a beer. Want to try that one called Greek Week?"

"Yep," he grunted in response as she pushed against his abs until he was sitting on the couch. 

"We can share it," she whispered as she walked into his kitchen like she belonged there. Even from behind, Jake was entranced. The white fabric looked soft and stretchy, and he wanted to know for sure. He also wanted to see her without that silly little shirt on at all. "Fuck."

He watched her open the bottle and take a sip before heading back his way. When he patted the spot on the couch next to him, she settled in with her legs folded up and her knee resting on his thigh. He was plainly hard in his briefs and gray sweatpants as she leaned on him. He had a great view of her tits down her nearly nonexistent top as they were pressed together now. 

"You want some?" she asked, looking up at him and adjusting her glasses. He wanted everything. It was actually fucking crazy how he reacted to this woman.

He leaned in and kissed her. "I want some of you, but I guess I'll try the beer as well." Then he took a sip, and it was good, which kind of pissed him off. He didn't know anything about this Dev guy, other than the fact that he was in Bradshaw's fraternity back in college in Virginia, but now he was imagining him flirting with his girlfriend. 

When he handed the bottle back to her, she took another sip before setting it on the coffee table. Then she settled back against him, her hand grazing his cock through his sweatpants. She gasped. "Are you comfortable?" she whispered as he ran his fingers up her bare arm. 

"Not really," he murmured, watching her head tip to the side in pleasure. He ran his lips along her soft shoulder. "You're teasing me right now."

"I'm not doing anything," she moaned. "Jake."

But he was too busy sucking gently on her pulse point below her ear while he worked his fingers underneath that pretty, green bra strap. She was half sitting on his lap now, reaching back with her hand to brush his cock again, this time intentionally. 

Her breath was a soft whimper as she asked, "Don't you want to watch the Longhorns?"

Jake pulled his lips away from her and paused with his right hand on her hip and his left fingers dipping down inside the front of her bra. He watched her trace the head of his cock through too many layers of fabric with the tips of her pink painted nails. 

"If you want to play games here, Jessica, I'm afraid you might lose, Baby."

That one sentence was enough to have her spinning around to face him,  straddling him and sitting back on his thighs. "You didn't answer my question," she whispered, looking at him like she meant business in her decadent little outfit. She ran her hands down the front of her body to the button of her jeans and asked, "Do you want to watch the Longhorns?"

His fingers flexed on her hips, and he leaned back against the couch, eyes fixed on her as she unzipped her jeans and let him see some of that green lace thong. She wiggled herself against him and reached for his left hand, guiding it inside her jeans. And if he thought her shoulder was soft, then the skin above her panties was heavenly. He was aching as he stroked her, watching her chew on her lip as her glasses slid down her nose a bit. 

Then she reached for the bottom of that white camisole and pulled his clean off over her head, tossing it toward her previously discarded blouse. Jake groaned at the sight of her pink nipples pressing against green lace. And there was a tiny green, satin bow right there between her tits on her bra. He couldn't decide if he wanted to chew it off or rub his nose on it, so instead he leaned forward and kissed it before pressing his lips to the swell of her right breast. 

She smelled like expensive perfume and she tasted like a dream. Her fingers were soft in his hair as he continued to toy with her panties, but he brought his other hand up along her ribcage to join his lips on her tits.

"Jake," she said firmly in what he could only imagine was her stern teaching voice. "Do you want to watch the Longhorns?"

He pulled his mouth away from her tits and reached up along her back to her bra clasp. He suddenly pulled her closer, making her gasp as she sat with her jeans pressed to his hardness and her hands on his shoulders. Then he looked her in the eye. "Jessica, the only thing I want to watch right now is your pretty pussy taking my cock."

Jake smirked as her mouth fell open, and she stared at him. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths as he licked her lips and undid one of the hooks of her bra. "And maybe the way your gorgeous tits bounce for me," he added with a smirk.

A moaning, whimpering mess. That's what was sitting on his lap right now. He watched her reach back and guide his hands so he was undoing the second hook closure on her bra. Then she pulled her hair to the side and let him guide the green lace away from her body. The way the straps slid down her arms was making him throb, and he kissed the soft skin in their wake. Then her breasts were free of the fabric, and she was looking at him expectantly as she chewed on her lip and stifled a moan.

"Baby," he gasped, throat suddenly dry as he let her bra fall to her lap and took her in his hands. She rolled her hips forward as he moulded his hands to the perfection of her tits and buried his face between them. Two flawless handfuls. And they were real. He could hardly remember the last time he'd been treated to something this exciting. 

He had his mouth everywhere on her, sucking one nipple and then the other between his lips. Licking long stripes from beneath each breast up to her collarbone and back down again. He squeezed and caressed and nuzzled until she started to shake, his name starting to sound desperate on her lips. "Jake," she moaned like a wounded animal, shoving his hands inside her open jeans and grinding. 

But he reminded himself that a horny quickie was not right for the first time. Second, third and fourth? Yeah, absolutely. But not right now. "Will you let me take you to bed?"

"Yes!" she practically shouted, fingers digging into his shoulders. He stood up, Jessica clinging to the front of him, and carried her to his bedroom with his hands on her ass. Her lips were on his neck, and he could hear the needy sounds she made as her nose pressed to his ear. 

There was soft afternoon sunlight filtering in through Jake's bedroom windows, and everything looked dreamy as he set Jessica down on the floor at the foot of his bed. A bashful smile ghosted across her lips as she reached for the bottom of his Longhorns shirt and guided it up his torso and over his head. "Oh," she gasped, and Jake nearly purred as she ran her fingers through his chest hair. "Ohh." Then her hands trailed down to his sweatpants, and it was over. 

"Jessica," he growled when she reached inside and yanked them down his hips. He was so hard in his black briefs, he had to beg her to be gentle as she pulled them down as well. Then she was stroking him with her small hands, giving him a few experimental pumps. 

He had to squeeze his eyes shut and take a deep breath when she whispered, "That's enough teasing, don't you think?"

"Get on the bed."

With a soft squeak, she did as she was told, scrambling onto her back so her tits shook invitingly. But he needed to focus here. He needed to be good. Great. Spectacular. This was his girl, not just some girl. His cock was bouncing as he watched her pull her jeans down over her soft hips and thighs, leaving her in just that sinful green thong.

He crawled on top of her, propping himself up on his elbows, and he let his cock rest on her thigh as he kissed her lips. "You're so fucking beautiful, Jessica."

Her fingers were back in his chest hair before she looped them around his neck. "So are you."

He hummed against her lips. "I bought condoms this morning. Give me a minute to get them?"

But she shook her head. "I don't want to use a condom with you."

The noise he made was actually perverted, and he thought his eyes were going to roll into the back of his head when she pressed her pussy up against him. "You want me to skip the condom?" he ground out, his hand cupping her breast. He stroked her nipple as she whined the word yes over and over again. 

"Please," she gasped. "I'm clean. I got tested last year. I haven't had sex in a year."

"Oh my god." She hadn't had sex in a year. How was that even fucking possible? Pretty face, perfect body, smart as hell, and she wasn't even getting fucked? "Jessica, are you on birth control?"

"Yes. Are you clean?" she asked, and Jake just kind of froze there. He had never skipped a condom before. Even at his drunkest. Even in the bathroom at the bar. Even in the bed of his truck on the Fourth of July. He had used a condom every single time he'd ever had sex since he was sixteen years old and lost his virginity. And right now he was afraid he was going to cum after two seconds inside her without one on. And if this perfect woman went a year without sex, she deserved to have him last an hour. 

"I'm clean," he confirmed, and she pulled him down for a kiss.

"Then what are you waiting for?" she whispered before swiping her tongue into his mouth. 

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

Jessica was so turned on, it felt like her skin was on fire. She was making this pitiful noise at the back of her throat, and she couldn't seem to stop no matter what she did. She was already thrusting up, rubbing herself on Jake like a needy cat, back arching off his bed. If he didn't fuck her soon, she was afraid she might start crying. 

But right now he was just kissing her forehead and cheeks and looking at her while his golden chest hair teased her breasts. His cock was heavy on her thigh, and she needed it inside her. It was an absolute necessity right now. The fact that she could go from completely normal all morning at Beta Brewing to a filthy mess for him right now was startling. 

"Baby," he whispered, shaking his head. "Jessica."

Then he let one hand trail down her body and slip inside her underwear, and as soon as he touched her clit she sighed in relief. His fingers were sure and steady as she stroked the back of his neck with both hands, scraping along through his hair with her nails. 

"Jake," she gasped, and he kissed her lips as he fucked her with one long finger. But even when he added a second, she already knew it wouldn't compare to his thick cock. She was aching for it. He was going to make her beg for it, she needed it that badly. It had been a year since she had sex with Brian in his office, and he was nowhere near as big as Jake. This anticipation was almost too much now.

The swirl of his thumb on her clit was delicious though, and Jake trailed his kisses down her neck to her chest. He pulled her nipple gently between his teeth before sucking. Her back arched off the bed again as she rode his fingers. "Oh god," she moaned. "Jake." 

Okay, okay. He seemed to know just what to do with his mouth and hands to make her wild. Just the right amount of pressure. Just the right speed on her clit, too. All she needed was for him to fuck her. 

"Please?" she asked softly. Then she reached for her glasses. Maybe that was the problem. They always seemed to be in the way for activities like this, so she took them off. 

That seemed to draw him out of his daze as he released her breast and gasped, "What are you doing, Baby?" His face was blurry to her now, but he still looked handsome.

She ran her foot along his bare leg up to his hip and brushed his cock. "I want you," she whispered, hips jerking as he continued to work her clit. "Thought maybe you'd want me to lose the glasses?"

"Back on," he instructed sternly, so she slid them back on her face. Then he kissed her lips again as he drew his soaking fingers out of her pussy and used them on her clit in place of his thumb.

When she ran her fingers along his face, he moaned into her mouth. "Jake, please," she whispered, breaking the kiss and shaking her head from side to side. "I need it."

He groaned and laughed softly, and she was searching his face. "I want to make you feel so good, but you do a number on me Reedy. I'm a little concerned I'm gonna come immediately."

"You are?" she whimpered. 

He nodded and kissed her softly. "Yeah." She watched him pull away from her to gently ease her thong away from her pussy and down her legs. He held the green fabric to his nose and grunted, keeping it in his right hand as he took his time to press kisses along her thigh before kissing her pussy. She bucked against his face, already clenching as he kissed her again and again. Then he brought his hand down to his cock and pumped a few times before lining himself up with her and pressing the tip inside.

Then his face was hovering over hers again as he planted his hands near her head. His kisses were a little desperate, but so was she. Then he started to move, and it was everything she needed. "Jessica," he hissed, his face contorting in pleasure as he filled her all the way, stretching her out. 

And if he was the one who was afraid of coming right away, he had nothing to worry about. She was whimpering, she felt so full. He was thick, and the stretch was so good, it was almost painful when he started to thrust. She laced her fingers through his silky hair, pulling him closer so he could feel her lips quivering.

"You're so big," she moaned, and he absolutely devoured her mouth just the way she wanted him to. Her fingers tightened in his hair as he rocked into her, and when he brought his fingers back to her clit, she was already fluttering. 

She slowed him down just a little bit with the roll of her hips, and then it was perfect. He actually felt perfect to her. Whispering her name against her neck and moving his fingers just right as he kept her full. When he gasped, "Baby," she clenched around him, and it brought on a tidal wave. 

"Oh," she moaned, digging her fingers into his neck as she rolled her hips and started to come. She was whining for him as he sucked on her collarbone, and she just kept getting louder. Her voice was strained to her own ears. There was a crescendo of her gasping his name, and then she was just panting softly and shivering beneath him, her hands limp by her sides on the bed as her pussy continued to clench.

Jake met her gaze, still fucking her as he combed his fingers back through her hair. Then he smiled, as she bit her lip and whimpered his name. "You feel good?" he asked. 

"So good," she whispered. Jake adjusted her glasses and kissed her before tucking his hands underneath her and lifting her up. He flipped them so he was on his back and she was straddling him, and she had to brace her hands on his chest. 

She combed her fingers through his chest hair again, and now she was the one leaning down to kiss him. She felt powerful now that she got her pleasure and felt sated. She was ready to give him what he wanted. "Do you feel good?" she asked, turning his question back around on him. 

Jake responded by propping himself up with one hand and wrapping his other arm around her waist. "Incredible."

As she leaned back a little bit, she kept her hands braced on his shoulders, and sure enough, his gaze drifted down to watch as she slowly slid herself up and down along his cock. God, he was thick, and she could tell she was really gripping him. "You wanted to watch me take your cock, didn't you?"

Sweat was breaking out on his forehead, and he swallowed hard. "Jesus Christ, you're gonna be a fucking handful." Then he thrust his hips up, ramming himself deeper, and she shrieked in delight at the stretch. 

"Do it again!"

So he did. And again after that. And again. His head was tipped back now as the tempo increased, and she pressed him flat on his back again as she rode him. He seemed so much more confident now too as he brought his hands and mouth up to her breasts. His white teeth looked so pretty as he ran them against her peaked nipples, and she fucked him a little faster. But his trimmed pubic hair was rubbing her clit at this angle, and the faster she went, she realized she was getting close. Again.

"Fucking gorgeous," Jake muttered, switching from her left nipple to her right and sucking. And then she bucked her hips, and he looked up at her as she parted her lips and tried to speak. But she just made another embarrassing noise, and her hair fell in front of her glasses as she sank all the way down around him.

But this time she took him with her, his fingers tangled up in her hair as he grunted, "Jessica." Pleasure rippled through her, not as intense as the first time, but it was still incredible, and she eased herself down to rest against his chest as his hips slowed as well.

Jake carefully ran his fingers through her hair until she could see his face again. "There you are," he whispered, coaxing her a little closer for a kiss. His cheeks were flushed, and he looked like he was as affected by everything as much as she was. His movements were languid and unhurried, and the smile on his face was dreamy and genuine. Had she ever been with a man who looked at her like this after he unloaded inside her? He wasn't even making any move to get up yet.

"I really like you," she blurted out, immediately embarrassed. 

"Yeah, well, I just made you come, so..." he said with a little shrug as he ran his thumb along her lips.

"It's not that," she said, letting him trace her lips before she continued. She looked down at his neck as she whispered, "You seem excited by me."

"I am," he confirmed as she started to sit up. "Where you going?"

She wiggled her hips and let his softening cock slide out of her. "Just going to get cleaned up."

Jake's left hand shot out to hold her in place as she straddled him. He was propped up on one elbow, staring at her pussy as she felt his cum dripping along her thighs. "Oh my god," he growled. When she looked down, she watched his cum drop onto his abs, and she could feel herself blushing. 

"You're looking at me like you've never enjoyed a creampie before."

He sat up so she was straddling his thighs and making an even bigger mess. "I haven't. I've always worn protection in the past."

She was shocked as she let her arms slide around his neck. "Always?"

Jake kissed her as her forehead came to rest against his. "Yeah," he whispered sheepishly. Maybe that's why he seemed to get a little nervous for a minute there. But Jessica was so incredibly turned on right now by this information, she was about to ask him if he could go again yet. But he was holding her so sweetly now, just cradling her against his bigger body and kissing her like there was nowhere he'd rather be. "Okay, Smart Girl. Let's clean up, and then I have something I want to show you."

"What is it?" she asked as he stood with her in his arms. 

He ran his nose along her jaw and kissed her. "Oh, you'll love it, Baby. It's a spec sheet on the new Super Hornet outfitting."

She gasped. "Jake. Really?" This had to be the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her.

He chuckled softly as he took her into his bathroom. "It's an archive copy, so a few things have been redacted, but I have it all memorized so you can work out the math as many times as you want."

"You're a dream," she whispered against his lips. 

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

Nice to see Dev again! It's been a while! Nervous Jake, I love you. He almost fumbled things for a minute there with his woman. Are we taking bets on round two later in the weekend? Think he can keep it together? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

@furiouspiespytaco

@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

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@abaker74

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@hufflepufftruffle

@cottagecori

[yurimother]

The 2023 Yuri Guide - Anime

Your ultimate guide to the best Yuri content with over 200 curated titles from every genre and medium.

Adachi and Shimamura

• School • Slice of Life • Romance • Friends to Lovers • Slow burn

Adachi and Shimamura's days of skipping school offer a new world to explore. But as these delinquents bond, unexpected emotions begin to blossom. Now if they could just admit how they feel…

Streaming on Crunchyroll (Sub/Dub)

BIRDIE WING -Golf Girls' Story-

• Sports • Comedy • Drama

Eve is an underground golfer who supports poor street orphans with the money she makes from illegal golfing matches. But her life is about to change forever when she meets a young golfer who's just arrived from Japan...

Streaming on Crunchyroll (Sub)

The Executioner and Her Way of Life

• Action • Fantasy • Isekai • Enemies to Lovers

When Menou, an Executioner of deadly interdimensional “Lost Ones,” encounters a Lost One named Akari who can cheat death, she sets out on a mission to kill the unkillable girl — but her newly stirring feelings might get in the way of her blade.

Streaming on HIDIVE (Sub/Dub)

Flip Flappers

• Fantasy • Action • Magical Girl • Love at First Sight

Cocona’s world is turned upside down with the appearance of Papika. They set off on an adventure in “Pure Illusion.” In the pursuit of the “Shards of Mimi,” obstacles arise, and the shards enable them to transform.

Streaming on HIDIVE (Sub/Dub)

If My Favorite Pop Idol Made it to the Budokan, I Would Die

• Comedy • Music • Multiple Couples • Love at First Sight

Two years ago, super-fan Eripiyo was hypnotized by Maina Ichii and her pop group ChamJam. Now Eri dreams of seeing her favorite group make it big, to the Budokan arena! Her passionate desire consumes money and time—but no cost is too high. This is fandom!

Streaming on Crunchyroll (Sub/Dub)

Inugami-san to Nekoyama-san

• School • Slice of Life • Comedy • Multiple Couples

A mutual friend introduces Yachiyo Inugami, a dog-like girl who loves cats, and Suzu Nekoyama, a cat-like girl who loves dogs. The girls find themselves drawn in by their opposite traits and the most outlandish relationship starts to take form in this wild comedy that will have you barking (and meowing?) with laughter.

Streaming on Crunchyroll (Sub)

The Magical Revolution of the Reincarnated Princess and the Genius Young Lady

• Fantasy • Romance • Comedy • Isekai 

When noblewoman Euphyllia is unjustly stripped of her title as the kingdom’s next monarch, the buffoonish Princess Anisphia takes it upon herself to right this wrong. Despite being taken for a fool ’cause of her silly antics, Anisphia is a magic genius, and she has a plan to help Euphyllia regain her good name. But little do they know—their encounter will alter the kingdom and the entire world! Streaming on Crunchyroll (Sub)

Maria Watches Over Us

• School • Slice of Life • Senpai/Kouhai • Multiple Couples

Students at Lillian Girls’ Academy become “soeurs” to support each other during their time at school. Shy Yumi Fukuzawa never thought she’d attract a soeur like the beautiful Sachiko Ogasawara, but Sachiko has unexpectedly set her sights on Yumi!

Streaming on HIDIVE (sub)

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury

• Sci-Fi • Mecha • Action • School • Drama • Marriage

A.S. (Ad Stella) 122― An era when a multitude of corporations have entered space and built a huge economic system. A lone girl from the remote planet Mercury transfers to the Asticassia School of Technology, run by the Beneritt Group which dominates the mobile suit industry. Her name is Suletta Mercury. With a scarlet light burning in her pure heart, this girl walks step by step through a new world.

Streaming on Crunchyroll (sub/dub)

Otherside Picnic

• Action • Sci-FI • Horror • Slow Burn

Moments from death, Sorawo is saved by the mysterious Toriko in the world of the Otherside. Entranced by its beauty, she discovers that this dimension is inhabited by monsters once thought imaginary. Joining with Toriko in her search for a missing friend, they set out to explore this nightmare realm and maybe make a little money. What they encounter could bring enlightenment—or drive them mad!

Streaming on Crunchyroll (Sub/Dub)

Puella Magi Madoka Magica

• Fantasy • Magical Girl • Horror • Tragedy • Fated Lovers • Multiple Couples

Madoka Kaname is an average 14-year-old girl who loves her family and friends. One fateful day, this all changes when she has a very magical encounter with a strange creature called a Kyubey. Kyubey have the power to grant one wish to chosen girls. However, in exchange, those chosen must become magical girls and use their powers to fight against witches, evil creatures born from darkness and catalysts of despair. Was this encounter by chance or fate? No matter the circumstance, this will surely change her destiny.

Movies Beginnings and Eternal retell this legendary and dark fantasy story with new and retouched animation and voice acting. The sequel film Rebellion follows Homura, unable to let her memories die, the magical girl continues to fight alone in the world that Madoka left behind, dreaming of meeting that nostalgic smiling face one more time...

TV - Streaming on Crunchyroll/Hulu (Sub) Films licensed by Aniplex of America

Revue Starlight

• School • Action • Drama • Weak Yuri

Childhood friends Karen and Hikari promised that they would one day become the next theatrical stars. Years later, the two finally have their chance during a mysterious audition, but they are not the only ones who have trained for this moment.

Streaming on HIDIVE (Sub/Dub)

Riddle Story of Devil (Akuma no Riddle)

• School • Action • Enemies to Lovers • Multiple Couples • Love at First Sight

Twelve female assassins are sent to a prestigious boarding school to compete against each other in a secret killing game. The winner will be granted anything her heart desires, but only one girl can come out on top. The mission is simple: send fellow student Haru Ichinose to an early grave. The task should be easy for heartless assassin, Toukaku Azuma – but everything changes when she finds herself strangely drawn to her naive target. Her decision to use her lethal skills to keep her new friend alive will raise the stakes of the game and push the girls closer together as the other beauties threaten to tear them apart.

Streaming on Funimation (Sub/dub)

Sakura Trick

• School • Slice of Life • Comedy • Friends to Lovers • Multiple Couples

Best friends Haruka and Yu are about to take their relationship from friendship to something more when they share a kiss! But when one kiss becomes two and three, how will their relationship change?

Streaming on HIDIVE (Sub)

Strawberry Panic

• School • Drama • Romance • Senpai/Kouhai • Multiple Couples • Love at First Sight

Nagisa has just transferred to a prestigious all-girls school that happens to share a campus with two other elite academies for young women. The new surroundings are overwhelming but Nagisa quickly adapts to life in Strawberry Hall with the help of her new friends. However, when Nagisa catches the eye of the mysterious Shizuma, the respected representative of all three schools, both their lives are forever changed. A bond beyond mere friendship develops between the two ladies amidst a chaotic school year full of heated conflicts, petty jealousies, and crossed boundaries.

Streaming on Crunchyroll/RetroCrush (Sub)

Sweet Blue Flowers

• School • Romance • Drama • Friends to Lovers

Fumi Manjoume enters Kamakura's accelerated high school - Matsuoka All-Girls High School. While waiting at the Kamakura station on the day of her entrance ceremony, she runs into an old childhood friend whom she had not seen in 10 years: Akira Okudaira. As their friendship is rekindled and they start falling back into the rhythm of friends again, it starts a delicate love story...

Streaming on Crunchyroll (Sub)

Volicia of Pluto

• Action • Indie • Sci-Fi • Mecha

In 2006, Akiko Hoshigami’s dreams of track-and-field stardom are dashed after a leg injury. She enters high school with her best friend, Ayano Umisoe, and between club activites and meeting new friends, the empty Akio begins to resember her former self. Until one day, Ayano suddenly dissapears.

Streaming on YouTube (Sub)

Yurikuma Arashi

• School • Drama • Sci-Fi • Enemies to Lovers • Multiple Couples

In a world divided between humans and hyper-intelligent, man-eating bears, Kureha attends an all-girls school and holds onto a simple wish—to spend the rest of her life with her classmate and soul mate, Sumika. But after a secret rendezvous ends in tragedy, Kureha vows to never back down on her love and put a bullet in any bear she meets.

Streaming on Funimation (Sub/Dub)

YuruYuri

• School • Slice of Life • Comedy • Multiple Couples

Four students decide to occupy the room of the defunct tea ceremony club, dubbing it the ‘Amusement Club.’ While the Student Council does its best to eliminate this club, their endless energy, happiness, and comedy will keep audiences smiling all season long!

Streaming on Crunchyroll (Sub)

Read More of the 2023 Yuri Guide

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Support YuriMother on Patreon for early access and to read exclusive in-depth articles on Yuri and LGBTQ media.

[world-of-celebs]

Saoirse Ronan attends the 90th Annual Academy Awards Nominee Luncheon at The Beverly Hilton Hotel on February 5, 2018 in Beverly Hills, California. 

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

There’s only one bed

Summary: you and Nat go in a mission and there’s only one bed

Word Count: 1.7k

fluff

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

!NOT PROOFREAD!

Natasha's POV:

Fury Just called me into his office to have a mission debriefing. Normally we'd have the brief with all the Avengers but, this is an undercover mission and let's just say majority of the team aren't very good at that. They blow their cover all the time and can't persuade people to save their lives. Ironic because that's exactly what it does on missions, save their life.

I've been told I'm going with someone but a name hasn't been given yet. I hope it's not an Agent from the academy. They're all newbies so I'll have to hold their hand the whole mission because they're clueless. As I'm walking I bump into Wanda.

"Oh hey, good luck on your mission!" she cheerfully said.

"Thanks also, do you know who I'm going with? I mean like any details about them?"

"All I know is apparently she's very popular among her fellow students, and by that I mean, she's hot."

"Students?! Great, so she's from the academy?"

"Yeah but, Fury wouldn't send her with you if she couldn't handle it."

"I guess your right but they can be really annoying needing to be walked through every single step of the mission."

"I guess you're right but, rumour has it, she's the best of the best. Your level even."

"Ha, I've heard that one a hundred times before, no one's better than me c'mon Wands you know that."

"Haha, yeaah I know Nat but just give her a chance?"

"Fine, I will but, I got to get to Fury now, I'll see you around."

"Bye, good luck!"

We parted ways and I gave her a smile. I walked into Fury's office and was welcomed by the sight of a beautiful woman with wavy y/h/c and shining y/e/c eyes. I going to be honest Wanda wasn't lying, she's perfect. Oh my god, I can't be thinking about these things she's my mission partner! She was already sat down in a chair opposite Fury when I came in so I took the chair beside her.

Fury started talking first, "Thank you for both making the time to be here, as you know this is an undercover mission so, pack a bag that'll last at least 2 day and 2 nights. We can never predict what'll happen at these kind of events."

"Speaking of, what event is it and why exactly are we going?" I questioned

"Well I'm glad you asked. It's part organised by Darren McHugh, not a big name in any industry but filthy rich. Attending the party is Lauren Emerson, your target. All you need is information from her about a weapon Hydra is developing. Her father has every Hydra scientist and engineer in his pocket so, she'll know a lot. Now, she's interested in women which is why there is no men on this case with you. I need you y/n to seduce her and get intel while Natasha watches your 6 and looks for another possible target who, isn't confirmed to be there, but there's a good chance he will be.” Fury explained.

"What's the other guys name?" the other girl asked Fury responded, "James Scott."

"Is that all?" I ask

"Yes that's all. Here's your personal copies of the file and be ready at the quinjet in 30 minutes."

With that we both left but I couldn't help feel a pang of disappointment shoot through me at the thought of her flirting with other people. Damn I really need to snap out of this.

I got up to my room and pack my things. I also put in my red dress and black heels for the party and go to the quinjet. As I'm walking I see her already standing there. She catches me staring as I walk towards her and she extends her hand.

Reader POV:

I look over and see Agent Romanoff coming towards me, eyes trained directly at me. I offer my hand for her to shake and she does. "Agent y/l/n, y/n y/l/n."

“Natasha Romanoff.” She responds

With that we both boarded the ship, settled down and engaged in conversation. It was a long flight and we were going to have to spend the next 24-48 hours together so, may as well get to know each other. This conversation however turned into shamelessly flirting with each other constantly.

Time skip to when the ship lands and they get to the hotel (still reader pov):

We get the the hotel and Natasha asks for our reservation at the front desk. While she's doing that I take a minute to really take in this place because it's massive. There's a chandelier on the ceiling and art all over the walls. The architecture is beautiful and it has gold accents along every wall. It also smelt like vanilla, don't know why that's relevant but it smells nice.

I hear a 'thank you' and 'enjoy your stay' so I assume that Nat has got the key so I begin walking to the lift (elevator). I step in and so does Natasha just a bit behind me. She presses the button to the 5th floor and we stand in a comfortable silence for the short 10 second ride. The doors open with a ding and we step out and go look for our room. Natasha takes the lead and goes straight to our door and opens it with the key card.

"Wow Shield really outdid themselves with this one ay?" I think aloud

"Yeah, they really did." She agreed

As we were walking around the both of us were quick to realise something.

"There's only one bed." Natasha pointed out

"I was just thinking the same thing. I'll take the sofa I don't mind at all." I say trying to come up with a solution.

"No, it's okay I can." Natasha instantly tries to shut me down

"Honestly I'll sleep there it's fine." I repeat

"Look uhm, you don't have to but to save ourselves a very polite argument do you wanna just share it. I mean it's a double so..?" She nervously asked

"Yeah sure I mean, if your up for it?" I half mumble

"I'm the one who suggested it dummy of course i'm up for it."

I chuckle at her response and put down my bags by the bed. If I was being honest with myself I couldn't help the butterflies that formed when thinking about sharing a bed with her. Goddamnit, she's my superior I can't be thinking like this.

Natasha POV:

I brush my teeth and get changed in the bathroom whilst y/n orders room service. When I walk out she was getting changed so she only had a bra and pyjama trousers on.

"Oh.., oh! I'm so sorry!"

No sorry it's my fault I should've told you I was changing."

"It's fine, I mean we're both girls right? Nothing we haven't seen before."

"Yeah, yeah you're right, both girls."

"Never seen a girl with abs like that though."

The blush spread on her face faster than a forrest fire. She was flustered and I took great pride in knowing I did that. I made my way to the kitchen so I'd be ready for room service when it came.

Three knocks at the door alerted me that the food was here. I thanked the staff and put the food on the counter.

"Hey y/n tea's here!" I yelled to her. (It depends where your from but tea is just how we say evening meal, like dinner)

"Thank god, i'm starving." She gave me bright smile before plating everything up.

We sit on the sofa with our food and watch whatever trashy TV shows are on. We laugh at parts of it and it gives me butterflies, her laugh has quickly become my favourite sound. It's just so beautiful and care free, it also means she's happy which makes me happy. I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I hear her softly say.

"Hey you okay? Lost you for a second there."

“Yeah, oh um, yeah I'm fine just thinking."

“About what? You were very focused."

"Nothing don't worry about it. Anyway, it's late we should go to bed."

"Your right I'll take the plates into the kitchen."

While she was doing that I went to the bedroom and set up the bed. I was laying down when she came in, she tentatively lowered herself o to the bed and layer down facing me.

"You sure it was nothing?"

"It wasn't really nothing and I'm about to talk a lot and I don't want you to talk till I'm done okay?" I respond with a hesitancy in my tone.

"Go for it." she says.

"I like you, like really like you. I know it's wrong because I'm your superior and your not even out the academy yet but I'm 25 and your what like, 20, 21 give or take so it's not like it's weird. Also can you blame me? You're perfect. Everything about you is perfect. Even though we only just met I can't help falling for you y/n. I'm sorry if I've just ruined the friendship we built today but I really needed to get that off my chest."

I look her deep in the eyes for any kind of reaction to what I just said. After a couple seconds of processing she smiled at me. Probably the biggest smile i've ever seen her have. She still hasn't said anything so I speak up. "Well?"

She doesn't answer me, instead she gently grabs my face and kisses me softly. Our lips dance against one another as second nature. Once air becomes a problem we release from each other's grasp.

"I like you too, if that wasn't already clear."

She giggled like a school girl when I grabbed her waist and started peppering kisses all over her face. She stopped and snuggled closer to me and buried her head in my chest.

"This woman is the one for me" I thought to myself as I held her safe in my arms. Although I really wasn't looking forward to this mission now.

[solreino]

Swan Song

Chapter 1: Taking Flight

Summary: In preparation for your debut as Odette in Swan Lake, you encounter a few bumps in the road. Little do you know this is just the start.

Pairings: TF 141 x Reader

Word Count: 5.1K

Warnings: Eating Disorders, Toxic Beauty Standards, Creepy/Unwanted Behaviour, Period-Typical Attitudes (1910's), Innacurate Translations.

A/N: I'm not well informed about ballet, I have never danced it before, so I apologize for any inaccuracy regarding terminology. Also, the story is set mainly in Russia, so the reader is presumed to be of Russian origin.

MASTERLIST Next➔

[November 11th 1911, The Bolshoi Ballet Academy, Russia]

"1 and 2 and 3 and 4!”

Your eyebrows furrow in concentration as Mr. Lenkov begins to play Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake Suite, Op. 20a: I. Scene "Swan Theme" for what feels like the sixth time this hour. His nimble fingers dance across the ivory keys once again as the composition presumes its macabre melody.  

To say the last few weeks have been stressful would be a dire understatement. Since taking up the role of Odette in Autumn, you’ve yet to recall the last time you’d had the pleasure of succumbing to the sanctity of slumber, nor rest altogether for that matter. From dawn to dusk, you’ve found the studio becoming a second home to you; like an ever-so gracious host with a tendency for passive-aggressive hospitality, who coaxes you from the front door in promise of warm tea and a place to rest your head, insisting you stay "just one more hour". You know better, well at least you think you do, because beyond the studio door you know there’ll be no rest awaiting you, only relentless recital. Still, you don’t look back as you accept its welcoming embrace. Because- 

Anything but perfection would not suffice. You see, back-breaking discipline; impeccable precision; artistic competence; meticulous dedication, it’s nothing new to ballet and in turn, it’s nothing new to you, either. To be a ballerina means to surrender yourself to the artistry, and let your body become its mindless muse.

The Ballet industry is an anomaly compared to other artistic sectors. Unlike others, it subverges from the ideals of ‘beauty in the eye of the beholder’. Conformity is key. There are strict standards to be met and an unquestionable quota to be completed. Anything but, will not do. It disregards the need to sugarcoat its shallow requirements; skinnier, sharper, prettier, thinner; if it fulfills the requirements, it will suffice. 

Image is everything. It’s a shallow, superficial sentiment that directors set upon budding ballerinas like hounds to hares. From day one, they plant it into the impressionable minds of aspiring dancers. Uncontrollably, self-doubt sprouts like a stubborn weed. Each off-hand comment or direct dig, whether it be about a girl’s weight of en pointe form, encourages the festering parasite to root itself deeper into her mind. Then she grows older - it’s too late - and the parasitic thought has poisoned her once innocent outlook on life and has rotted it right to its roots. For the rest of her tragic life, the girl will only know the number on the scales, the image in the mirror, and the misery in her mind. 

You’ve seen it happen to others. You’ve seen it happen to you, because-  

Ballet has ensnared you - mind, body, and soul. Over the years, you’ve felt its callous claws dig deeper and deeper into your flesh, leaving scars so severe - both physically and mentally - sometimes the pretty pink ribbons you adorn your feet with prove futile in the bid to cover them. Prodding and poking and probing; fingers jabbing mercilessly into your sides, accompanying a doubly ruthless "you'll need to lose this extra weight if you want a spot on my stage". For a sport so vain, you ought to think it would go easy on its victims. A session of self-reflection proves otherwise.

You learn to bear and grin through it all. You don’t have much of a choice anyways. After all, many before you have suffered the same, and those who come after you will too. Because after many years of being a ballerina-

You learn to see beauty in the pain. 

The blood you bleed makes the red roses you receive at curtain call worthwhile; the sadistically sweat-inducing masterclasses make the shining smiles and standing ovations from awestruck audiences worthwhile; the tears make the champagne chutes you get to drink at the expense of your company worthwhile. You chase these highs like you do with stardom.  

All you've ever dreamed of since a little girl was to be a ballerina. Perhaps, it was the beautiful dresses a child of your class could only dream of back then, or how pretty the woman on the front page of your father’s newspaper looked posing on the tip of her toes. You don’t know for certain what exactly it was that enthralled you with it all. Sometimes, you wish you had never boarded that train to Moscow, never bothered with all that came with being a ballerina. It’s a selfish and self-deprecating thought, for you know if you were to stay on that homestead, there was an imminent chance you would have succumbed to the troubles of poverty you had faced back home. Admittedly, there are times you miss your life before coming to the city. None can be done about that, however.

Now, you have to push your body to its limits and beyond. Daily, you trespass boundaries you had once believed your body did not possess the ability to, reciting the same sequences endlessly, over and over again, until you physically can’t pursue your practice further that day. Even then, you find yourself persevering through the pain and fatigue; limbs heavy like lead; a mind strong like steel. If you knew your efforts were futile in the bid to rid yourself of any flaws in your dance, you would be wrong because-    

Ultimately, you knew no matter how much effort you exerted, the Dance Principal; Ballet Mistress; the reputable Madame Orlova would not miss a single thing.

For decades, word has circled Moscow of the cold-hearted, quick-witted, sharp-tongued old woman who ran the prestigious academy with an iron fist. It was just your luck that she had taken you under her wing as one of her pupils. You dare say she had taken a liking to you, though, she did have a tough way of showing her fondness onto others. 

Never a day was there without some sort of mistake to be mended by her recognition. At times you think God had cursed her to be forever unfulfilled in her outlook of life. The others in the Troupe seem to think so too. 

You dread to think of how much Mr Lenkov’s fingers must be hurting from playing the same melody over and over again for this past hour. It wouldn’t surprise you if the composition begins to haunt your dreams like a creaky, broken music box. You’ve never had the pleasure of owning one, though you had seen one in the window of a repair shop one time and-

And, as the Ballet Mistress shouts at Mr Lenkov to cease his playing, you know she has once more found a flaw in your dancing. 

The symphony stops abruptly with a garble of incoherent notes before it can reach its crescendo. Inwardly, you sigh. 

"No, no, no!" She scolds.

Her boney fingers rub feverishly against her temple in frustration. Rising slowly from her chair before you, her walking cane thumps anticipating against the studio’s oakwood floor as she ambles towards you. Wrinkled eyes bore into you; you struggle to withstand the urge not to writhe under the intensity of her stare.

"Your arms,” She begins slowly, her gaze raking over you in scrutiny, “They are stiff.” 

“From the shoulder to the fingertips,” She gestures with her hand down the length of your arm as she speaks. “It must flow, like the wing of a swan.”

She uses the moment of silence as you take on the command to survey your form, prodding and poking your stance to adjust it to her liking. 

“Do not forget this.” She finishes. 

"Yes, Madame Orlova," You nod in acknowledgment, wincing slightly each time her finger jabs into your shoulder blades and readjust your position to better suit her expectations. 

She huffs a breath in what you can only presume is somewhat satisfaction, signaling for Mr Lenovo to resume playing.

“Again!”

The song resumes its somber sound, and you take heed to the Ballet Mistress’ words. Flowing from your shoulder blades to your fingertips, you encapture the essence of the White Swan; melancholy in her mourning of a lover whose heart he had promised to another. She is vulnerable in her virtue, and she shows that in her final flight. Odette longs for the skies, for an escape from the betrayal of who she had held dear, but her wings fail her. In desperation, she flexes and flaps her wings, but alas, she cannot take flight. And so-

You spiral in a presession of slow spins, arms portraying the anguished attempt the Swan Queen takes to take flight for the final time before decelerating into a despairing descent as Odette. The tune tumbles to its end from beneath Mr. Lenkov’s fingers as you complete your practiced plummet to the studio floor, encasing your body with your arms the wings of the white swan, as the grief-stricken creature takes its final breath. 

You raise your head to look at Madame Orlova.

And, for the first time in your decade-long enrollment at the Bolshoi Ballet School, you think you see the infamously stone-faced stone-hearted ballet mistress smile. 

It's a cold evening in Moscow tonight. The winter winds thrash ferociously at the loose and unraveling threads of your scarf. Whilst it does little to protect you from the frigid frost lingering in the air, you wear it anyways as any warmth you can garner to combat the icy environment is, in your eyes, worthwhile.

Snowflakes dust your hair with specks of glistening white, gathering upon the crown of your head where you have neglected to put on a hat. They tickle your nose and gently brush against your rosy cheeks as you tilt your head back. Your face turned towards the sky; watching as the snow twirls and tumbles from the clouds above, gradually blanketing the ground ahead in a pristine carpet of soft white. It crunches as you walk towards the theatre, leaving footsteps on the once-untouched landscape. You take extra caution not to slip on any hidden ice - an injury is the last thing you needed on a day as imperative as this. 

Somewhere in the far distance, the Kremlin bells ring. 

Thirteen mighty chimes thunder throughout the city. You feel the ground rumble in response beneath your feet - a reminder to hurry.

Rushing up the snowy steps of the Bolshoi Ballet Theatre, you quickly let yourself inside in an attempt to escape the chilling temperatures of the Moscovian evening - and to avoid running behind schedule. 

The warm air inside greets you welcomingly. You eagerly pull off your gloves in its presence to soak up the heat it has to offer. Slowly, you begin to regain feeling into your fingers. Sighing a relieved breath, you make your way backstage as the marble floor of the foyer echoes noisily beneath your shoes.

There, you receive a not-so-calm yet begrudgingly familiar greeting. 

Pre-performance is usually like this; congested backstage corridors; a cacophony of frantic demands and directions; boxes of overflowing props and costumes rushed up and down the hall; the deafening pounding of ballerinas breaking in their pointe shoes;  dim lighting making it near impossible to navigate. However today, with your debut as the company’s newly appointed principal dancer just hours away, it feels even more nerve-wrackingly overwhelming. 

You brace yourself as you get swept away in the havoc of opening night, tangled in the rambunctious crowd as it traverses through the labyrinth of backstage passageways.

Despite the absurd amount of people crammed in corridors unable to withstand even a fraction of their current capacity, you miraculously manage to maneuver your way to the dressing room; elbow-to-rib style, ducking under boxes and weaving past those racing in the opposite direction. 

Relief hits you as you swing open the dressing room door, closing it quickly behind you as your eyes blink rapidly to adjust to the bright lighting inside. The much more quieter, yet seemingly livelier chatter of friendly conversation and girlish giggles encompasses you as you move further into the dressing room. You shrug off your coat, laying it to rest on the coathanger and take your seat in front of your dresser.

Tranquility seeps into your bones as you slouch against the chair’s backrest momentarily, soaking up the opportunity of rest no matter how short-lived the moment may be. Mentally, you take the moment to prepare yourself for the evening, and all the chaos and calamity it is sure to bring. 

Sighing, you straighten yourself up in your seat, glancing at your reflection in the mirror as you do so. 

"I didn't know you had a secret admirer.” 

You don’t turn around as the voice chimes up from behind you. You of all people know better than to entertain her playful antics. 

The voice reveals itself from its lurking in the background, resting her chin just above your collarbone and draping her arms over your shoulder. 

Your eyes meet hers in the reflection. She grins back at you.

“Valeria.” You sigh, patting the hand resting around your shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”

Valeria, crowned tonight’s Black Swan, is one of the company’s longer-serving principal dancers and has self-appointed herself as your tutor and friend as of late. Graciously, she has taken you under her wing these past couple of months as you have gradually adjusted to your newly bestowed title, joining her amongst the Bolshoi’s most prestigious ranks. 

“You too,” She smirks, a little too suspiciously for your liking, pecking your cheek in greeting before returning to her seat at her vanity next to you. “You too.”

You begin to rummage through your stage makeup, tilting the mirror toward you so you can better see, before laying out your needed products on the desk space. You pay no mind to her mischievous staring as you do so. But, as you have learned over your time acquainted with Valeria, nothing can deter her from getting what she wants. And right now, that is to find out who this supposed ‘secret admirer’ is.

"So tell us then," She drawls teasingly, "Who's the lucky boy?"

The edge of your desk presses uncomfortably into your side as you turn to give her your attention. For the time being, anyways. You yourself are somewhat curious as to what she is talking about. But the sooner you can resolve this suppositious accusation, the sooner you can resume to the real issue at hand - getting ready for Swan Lake. 

Confusion stirs at her question, and you tilt your head to the side, urging her to explain further.

A ribbon-wrapped gift box is pushed toward you. You watch on, confused. 

Valeria’s legs swing idly back and fro as she gazes at you expectantly. The corners of her lips tug further into a grin at the silence that ensues and at the completely dumbfounded expression on your face. When you give her no answer, her Cheshire-cat-like grin falters. 

The girls around you giggle, peering over from their makeup stations to indulge in the drama unfolding. Valeria shoots them a look from over your shoulder, one you cannot decipher, but it quietens them down. 

“For me?” you ask doubtfully, slightly stumbling over your words as you take the generous gift into your hands. “Oh Valeria, you shouldn’t have-”

“Not from me.” She huffs.

“I don’t understand,” you mumble, eyes scanning over the gift as you look for a label, a note, a letter, anything that may reveal the gifter’s identity. “Who could this be from?”

She shrugs indifferently, turning to focus on her reflection in the mirror, transfixed on getting the edges of her lipstick just right. 

“The girls who were here before me said it came delivered to the dressing rooms earlier this hour-” She smiles at her appearance, appreciating her flawless makeup in the mirror. Placing the lipstick tube down with a quiet thump, she turns to focus her attention on you once more. 

She pokes a finger at you in playful accusation. “-Asking for you specifically!” 

It’s your turn to shrug your shoulders, unable to give her the answer she craves, for what reason, is beyond you.  

She eyes you incredulously, before returning her attention to her mirror seemingly unable to neglect her reflection for just a moment longer.

“Well,” She gestures toward the ribbon-wrapped gift with her free hand, playing an unbothered facade. You know full well she is practically itching to uncover this mystery. “Are you going to open it?”

Your eyes dart between her and the suspicious box, almost expecting this to be some sort of ruse, perhaps she had given you a jack-in-the-box and was waiting for you to get the fright of your life; her idea of fun.

Hesitantly, you begin the unravel the sheer ribbon keeping the box from opening. The fabric rubs soothingly against your fingertips, a luxury fabric you have not had the experience of touching before. It was clear that whoever had purchased this was of a wealthy background.  Perhaps, you think, you could make this into a bow to wear. 

You don’t know what you were expecting when you lifted its lid, but you definitely were not expecting a pair of .

“Aye chingao!” Valeria startles as she leans over your shoulder to get a better look.

Nestled between a blanket of draped deluxe fabric, a pearlescent pink, almost winter-white, pair of the most exquisitely crafted pointe shoes lie. You fail to restrain the exasperated sigh of awe at the sight, carefully grazing your fingertips over its silky satin finish as if the slightest touch could possibly damage them. You can confidently say, they are the most beautiful gift you have ever had the pleasure of receiving. 

“No secret admirer,” she says.” Valeria quirks an eyebrow up at you.

"Don't be ridiculous, it's probably just costuming.” You dismiss her far-fetched conspiracies, though, you find it hard to draw your eyes away from the pair of shoes, and the fact that this had definitely not come from the costume department. So who had sent you these?

"Ha, as if Mr. Baryshev would ever allow the budget given to costuming to be used for anything but lining his own pockets!” She laughs bitterly. 

“I’ve been-” Valeria exhales out a frustrated breath, “-trabajando como un burro to afford the means to get wear this!” She growls, her hands gesturing to the coal-coloured feathered fabric of her intricate bodice and tutu. 

You open your mouth to give her your consolation before a knock comes to the door. You, Valeria, and the rest of the room quieten into hushed murmuring - just for a moment. Then-

“On in 30, Ladies!” A gruff voice hollers from the other side of the door.

The room erupts into chaos.

A tsunami of frantic ballerinas surge forward towards the row of dressers, crashing against each other like the tides of a raging sea you had heard many-medal adorning men recount about in tales of some distant land. The only redeeming thing about conducting post-performance business is the stories and tales you overhear; the rest, you are not so keen on.

You take the distraction in stride, shoving the pair of shoes more like semi-worn in pointe hand-me-downs from costuming somewhere under your vanity, and replacing them with your newly acquired gift.

“You’re going to wear them?!” Valeria hisses incredulously. 

You glance at her sideways, smirking back at the priceless expression of amused disbelief on her face.

“Well, they’re shoes, aren’t they?” You jest, grinning at her mischievously. “It would be a shame not to.”

She shakes her head in mock-dissappointment, haphazardously stuffing her stage makeup in its designated drawer before firmly slamming it shut. 

“I fear my mischief is rubbing off on you too much.” She mumbles as she looks up at you, feigning a tone of dismay, only to be betrayed by the growing smirk on her face. 

“Well,” She smoothes her hands over her slicked-back bun of cropped raven hair, "I'll see you out there." 

You give her your goodbyes as she pats you on the shoulder, rising from her chair and making her way toward the dressing room’s door. 

“Don’t let the Director find out,” Valeria whisper-shouts from over her shoulder. “You know what he’s like.”

She ushers the remaining lingering corps-de-ballet girls out of the changing rooms, winking at you as she closes the door gently behind her. 

You listen as the chatter slowly retreats from beneath the doorframe, Valeria’s distinct, accented laughter mingled with that of fast-paced Russian retreating down the echoey corridor ‘till you could hear it no more. A serene silence hugs the now-semi abandoned dressing room; those, including you, who aren’t to appear until later acts remain, a more pacific atmosphere stirs, with subdued gossiping, softer laughter, and a more slowing-encroaching sense of time.

You slump in your chair. 

You have a long evening ahead of you.

The rear of house is relatively quieter now.

You can no longer hear the lively chatter associated with the pre-performance buzz, only the occasional hushed conversation resurfacing through the suffocating silence as people pass by. Walking backstage is always an awkward feat, your pointe shoes make an unpleasantly loud noise against the cold concrete floor with each precarious step you take. 

You had felt bad for having to break them in; they were an extraordinaryly well-crafted pair of pointé shoes, they fit perfectly too, and you were certain the price tag was even more extravagant. You still hadn’t resolved the identity of the mystery gifter, but you’d make sure to thank them profusely for their kindness. For now, however, you have a debut to make. 

Your feet thump rapidly as you semi-rush toward the entrance to the left wing. The further you near, the more people it seems are gathered in anticipation for their appearances onstage. The conversation is greater here than that of in the deeper bowels of the theatre where the dressing room had been. Mingling herds of ballerinas and dancers lean idle against the walls, stretching in preparation for their scenes, and chatting amongst themselves, but done so in more gentle, lower tones so as not to alert the audience of their presence a mere wall away. 

They regard you with reassuring smiles and words of good luck as you briskly waddle by; you reciprocate them with a short-but-sweet smile. 

The music grows in amplitude as you enter the left wing officially; the once gentle thrumming is replaced with an all-encompassing eruption of expertly strung-together instruments. The welcoming embrace of the song is quickly diminished though, much to your dismay because-

The rafters here have always given you the creeps. With no help from Valeria either, who  divulges in gossip of the ‘ballerina’ who had been ‘crushed to death’ by a poorly-secured light fixture on the theatre’s proscenium arch each time she catches you gazing nervously upwards at the looming space. You know it’s mainly just the technicians who lurk up in the rafters, commandeering light cues and stage transformation sequences as the ballet progresses. 

‘You have nothing to fear’, you admonish yourself. 

Still, that doesn’t stop the hair on the back of your neck from standing up as you approach the left stage-side.

Your presence goes unnoticed for not even a second. 

Someone speaks your name in a hushed whisper.

You peer over your shoulder at the source of the sound; the silhouette of a stout-statured man emerges from the left-wing doorway. He seizes you suddenly by the shoulders before you even have time to recognise the overly-touchy-friendly Mr. Ustrashkin.

You stagger at the sudden force with which he embraces you, regaining your balance with an awkward squeak. It is only then do you see the disconcerted look that his face has taken on.

“Mr Ustrashkin?” You begin hesitantly. “Is something the matter?”

“Walk with me, dear.” He requests, but he has already pulled you into motion with the firm grip of his hand on your shoulder.

The two of you trail off to the side to make way for the group of pas de corps, and for the privacy of what you can only assume to be bad news. The ballerinas smile respectfully at you, lowering their heads slightly as they account for your company before skittering off, their ghostly white tutus fluttering by behind them like swirling snowflakes. 

When the last of the dancers had passed by, Mr. Ustrashkin speaks again. You take the small queue of silence to compose yourself exteriorly for what is to come. 

“Something..." He stalls, theatrically contemplating the correct word to use before resuming. "...unexpected came up within these previous hours. A true shame it is, but Fyodor, your dance partner, has sustained an ankle injury. As you can understand, he will be out of commission for the foreseeable future, and unfortunately is unable to perform with you tonight." 

Your heart sinks. It collapses from your chest cavity like a marionette doll on snapped strings; as its puppet master surveilled with cruel glee from above. You wonder what you had done to anger God, for him to administer such a thing onto you. On today of all days too. 

“Oh, um, I-” You stumble over your words in a tangled array of shock, panic, disbelief and uncertainty.  

“None of that now, little swan.” Mr. Ustrashkin tuts, almost as one would scold a misbehaving child. 

You recoil at the unwanted nickname, but are too overcome with internal panic at the newly arisen situation to pay it much mind. Saying anything anyways will get you in trouble, and you have climbed too far into the good graces of the executives of the company to fall out of favour for something so insignificant. 

You struggle to maintain your composure, hanging on the thread of internal and external unbridled alarm. You bite the inside of your cheek to withhold any curses from escaping your mouth.

‘On all days this could have possibly happened on.’ You mumble to yourself mentally. 

“So, if Fyodor isn’t dancing tonight..” Your eyebrows scrunch up in confusion, eyes trailing from Mr. Ustrashkin and the conversation at hand to the semi-concealed view of the stage. “Who is dancing Prince Siegfried onstage as we speak?”

Swan Lake has been going for around an hour by now, but with your appearance not until the second act, you needn’t be in as much of a rush as those in the first. You had spent that time responsibly; the majority of which was in the dressing room ensuring the costuming was to standard and ogling over the anonymous gift. Much to your displeasure, that also meant you didn’t have the pleasure of seeing everyone off at curtain opening, and you hadn’t been able to catch a glimpse of this ‘Mactavish’ Mr Ustrashkin had been singing his praises about to you. 

"Do not fret that pretty little head," The plump man quips. Mr. Ustrashkin pats your back, presumably in an act of reassurance, but the force which he uses almost sends you stumbling forward. "His understudy, Mactavish, has taken up his role."

“Mactavish?” Your head tilts to the side as the syllables of the foreign-sounding name roll off your tongue with a questioning implication. 

“Oh yes!” He startles with a cheery smile. “A wonderful dancer through and through. We scouted his talent in London and had him transferred from The Royal Ballet to dance for us instead.” He rambles on in recollection. “Though the two of you aren’t properly acquainted yet, I’m sure he’ll be substantial as a dance partner in Fyodor’s absence.”

All you can do is nod your head absentmindedly, hoping to be relieved of his unwanted presence. And, like all men are, his attention is quickly drawn to another. 

A loud laugh barks out from across in the right wing. 

“Valeria!” The now-agitated man growls lowly, his teeth grinding together as he storms toward her as quickly as his little legs can carry him. 

‘So that’s where she went,’ you think, half-bemused, half-concerned. You also thank her in your head for unknowingly getting you out of a conversation you no longer had any interest in being involved in.

Rolling your shoulders to relieve some tension that had been building up, your eyes search diligently for someplace to stretch before your presence on stage is needed. Finding one, you make sure to apply an ample amount of rosin to the bottom of your shoes before skittering your way over. 

The minutes pass by neither quickly nor slowly, more like a muddled mixture of the two. Your body moves without control, years and years of dedicated practice leading up to this much anticipated moment allowing your body to memorize the moves. Your thoughts, however, are the fore-focus of your attention. They rumble through your mind like a blinding blizzard, burying any logical thought with a suffocating, unmoveable barrier of bleak snow and amounting stage fright. 

The Pit Orchestra unleashes Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake, Op. 20, Act 1: No. 9, Finale Andante’s crescendo upon the awestricken audience as such Zeus would do to the land below Mount. Olympus with his thunderbolts. If you dare a glance, you may manage to see Mr. Lenkov strumming his harp melodically, or his musical protégé he can’t help himself but boast about day in-day out. 

The floor beneath your feet vibrates as the composition reverberates deafeningly throughout the auditorium; you would struggle to believe the crystal chandelier that looms overhead is not swinging violently nor the champagne glasses the aristocrats’ cradle has not shattered at the absurd volume. Though, it could just be the nervous shaking of your legs.

You catch fleeting visions of the dancers on stage; their shadows flickering in and out of view like the dimming flame of candlelight. Your thoughts are once again drawn back to Fyodor’s supposed understudy. Not once had you had a recital with him, and so you could only hope he was adequately practiced for his role. 

The melody of Act 1’s final act concludes with the triumphant trill of the violin ensemble. The audience erupts into an oscillating ovation; cheering, clapping, whistling; at a volume so loud it could rival its predecessor. Your doubts about Mactavish’s adequacy are quickly disproven. 

It only brings a sliver of comfort, however. 

You linger in the shadows for a moment, trembling fingers brushing hesitantly against the fabric before you. Then, cautiously, you peer out from behind the safety of the illustrious velvet curtains. Your jittery hands fiddle with their golden tassels as you gaze at the exceedingly large audience. The auditorium of the theatre had never been so full.

You try not to let the sheer amount of people overwhelm you; a thousand thousand faces staring stagebound.

You fail.

And as the announcer commences the beginning of tonight's performance, you also fail to notice the man watching you from across the other side of the stage.

 “Bolshoi Ballet proudly presents Swan Lake!”

[littlemissferret]

01 ,, BEDWARS

series : BASTARDS IN MÜNCHEN <parts: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05>

sypnosis: you find out who put the bastard(s) in bastard münchen

no prns used (reader). bm academy era. they're all 15/16-ish? cw: swearing. use of word "smegma". petty arguments. *note: "schnick, schnack, schnuck" is german's (childish) version of "rock, paper, scissors" & its not used in all regions !

You don’t know what you had expected. Years long of being involved in the sports industry, playing football with all kinds of players. You should’ve expected these bunch were no better than the average rowdy teens from back home.

“Hey, man. Why not we schnick, schnack, schnuck* for it? ‘Cuz I’m really not excited about being stuck in here with you stubborn smegmas for the whole day doing this.”

“Tone it down with the crude language, will you? And you’re just as stubborn!”

“Great! It’s settled then. You both will duke it out over there while I have my beauty sleep right on this bed.”

Kaiser walks over to the bed the two other men were pointing at, deeming himself to be the one worthy of the soft mattress. Flipping his stomach onto the duvet as he shoves his face into the fresh pillow.

“Hey! We haven’t decided who gets the bed yet!” The nerve of this guy, Ness thinks to himself. First day of the prestigious Bastard München Academy, and he’s already so restless talking to his roommates. Oh no.. how well are they going to fare on the field if this is how they act over a bed?

Well, whatever. There's nothing you can do about their behavior anyway. Footballers will be footballers, stubbornly fueled with their (still-subconscious) ego. If sleeping arrangements are what they're pettily fighting over right now, then so be it.

You, of course, as the bigger person- will help them settle this case. Just this once.

You decide that you were rightfully the one worthy of the said bed. So you walk over to the group, frowning as you start poking and pulling on Kaiser’s hair.

“Go find your own bed to sleep on, I need a rest having to witness you all kick the ball around like primary schoolers on the field today.” Relentlessly trying to display your fatigue, you fake a yawn after your short statement- as if you didn’t just spit an insult at their previous play on the field.

Irked by the constant tugging of his blond tresses, Kaiser turns his face sideways on the pillow to glare at you- as you’re still jerking his golden locks to your direction.

“Excuse me? I can clearly recall absolutely destroying you and your team today. The loser’s bed is thataway,” with an eyebrow raised, he catches your criminal hand and lifts a delicate finger to the direction of the two bunk beds near the door.

“I haven’t lost at all,” you retort, cocking an eyebrow to mimic him as a challenge. “Out of everyone on the field, I was the only one that has single handedly managed to read the moves of every single one of you out there- and reacted to them.” You boast cockily, discarding the fact that your team had lost to Kaiser and Ness in that practice match.

Ness frowns at the blatant shit-talking, “Then why didn’t you react to Kaiser’s shots?” Calling out your bullshit, he presses on. “Weren’t you just standing there most of the match watching everyone run around? How did coach not sub you out, honestly.”

You roll your eyes, sighing and all to be dramatic as you wave your hand dismissively at him. “I was simply wisely spending my first day scouting out my opponents. Besides, I didn’t need to react to your plays because even if I did, my teammates would be either too caught up with you or too far up from defence position to assist me anyway.”

Kaiser smirks as he waves his finger at you, “Excuses, excuses. Have your loser’s lament on the bunk beds, won’t you? This sturdy bed is for winners. Now shoo, I’ve got no time to spend on listening to you losers whine about your loss.”

“Huh? But I won too, I was on your team!” Ness furrows his brows at Kaiser’s unwillingness to budge, “...Fine, then I’ll take the top bunk of this one.” Given that it is getting pretty late, he scurries to climb up and claim one of the top bunks before anyone else does.

“Ugh, if I’m off to take a late night shower to cool off. All of your bickering pissed me off,” spoken like no one ever, Gesner huffs, slinging his towel over his shoulder and walks out of the room. “I’m not happy with this arrangement by the way, we’ll continue this tomorrow!” He voices out in the hallway.

By a miracle, Grim was already dead asleep in bed. (The bottom bunk, boy is too sad to give a rat’s ass about sleeping arrangements. If there’s a bed he’ll take it.)

“Whatever, I’ll just have to win the next match tomorrow and take back my bed then.” you scoff, giving Kaiser a stink-eye as you walk to the other top-bunk.

The messy blond displays a shit-eating grin, then yawns sarcastically at you.

“Try your best, you eristic loser.”

© littlemissferret 2024 ✦ do not repost, translate or modify .

personally i would NOT take that level of disrespect ...

- here's a short scenario! i wanted to write reader to be a lot more stubborn than this, but was afraid that i'll get carried away - hoping to make this a bm academy timeline series but we'll see 🙏 yes its my first time writing a fan-work how could u tell 😭

[cool-fancier]

Rhythm of Our Hearts

Synopsis: you, a small-town choreographer, whose life changes when global K-pop star Lisa asks for collaboration, sparking a journey of dance, dreams, and unexpected romance.

Word count:1.9K

This was requested and I hope I did okay, so if any of you guys do have requests of the girls , please do let me know and I promise I will try my best.

The world of dance was all you had ever known. From the time you could walk, your feet had found rhythm and movement as naturally as most children discover speech. Growing up in a small town, you never imagined that your passion for choreography would lead you to the heights of fame and success. Your journey had been a whirlwind of hard work, dedication, and a bit of luck. But it wasn't until the fateful day when Lisa Manoban, the global K-pop sensation, walked into your life that everything changed.

— — — — —

The crisp autumn morning in Los Angeles was beautiful. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a golden hue over the city. You had an early call at the studio, a place that had become your second home. Your name was renowned in the dance world, and you had worked with some of the biggest names in the industry. But today, you had no idea what was in store for you.

As you arrived at the studio, coffee in hand, and greeted your team, you were prepping for a new project when you received an unexpected phone call. It was Sean Bankhead, a fellow choreographer and one of your closest friends.

"Hey, I need you to come to Studio B. Now," Sean's voice had an urgency that piqued your curiosity.

You made your way to Studio B, wondering what could be so important. As you entered, you were greeted by the sight of Lisa Manoban, the superstar from BLACKPINK. She was even more stunning in person, her presence commanding the room effortlessly.

"Hey," Sean said, a wide grin on his face. "Meet Lisa. She has a special request."

Lisa turned towards you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I've been a huge fan of your work," she began, her voice as smooth as silk. "I'm working on a new solo project, and I was hoping you could choreograph the dance for my song 'Rockstar.'"

You were taken aback. Choreographing for Lisa was an opportunity of a lifetime. "Of course, I'd be honored," you replied, trying to keep your composure.

Lisa's smile widened. "Great! I'm so excited to work with you. Let's make something unforgettable."

As the days passed, you and Lisa spent countless hours in the studio, perfecting every move, every beat. She was incredibly talented and dedicated, and your sessions were a blend of hard work and creativity. You began to develop a rhythm, not just in your dance but in your interactions.

Between breaks, you'd sit and chat, sharing stories about your lives, your struggles, and your dreams. You learned about her journey from Thailand to becoming a global icon, and she listened intently as you recounted your path from a small-town dancer to a renowned choreographer.

— — — — —

Your late-night sessions became a routine. The studio, usually bustling with activity, would grow quiet as the night deepened. It was during these moments that your bond began to grow stronger.

One night, after a particularly grueling practice, you sat on the floor, exhausted but exhilarated.

"You know," Lisa said, looking thoughtful, "I've always felt like an outsider, even in the industry. It's hard to find people who understand."

You nodded, understanding the feeling all too well. "I get it. Sometimes, even in a room full of people, you can feel completely alone."

You talked about your dreams, both fulfilled and unfulfilled. Lisa spoke about her desire to explore different aspects of her artistry, beyond just music. You shared your aspirations of starting a dance academy for underprivileged kids, to give them the opportunities you never had.

"Maybe one day, we can combine our passions," Lisa suggested, her eyes lighting up with the idea. "Imagine a school that nurtures both dance and music."

You smiled at the thought. "That would be amazing. We could change so many lives."

Unbeknownst to you, Sean had been observing your growing closeness. One afternoon, as you took a break, he pulled you aside.

"You and Lisa seem to be getting along pretty well," he remarked, a teasing glint in his eye.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. "She's great to work with. We have a lot in common."

Sean raised an eyebrow. "Just work, huh? Well, whatever it is, I'm happy for you. It's good to see you both so inspired."

— — — — —

One rainy afternoon, as you sat by the window watching the raindrops dance on the glass, Lisa opened up about her past. She spoke about her childhood in Thailand, the struggles her family faced, and the sacrifices they made for her to pursue her dreams.

"I was just a kid with big dreams," she said, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "Leaving home at such a young age was tough, but I knew I had to do it."

Her story resonated with you deeply. You admired her resilience and determination. "You're incredibly strong, Lisa. Your journey is truly inspiring."

Lisa turned the conversation towards you, curious about your own story. You recounted your early years, growing up in a small town where opportunities were scarce. Dance had always been your escape, your way of expressing emotions you couldn't put into words.

"My parents didn't understand my passion," you confessed. "They wanted me to follow a more traditional path. But I couldn't give up on my dreams."

Lisa reached out, placing a comforting hand on yours. "And look where you are now. You're living your dream."

— — — — —

As your project progressed, so did your connection. There were moments when your hands would brush accidentally, sending a jolt of electricity through you. Your conversations grew more personal, your laughter more genuine.

One evening, after a particularly intense rehearsal, you found yourselves alone in the studio. The air was thick with unspoken words and unsaid emotions.

"Do you ever wonder what life would be like if we hadn't followed our dreams?" Lisa asked, breaking the silence.

You nodded. "Sometimes. But then I realize that every choice we made led us to this moment. And I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Sean, ever the perceptive friend, noticed the subtle changes between you. One day, as you took a break outside the studio, he brought it up.

"You know, it's rare to find someone who truly understands you," he said, looking at you meaningfully. "Don't let that go."

You knew he was right. Lisa and you shared a bond that went beyond your professional relationship. It was something special, something worth exploring.

— — — — —

Your choreography for 'Rockstar' was finally coming together. It was a fusion of powerful moves and graceful transitions, a perfect reflection of Lisa's dynamic personality. You spent long hours perfecting every detail, ensuring it was flawless.

One evening, as you practiced a particularly challenging sequence, Lisa stumbled and fell into your arms. Your eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still.

"Are you okay?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lisa nodded, her breath coming in short gasps. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... lost my balance."

As you sat on the floor, catching your breath, Lisa looked at you with a seriousness you hadn't seen before.

"There's something I need to tell you," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "These past few weeks, working with you... I've felt something I haven't felt in a long time."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for her to continue.

"I don't know where this is going, but I know that I want to find out," she said, her eyes searching yours for a response.

You took a deep breath, your mind racing. "Lisa, I feel the same way. This connection between us... it's special. And I don't want to ignore it."

— — — — —

With your feelings out in the open, Lisa and you decided to take things slow. You continued working on the choreography, but now there was an added layer of excitement and anticipation in your interactions.

You started spending more time together outside of the studio, exploring the city, sharing meals, and enjoying each other's company. Your bond grew stronger with each passing day, and you knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

Sean, ever the supportive friend, was thrilled to see you both happy. "You two deserve this," he said one evening as you sat in his living room, discussing your progress. "It's rare to find a connection like this. Don't take it for granted."

His words resonated with you, and you vowed to cherish every moment with Lisa.

The day of the music video shoot finally arrived. The set was buzzing with energy as the crew prepared for the shoot. Lisa and you went over the choreography one last time, ensuring everything was perfect.

As the cameras rolled, you moved together seamlessly, your bodies in perfect harmony. The dance was a powerful expression of your journey, your struggles, and your triumphs.

— — — — —

The music video was a massive success, garnering millions of views within hours of its release. Fans and critics alike praised the choreography, and Lisa's performance was hailed as one of her best.

But beyond the accolades and the applause, what mattered most to you was the bond you had formed with Lisa. You had created something beautiful together, and your connection went far beyond the dance floor.

With the project behind you, Lisa and you began to explore new horizons. You started working on your dream of opening a dance and music academy, a place where young talents could nurture their skills and pursue their dreams.

Your journey was just beginning, and you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together.

— — — — —

"We did it," Lisa said softly, her eyes shimmering with pride as she looked at you.

You smiled, squeezing her hand gently. "Yeah, we did. And it's just the beginning."

The air between you was charged with a mix of accomplishment and something more, something that had been growing between you with each passing day.

"I couldn't have asked for a better partner," Lisa admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Me neither," you replied, your gaze locked with hers. In that moment, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet embrace of the studio.

Lisa's hand reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, her touch gentle yet electrifying. "Y/n..." she murmured, her breath mingling with yours.

You leaned in closer, feeling the warmth of her breath on your lips. "Lisa," you whispered back, your heart racing.

And then, without another word, your lips met in a kiss that spoke volumes of the unspoken feelings between you. It was a kiss filled with passion and tenderness, a culmination of the bond you had forged through sweat, laughter, and shared dreams.

Time seemed to stand still as you kissed, each moment etching itself into your memory. The studio around you faded into insignificance, leaving only the sensation of Lisa's lips against yours, the softness of her touch, and the overwhelming certainty that this was where you belonged.

When you finally pulled back, a soft smile played on Lisa's lips, her eyes shining with a depth of emotion that mirrored your own.

"That was..." she began, her voice barely a whisper.

"Perfect," you finished, your fingers intertwining with hers.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow through the studio windows, you knew that this was just the beginning of your journey together. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you were ready to face them side by side.