#Takeoff Projects

[takeoffproject]

Machine Learning Projects at Takeoff Projects

Machine Learning is a powerful technology that helps computers learn from data and make intelligent decisions. It is widely used in industries like healthcare, finance, e-commerce, and robotics to improve efficiency and accuracy. As the demand for machine learning experts grows, working on real-world projects has become essential for students and professionals.

At Takeoff Projects, we provide hands-on machine learning projects that help you gain practical experience. Our projects cover various fields such as image recognition, natural language processing, fraud detection, and recommendation systems. By working on these projects, you will learn how to collect and process data, build predictive models, and fine-tune algorithms for better performance.

We offer step-by-step guidance, making it easy for beginners to understand the concepts and implement them. Our projects are designed to give you a deep understanding of machine learning tools and techniques. Whether you want to develop a chatbot, detect fake news, or improve customer recommendations, we have the right project for you.

With the increasing demand for AI and machine learning professionals, having real-world project experience can give you a competitive advantage. At Takeoff Projects, we ensure that you not only learn theoretical concepts but also apply them to solve real problems. Our team provides support at every stage, helping you complete your projects successfully.

If you are looking to build a strong career in machine learning, explore the exciting opportunities at Takeoff Projects today!

[technology-123s-blog]

Deep Learning Projects for Students - Takeoff Projects

Deep Learning Projects are exciting and advanced applications of artificial intelligence that solve complex problems by mimicking the way humans think. At Takeoff Projects, we provide a platform for students and professionals to explore and work on innovative deep learning projects that are both educational and practical. These projects involve training neural networks to analyze large amounts of data and make intelligent decisions.

Some popular deep learning projects include image recognition, where models identify objects or faces in pictures, and natural language processing, which helps in building chatbots or translating languages. Deep learning is also used in healthcare to analyze medical images like X-rays to detect diseases, and in self-driving cars to recognize objects on the road and ensure safe navigation.

At Takeoff Projects, we guide learners through real-world projects such as creating speech recognition systems, building recommendation engines like those used by Netflix or Amazon, and designing AI models for time-series forecasting like stock price prediction. We simplify these concepts with hands-on support, making them easy to understand and implement.

We also focus on innovative areas like Generative Adversarial Networks (GANs), which can create realistic images or enhance low-resolution photos, and robotics, where deep learning enables machines to perform tasks like sorting or assembly. These projects not only build technical skills but also prepare learners for a bright future in AI and data science.

Whether you are a beginner or an advanced learner, Takeoff Projects helps you take the first step toward mastering deep learning. By working on these projects, you can gain practical experience and showcase your expertise, opening up exciting career opportunities in this rapidly growing field. Let’s take off into the world of deep learning Projects together!

[takeoffprojectsservices]

Power Quality Projects for Students at Takeoff Projects

The goal of power quality projects for students is to guarantee that there are no disruptions or breaks in the delivery of electricity to meet consumer needs. The objectives of these initiatives are to lessen power fluctuations, minimize harmonics, and increase voltage stability. Among the initiatives are the use of smart grid technologies for dynamic load management, the installation of sophisticated monitoring systems to detect problems early on, and the replacement of transformers and capacitors for increased efficiency. Research on energy storage technologies and the integration of renewable energy also helps to improve grid resilience overall. Power quality projects for students aim to improve operational efficiency, reduce downtime, and promote sustainable energy practices for a resilient and dependable electrical infrastructure by tackling these factors.

[mccormicksystems]

The Top Features that Make McCormick Bidding Software a Game-Changer for Builders

Looking for bidding or building estimating software? Accuracy and efficiency are paramount. Builders and contractors know that every detail matters when estimating costs, managing projects, and delivering successful results. That’s where McCormick Bidding Software comes into play, revolutionizing the construction industry with its cutting-edge features and capabilities. 

See More: https://briteosmatic.com/the-top-features-that-make-mccormick-bidding-software-a-game-changer-for-builders.html

[pochunts]

CHARITHRA CHANDRAN GIF PACK

— ✰ on the page linked below in the SOURCE LINK, you will find ( TWO HUNDRED AND SIXTY-FOUR ) hq gifs of CHARITHRA CHANDRAN sourced from her role as ISHA MALLIK in FIGHT OR FLIGHT (2025). charithra is 28 but was 27-28 while filming this project. she is of indian ( tamil ) descent, so please cast her accordingly. all gifs were cropped at 245x145 and were made from scratch by feifer for roleplaying purposes only. therefore, i am taking full credit for these.

gifs feature: Danny Ashok, Josh Hartnett, Hughie O'Donnell, JuJu Chan Szeto.

warnings/triggers: Airplane, aircraft things (flight/takeoff check, coffee pots/dispensers, towel, breathing masks), confined spaces (airplane bathroom), visuals of firearms (gun), dialogue/conversations about carrying firearms on an aircraft, scenes contexted around firearm going off, sharp objects (knife), knife wound (i think?), shakey footage (airplane turbulence), blood (small visuals from the other person's arm/body within the gif), scenes contexted around poisoning someone, viles of liquid poison, scenes contexted around suffocating someone, fighting, food (cookies), scenes contexted around the use of drugs, electrical machinery (chainsaw), someone dying in another's arms, smoke.

CLICK HERE FOR MORE GIF PACKS OF CHARITHRA

RULES FOR USAGE:

DO: LIKE or REBLOG if you found these helpful or have any intention of using these.

DO NOT:

add or compile into other sources ( gif hunts, gif sets).

edit or claim in any way (redistribute or resize into smaller forms - gif icons. giftangles, etc).

use to portray the faceclaim in smut rps or real-life celebrity groups.

use these gifs as imagery/visuals for smut writing.

[kale-theteaqueen]

Bumpy Takeoffs and Happy Landings

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Flying out at 7 am for a last minute work trip was already bad.

Flying out of Dulles was worse.

But to top it all off, Nesta's morning is entirely upended when the world's most obnoxious (read: gorgeous) pilot spills boiling hot coffee all over in what had to be the worst luck of all time.

Nesta was determined to forget it ever happened, to get through her week and back to her apartment where she could continue to hide away forever. But fate has other plans.

A meet-cute/hate featuring Pilot!Cassian and Diplomat!Nesta for @cassianappreciationweek 2024 Day 1: Flying

---

Tag List: @c-e-d-dreamer @podemechamardek @talkfantasytome @moodymelanist @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @doriansgf @eerievixen @sweet-pea1 @thewayshedreamed @agents-assemble @jsmelodies @aelinchocolatelover @unlikelypersonalknight1 @slipknotvol3 @stylishmuser @lady-winter-sunrise @bri-loves-sunflowers @misswonderflower @acourtofladydeath

[usafphantom2]

SR-71 Pilot explains why the Blackbird had to refuel right after takeoff (and it’s not because it leaked fuel)

KC-135Q

SR-71 Pilot explains why the Blackbird had to refuel right after takeoff (and it’s not because it leaked fuel)

The SR-71, the most advanced member of the Blackbird family that included the A-12 and YF-12, was designed by a team of Lockheed personnel led by Clarence “Kelly” Johnson, then vice president of Lockheed’s Advanced Development Company Projects, commonly known as the “Skunk Works” and now a part of Lockheed Martin Corp.

The SR-71 was designed to cruise at Mach 3.2, just over three times the speed of sound or more than 2,200 miles per hour and at altitudes up to 85,000 feet.

T-shirts Habubrats 2

CLICK HERE to see The Aviation Geek Club contributor Linda Sheffield’s T-shirt designs! Linda has a personal relationship with the SR-71 because her father Butch Sheffield flew the Blackbird from test flight in 1965 until 1973. Butch’s Granddaughter’s Lisa Burroughs and Susan Miller are graphic designers. They designed most of the merchandise that is for sale on Threadless. A percentage of the profits go to Flight Test Museum at Edwards Air Force Base. This nonprofit charity is personal to the Sheffield family because they are raising money to house SR-71, #955. This was the first Blackbird that Butch Sheffield flew on Oct. 4, 1965.

The SR-71 would be a very short-ranged aircraft were it not for air refueling, limited to around 2,000 NM. Multiple air refuelings extended the range of the aircraft to the limits of crew endurance. Many missions have exceeded 12,000 NM. Forward basing of the SR-71 and KC-135Q tankers permitted faster response, shorter range, shorter duration missions, fewer air refuelings, and greater overall efficiency.

KC-135Q crews and their aircraft were unique from the rest of the Air Force in several ways. Their aircrews in fact were the only one certified in Blackbird’s specific radio-silent rendezvous procedures, and their boom operators were the only ones qualified to refuel the SR-71.

Why did the Blackbird had to refuel right after takeoff?

The Q-model tankers had special plumbing between their fuel tanks, allowing them to transfer JP-4 and JP-7 fuel between various tanks. Their engine could burn transfer JP-4 or JP-7 fuel. If the SR-71 landed somewhere JP-7 fuel was not available, the Q-model tankers flew in with the fuel and, through the use of transfer hoses on the ground, were able to refuel the SR-71. One of the best advantages of flying the Q-model tankers is that their crews did not have to be on twenty-four-hour alert status like the rest of the SAC’s tankers’ crew members.

No story on the SR-71 would be complete without an understanding and appreciation of just how valuable the KC-135Q model tankers and their crews were to the successful and safe completion of every mission.

Actually, most SR-71’s operational sorties started off with a refueling after takeoff.

“Many people believe we refueled after takeoff because the aircraft leaked fuel so profusely that we needed to fuel up quickly,” says Col. Richard H. Graham, a former Blackbird pilot, in his book SR-71 The Complete Illustrated History of THE BLACKBIRD The World’s Highest, Fastest Plane. “We had to refuel right after takeoff for only one reason, and it wasn’t because we leaked JP-7 fuel on the ground. Yes, the plane does leak fuel, but not enough to require refueling after takeoff.

SR-71 Pilot explains why the Blackbird had to refuel right after takeoff (and it’s not because it leaked fuel)

This print is available in multiple sizes from AircraftProfilePrints.com – CLICK HERE TO GET YOURS. SR-71A Blackbird

61-7972 “Skunkworks”

SR-71 Pilot on why the Blackbird had to refuel after takeoff

“The JP-7 fuel reaches temperatures well over 300 degrees F. during Mach 3 cruise, making the fumes in each of the six fuel tanks very volatile and potentially explosive. The metal skin of the aircraft approaches 400 degrees F., adding to the volatility of the fuel inside the tanks. One of our aircraft limitations was a maximum speed of Mach 2.6 without an inert atmosphere inside the fuel tanks.

“The aircraft had three liquid nitrogen Dewar flasks containing 260 liters of liquid nitrogen, located in the nose wheel well. The only way to ensure 100 percent inert atmosphere in each fuel tank was to refuel the plane inflight completely full of JP-7, allowing ambient air in each fuel tank to vent overboard. Once full of fuel, gaseous nitrogen would now dominate each fuel tank’s empty space above as it burned off JP-7. The nitrogen gas pressurized each fuel tank to 1.5 psi above ambient pressure and inerts the space above the heated fuel to prevent autogenous ignition. This is why we refueled after takeoff. Then we could safely accelerate beyond Mach 2.6.”

“Yo-Yo”

Graham concludes:

“There was one other way of achieving tank inerting, called a “Yo-Yo,” but this was a maintenance nightmare. A few of our missions required the SR-71 to accelerate to Mach 3+ right after takeoff with a 65,000-pound fuel load. The Yo-Yo procedure had the crew chief completely refuel the plane to full tanks of 80,000 pounds of fuel. Then, with the nitrogen pressurization system working, they de-fueled 15,000 pounds of JP-7, ending up with a 65,000 pound fuel load and a plane that was capable of going immediately to Mach 3+.”

@Habubrats71 via X

[deepcreekvultures-writing]

"Tequila and Palmistry"

Spencer Reid x Drunk!Reader

Words: 4,754

Tags: Drunken Flirting, Spencer Reid Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Spencer Reid takes care of drunk reader, Spencer Reid Ranting, Mentions of Violence, Spencer Reid's hands, I Love Spencer Reid, Feelings, Idiots in Love, Drunk Reader, Early Seasons Spencer (S1/Early S2)

After a tough case where you were almost killed by the unsub, the team decides to go to the bar and unwind. While there, Spencer ends up having to keep you from going off the deep end.

==========

Watching you drink was like watching an Olympic sprinter in their prime. You were slamming shots back like they were nothing as soon as the team got to the bar. 

The last case was particularly intense for you, considering you fit the unsubs target perfectly. No one batted an eye at you nursing yourself with alcohol.

Except Spencer.

He had attempted to say something after your fourth shot, but Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered a soft “Let her have this, kid.” 

After your sixth shot of tequila, you moved on to tequila sunrises, which you went through like water. Gideon finally put his foot down after your third sunrise, instructing you to make the fourth last because you were being cut off.

Luckily for Gideon, you weren’t a mean drunk.

Spencer was surprised at how peppy you were under the influence. During cases, you kept your guard up, letting loose just a little when you were alone with Spencer, but you always kept it at arm's length.

At some point, you slid your glass into Spencer’s hand, grabbing Elle and Penelope by the wrists and pulling them to the center of the bar to dance. He glances down at the glass in confusion before looking up at Hotch and Morgan. Hotch smiles to himself, sipping on his beer, while Morgan whistles playfully.

“She trusts you with her drink, Pretty Boy. That’s an accomplishment.” 

“Actually, this bar invests in straws that are able to detect whether or not Rohypnol or any other drugs are in the drink.” Spencer responds, still keeping the glass in his grasp.

“I’m sure she’s too slammed to notice, Reid.” Derek chuckles in response.

“This is a one-time deal; next time we go out together, we have to make sure she doesn’t go off the rails like this again.” Hotch sighs, glancing over at you, dancing with Elle and Penelope, who are more focused on making sure you don’t fall. Gideon grabs his jacket, sliding it on.

“It was a hard case for her; she needs to let off some steam. Why aren’t you drinking anyway?” Morgan asks, leaning over to Spencer.

“I don’t really drink.” Spencer shrugs, flicking his finger against the smooth of the glass. His eyes trained on the straw in your cup. As much as he wanted to convince himself that you gave him your drink on purpose, it was just too unlikely for him to really dwell on it. 

Except he did dwell on it. 

His eyes slid over to you. Your hair fell over your face as you danced around, your features illuminated by the dim lighting, and your soft eyes shone as you smiled. Spencer isn’t sure how to feel about you being so drunk. 

On one hand, you were pretty much catatonic after your interaction with the unsub. You sat next to him in the jet, staring down at your dirt-covered hands, completely still for the almost 3-hour flight.

On the other hand, he knew you were only drinking to try and get the awful taste out of your mouth. The terrible twisting of your stomach that caused you to dry-heave in the jet’s lavatory for half an hour before takeoff. 

Gideon stands from his place at the end of the booth; he rounds the table and leans down to speak with Spencer. “You’re in charge of her.” 

All Spencer can do is nod, as Gideon leaves quickly after with not much more than a wave. But as you made your way back to the table, somehow finding your way between Reid and Morgan in the booth, he couldn’t help but feel relief.

He handed you the drink, and you took a small sip before turning your whole body towards him and looking him directly in the eyes. 

“Did you try it?” You asked seriously.

“No- No, I didn’t.” Spencer shakes his head, embarrassment tinting his cheeks.

“Whaat??” You pulled back, your face contorting into stern confusion. “You have to try it, now—here, here.” 

You held it out to him, your fingers delicately holding the straw for him.

Ignoring the snickers from the others, Spencer leans in and takes a small sip. The tequila burns, but it’s rounded out nicely by the sweetness of the grenadine and the soft tart flavor of the orange juice.

Clearing his throat, Spencer speaks, “Originally, tequila sunrises contained tequila, lime juice, soda water, and créme de cassis when it was initially invented at the Arizona Biltmore Hotel in the 30s or 40s.”

You stared at him as he spoke, wide-eyed with your lips slightly parted. You blinked a few times, eyebrows furrowing as you tried to follow what he was saying.

“The modern tequila sunrise was popularized in the 70s by the Rolling Stones when they were kicking off their tour at a bar in Sausalito, California.” You nodded slowly at his explanation, your lips pulling into a bright smile as you set your cup down on the table. 

He didn’t really think you understood that. But your face shone like the first burst of light at dawn, waking the morning flowers from the chill of night.

His face warms, looking away from you to glance around the bar. Morgan taps your shoulder, grabbing your attention. Using his hands to shield your ear, he whispers something to you, causing you to break out into a fit of loud giggles. Derek shushes you, laughing along.

Your hands find your face as you slump back into the booth, muffling your laughter into your palms. After laughing for a good five minutes, you drop your hands into your lap. Your face was flushed, your eyes moist with laughter-filled tears. Your lips are pulled into a bright, sloppy smile, your teeth shining against the dull light of the bar. A few strands of hair fell into your face.

Derek looked proud of himself, shooting Spencer with a knowing look. Gesturing to you, mouthing ‘go for it’.

Spencer ignores him, looking around the bar in an attempt to ignore the flushed beauty beside him. But you turn, grabbing his arm. 

“Spencer,” You shake him a bit, trying to get his attention. He was already looking at you, but you shook him anyway. “Spencer, Spencer, where’s Gideon?”

“Uhm, he left a few minutes ago.” 

“Oh, boo, how lame." You pout, your hand still firmly holding Spencer’s bicep. You turn your head, eyeing your drink. A grin creeps slowly onto your face.

“Don’t get any ideas. You’re still cut off.” Hotch interjects, noticing the way you were eyeing your glass. 

You deflate immediately, slumping into the seat, your hands falling into your lap as you pout. Spencer watches you, a little amused but ultimately concerned with your shift in mood.

After letting you stew for a minute, Spencer turns to you, clearing his throat before opening his mouth to speak. He falters, however, when he sees your face. 

Your bottom lip juts out, glistening under the light and drawing his eyes. Downcast eyes steal his attention from your lips, leading him to your upturned palms. Your pout melts into a deep frown, your inebriated brain feeding the memories of what happened just 5 hours ago.

“Uhm,” Spencer starts, leaning over to point at your hands, “have you heard of palm reading?” His voice is unsure, wavering a little as you look up at him.

You both nod and shake your head, your eyes widening a little as he pulls you out of your thoughts. Putting your hands down on the seat, you push yourself up, giving Spencer your full attention. You stare at him for a second before scrambling to show him your hands again.

“It’s also called palmistry or chiromancy, and it’s unknown where it originated exactly.” Spencer bites his lip, glancing down at your palms. “But it has ties to a lot of eastern cultures.” 

“Like where?” You ask, your voice insistent.

“Indian, Tibetan, Chinese, Nepali, Persian, Babylonian, Canaan, Sumer, and Arabian cultures have history with palm reading.” He lists, watching as you slowly tilt your head down, trying to follow his words. Your eyes never leave his face, squinting slightly as his words slip in one ear and out the other.

Deciding to just keep talking rather than waiting for you to speak, Spencer continues, “Palm reading uses the natural creases in the flesh of your palms to predict things about your life and personality.” 

Spencer hesitates before placing his left hand underneath yours, settling his palm against the back of your hands. Chewing on his bottom lip, he uses his right hand to map out your palms. His index finger hovers, making sure not to touch the lightly calloused skin.

“Are my palms-” You lean a little closer, your eyes wide as your gaze flicks between his face and your hands. “Are my palms whispering to you?”

You were whispering to him—well, more like mumbling. Spencer furrows his eyebrows, leaning back a bit.

“Are your- are they what?” He stammers, a smile threatening to pull at the corners of his lips. You giggle, letting your head fall forward and rest in your open hands. You stay like that for a second to let it out before lifting your head again.

“You’re so cute, Dr. Reid.” A heavy sigh follows that statement, along with a sloppy grin. Before Spencer has the opportunity to flounder in response, you continue, “What were we talking about?”

“Um... Palm Reading?” His slender fingers tap against the back of your hands mindlessly.

You purse your lips, squinting your eyes just a smidge before smiling again. 

“Okay, okay, keep telling me about it." You scoot a little closer, folding one of your legs under you, your knee knocking against his thigh. “Please?”

Your face was still flushed, though Spencer wasn’t sure if it was from the tequila that still lingered on your breath or from the fact that you were sitting so close to him.

“Oh, yeah- yeah, sure…” He bites at his bottom lip, looking back down at your palms. “So... the main lines used for palmistry are the life line, the heart line, the fate line, and the head line…” 

Spencer continues talking, making sure to keep his gaze cast down to your hands as he explains what people look for when reading palms. You stayed quiet, and he was almost positive that you weren’t listening; honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if you had fallen asleep. 

He maps out each line for you after thoroughly explaining what each of them meant. Spencer didn’t really believe in palmistry or astrology, but he had to admit that so far it was pretty accurate.

Especially when your life line described you as enthusiastic and courageous. 

That was one of the many things Spencer admired about you. You had no qualms about being who you wanted to be, and it gave him the confidence to do the same.

Though sometimes you had a hard time remembering that about yourself.

“…and your heart line tells us about your cardiac health, possible depression, emotional stability, and, um… and romantic perspectives.” Spencer swallows, his shoulders slightly hunched as he looks intently at your palms. You straighten up, drawing his eyes to your face. 

Your lips parted, your eyes holding excitement as you looked down at your own palms. Glancing up at him and meeting his eyes, you smile, the tip of your tongue fitting between your teeth. 

“Keep going.” You whisper, nodding at him incessantly. Spencer pauses, unable to tear away from the light shine in your eyes, illuminated by the warm lighting hanging from the rafters of the bar.

“…your- your heart line, um,” he stumbles over his words, snapping his head back down to look at the crease in the fleshy part of your palm. “Your heart line begins in between your middle and index fingers, and it’s straight and parallel to your head line.”

Spencer finally presses the pad of his finger into your palm, dragging it along the crease as he talks. He still cradles your hand lightly with his other, his thumb absentmindedly sliding against your knuckles.

“Mm, what does it mean?” You ask sloppily, your articulation faltering.

“It means that you are... caring and understanding.” He slides his finger back to where the line begins, noticing how your fingers twitch. “And that you have a good handle on your emotions.” At that, you laugh, gently bumping your head against his as you do.

“Doesn’t feel like it.” You mumble, your head partially sliding against his as you slump into him. Spencer stiffens at the contact.

“Sorry, ‘m tired,” You wiggle your fingers, attempting to draw his attention back to your hands. 

“So, like- does it say anything about who I’m gonna… marry?” 

“No- uhm, no, not who.” Spencer swallows; the weight of your head dropping onto his shoulder scrambles his thoughts. “But the marriage line is here.” He slides his finger to the small line underneath your pinky.

“It’s pretty straight, which means that you’ll have a long, happy marriage.” 

You hum in acknowledgment, looking down briefly at your palms before turning your hands over and wrapping your hands around his. Spencer looks up, making eye contact with Elle, who mouths a ‘wow’ before sipping her drink. 

His attention is drawn back to you as you drag yourself off of him haphazardly. You turn his hands, exposing his own palms as you lean down, hunching over them to get a closer look. 

There is almost no way you could even see the lines in his palms very well, considering that your head was blocking the lights. 

Lifting your head suddenly, Spencer has to pull back to avoid getting smacked in the face. 

“This line probably means that you’re suuper smart and stuff,” you say, tapping his head line with your pinky. “And this line probably says that you’re really cute, and this line probably says that you’re like… I dunno, a little silly." You alternate tapping at his different lines. You were trying—kind of. 

Spencer’s face grows hot, swallowing hard and trying to remind himself that this was just you, completely inebriated and not thinking straight.

“Silly?” He raises his eyebrows, watching your face with concern.

“Uhuh, silly. Like… like… I don’t know; you’re just silly. And gorgeous.” You look down at his hands and say, “And you have really pretty hands.”

Spencer stares at you, his mouth gaping like a fish as his eyes slide around your features. 

You blinked slowly, your hands sliding against his as you fidget with his slender fingers. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed way too loudly for the small bar. You pull yourself away from him, the force with which you do so causes you to tilt back and fall into Morgan. 

Spencer scrambles to grab your forearms, pulling you off of Morgan. “Are- are you okay?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“You don’t like it when people touch you!” You attempt to wiggle yourself out of his grip, failing despite how loose his hold was.

A deep pout rests on your lips, and you look up at him guiltily.

“No, it’s fine.” He tries to still you, embarrassed by your antics. “It’s okay; you’re fine, I don’t mind. Let's get you home, okay?”

“Huh?? No, no, I’m having so much funn” You flounder, slumping yourself into the seat in protest. You start to slide off the booth seat, your lower body disappearing under the table. 

Spencer stammers, hooking his arms around yours and attempting to keep you from slipping to the floor.

“Woah, no, come on, I’ll take you home and I can teach you how to read my palms?” He pulls on your arms, looking over at Morgan, who lends a hand by wrapping an arm around your torso and pulling you back onto the seat. Morgan snickers, but leaves Spencer to handle your state of unrest.

“I already know enough about you, gorgeous-genius-doctor-boy, but can’t you dance with me?” You whine, Spencer’s arms are still hooked around you to keep you from slipping away again.

“I- well… No- no, not here, we can dance at your apartment?” he suggests, gently pulling you out of the booth.

You let him pull you, offering little help until he forces you to stand. Staring up at him with a pouty glare, you huff, the gears turning in your head.

“Promise?” You hold out your pinky, wiggling it at him. 

He relents, hooking his pinky around yours. You smile, latching your finger around his in a tight grip.

“Okay! Bye losers!” You shout at the rest of the table, unceremoniously dragging Spencer away. He attempts to grab his bag from the booth, but your grip is too tight. 

Elle manages to toss it to him, his hands fumbling to get a good grip on it as he’s wrenched through the exit of the bar.

“Wait, slow down!” He yelps, shoulder-checking the door as you tug him down the stairs.

“Come on, pretty boy, relax!” You laugh

“Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Northbound.” You say, deepening your voice and pointing to your right.

“That’s east.” Using his free hand, Spencer spins you to face him. “We’re calling a cab.”

You scoff, letting go of his pinky finally as you flail your arms at your sides.

“No, what, no- no, no, no, I’m not getting buried again, Spencer." You whine, the weight of your words slipping off your shoulders, numbed by the tequila in your system.

Spencer frowns, his eyebrows raising slightly as he looks at you. Your loosened, drunken state could only mask your worries to some extent.

“You won’t be buried; I’m with you,” he says, placing his hands on your biceps.

“But you could get hurt... and I don’t wanna see your gorgeous face and body all... like... dead." Your articulation slips, words blending together. Tapping the tip of his nose with the side of your finger, you pout, shuffling your weight from foot to foot.

“I won’t die; I’m gonna get you home, and then you’re going to bed-“ A hand slaps over his mouth, a little harder than necessary.

“We’re dancing.” You say sternly, rubbing his mouth with your palm, when you realize that you hit him harder than intended. 

“Okay- okay, stop-stop doing that,” He grabs your wrist, pulling your hand to the side. “I’m gonna get you home, and then we’ll dance.” 

Pleased, you hum lightly, closing your eyes. “Let’s do it, honey bee.” 

Spencer ignores the churning in his stomach as he leads you along the sidewalk. Your hand slides around his body as you circle around him. Up and down his chest, around his waist, and up his spine. It was dizzying how well you were circling him despite the alcohol coursing through your system. You only stumbled once or twice, grabbing onto him each time to steady yourself.

Spencer was having a hard time keeping it together; it was already hard enough keeping his feelings to himself day to day when you acted like a normal person. Drunk you was making everything way harder. He wondered if he told you exactly how he felt if you would remember.

You weren’t acting completely blacked out drunk, and Spencer had never seen you like this before. He was just glad you were a nice drunk. And mildly manageable.

He was very glad that your apartment was on the ground floor; he didn’t have to worry about getting you up stairs. You stood next to Spencer, your right hand against the white door, as you fumbled with your keys in your left. Pouting down at the object, you let out an annoyed huff, tilting your head to the side and squinting at the ring of keys.

“Who needs this many keys?” You grumbled, letting your fingers go slack as Spencer takes the keys from you. 

“You, apparently.” Spencer smiles, finding your door key and unlocking the door. He ushers you inside, his hand finding its way to rest on your back, pretty much pushing you through the doorway.

Kicking your shoes off, you turn to Spencer “Shoes off, Cowboy, we can’t have my carpeting get all grody.” 

Spencer nods, smiling at the nickname but ultimately ignoring it. He takes off his shoes, setting his bag next to them, before straightening up and beelining to your kitchen. Opening each cabinet, he finally finds your cups. You stumble your way to lean on the counter next to him, pursing your lips at him.

“What’re you doing?” You ask, glaring at the cup in his hand as he fills it with water.

“Drink this,” Spencer holds it out to you. You just stare at it, pressing your lips into a thin line. “Please?” He sighs, pouting just a little. Your face lights up at his plea, your mouth falling open and your face flushing red.

"Spencer, you can’t do that, not fair.” You snatch the cup from him, chugging the water out of spite. Spencer watches you, his eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed together in confusion. 

Slamming the cup onto the counter, you hold up your arms, “Okay! Dance time, come here!”

Spencer is dragged back into the living room, your hands firmly grasping his wrists as you walk backwards. He watches your path for you, maneuvering you gently to avoid your coffee table. 

Dropping his arms, you bow sloppily with a giggle, “May I have this dance?”

He chuckles, offering an awkward bow in response as he fumbles over his words, “Yeah- sure… okay.” 

You laugh, sliding your hands down his forearms, your fingers brushing against the center of his palms. Curling your fingers around his, you lift his hands, tugging him closer.

He swallows the lump in his throat as his chest presses into yours. Spencer chews on his bottom lip as you settle his hands on your waist. You smelled like tequila, but the scent of your shampoo still lingered in close proximity. You smelled good—drunk, but good.

“No music?” He asks, clearing his throat as your arms wrap around his shoulders. 

“Nah, my head hurts." You shake your head, guiding him in a small sway. Spencer was a little worried that you were going to have him actually dance, but he was happy to sway along with you. 

Your apartment was dark, only lit by the weirdly bright fluorescent light from your kitchen. You giggled quietly to yourself as you swayed, finding it a little difficult to get him to move with you. His heart rate calms slowly as you both sway in silence. You had closed your eyes, threading your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, tracing small circles into his skin. It was nice.

The heat of your body against his fills him with warmth, and he can’t help but look away. His eyes training on the light switch a few feet away as he wills his face to not get any redder. Your touch simmered against him, the low burning embers of his feelings threatening to ignite in the dark space of your living room. 

But you were drunk, and there was very little he could do to rationalize your actions beyond that. If you weren’t completely inebriated, Spencer might consider the fact that you might like him too. 

“Spencer,” you call out to him softly, goading him into meeting your eyes again. He couldn’t help but notice the gravity added to your previously weightless tone.

“Yeah?” He whispers his reply, his eyes returning to your face. The swaying continues, offering a loosely followed rhythm to the conversation.

“How did you feel?” You mumble back, letting your head fall back slightly. You keep your eyes on his face, scanning his expression.

“How did... what feel?” 

“Watching me crawl out.” You let out a small huff, as if he were supposed to read your mind, “Like, how did it feel for you?” Spencer freezes, his hands tightening their grip on your waist.

It felt awful.

Watching you, his headstrong, kind, confident, and loving friend, crawl your way out of a freshly packed grave. Hands bound, tears soaking mud to your cheeks, clothing torn, a hateful fire in your eyes.

It felt awful.

Watching you grapple with the unsub, using your bindings as leverage to choke the man out before crumbling to the ground in tears.

It felt awful.

Watching you bottle it up, riding to the hospital in silence, only letting the team touch you despite the insistence of the doctors. 

It felt awful.

Washing off your dirt-covered hands in the jet with a small rag he had found, soaked in the cold water from the lavatory sink. 

It felt awful.

But Spencer couldn’t claim that awful feeling, knowing that you must feel so much worse. You fought and fought for those two days you were held captive, feeding into the unsubs delusion to keep yourself alive.

You were the one who was thrown into a six-foot-deep hole and buried alive.

He’s not sure how to answer your question, but you watch him patiently, your fingers gently sliding down his neck. 

“I… I don’t know, I was- I was scared, worried..." He whispers, his stomach churning with the thought that he shouldn’t burden you with the way he was feeling. 

“You were scared…” Mumbling, you tilt your head to the side, your lips pursing and twisting to the side. “Is it bad… that you being scared for me, makes it hurt less?” Your articulation is off, and your words are almost lost to him. Inhaling sharply, Spencer leans forward a bit, his arms circling around your back and flattening against your shirt. 

“No, no, it’s not bad... How did it feel for you?” He asks carefully, watching your face as it contorts in ten different ways. You sigh heavily, your arms loosely resting on his shoulders.

“It’s the worst thing... you fight and you fight, you do what you can to survive... and then you get thrown in a hole and smothered in the earth.” You pout, tilting your head to the side, fiddling with your fingers behind his head.

Spencer bites his lower lip, his eyebrows raising in concern. He watches your face, your eyes glossing over, staring into the pattern on his tie. 

“Spencer… I dunno what to do with myself…” You murmur, pulling yourself closer and resting your forehead on his shoulder.

Tilting his head, his cheek presses into your hair. His hands press into your shoulder blades, giving you an awkward squeeze. 

“…you don’t have to know; we can just take it one step at a time.” He speaks gently, letting his hand circle over your shoulder blade.

“Ugh… your mouth words are so gorgeous…” You mumble.

Spencer isn’t really sure what you mean, but he decides to take it at face value. “Thanks?” 

You lift your head, a frown etched on your lips. As you look up at Spencer, the frown dissolves into a small smile. The bright lighting coming from your kitchen illuminates the side of your face in stark contrast to the rest of the dark room. 

“You’re so gorgeous in your face too.” You slide your hands around to bracket his face, squishing it a little between your palms. Spencer’s face grows hot under the feeling of your hands, his eyes widening a bit.

“If you ever, like- I dunno, do you ever think- like, think about kissing me? Cause… if you do, you should kiss me.” Spencer goes to respond, but you slap your hand over his mouth again, rubbing his mouth soothingly afterwards.

“When I’m sober! When I’m sober so I can remember and stuff…” You take your hand off his mouth, sliding the tip of your finger down the bridge of his nose. 

“Oh- uhm… yeah okay." He nods, biting his lip anxiously. His eyes flutter close at your touch, the heat of his emotions burning at the apex of his cheekbones.

You smiled sloppily up at him, content with the plan you set in place, guiding him into swaying with you again. Your finger traces his features loosely, your muscles relaxing into his touch as you start to come down from your drunken high. Tiredness crawls its way up your spine, settling into your eyelids, and you find yourself having a hard time holding them open. 

“When I wake up...” You start, letting your eyes fall closed, “…when I wake up, don’t- don’t let me push you away.” 

Spencer smiles at that, laughing affectionately at your words.

“Okay.”

[twewytravelzine]

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[0vergrownruins]

Coward, Mobei Jun seethes internally, trying to catch Shang Qinghua’s furiously darting gaze, traitor, deserter. Always looking for a way out, always a hair’s breadth away from flight. Her loyalty - a trait that she expounds upon at great length in her quivering little voice - so easily cast aside to save her own skin.

Rating: E Ship: Mobei Jun/Shang Qinghua Tags: Dead Dove, Noncon, Genderbent, Fisting, Paranoia, Pred/Prey, Breeding Kink

Prompt 1375 with da toxic yuri for _jingerhed in the SV Gotcha for Gaza!

“Lesbians of any flavor completely freeform. Go fucking nuts, make it as sfw or nsfw or dead-dovey that you’d like. No specific characters/ships, genderbend by any means necessary or use canon women so long as they’re lesbians”

[soapoet]

W.I.T.C.H. pick-a-card reading

Hay Lin; next big change

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: 7 rings by Ariana Grande

ready for takeoff? well, buckle up, buttercup! you may have experienced delays in relation to your passion projects, studies, work, or side hussles, but things will be picking up speed soon. the more thought, intent, effort, planning, or work that you have put into things even during a stalemate, the greater the speeds you'll be reaching once things finally get going. you might experience this is as an easy breezy walk in the park or a roller-coaster ride, all depending on how much faith you've poured into this. you may hear back from that job or school with positive news, or have a successful launch to a passion project. there could be a raise or a promotion of sorts in store, and you seem to find yourself at the right place at the right time a lot. you feel luckier than ever before and things just work out in your favour. this is a huge relief considering you've had to work twice as hard as everyone else or deal with more setbacks and variables.

you'll be experiencing a very different timeline overall, especially with all the nuisances and heaches that just always found their way to you to take away your focus and drain your energy. your schedule may get a little crazy and hours start to feel like the most valuable currency. this effect is likely to be long-lasting and keep you busy for quite a while. do remember to afford yourself some celebratory rest, too, you've certaintly earned it. but all in all it seems like you'll be enjoying the change of pace and the various doors that finally open up for you, and you've been so ready to explore new opportunities and uncharted territories for so long that it's no surprise you'll want to do and see it all and be on the go.

02.

Shufflemancy: Lavender haze by Taylor Swift

whether or not you have travels planned, be it near or far, there is a distinct element of newness, adventure and exploration coming in for you. something may have had you feeling stuck in the daily grind and routines and had you bored out of your mind. you're about to gain some freedom and independence, almost as if shackles come undone and you get to run wild and free. you'll be meeting new and interesting people, some of whom quickly turn from strangers to lifelong companions and partners in crime. soul family members are headed in your direction and you'll look back to this time later in life and joke about all the funny little synchronicities and how within a couple weeks you could've sworn you've known each other your whole lives.

besides platonic connections, you may find yourself in the spotlight attracting many admirers, especially if you've felt like the sea has been emptied of all the fish. some of these are just fun and flirty encounters that serve mainly to put a pep in your step and make you hold your head up high. there may be drama in store, but nothing too messy. in fact, you may actually enjoy the telanovela of it all. one or two of these will stand out to you, and you might find yourself weighing pros and cons between two people you would seriously consider for something more. so long as you let things happen to you rather than trying to force anything or play private detective, you'll be sure to make the right decision as events and information unfold themselves to you naturally. you may even be surprised by how things turn out when you don't let bias or expectations tip the scales one way or the other and simply observe how the tables turn all on their own.

03.

Shufflemancy: Sleep alone by Two Door Cinema Club

you may sigh in relief as you finally make it out of a stressful situation. whilst everyone else seem to be making plans, you're clearing out your calendar. you may want or truly need to recharge, reconnect with yourself and get some peace and quiet. the world is looking a little brighter and it's easier to breathe again. when was the last time you had the chance to just sit and pay attention to your own thoughts and feelings?you may feel like you've been sleepwalking, living life for a while fast asleep and going about your days on autopilot. now you're awake again, and it's not to go wild and crazy but to reflect on yourself and how you feel. you may be doing quite a bit of soul searching at this time and asking yourself a lot of important questions. and not just asking, but really pondering and seeking answers. who are you? what do you want? what do you need? this journey of self discovery will make you feel so at peace and you'll find yourself unfazed by things that previously would have cost you your peace of mind and good night's rest. turbulent emotions calm down and the pendulum swing slows. you find the grey between black and white, rise above to see the big picture, and make a home in the in-between.

some people may try to rile you up, and others can be disappointed by, or even judgemental of, your newfound calmness. when you no longer show up to fight wars that aren't yours and decide to do what feels right to you, some will take that as betrayal, even when your values still align with theirs. real ones will see that you're achieving more good through love instead of hate and commend you for your new approach and how much it let's you grow. you may be taking a step back to connect with hobbies you've had to drop previously. through working on your natural talents and honing your skills you may find yourself collaborating on a project regarding something important to you. and it doesn't feel forced or like a burden when it's on your own accord for once. allow yourself to enjoy your own company and honour your feelings and interests. even if your change in course ruffles some feathers at first, you will gain a lot of respect and admiration for choosing your own path and staying true to yourself.

[technology-123s-blog]

Electric Vehicle (EV) Projects for Students - Takeoff Projects

Electric Vehicles (EVs) are the future of transportation. They run on electricity instead of petrol or diesel, which helps reduce air pollution and saves fuel costs. EVs are eco-friendly, quiet, and cost-effective in the long run. Many companies and students are now working on Electric Vehicle projects to understand how they work and how to improve them.

At Takeoff Projects, we help students and professionals build real-time EV projects. Our projects include building mini electric cars, smart charging systems, battery monitoring, and energy-saving designs. We focus on both hardware and software parts of EVs. Our team explains every topic in a simple way so that even beginners can understand. We also support you with step-by-step guidance, project kits, and final reports.

Electric Vehicle projects help students learn about motors, batteries, controllers, sensors, and charging systems. These skills are useful for jobs in the EV industry, which is growing fast in India and across the world. With the help of Takeoff Projects, students can build working models and gain confidence in their engineering knowledge.

[harpersdragons]

New Fic!

Theft in the Family...By Jason Todd

Talia tasks Jason with taking Damian to his father, and a few things change

Primary Tags: jason and damian met in the league, mainly fluff

I've written through half of chapter 4, i'm expecting 5-6 chapters

Chapter 1 under the cut:

word count: 1327

Jason’s life changed (for the third—fourth? Fifth? Fuck Jason’s lost count—time) the day Talia burst into his room in the league headquarters.

Jason snaps to attention, drawing the knife from under his pillow.

Talia may be like a mother to him, and he may love her little boy more than anything, but this is still the league. If you’re not hypervigilant, you’re dead. Threats are everywhere, even where you don’t expect them.

“The clown is dead.” She announces.

Jason relaxes, then tenses up again once the words register.

“You’re not kidding.”

“No. I have personally ensured it.”

“What…what about the plan?”

“It has been changed. You will still go to Gotham, but you must take Damian with you.”

“What.” He didn’t mind Damian coming with him, but taking him from Ra’s was declaring war on the league.

“I need you to deliver him to his father. It is not safe for him here.”

When Jason agrees, she hands over a letter.

“Give this to my Beloved. Come, you leave now.”

“I’m—I’m not packed.” He didn’t want to see Bruce, maybe he could keep Damian for himself?

As soon as the thought pops in his head, he dismisses it. He wouldn’t be able to give Damian a fulfilling life, he’s barely 17 for fuck’s sake. (He thinks, anyway, the whole being dead thing makes knowing his age difficult).

“You will find everything you need on the plane.”

They weave through the labyrinth of corridors, eventually reaching the plane Talia’s arranged.

Damian is already there, sitting primly in one of the chairs in the cargo hold.

Talia exchanges a tearful goodbye (on Damian’s side, Talia is as immovable as ever) with her 6 year old, and Jason readies for takeoff.

When they arrive in Gotham, Jason lands at a private airstrip just outside of Gotham. Bruce would probably find out about it, since he seems to know fuckin’ everything, but that’s really not Jason’s problem right now. Talia had provided a small car, so he packs Damian into the backseat and drove off towards Bristol.

“Alright, Princeling, the rules are different here. Your father has two other kids, and you need to get along with them. No killing, no maiming, no trying to assert yourself as the rightful heir.”

“But I am the rightful heir, am I not?”

It still shocked him how formal Damian was. No matter how many times he heard it, hearing a six year old talk like he’s an old monarch or some shit is something you never get used to.

“It doesn’t work like that here. Bruce…Bruce loves his children equally,” Jason may not believe it—the Old Man has favorites, and you can never convince him otherwise—but Damian needs to. Bruce needs to accept Damian, and that won’t happen if the kid is trying to kill his siblings. “No killing and no maiming are the main rules, but make sure you listen to whatever Bruce and Alfred say, alrigh’?”

“Ok, Akhi.” Damian’s voice is sleepy, and Jason can practically hear him drifting off.

He smiles softly, having Damian around helped tremendously with getting the Pit Rage under control, and he’s sure that’s what Talia’s plan was. The rage is useful for some things, but if she wanted to get Damian out of Nanda Parbat for his safety, she had to make sure he wouldn’t be overcome with pit rage and kill the kid.

The drive passes pretty quickly, though he does catch a few glimpses of Bats on rooftops on his way to the manor. He makes sure they haven’t followed him, and then parks in the woods about a mile from the manor.

“C’mon, Habibi.” He grabs Damian out of the backseat and settles him on his hip.

“I can walk, I am not a child!” His voice is still sleepy, but the exclamation is still there.

Jason couldn’t help but snort.

“Actually, by definition, you are a child. I’m not making you walk a mile, I can carry you.”

“I can walk, Todd!”

“Quiet, Habibi. You’re not walking.”

“Tt.” Damian huffs but settles down.

The walk passes quickly, if you ignore Damian’s annoyed grumbling, and then they’re standing before the gates of the manor.

Well, kind of.

They’re standing off to the side and in one of the camera blind spots.

Jason takes a second to analyze the fence line, and finds a shorter tree they could climb and hop over.

Hopefully Bruce didn’t drastically change the security measures on the grounds.

He carries Damian over to the tree and prompts him to grab the lowest branch. Once he is safely sitting in the tree, Jason climbs up after him.

”Can you jump over the fence and land safely?”

Damian tosses a scathing glare (well…as scathing as a six year old can be) at Jason and prepares to jump.

”That wasn’t an answer, and I really need one. The ‘safely’ was the most important part of that.”

”Tt.” Damian throws himself off the branch, flipping in the air and lands softly on the ground.

”You’re gonna get along so great with Golden Boy…” Jason mutters before following. He doesn’t flip, but he does manage to land almost as softly as Damian. He eyes the yard for a few seconds, trying to spot the security triggers.

He scoops Damian up again and picks his way across the yard, heading for the Manor.

He stops a little ways away, within view of the driveway and front door. “Ok, I’ll stay here until you’re inside.”

Damian furrows his brow and turns his inquisitive gaze on Jason. “You are not coming with me?”

”This isn’t my home anymore, Princeling.” He smiles sadly, “Your father won’t want me around, this is somewhere you have to go alone.”

”I do not want to live there without you! Why can’t I stay with you?”

”You need to stay with your father. He can keep you safe.” Jason crouches to be eye level with him, and runs a hand through Damian’s soft hair. “I will always come if you call, Habibi. I promise you.” He tugs two letters out of his jacket, one for Bruce and one for Alfred.

He wrote the one for Alfred specifically. Damian needs to know how to contact Jason, and therefore someone in the family will too.

“Give these to Alfred Pennyworth when he opens the door.” He hands them to Damian, “Go on now.”

”No! You can’t leave me.”

”Damian.”

”Why do you have to leave me?” Damian’s eyes started watering.

”I don’t belong here, ok? I can’t stay.”

Damian huffs and glares at him, tears still leaking out of his eyes.

“I’m sorry, but you need to go.” Jason pulls him in for a quick hug. “I love you, Habibi. If you need me, tell Alfred, alrigh’? He’ll be able to contact me.”

Damian doesn’t respond, just buries his face in Jason’s chest, in an uncharacteristic show of affection.

Eventually, Damian pulls away and wipes his eyes. “I do not want you to go, Akhi.”

If Jason stays any longer he just might stay, damn Damian’s convincing.

“I can’t, Dami. Bruce doesn’t want me!”

”How do you know?”

I’m not your father. I don’t have to deal with your teenage rebellion.

I’m not your father

I’m not your father

”Because he fuckin’ told me so, kid.”

”Tt.”

”Dami…” Jason sighs, “I’ll visit, how ‘bout that? I’m sure we can figure it out.”

”That is acceptable, I suppose,” Damian’s tone is sullen, and he refuses to meet Jason’s eyes.

”Good. Now go on, the bats will probably be back from patrol soon.”

Damian darts in for another quick hug, then makes his way towards the door.

Jason watches as he knocks, then a few seconds later Alfred opens the door. Damian hands over the letters and is ushered inside.

Time for Jason to head out, then.

“Bye, Habibi.” He murmurs, then leaves the way he came.

[mccormicksystems]

How Takeoff Software Enhances Productivity in Construction Estimating

Construction estimating plays a pivotal role in the success of any construction project. Accurate cost estimation not only ensures profitability but also contributes to timely project completion. Traditionally, construction estimating was a time-consuming and labor-intensive process. However, with the advent of advanced technology, takeoff software for construction estimating has revolutionized the industry.

See More: https://uwatchfreenews.com/how-takeoff-software-enhances-productivity-in-construction-estimating/

[blue-boulevard]

“Bucks?”

Tears were clouding her vision and so she rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes before being able to focus them on Nancy. She was looking at the state of Robin, hovering helplessly next to her. God, what was her life?!

“What the hell happened?”

“I- I can’t find my jack-” Robin’s voice broke with a pitiful sob.

“Your jacket? Are you leaving?” Nancy prodded, worried brow creasing.

“Just, I need to get out of here,” Robin wiped her wet cupid’s bow on her thumb. “Can you help with that?”

Without further ado, Nancy opened a closet door and picked out two leather jackets, neither of which looked hers judged by the size, but at the same time they seemed to be exactly what she was looking for. She threw them over her one arm and the other she used to pull Robin out the front door with her. Through a throng of incoming guests, they ran to the lift and put on the huge biker jackets, neither uttering a word. It was suddenly so quiet after all the ruckus.

They went all the way down to the dimly lit basement parking and there Nancy beelined toward a highly polished, sleek motorcycle. It was Eddie’s, everybody knew that. From her (Eddie’s) jacket pocket, Nancy fished out keyes that Robin assumed were a perfect match for the bike.

“Are we committing a felony right now?” Robin’s tear-streaked face scrunched up in question.

“I wish,” An amused smile twitched Nancy’s thin lips. “But this is all approved by the owner.”

That didn’t do much to ease Robin’s nerves. “We shouldn’t- I’m not getting up on that thing.”

Nancy tugged on her wrist encouragingly, dragging her over to the bike. “C’mon, you know you want to.”

She was correct. It was a magnificent ride and there was something thrilling about the unsafety of it all. Part of the appeal, and whatnot. Also, Robin did love chasing the high.

“But we shouldn’t.”

“You wanted to get out. This is your ticket.”

“Are you drunk?” Robin asked, trailing her finger against the shiny black frame.

Nancy threw a leg over the motorcycle to straddle the leather seat, rolling her eyes while she did it. “I’m not planning to kill you, you know.”

The other corner of Robin’s mouth tugged slightly upwards. “That wasn’t an answer.”

Nancy sighed, reaching out her hand for Robin to take. “Do you trust me?”

Robin hesitated, eyeing Nancy carefully. She looked fucking godly on the bike, face fixed with determination and torso covered in black leather. ‘Nobody Robin couldn’t handle’— as if! She was in deep shit.

With an unbelieving laugh, she accepted the offered hand and climbed onto the motorcycle. She pressed up against Nancy, arms wrapping tightly around her waist and holding on for dear life. Holding down on the clutch switch, Nancy started the bike and Robin buried her nose in the older girl’s neck at the rev of the engine. Her heart hammered against Nancy’s back, impatient for the takeoff.

Between one breath and another, the garage door opened and they kicked off.

shameless self promo while we’re at it… oops

a snippet from Chapter Three of my SKAM inspired platonic stobin + ronance + steddie university AU

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