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#YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST AMERICA
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"Lestat would get woken up by the macarena" "No he'd get waken up by dubstep" "No he'd get waken up by Call Me Maybe" You fool's. You absolute fools. Lestat is buried/out in the dump of New Orleans, a city that's 60 percent black. He's getting woken up by Back That Azz Up by Juvenile
#go listen to back that azz up if you havent heard it its such a banger#also how have you not heard it (i know how but still)#like we can speculate on lestat and pop music but hes a musician living in NOLA with a black partner#lestat explicitly told louis he was a chocolate chaser and you think ms. jepsen gon get him out the ground get real#he hears those first strings and “cash money records taking over for the 99 and the 2000” and shot up out that coffin like superman#like i think people speculating about what wakes him up is so interesting cus i think it becomes contextless like#hes in new orleans. the blackest city in america where he used to play black music with black artists what is the white girl gon do?#and i think the rush to say lestat would surround himself with white music in this explicitly black space comes both from ms rice's love of#whiteness. both ontologically and physically. i think it also speaks to how white the fandom is#plus the thing that woke lestat up in the 80s was how innovative the electric guitar sounded (which if he wanted innovative he shouldve-#been woken up by johnnie guitar watson but thats neither here nor there#back that azz up is an extremely innovative and iconic song from new orleans like thats what lestat “i told my black partner i was chocolat#chasing before i tried to wife him“ de lioncourt#interview with the vampire#iwtv#amc iwtv#lestat de lioncourt#iwtv 2022#like hes getting woken up by three six mafia or project pat#he need something with some bass rattling the windows
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samuraisharkie · 11 months
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If you’re putting off loud ass firework tonight in the suburbs around other houses, let it be known I hate you. nearly kills my dog every year.
#first day of disability month is flooded with panic inducing noise. fuck America#could you losers drive out to open country that’s flat to let out fucking industrial level fireworks.#I don’t mean the small driveway ones or even just one or two smaller ones#I mean the ones that fucking send a shockwave through the whole house like a bomb is dropping.#nothing BUT those it sounds like a war zone out here#I hope you people set ur house on fire#killing birds bats and bugs and more#y’all aren’t even celebrating veterans like you think you are. every vet I’ve ever talked to or heard of HATES it.#putting people in danger to blow out ur eardrums setting off massive fireworks at close range.#y’all are fucking annoying#I wish there was like. etiquette for fireworks this time of year.#where you could put a sign out like ‘this neighborhood as a very anxious senior dog’ or ‘this house is sensitive to loud noises’#’this house as someone w PTSD’ etc. but no everyone is supposed to get over it and shut the fuck up#and if we don’t like it we’re joyless funkillers#and if the sign is out then you have to find somewhere else away from that house to set off your fireworks.#and if you can’t find a spot without signs then you fucking get over it and have ur burger without ear shattering noise#or you know. go watch PROFESSIONALS set off fireworks instead of risking yourselves your neighbors and everything around you#I’m sorry if ur 4th of July is ruined bc you could set off industrial professional level fireworks then you genuinely need psychiatric help#if you set off a few. this isn’t about you. if you’re putting on a fucking show stopping finale this in fact is#every Fourth of July is a borderline extinction event for wildlife too. animals can die just from the sound.#they DO die. there’s a massive amount of dead animals found every year after nationwide firework events like this#y’all are killing the wildlife and then scratching ur dumbass heads going ‘huh I wonder where the fireflies went’#you know what’s prettier than polluting the air with pyrotechnics? fireflies! where are they? you killed them!#i LIKE fireworks too. I just don’t like them in my neighborhood by my novice neighbors surrounding me on all sides.#not every single house needs to set off fireworks. fucking stop it
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I would say that the United States, as of right now, has three main food groups (aside from junk food) and those are, Italian, Mexican, and Chinese. All of which have been Americanized here to some extent but differently in different parts of the country. I find this very funny because I have heard people from Italy be indignant about what we’ve done with the stuff (and about good restaurants too!) like, sorry if you guys weren’t creative, mixing things up a bit is great. “What about (regionally popular food)?!” I know we all have those, I haven’t heard of bitches in the south eating lefse, but that’s not my point! What was my point actually? I think I was going to say that, even if we bastardize stuff a lot, I’m super glad we have, as a country, agreed that more seasoning is good. Because if this place had been like “fuck immigrant food forever, we are eating British style” I think I would die.
This country has historically treated immigrants like shit, but we do tend to cave eventually and go like “actually,
your food is really good” a kind of shallow prize I guess, but I’m glad we actually start doing it eventually because I WILL mock British food and I WILL be sad that the only good family recipes my family has from before immigrating are all desserts. Don’t get me wrong, I love sweets, but I’m pretty sure there is a reason we stopped making other stuff
Wait, I re-read this today and realized I sound like my family is British. We are not. What even are British desserts? I bet they don’t have enough cardamom. Although lefse doesn’t have cardamom and i like a lot of things without it, my point is that their holiday and special event foods probably don’t have enough! Which wouldn’t surprise me tbh because apparently the only place that went crazy for the stuff outside of where it originated seems to have been Scandinavia for some reason. At least some maps I looked at seemed to suggest it. Which rocked me to my core
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hoodhinata · 2 years
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next big conservative talking point;
slavery: a true tragedy or a liberal hoax? 🤔🤔🤔
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batboyblog · 5 months
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Copy Right and Public Domain in 2024
Happy 2024 all! its also Public Domain Day! a magical holiday here in America where things enter the public domain. Works published in the year 1928 (or 95 years ago!) have entered the public domain, which means they belong to us, all of us, the public!
Mickey's Back!
Yes! I'm sure you've heard, but Mickey Mouse (and Minnie Mouse too) is entering the Public Domain today. This has been news for a few years and indeed Disney's lobbying in the late 1990s is why our copy right term is SO long. So what exactly is now public domain?
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Most people know about Mickey's first appearance Steamboat Willie, but a second short film, Plane Crazy was also released in 1928 so will also be public domain. So what's public? well these two films first of all, you're allowed to play them, upload them to YouTube or whatever without paying Disney. In theory you'll be allowed to cut and sample them, have them playing in the background of your movie etc. Likewise in theory the image of Mickey and Minnie as they appear (thats important) in these films will be free to use as well as Mickey's character as he appears in these works will be free to use. Now Mickey's later and more famous appearance
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will still be protected. Famously the Conan Doyle Estate claimed that Sherlock Holmes couldn't be nice, smile, or not hate women in works because they still held the copyright on the short stories where he first did those things even though 90% of Sherlock Holmes stories were public domain. It's very likely Disney will assert similar claims over Mickey, claiming much of his personality first appeared in works still copyrighted.
Finally there's copyright vs trademark. Copyright is total ownership of a piece of media and all the ideas that appear in it, copyright has a limited set term and expires. Trademark is more limited and only applies to things used to market and sell a product. You can have a Coke branded vending machine in your movie if you want, but it couldn't appear anywhere in the trailer for your movie as thats you marketing your movie.
Where trademark ends and copyright begins and how trademarked something in the public domain is allowed to be are all unsettled areas of law and clearly Disney in the last few years as been aggressively pushing its trademark not just to Mickey in general but Steamboat Willie Mickey in particular
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Ultimately the legal rights and wrongs of this might not matter so much since few people have the money and legal resources of the Walt Disney corporation so they might manage to maintain a de facto copyright on Mickey through legal intimidation, but maybe not?
And Tigger Too!
All the talk about Mickey Mouse and Steamboat Willie has sadly overshadowed other MAJOR things entering the public domain today. Most people are aware Winnie the Pooh entered the public domain in 2022, but they might not realize his beloved friend Tigger didn't. Thats because Tigger didn't appear till A. A. Milne's second (and last) book of Pooh short stories, The House at Pooh Corner in 1928.
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Much like Mickey Mouse only what appears in The House at Pooh Corner is public domain so the orange bouncy boy from the 1960s Disney cartoon is still on lock down. But the A. A. Milne original as illustrated by E. H. Shepard is free for you to use in fiction or art. His friend Winnie the Pooh has made a number of appearances since being freed, most notably in a horror movie, but also a Mint Mobile commercial so maybe Tigger too will have a lot of luck in the public domain.
Other works:
Peter Pan; or the Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up
Peter Pan is a strange case, even though the play was first mounted in 1904, and the novelization (Peter and Wendy) was published in 1911, The script for the play was not published till 1928 (confusing!) meaning while the novel as been public domain for years the play (which came first) hasn't been, but now it is and people are welcome to mount productions of it.
Millions of Cats
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The oldest picture book still in print, did you own a copy growing up? (I did)
Lady Chatterley's Lover
The iconic porn novel that was at the center of a number of groundbreaking obscenity cases in the 1960s and helped establish your right to free speech.
All Quiet on the Western Front and The Threepenny Opera in their original German (but you can translate them if you want), The Mystery of the Blue Train by Agatha Christie, and Orlando by Virginia Woolf will also be joining us in the public domain along with any and all plays, novels, and books published in 1928
for Films we have The Man Who Laughs who's iconic image inspired the Joker
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Charlie Chaplin's The Circus, Buster Keaton's The Cameraman, Should Married Men Go Home? the first Laurel and Hardy movie, Lights of New York the first "all talking" movie, The Passion of Joan of Arc, The Wind, as well as The Last Command and Street Angel the first films to win Oscars for Best Actor and Best Actress respectively will all be entering public domain
For Musical Compositions (more on that in a moment) we've got
Mack the Knife by Bertolt Brecht, Let’s Do It (Let’s Fall in Love) by Cole Porter, Sonny Boy by George Gard DeSylva, Lew Brown & Ray Henderson, Empty Bed Blues by J. C. Johnson, and Makin’ Whoopee! by Gus Khan are some of the notables but any piece of music published in 1928 is covered
Any art work published in 1928, which might include works by Frida Kahlo, Georgia O'Keeffe, Alexej von Jawlensky, Edward Hopper, and André Kertész will enter the public domain, we are sure those that M. C. Escher's Tower of Babel will be in the public domain
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Swan Song, Public Domain and recorded music
While most things are covered by the Copyright Act of 1976 as amended by the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, none of the copyright acts covered recordings you see when American copyright law was first written recordings did not exist and so through its many amendings no one fixed this problem, movies were treated like plays and artwork, but recorded sound wasn't covered by any federal law. So all sound recordings from before 1972 were governed by a confusing mess of state level laws making it basically impossible to say what was public and what was under copyright. In 2017 Congress managed to do something right and passed the Music Modernization Act. Under the act all recordings from 1922 and before would enter the public domain in 2022. After taking a break for 2023, all sound recordings made in 1923 have entered the public domain today on January 1st 2024, these include.
Charleston by James P. Johnson
Yes! We Have No Bananas (recorded by a lot artists that year)
Who’s Sorry Now by Lewis James
Down Hearted Blues by Bessie Smith
Lawdy, Lawdy Blues by Ida Cox
Southern Blues and Moonshine Blues by Ma Rainey
That American Boy of Mine and Parade of the Wooden Soldiers by Paul Whiteman and his Orchestra
Dipper Mouth Blues and Froggie More by King Oliver’s Creole Jazz Band, featuring Louis Armstrong
Bambalina by Ray Miller Orchestra
Swingin’ Down the Lane by Isham Jones Orchestra
Enjoy your public domain works!
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yokelfelonking · 9 months
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Post 9/11 Trivia
Most folks on this site were either children on September 11, 2001, or weren’t even born yet.  But America went crazy for about a year afterwards.  Here’s some highlights that I remember that might not be in your history books:
There was national discussion on whether or not Halloween should be canceled because…fuck if I know why.  After planes crashed into buildings in NYC it follows that 6-year-olds in Iowa shouldn’t be allowed to dress up like Batman and ask their neighbors for candy, I guess.  (Halloween wasn’t canceled, by the way.)
On a similar note, people asked if comedy - any sort of comedy - was appropriate anymore, ever.
People sold shitty parachutes to suckers “in case your building gets attacked and you have to jump out the window.” There were honest-to-God news reports warning people not to jump out of the window with shitty mail-order parachutes because they wouldn't work.
As a follow-up to the attacks, someone mailed anthrax to some prominent politicians and news anchors - you know, famous people - along with some badly-written notes about “you cannot stop us, death to America, Allah is good” and after that every time some random dumbass found a package in the mail they didn’t recognize they thought that the terrorists were targeting them, too.
Everyone was similarly convinced that their town was going to be the next target, even if they were a little town in the middle of nowhere. "Our town of Bumblefuck, South Dakota (population 690) has the largest styrofoam pig statue west of the Mississippi! Terrorists might fly planes into that too! It's a prime target!"
People started taping up their windows and trying to make their houses or apartments airtight out of fear of chemical and biological attacks. There were news reports warning people that turning your house into an airtight box was a bad idea because, y'know, you need air to breathe.
"[X] supports terrorism!" and “if we do [X], the terrorists win!” were used as arguments for everything.  "Some rich Arab you never heard of donated to his organization that backs Hamas which backs al-Queda, and also owns stock in a holding company that has partial ownership of the Pringles company, so if you eat Pringles you're supporting terrorism!" "The terrorists want to tear down our freedoms and our way of life and rule us through fear! Eating what you want is one of our freedoms as Americans! If you're afraid to eat Pringles, the terrorists win!" (I promise you that this sort of argument is in no way hyperbole.) (This argument is how Halloween was saved, by the way.  “If we cancel Halloween, the terrorists win!”)
People worked 9/11 into everything, and I mean everything, whether it was appropriate or not.  If you went to the grocery store the tortilla chips would remind you to support the troops on the packaging. Used car sales would be dedicated to our brave first responders. You couldn't wipe your ass without the toilet paper rolls reminding you to never forget the fallen of 9/11, and again, this is not hyperbole. My uncle, who lived in Ohio and had never been to New York except to visit once in the 70′s, died of a stroke about 8 months after 9/11, and the priest brought up the attacks at the eulogy.
On a similar local note, on the day of 9/11, after the towers went down, gas stations in my home town immediately jacked up gas prices.  The mayor had the cops go around and force them to take them back down.  I doubt any of that was legal.
Before 9/11, Christianity in America - and religion in general - was on a downward swing, with reddit-tier atheism on the upswing. Religion was outdated superstition from a bygone age. The day after 9/11? Every single church was PACKED. (This wasn't a bad thing, but the power-hungry on the Evangelical Right saw this as a golden opportunity to grab power and influence.)
EDIT: By Popular Demand - Freedom Fries. I initially left these off because they came a couple years after the initial panic and most people thought they were kind of absurd (and I don't recall anyone really going along with it other than maybe some local diners here and there). France didn't want to get involved in our world policing so some folks were like "TRAITORS!" and wanted to call french fries "Freedom Fries" instead, so as to stick it to the French.
Besides dumb shit like that…it’s really hard to overstate how completely the national mood and character changed in the span of a day, or how much of the current culture war is a result of the aftermath. (9/11 was the impetus for the sharp rise in power of the Evangelical Right, who made themselves utterly odious and the following backlash helped the rise of the current Progressive Left, for instance.)
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In this book you focus on the idea of gender as a global ‘phantasm’ – this charged, overdetermined, anxiety- and fear-inducing cluster of fantasies that is being weaponised by the right. How did you go about starting to investigate that? Judith Butler: When I was burned in effigy in Brazil in 2017, I could see people screaming about gender, and they understood ‘gender’ to mean ‘paedophilia.’ And then I heard people in France describing gender as a Jewish intellectual movement imported from the US. This book started because I had to figure out what gender had become. I was naïve. I was stupid. I had no idea that it had become this flash point for right-wing movements throughout the world. So I started doing the work to reconstruct why I was being called a paedophile, and why that woman in the airport wanted to kill me with the trolley. I’m not offering a new theory of gender here; I’m tracking this phantasm’s formation and circulation and how it’s linked to emerging authoritarianism, how it stokes fear to expand state powers. Luckily, I was able to contact a lot of people who translated Gender Trouble in different parts of the world, who were often gender activists and scholars in their own right. They told me about what’s happening in Serbia, what’s happening in Brazil, Chile, Argentina, Russia. So I became a student of gender again. I’ve been out of the field for a while. I stay relatively literate, of course, but I’ve written on war, on ethics, on violence, on nonviolence, on the pandemic… I’m not in gender studies all the time. I had to do a lot of reading.  There’s a lot of focus in the book on how the anti-gender movement has moved across the world in the past few decades, and how it’s inextricable from Catholic doctrine. It was clarifying for me; domestic anti-trans movements in the UK mostly self-identify as secular.  Judith Butler: In the UK, and even in the US, people don’t realise that this anti-gender ideology movement has been going on for some time in the Americas, in central Europe, to a certain degree in Africa, and that it’s arrived in the US by different routes, but it’s arrived without announcing its history. It became clear to me that a lot of the trans-exclusionary feminists didn’t realise where their discourse was coming from. Some of them do; some people who call themselves feminists are aligned with right-wing positions, and it’s confusing, but there it is. There’s an uncomfortable history of fascist feminism in movements like British suffragism, for instance. Judith Butler: Yes, and of racism. But when Putin made clear that he agreed with JK Rowling, she was probably surprised, and she rightly said, ‘no, I don’t want your alliance’, but it was an occasion for her to think about who she’s allying herself with, unwittingly or not. The anti-gender movement was first and foremost a defence of Biblical scripture, and of the idea that God created man and woman, and that the human form exists only in this duality and that without it, the human is destroyed – God’s creation is destroyed. So that morphed, as the Vatican’s doctrine moved into Latin America, into the idea that people who advocate ‘gender’ are forces of destruction who seek to destroy man, woman, the human, civilisation and culture. 
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Nightwish - The Phantom of the Opera 2002
"The Phantom of the Opera" is a song from the 1986 stage musical of the same name, based on the 1910 French novel of the same name by Gaston Leroux, which tells the tragic story of a beautiful soprano, Christine Daaé, who becomes the obsession of a mysterious, masked musical genius living in the subterranean labyrinth beneath the Paris Opéra House. The song was composed by Andrew Lloyd Webber, with lyrics written by Charles Hart and Richard Stilgoe, and additional lyrics by Mike Batt. The song was originally recorded by Sarah Brightman and Steve Harley, which became a UK hit single in 1986, prior to the musical. Listen to it here! In its theatrical debut, it was sung by Brightman and Michael Crawford in their roles as Christine Daaé and the Phantom. Listen to it here! The Phantom of the Opera was the longest running show in Broadway history, and celebrated its 10,000th performance on February 11, 2012, becoming the first Broadway production in history to do so. It is the second longest-running West End musical, after Les Misérables, and the third longest-running West End show overall, after The Mousetrap. The original West End production at Her Majesty's Theatre, London, ended its run in 2020, its run cut short by the COVID-19 pandemic.
Nightwish is a Finnish symphonic metal band from Kitee. The band was formed in 1996 by lead songwriter and keyboardist Tuomas Holopainen, guitarist Emppu Vuorinen, and former lead singer Tarja Turunen. The band soon picked up drummer Jukka Nevalainen, and then bassist Sami Vänskä after the release of their debut album, Angels Fall First (1997). In 2001, Vänskä was replaced by Marko Hietala, who also took over the male vocalist role previously filled by Holopainen or guest singers.
In 2002, Nightwish released Century Child, along with the singles "Ever Dream" and "Bless the Child". Century Child was certified gold two hours after its release, and platinum two weeks afterwards. It set a record on the Finnish album charts of most distance between a first place album and the second place. An enduring favorite of fans is the band's version of "The Phantom of the Opera". The song was routinely played in concerts until October 21, 2005, when vocalist Tarja Turunen was fired from the band and later replaced with Anette Olzon, whereupon the band announced that they would never play the song live again. This would hold true for 17 years until November 27 and 28, 2022, when Nightwish was joined by Dutch singer Henk Poort on stage at the Ziggo Dome in Amsterdam to perform the song. Marko Hietala joined Tarja Turunen at a couple of her solo shows in 2023 to sing "The Phantom of the Opera" with her. They are set to tour together in Spring 2024 in Latin America on Tarja's "Living The Dream – The Hits Tour".
"The Phantom of the Opera" recieved a total of 82,7% yes votes!
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i-aint-even-bovvered · 10 months
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Apparently some people think America Ferrera's speech in the Barbie movie is "corny" or "obvious" or something like that. But here's my personal perspective
First thing out of the way: I am nonbinary. I am not a woman. I am AFAB, though, and was therefore socialized like a girl and young woman, even if I felt like those words never really applied to me. Most of the time, though, other people who don't know me will see me as a woman. It's whatever.
No, this movie is not saying anything new. It is not a groundbreaking statement to say women face all these exhausting contradictions that cause them to bend over backwards to do the slightest thing.
But I don't think it's supposed to be groundbreaking. I don't think most people at the Barbie movie are going to have a huge revelation because America Ferrera said something that never heard or thought before. In the context of the movie, the character is speaking to a literal doll who has only recently learned that the real world is kinda shitty for a lot of people. Because this doll is literally something little girls project on, and little girls very often grow into women who deal with this shit. Yes, this is feminism 101, because it's speaking to a character who, until a day ago, lived in a matriarchal society where she never HAD to learn feminism 101. The oppression she faces is literally new to her!
And let's not forget that this is being said by a Latina woman in a blockbuster film. How often do you see that? She describes herself as a "boring mom with a boring job," and then she gets to rant about the fact that she's expected to always be extraordinary, but at the end of it all, she just wants her daughter to love her back and have a good day. And because of that, she's the hero of Barbieland!
Yes, it's cheesy. No, it's not subtle in the slightest. But sometimes, it's nice to hear someone say the words out loud.
And honestly, if you're going into the Barbie movie expecting subtlety, that's on you.
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iicarused · 5 months
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##let us adore you
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jeff the killer x reader / eyeless jack x reader / ticci toby x reader / UNEDITED
synopsis: general headcanons in which how you met them
beware: DARK THEMES / yandere traits, stalking, implied manipulation, mentions of murder &&* gore //: if there is any that i missed, please let me know !
envelope from the author: masky, hoodie, and kate chaser will be pt 2 of this:)
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JEFF THE KILLER
he met you at a convenience store, how funny. this man planned on killing the cashier, take the cash and leave a meal for his cannibal friend out back, then hop to the next town over. yet, you walked through the aisles of the store at the dark of the night. do you know what kind of creeps are out here at this hour?
he waited for you to leave before he got the job done. you should feel relieved, you should feel like the most luckiest person in the world and it’s because he spared you.
“no, i’m staying back.” he would tell his eyeless friend. “it’s my business to know and for you to fuck off,” he’d argue. “i have a… dilemma.” jeff confessed. for someone he only caught a glimpse of, for a voice he only heard a faint whisper from, he didn’t know whether to stay just for you or to leave while he can.
you were a plague in his mind, because he searched for you. it took three days at most to finally find the dorms you stayed in, and another three to know your roommates schedule. everyone in the area was shaken from the murder, everything including you. but why?
he could not understand why you would lock your windows and double check if the door was locked. both of you lived in a secured building where security littered the grounds and constantly checked ID. jeff would know, he stole a carbon copy of himself (in terms of dressing style) just to make sure of your safety on campus.
“hey, watch it!” jeff barked at the random who sped by you. he fixed his mask and came to your aid, a gloved hand coming over yours to help you up from the grass.
“oh, they’re probably just late to class,” you breathed. “it’s fine, but thank you.”
through the thin lens of his sunglasses, jeff drank in your appearance. “they could’ve bumped you on to the curb side — it really ain’t, sweetheart.” you smell great by the way.
“but they didn’t.” you finally looked at him and smiled. “are you a med student?”
you’re so sweet. so pure, and he wanted to corrupt that. he wanted to see those pretty doe eyes flutter up at him like that again, for the sweetness behind your gaze was enough for him to melt. he wants you, no, he needs you.
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EYELESS JACK
you were a curious one, a little too curious in this scenario. a detective in a case of which you were to figure out why bodies were missing organs — or why people were waking up with soreness to their abdomen to only find a stitched up wound.
you took this case as an eager detective who wanted to solve the biggest mystery of north america — but you felt as if you just signed your life away. in the next eight victims that fell to their demise, you made notes of when and where it occurred. it would not be until a night after talking with the sheriff and little too much rum, you found something.
to your horror, the first letter of every street spelled something. two words that nearly sent you running if it weren’t for something stopping you from leaving
“found you.” his voice was a gentle whisper, and almost incoherent if it weren’t for the dead silence in the room. you dared not turn but you felt if you didn’t, it would come closer.
the pistol is on your desk and you’re ready to make a ruckus for anyone on the street to hear. “what? was this just some silly little game for you to show me you could spell?” there were only two regrets you had in your entire life.
the first regret was that you wished you never lied to your mother of who broke the plate that was on the floor. the second regret was turning around and facing a being that was too intricate for you to understand.
“i like playing with my food.” he replied before lunging at you.
you made it out alive — but at the cost of remembering how those sockets were nothing but a void. the liquid that cried on to your face when he was on top of you, and that second, you took your pen and stabbed his side. — but that encounter made you more determined than before
this case turned into a game of cat and mouse, and neither of you know who is cat or who is the mouse. chasing each other became a source of entertainment, and conversations ensued between physical fights
he never intended on killing you, oh no. you were too… fun. the chatting, the hunting each other, the thrill of it all made him go crazy. with time, maybe he can finally sink his teeth into your skin without the murder aspect. he just wants to taste you.
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TICCI TOBY
your name appeared on the file of people to “take care of.” why? he doesn’t know and quite frankly, he cannot care. you were just another name on the list that needed to be gone.
he would not lie that it took him ages to find you. the town you were supposedly at was a total flunk, and when he told the boss, he was told to figure it out. at this rate, he wanted you gone for the sake of his own sanity. yet, after a month and hopping two towns, he finally found you.
everything he had on file sprouted nothing but lies because you were a doll, quiet literally if he fixated on your skin. he watched the way you moved and the way you made it seem effortless to walk on two feet. he often tripped over his when gawking over you. your scent is just how he imagined it when he peered over your sleeping form.
you made him forget why he was in search of you in the first place. toby fantasized a lot about you: your curves, your voice, your walk, your life. he often daydreamed of it when watching from afar, especially when you went through mundane tasks such as grocery shopping. the only time he remembered why he was told to end you was when he questioned why you were such a threat.
turns out you were friends of a friend who was a foe to his boss — the eyeless man. he made it no secret when in turn he went to find jack, but he didn’t expect to meet you so soon! oh, this is way too soon, how does he look? is it okay, this setting isn’t the right place, i mean, you were supposed to be
“toby? just toby? that isn’t quiet threatening for a man like that, isn’t it?” you werent speaking towards him, but instead asking jack who snorted in return.
you were a prize on the shelf, and toby wanted to keep you behind glass doors. “listen — pal, friend — how about we make a deal.”
while jack couldn’t see it, your gaze was locked with toby’s the entire time. there was something behind them, something that you couldn’t quite place. you weren’t sure whether if it was a good or bad thing considering the work you found yourself in.
“i give you a useful warning from a boss, and i... tag a long sometimes.”
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marcsburnerphone · 3 months
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And they were roomates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: angsty (very minimal), smut, jealousy, possesiveness?
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7 - part 8!!!!!
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When you get to the restaurant he has a large hand resting on your lower back. This spot is in the most crowded part of the city, meaning the ride was a bit over half an hour. He opens the door for you, stepping aside to let you in first. You sigh at the heat that radiates from inside as you step onto the hardwood floor of the very extravagant restaurant.
“John, I don't think I’m dressed for this kind of place.” You should’ve asked where you were going, god why didn’t you ask.
“What do you mean?” he asks confused, he looks down at you noticing the way you slightly sink into his side.
“I mean I’m underdressed for this place.” You whisper up to him, he looks around then back to you not seeing the problem at all. 
“I actually think you're overdressed.” He says winking at you, making you look away bashfully.
“John, I'm serious.” His eyes remain on you admiring the way your hair falls just above your collarbone, how you have your gorgeous legs on display for everyone to see. He simply doesn’t know what you’re on about. 
“You look beautiful, cut it out.” He says softly kneading at the meat on your hip, you pass up the long line of walk in groups and wait for the hostess to return which she quickly does.
“Reservation for John.” He says in his usual deep tone. Every so often you swear he lightens it for you.
“Okay follow me.” She gives you both a wide smile and collects two menus. 
John follows her and leads you through saying his ‘excuse me’s to the servers you pass by, keeping you tucked firmly to his side. Although it’s an intimate spot it’s also bustling with business inside. You realize this place is probably hard to get a reservation at as the walk in line piles up.
Once you’re sat and given menus she lets you both know your server will be with you shortly before leaving. 
“Have you been here before?” You ask as he glances over the drink menu.
“I have actually, Laswell and her wife got engaged here.” He smiles and remembers the very eventful night. Him and some old friends had hidden in a booth so they could watch it all take place and ended up getting caught in the end. 
“How long has she been married for?” 
“Nearly a decade.” You sigh with a smile. You want that. You want that terribly.
“Hi, can I get drinks started for you guys?” The server asks, John orders himself a scotch as you decide on what you want.
“I’ll just get an iced tea.” You say before looking up. But when you do you’re surprised to see an old friend.
“Adam?” You say with an awfully wide smile. 
“I knew that was you.” He says leaning in for a hug that you gladly reciprocate. 
“I’m so happy to see you.” You exclaim, last you heard of him he was in America. You wonder when he got back to the UK and how long he’s been back for.
“Me too, it’s lovely to see you. Anyways I’ll be back with your drinks.” He leaves as quickly as he came, stopping by other tables to check in.
“How do you know him?” John asks, you notice his gruff voice has an interesting pitch to it.
“Childhood friends.” You reply.
“Ah has it been awhile?” He asks curiously.
“A long while, he moved to the states and now he’s back I guess.” You shrug not really knowing what else to say.
“interesting.” You notice the way his eyes slightly trail your old friend as he walks around. 
“Okay, do you know what you're going to get?” You ask him to regain his attention. 
“I think so, you?” You nod your head also looking over the menu once more before making your final decision. 
“Here you guys go.” Adam says setting the drinks down at your table. 
“Are you ready to order?”He asks, keeping his eyes firmly on you. You don’t notice it but your very watchful date does. 
“No actually, could we have a couple more minutes?” John says, catching your attention as you give him a puzzled look. 
“Yeah, take all the time you need, by the way I heard from your sister not too long ago she told me you and Brian broke up. I was shocked, truly we all thought you guys would get married .” He says turning back to you. 
“Well they didn’t.” John says lowly beneath his breath. You and your old friend look at him for a second before you reply.
“Yeah, it just didn’t work out.” You reply a little awkwardly in remembrance of the breakup. Brian had also been a childhood friend and a highschool sweetheart.
“You were always too good for him.” you can't think of an appropriate way to answer that so there's a second of silence before he takes the hint. “ Okay then I’ll be back in a bit.” 
“He’s flirting with you” John says once he walks away.
“You think?”
“You don’t.” He feels like he just watched the man’s pupils turn into hearts at the sight of you.
“Are you jealous?” you ask, trying to read his expression.
“Of the childhood friend, or possibly family friend that's flirting with you, no.” He feels like it’s childish but in the end he’s just a man.
“John.” 
“Please doll, don’t.” You can't believe your eyes as you watch his jaw tick.
“Okay.” you try to suppress the smile that makes its way onto your lips. John has absolutely nothing to worry about but nonetheless is pent up.
He changes the topic and asks you about your next painting project, what you think it’ll be and where you think you’ll put it. You ask him about his own work, where did he meet his task force or rather how until Adam is back for your order.
You guys go back and forth on whether princess diana's death was an assassination or simply a horrible accident you say it was an assassination while he calls you crazy till your food is brought out to you.
There’s still light conversation between bites and sips. He’s not jealous, he tells himself, just bothered, bothered that you’ve known that man longer, how he knows your sister and had recently spoken to her, how he looks at you like you're more than friends. 
When dinner finishes up you offer to pay out of kindness and he just laughs shaking his head. When the check comes and he reads it he notices how your items have been paid for and prays dearly to remain collected.
“Did they double charge you or something?” You are confused at the subtle scowl on his face. 
“More like undercharged, do you see your friend anywhere?” He says looking around and you do also.
“No.” 
“It looks like all your items are paid for.” He’s clearly upset and although you sort of understand why, you can’t completely understand.
“It’s probably just a nice gesture John.” Why did he have to do that? 
“Doll I’m a man, I know what this means.” He sighs, jaw clenching. 
“Okay but we’re old friends.” You say trying to calm him down but failing miserably. 
“Oh you don’t say.” He says pressing his lips together. 
“Let's just forget about it, come on.” You softly plead.
“I’m not leaving without paying for your meal.” And he means it. When your unfortunate friend comes back around to collect the check, John's talking before he can get a word in.
“I’m sorry but I’d like to pay for these items.” John says to him with a husky deeper, irritated tone.
“I thought I’d treat an old friend.” Adam says looking to you while John’s holding onto every inch of his patience. 
“I’d like to treat my girl if you don’t mind.” Adam looks back to you for whatever reason but your eyes are stuck on John like you're in a trance. 
“Okay sir I’ll um I’ll rerun this.” He says walking away. It’s awkward silence and he’s still breathing in an unnatural pattern. But my girl, my girl, my girl. Is all you could think about.
“Here you are sir.” He says handing back the check. John gives it a quick glance before placing his card inside and handing it back. 
When he comes back around to give John his card back and a receipt for a signature you guys both get up to leave. 
“It was nice seeing you, maybe we can hang out soon?” Adam says facing you. 
“It was nice seeing you too.” John patiently waits for you to join him at his side.
“Maybe I can get your number?” The tone is one you’d only identify as flirtatious. You shut your eyes for a second realizing John was right but regardless of that he has nothing to be jealous about. 
“I'm sorry if you hadn’t noticed but I'm actually here on a date and I think that would be a little inappropriate.” You say politely while walking away. Once you're next to John his hand is around your waist as he is now the one trying to suppress a smirk. You walk out into the cold air huffing as you tighten your hands around yourself. 
When you get to the car John opens your door as he always does, waiting for you to sit before closing it. He gets in quietly turning the key in the ignition as the car hums to life, you look towards the window and out into the city, in another life you're definitely a city girl who sits at bars with friends and smokes cigarettes on fire escapes. As he’s driving he can’t help but notice the pout on your face. He fears he upset you in some way as your eyes stay on the road.
You can’t help but feel like he’s upset with you for not shutting it down sooner. His silence only leaves room for your mind to take over. This is the common dance between you two. He feels bad for how his jealous tendencies may have affected your first date and you feel guilty for letting this man openly make a pass on you infront of John.
“Doll.” 
“Hmm.” You reply not looking towards him. You’ve entered the long highway that leads home. The city is now in the rearview mirror getting smaller and smaller. With his right hand he caresses your chin turning you to face him. 
“What’s with this look?” He asks softly as his eyes bounce from you to the road. The hand that’s on your face makes its way to rest upon your upper thigh.
“Sorry.” 
“Don’t be sorry, I’m genuinely asking.” He says a little confused.
“I truly didn’t think it meant anything.” He sighs realizing you're overthinking, that’s why you're quiet. 
“Don’t let that bother you, it’s okay.” He reassures you.
“I just don’t know what kind of man sees a woman who’s clearly on a date and is still so bold. Although when it comes to you I fear I’d be the same way.” John says and you scoff with a small smile looking away.
“I would, you're gorgeous, a gem. But my gem.” You can’t help the rise of warmth to your cheeks. You realize John is always complimenting you, always making sure you know how valuable you are. Does he not realize how you feel about him? 
“And how do you think I feel about you?” You say in a tone close to a whisper. His eyes search yours wondering where this is going.
“Getting jealous over a man who doesn’t compete with you and never could is beyond me.” You continue when he doesn’t respond.
“John, you're the most attractive man I’ve ever met, and I’m gladly all yours. My mind is too full of john price to think about anyone else” He groans quietly at the admission, not quite enough for your sensitive ears to pass up on though. 
“Yeah?” He says shifting in his seat as your words go straight to his cock.
“Yeah.” You gaze at him with the widest eyes, his hand clenches and unclenches around the steering wheel as he tries to remain gentlemanly.
You unbuckle your seatbelt causing him to turn his head at the sound. You’re still about five minutes away from home so he's slightly confused. Though all that dissipates when you lean up against the center council placing a hand on his thigh grazing over the growing erection he knows you know is there to plant a kiss on his cheek then one on his lips before sliding back into your seat.
“Thankyou for dinner.” It’s laced with seduction. 
you approach home at a faster speed than usual. He’s out of the car the second it's set in park rushing to your side to help you out. You can’t read his current expression as he practically drags you inside.
“Are you alright?” You ask, he scoffs at your audacity, fumbling with the keys to get the door unlocked. He’s ushering you inside quickly so the heat doesn’t escape from inside the home. You remove your boots by the door as John locks up. When you look up he's closer than you expected and his eyes are staring at you hungrily.
“Have I ever told you that you have a staring probl-“ his mouth is on yours before you can finish. There’s no easing into the kiss this time. He’s forcing his tongue in your mouth taking you by a welcomed surprise. He lifts you up like it’s nothing, hoisting you firmly around his waist. 
His lips drag messily down your neck as he pulls your sweater down further, any and all access to your skin available to him he wants to taste. You’re pressed up against a wall one second and then being walked towards his room another. He’s impatient and it's unlike him, yet he’s never felt more like himself. 
Your hands are in his hair pulling up his mouth to meet yours. His pants are so strained in the crotch area that he’s bucking his hips unintentionally searching for any kind of attention. You've grown embarrassingly wet in a matter of minutes,  being turned on doesn’t describe how you feel. Your skirt has become scrunched above your bum from all John’s touching and kneading. 
“Please.” You whine. He meets your lustful stare, smiling at how submissive you’ve become from just a little touching. 
“What do you want?” His voice has dropped octaves and his accent sounds extra thick as he says it in the short space between you. When you refuse to answer he presses more into you sparking friction so intense and so needed that your eyes shut softly. 
“What is it, hmm?” 
“You John, I want you.” You admit, you’re truly trying your best given what you want sounds too raunchy to speak aloud.
“Well I’m right here, gonna need more of an explanation.” He’s trying his hardest to not just give you it all. 
“Your fingers.” You can’t look at him as you say it. But the smile that forms on his face is so large and proud. 
“Don’t be an ass.” You say watching as your words definitely go to his ego. He knew you had a thing for his hands as he often caught you glancing at them when you got the chance. 
“You’re making my greatest wishes come true, why can’t I just be happy about it.” You smile now as his lips return to yours. He walks more down the hall this time you believe he’s heading into his room until your backs pressed up somewhere else. You open your eyes confused looking around before you notice you’re up against the candlelight painting, before you can question him he reads your mind.
“Don’t think I ever told you how much I love this one.” He says as he begins to remove your top. You raise your hands for him as he throws it to the floor beside you. You feel his hips stutter a bit when he sees the black Lace bra that adorns your chest.
“You’ll be the death of me.” 
“Promise?” 
His hands waste no time in finding the space between your thighs as he rubs an experimental finger over the damp spot that’s soaked through your tights. He nearly drops to his knees for a taste when he realizes just how wet you are. 
“Is this all for me?” he asks, pressing more firmly into the area.
“Yes.” it lacks that poised tone you always have. He grips the thin fabric and rips it in the crotch area and just like all tights, once one thread becomes undone the rest basically tears itself. He peers down looking at your matching panties clicking his tongue. His eyes go immensely dark at the sight of your arousal smeared on your plump thighs. He pushes your panties to the side shamelessly dipping a finger into your glistening cunt. Your back arches off the painting at the new sensation, mouth dropping a bit In anticipation. You hear how wet you are as he slides a finger up and down through your folds simply getting familiar with you, committing this to memory. 
“Please john.” you whine. His eyes find yours as his index finger begins to prod at your sopping entrance. He watches your face intently as he slides it inside, groaning at the way you clench around the single digit. His fingers are thick and coarse and your newest obsession. He can't get enough of the look of pleasure on your face as he begins to pump it in and out of you. You've sucked your bottom lip between your teeth to keep your moans mostly muffled trying your best to make little noise but that just doesn’t work for him. He leans in sucking it into his own mouth before kissing you deeply as you try your hardest to reciprocate. He begins to introduce his middle finger slowly easing it inside next to his other, your mouth falls open as a sound of pure pleasure escapes at the stretch. 
“D’s that feel good?” he asks breathlessly as the nearly painful erection in his pants twitches. You can't bring yourself to answer as your eyes fall to the hand that’s delivering you this feeling of ecstasy. He too watches in awe as your arousal leaks into his palm. 
“S’good all yours john.” you cry out as he presses his thumb to your clit. He can feel you getting close by the way his fingers are fighting to keep pumping inside your tight hole. He keeps the pace as he places sloppy kisses on your breasts sucking a little roughly on the soft tissue and watching the little bruises that immediately arise. 
He watches you in admiration, this is a paramount moment in his life. He curls his fingers towards that spot that makes you mumble incoherently, creasing your eyebrows in diversion.
“John, I'm close.” you're not close you’re practically there and he can't wait to see how pretty you look coming on his hand.
“Come on doll.” he wishes his eyes were cameras, he wants to keep the look on your face as you moan out his name forever. How your hands are holding onto his shoulders for dear life as if he’d drop you. And the way your long eyelashes flutter close. You're a dream, an absolute spectacle. His fingers continue to fuck you through the intense feeling, making sure you’re more than sated. 
He waits for your breathing to slow as he pulls his fingers from you. You whimper at the empty feeling. Your eyes that are struggling to fully open don't miss the moment he sucks them into his mouth gathering every ounce of spilled arousal. He moans loudly around them and you feel that switch come back on as quickly as it did the first time. He takes you to his room kicking the door open and setting you softly onto his bed. He removes your panties discreetly tucking them in his pocket as you still struggle to fully regain awareness. 
“May I?” He asks kindly, leaning down as he begins to hook your thigh around his shoulder.
“Oh John I never you don’t-“ 
“You never what?” He questions in absolute disbelief.
“You know this.” You gesture down to him with your hands, slightly embarrassed.
“I won’t if you don’t want me too.” He wants a taste desperately, truly doesn’t know what he’ll do if you deny him. 
“It’s not that I don’t want you too, it's just don’t feel obligated.” He laughs and you feel the air of his breath fan against you. 
“You're the one doing me the honor here, if you don’t like it just nudge me with your hand.” You nod nervously at him as he gains some focus onto the matter at hand. 
He’s eye to eye with the most mouth watering sight on the planet. You’re perfect in a way that would seem unachievable if you weren’t a living testimony that it is. 
He opens his mouth laying his tongue flat against your folds, your hips buck unintentionally and he moves to grip your hips and hold them firm. 
One taste and he’s sure you will truly be the death of him. He immerses himself in you, lapping at everything you're willing to give. You moan softly as your hands find their way into his hair. It’s good, better than anything you could’ve expected. His beard burns the inner part of your thighs and that mixed with the way John has his eyes on you while his tongue finds ways to make your back arch off the bed is mesmerizing. You try your best to not grind down onto his face every time his nose makes contact with your clit. You wonder if he can breathe, deciding he probably can’t by the way his face is snug against you, the ungodly sounds of slurping and grunting is making you woozy all around. 
“tastes so good, all f’me.” He says as he eats you out. It’s muffled into your folds, like if it wasn’t meant for you to hear. You feel that familiar build up of something hot and liquidy poor into your lower belly. A hand of yours kneads at your breast adding to the overwhelming senses of pleasure, with your other hand you pull on the locks of John’s hair, when he looks up he can’t contain it, the way his cock senselessly grinds into the mattress begging to be touched, he removes a hand from your hip carefully sliding it down the bed to release and stroke his aching red cock. He watches you lose yourself in pleasure as he fucks you on is tongue, your needy cries are melodic too him, they make him hungrier than ever before as he fucks his fist in fervor imagining the day he can split you open with it. Before he can think correctly he’s spurting loads more than he thought was possible onto his hand and dress shirt. The groan that he pours into you sends an intense feeling through your body, like thrashing waters that pull you under and keep you there before letting you back up. You don’t mean to, didn’t even expect it so soon but once the vibration hits you your clamping down onto his face. He doesn’t seem to mind, just continues to lick and prod at you letting your hips move slowly on his face. 
“John I’m-” you try catching your breath.
“You better not say sorry my love.” He can’t comprehend that this is real life. He tries to drink up all of what’s left of you before you push him away from over sensitivity.
You lay there breathless and heavy as he climbs above you planting a kiss onto your lips. You moan softly as you taste yourself from his mouth. When he pulls away you look at him with his wet beard and glistening stache. 
“What about you?” You say looking down towards his now unbuttoned pants.
“Finished about five minutes ago.” He says smugly. 
“What?” 
“What can I say doll, you're divine.” He’s not even phased by it and you’re in complete shock. He presses his weight down into you once more for a kiss then gets up and heads into the bathroom, you’re not sure what he’s doing till he comes back with a warm cloth and cleans the mess you made up. You’re unfamiliar with your partner doing aftercare but it’s nice. 
“D’ya want a pair of boxers or sweats, and a shirt or sweater.” He says while going to his dresser. 
“Boxers and sweater.” You answer quietly, you’re spent, as sleepy as can be. When he approaches you with both those things he helps you dress and opens the comforters for you to get inside. He himself is dressed in pajamas as he scoots in next to you pulling you firmly to his chest. You scoot impossibly close and intertwine your legs with his, your face is in the crook of his neck inhaling him as you fall asleep. He doesn’t want to lose this moment so quickly though so he tries his best to keep himself awake for as long as possible just to savor having you in his bed entangled with him physically and mentally. Although it doesn’t last as long as he’d like it’s enough to get him through the hard nights, his eyes drift closed as he too falls asleep.
——————-
I too am ashamed of myself🫶
Comments and re-blogs are greatly appreciated (if you do know spiritually I’m giving you a forehead kiss) ❕
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864 notes · View notes
mrrharper · 2 months
Text
More Loyal, More American, More The Same
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Coach had been annoyed a bit lately. It wasn't because of any singular thing - a lost game or some encounter. It was more of a... vibe, as his players would say. It's something that's been nagging him for a long time.
The whole atmosphere around college football has changed. Players can now earn money, meaning they now care only about getting rich instead of sacrificing everything they've got for the team. The craze abound 'toxic masculinity' has taken hold, and as a result many guys on the team have taken up interests and activities unworthy of real men - and they are extremely public about this!
Something has been lost - some immeasurable yet vital part of college football's spirit. And unfortunately Coach's team wasn't immune to this. He has seen his younger recruits display a variety of behaviors that differed from his view of how a college football rookie should function in a locker room filled with other football players.
And Coach's opinion becomes the law of the locker room. So after he saw a few of his defensive linemen participate in a film theory seminar, and his starting wide receiver posted a picture showing him attending some anti-government protest, he knew he had to act.
He decided to tackle these issues in a few ways. He began with working on his players' patriotism. Coach knew that he needed his guys to have this base layer - respect for the great nation that they were a part of - that he could build upon. He turned to one of his most trusted tools, subconscious messaging hidden in his videos and presentations.
you are an American
you are a Real Patriot
you play AMERICAN football
you fight for America
America is the greatest country on Earth
you preserve American traditions and values
During teem meetings, the players' minds began internalizing the importance of unquestionable loyalty to the US of A, the greatest place in the world. Coach spent a few weeks working on this, and when Military Appreciation Day came, for the first time in a long time, the whole team took active part in it. He even heard a few of them talk abut enlisting after college.
Motivated by such positive results, Coach moved to his next objective. After a bit of tampering, the speakers the players used to play music in the gym during workouts began incorporating conditioning that would align their behavior with Coach's expectations.
i am a man
i am proud to be a man
i am a strong man
i do what is masculine
my manhood needs upkeep
masculinity defines me
Alongside this, it didn't take a lot of work for coach to make sure that none of his players could sign up for any extracurricular activity through the school's registration system. Not only that, they were now barred form attending anything other than the most basic of classes.
Fortunately, the results were visible here as well. The players stopped attending seminars and lectures created by a bunch of nerds and no longer showed interest in investing much time into any sort of academic work.
The last step Coach decided to undertake was meant to address the issue of money. Players, having the ability to make deals and get income from their appearance in games, seemed to have lost the true reason for playing college football. But there was a way of dealing with that too.
The new helmets that the athletics department bought recently all include a pair of speakers for the purpose of communication between the coaches and the player. In theory this is reserved only for the QB, but there's nothing Coach can't work around.
i play AMERICAN football
i am grateful Coach allows me to play
i play football for glory and to preserve tradition
the thrill of the game is enough
i am Coach's loyal football jock
During every practice, during every workout, during every game, the player's minds were being bombarded with Coach's hypnotic message. And it was working. The guys were displaying their patriotism more often - flags hanging in their rooms, tons of pro-american posts on Instagram, they stopped attending non-mandatory classes and instead added another team session in the gym to their schedules, and Coach noted a visible drop in the number of sponsorship deals the players were making.
There might have been one side effect. As time went on the players began looking more and more similar. The same hobbies, mostly working out or shooting, the same clothes, the same views, the same drive to protect tradition. And Coach had absolutely nothing against that. Who cares if they all act the same, as long as they act exactly as he wants them to.
As Coach's loyal football jocks.
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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months
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DC x DP: Passion for Fashion
Danny Fenton's life is weird.
Ever since the accident that turned him into a helfa life has been throwing him around like a quarter in a dryer. He got good at rolling with the punches- fugitively and not- but every once in a while, he gets a surprise.
One of those surprises is his future self turning evil after killing his human side and eating Vlad's ghost side. Then he went on a world wide rampage that devastated the human race for almost two decades. Thankfully, he defeated him and locked up Dan between timelines, where he will spend all of entirely inside a thermos.
That was until Clockwork lost all sanity.
"What do you mean you let him out?" Danny slams his hands on the only table Clockwork owns. The time ghost doesn't seem moved by his outburst, not that the Accident ever does, as Clockwork often than not, was impassive with everything that has ever happened, could happen, or will happen.
Seeing all outcomes did that to a person.
"Two years have passed since his initial creation. That was enough time for the timeline that he came from to cease, as he never shaped humanity's history. This means, Daniel, that I could no longer hold Dan for a crime that does not exist."
"But he leveled nations, committed genocide and war crimes against the Infinite Realms! How can you say he is innocent!?"
Clockwork sighs. "I am not saying he is innocent but he did them in a time that ceased. All those nations stand tall, the people he killed never died, and all the war crimes were undone. I am saying he has never committed them in the first place."
Dan smirks from where he is rocking in a chair. Danny doesn't like the being's significant bulky form, so ready and dangerous, being so close to him. His counterpart could easily snap his neck with those beefy arms. "It seems I am free to go Brat."
Clockwork levels an unimpressed stare on his future self. "No, you are not. You still have the potential to commit crimes. Which is why Daniel is here."
Danny punches his fist, sneering at Dan, "You want me to kick his ass again?"
Dan snorts. He quirks a brow at Danny as if saying he found the threat to be nothing more than an amusing yelp from a small dog. Danny bristles.
"No," Said Clockwork "I want you to be his model for the Gotham fashion show."
What?
Dan leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head. Danny is reminded of repeated offending students who get called into the principal's office but have lost all respect for the principal. They don't care. And neither does Dan.
"Apparently, I need to find a positive outlet for all my pent-up rage, and Clocky, here, thinks I could be a fashion designer." Dan snorts again.
Danny stares at Clockwork in betrayal. "You think he what?"
"I do not think. I know. I also know that neither of you will take this seriously, so I took the liberty of fusing a bomb into your cores. If you attempt to leave Gotham's city bounds, the bomb will go off, and you will cease."
Danny's and Dan's mouths drop open in a sickening mirror. They each reach into their chest only to slam their fingers against one of the clockwork's allurements pulsing against their cross. In a chill boning moment, they realize the Time Lord would kill them both without so much of a blink if it meant preserving the timeline.
Danny had often forgotten that Clockwork did not particularly care for him past his involvement with certain events.
"But- Modleing!? What does that have to do with anything?!"
For the first time in a long time, Clockwork smiled. "It is the catalyst of a turning point in Gotham."
"What the hell even is Gotham?" Dan demands slamming his own hands on the table. Danny is pushed out of the way to make the action possible which only irritates the younger more.
"Gotham is one of America's greatest crime infestive cities."
"Ugh, dude, that's not true.." Danny cuts in. "I've never heard of Gotham, and I've lived in America all my life."
"Not your timeline's America, Daniel."
"You're talking about an alternate universe. One that doesn't have a Daniel Fenton, doesn't it? " Dan questions crossing his arms. He rolls his eyes at Danny's confused gaze. "Honestly. And you call yourself the Ghost King. The Infinite Realms connect every living's things afterlife that, includes aliens and other universes. I never attacked any of them, but I did do some study on them."
"Dan is correct. This timeline has slowly been spiraling out of control due to Batman slowly losing whatever is left of his mind. His children are the only reason he's still considered Belovlent but he is going to lose them soon if he does not shape up. Your job is to make sure that does not happen."
"How do we do that?"
"By winning the Wayne Amature Fashion Show and ensuring Batman does not lose his humanity."
Dan snorts. "I can't help someone not lose their humanity. I don't have mine anymore."
"I believe you do. Otherwise, you wouldn't already have designs in mind for young Daniel."
Danny blinks as Dan carelessly shrugs his shoulder. He has designs already? Clockwork places two thick folders on the table. "Here are your backgrounds that will explain your apparence in that world. I expect you to memorize them and get used to them while in Gotham."
"Danny and Dan Fenton. Emancipated minor brothers from Santa Prisca who found their way to the USA with asylum when thier mother died getting them off the island. We're both meta-humans, with the ablitites to glow in the dark and make ice. " Danny read off squinting his eyes at the unfamilar words like "meta", "santa prisca" and most of all the ending part. "It says we're twins."
"Yes."
"Ummm he's like a thousand years old." Danny says pointing at Dan.
"I'm twenty-six"
"And still single. Ouch."
Clockwork raises his staff before Dan had a chance to answer. "I will of course be making adjustments."
Dan's body de-ages before Danny's eyes, dragging the man back into the body of a sixteen year old. Dan looks utterly bewildered for a only a few seconds before he opens his mouth a releases a string of spanish curse words.
Danny blinks. "I didn't know you spoke Spanish."
"I don't!" The teenage ghost sneers.
"You do now." Clockwork sighs putting down his staff. "As does Daniel. Santa Prisca is a Spanish's speaking country. It would not make sense if refugees from there did not speak the language. Now, good luck to you both, and remember, failing means I end your existence."
One blink to the next, Danny founds himself in the middle of a large city, with Dan- now in human form and looking identical to Danny- at his side with various suitcases surrounding them.
"I hate when he freezes time and moves me." Danny groans and Dan kicks the ground.
"How do we even know what a Batman is?"
"I guess we start here?" On the wall, is a flyer announcing the Wayne Armature Fashion show, with a cash prize of a fifty thousand dollars. A picture of a smiling man is printed on it with the words "Bruce Wayne as special judge." next to him.
"We have a house" Dan says flipping though his folder. "Crap knows how, but apparently it was left to us by a well meaning old man in his will. We should go there before we try to takle this whole Fashion show thing."
"Oh and you know so much about that."
"In case you forgot how to count boy, I was twenty-four when you sealed me away. Two years passed since then and I did not spend them in a thermos."
"What?"
"Clockwork let me out, but only in his haunt. I picked up a sewing machine after I failed to beat him in combat." Dan shrugs at the teenager's expression. "I know but I mellowed out a lot when my ordinal timeline ended. My madness went with it."
"How so?"
"I was mad with grief but you saved your family and friends, so that grief never came to be."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Time Paradoxes never make sense."
Danny sighs "This isn't the first mission Clockwork's ever sent me on either. I've never gone to a different timeline but I went back in time a lot to stop other ghosts from getting too powerful. I know all about time Paradoxes."
"Crap are we cops? Time Cops?"
"Ugh I think we are."
"That's terrible. We have to find this Batman and get him to therapy cause I will not be a cop."
Danny follows after Dan, who is muttering to himself while reading a outdated map of the city. He wonders if the other realized he spoke in Spanish or if it had been a unconscious thought. He hopes this mission won't take too long, he wants to get away from his greatest mistake as soon as he can.
And he needs to work on his walk if he's going to strut down the run way soon.
Ugh.
Across the city, Bruce narrows his eyes at the Batcomputer screen as two identical sixteen year old's stare back at him. He hasn't found that tied them with criminal activity but meta's from Santa Prisca of all places has set off more then one bell in his head.
"Keep a eye on them" He tells his children who are all reading the same thing. "I don't trust them."
"Do you trust anyone B?" Dick jokes but his smile is strained as he reads the contest rules., "Did you really make up a whole fashion show just to lure Dan Fenton?"
"He's shown signs of fashion inclinations."
"Yeah but why are we the judges." Tim complains "I don't a thing about fashion."
Steph, Duke, Damian and Cass all nod. Bruce, unwilling to admit he just wanted to spend time with his kids, only grunts "It's for the mission."
"Sure B."
2K notes · View notes
qqueenofhades · 1 year
Note
How do we balance the tentative joy of hearing about the indictment with the overwhelming and crushing knowledge that not a goddamn thing is going to come of this and ultimately nothing will change?
Because
um
reasons.
(actually i feel like if the skies split open and shithead goes to jail it'll just leave a giant sucking void for desantis to slime his way into the party's graces and he'll charge full speed ahead into nuking this country from the inside)
Okay, look. Everyone reacts differently, we've all been through a fuckload of trauma, and all that, but I just... really don't get the pre-emptive "don't get your hopes up, nothing will happen and nothing will change." I know that people do it as a defense mechanism, but we spent months hearing that Trump would win the 2020 election. (He lost it.) Then we heard that all his lawsuits to overturn might actually work. (They didn't.) Then we heard that he wouldn't be impeached after January 6. (He was.) Then we heard that he wouldn't be indicted, and well, today, he was. This is unprecedented in the history of America. Over 250+ years, and a current or former president had never been indicted for anything. Not even goddamn Nixon was formally charged, and Biden definitely isn't gonna pardon Trump the same way Ford did with Tricky Dick. And now that someone has finally bit the bullet and gone first, there are a whole cascade of other indictments lined up and waiting to be finished.
We don't know what will happen, but something will. Trump will be arrested and arraigned, and yet again: this has never happened before. Just throwing up our hands and going "well guess nothing's gonna happen and he'll get off scot free!" is NOT the energy we want to be bringing here. It's time to push forward, make sure that the Manhattan DA, and everyone else with pending charges against him, hold that motherfucker's greasy orange feet to the fire and make him FRY. As for DeSantis, as I have written about before, he's not smart, he's not a good candidate, and his ideas are not by any means universally popular. Fascists thrive on making you feel disempowered and hopeless, so it's no use to fight them since they'll just win anyway, and all the terrible events of the last few years have made it an appealing idea, but... c'mon now.
Everyone insisted for months that Trump would never be charged with anything. But almost 60% of the country thinks that the criminal cases against him are permanently disqualifying, and this is before any major cascades. This whole "if you dare to arrest Trump, he'll win in a landslide in 2024!" psy-op is just that: a psy-op. A trick. A bluff. They're shit scared that the Big Mac God King is finally on the brink of an actual downfall and facing consequences for his actions for the first time in his fucking miserable life, and they're trying to freak us out of doing it, because they have nothing left. So I say: get him. Run him over. Then back up the truck and run him over again.
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salaciousdoll · 4 months
Text
· · · ℜ · · · ShowGirls · · · ℜ · · ·
.·:*¨¨*:·. starring Suguru Geto x Fem! reader .·:*¨¨*:·.
ᰔᩚ ━━ Warnings: Smut, Just a tiny bit of angst( may be unnoticeable, Geto is obsessed with you from the bat so he could be considered yandere here, Geto is pussy!drunk, you are mind fucked and dick drunk, Geto is 34 here, Boys trip with jjk men, reader is a show girl which means she’s gonna be showing her body off, based on the movie showgirls, you are hella confident in this, you’re the star of the show, body!worship, Geto takes pictures of you on his digital camera, geto has a lip ring and a frenum piercing on his dick, geto has tattoos here as well so this is far from canon au, side ways fuck position turned into missionary position, riding on top facing geto position as well, so three positions in total. Fingering, could be considered passionate sex, praising, pet names to Geto( honey pie, honey, etc.),pet names to you( doll, baby doll, pretty girl, baby, etc.) , bodily fluids( squirting, cum, etc.),breeding kink, they fuck without a condom on the first night meeting one another( telling you this so you could not do this in REAL LIFE, wrap up if you do), geto talks you through it, let me know if I missed something ᰔᩚ ━ word count : 7.5k
Minors do not interact, 18+
ᰔᩚ ━ Note from Salaciousdoll: hi hii everyone, this is my first fic of the year so I hope you enjoy this just as much as I enjoyed writing this. Geto and the others may be ooc to some but oh well, I tried. Anyways, just enjoy!!!
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Las Vegas, the city of world-class cuisines, casinos, their very fluorescent lights, and loads of entertainment loitering upon the streets or inside the tall stature of buildings. Such a beautiful place, a place Suguru and the guys decided to visit for their bro trip. They came all the way from Japan just to see the glorious strip everyone gloats about when they come back from their little trips from America.
They were celebrating the milestone Gojo has overachieved with his company and Geto knew this trip would be overbearing. He may even go back to the hotel from the way Gojo is speaking about the activities he wants everyone to participate in as they walk the strip.
“ I’m saying, we should really go to a strip club and see what honeys’ we could take back to the hotel for a party!”, Satoru said while pulling his glasses down a bit to exaggerate his statement.
“ Gojo, we’re not here for that, that’s what you stated when I agreed to go on this trip with you all.”, Kento says, pushing his glasses up on his face as he views the building around him.
Toji was too busy walking and eating on the pizza he snatched up from a vendor selling them on the street, he eyed some of the girls walking with their boyfriends. Shiu was talking on the phone to one of his clients as he walked next to Toji. Hiromi was walking next to Kusakabe, and both had something in their mouths. Atsuya had a sucker in his hot mouth and Hiromi had a cigarette between his luscious lips, fixing his tie as he walked.
Sukuna was too busy chatting it up with a woman who had body paint on her top part, the others knew what was about to happen, so they kept going as they listened to the pink haired, tattooed man yell, “ huh, pay you?!! For what?! Showing off your tits?!”
They heard a loud slap, since they weren’t too far away, and laughed at him. Nanami was the only one to do his research before they came here and told them about the strip rules. If you take a pic or ask them anything concerning what they are showing to you, they will ask for cash in return. When he told them that, they all groaned or gasped with a few yells following. Nanami just said, “ Pay for play”
“ You should know better than to believe those words coming out of Satoru’s mouth, Kento. He manipulated you. Easily too.”, Geto says, ignoring Sukuna grumbling in the back and snapping pictures of the buildings surrounding them with his Nikon digital camera that was hanging off his neck.
“ Awh come on, I didn’t manipulate poor Nanami~ here, I just changed my mind at the moment, the mind works wonderful righf?!”, Gojo says, in the middle of Suguru and Kento. One of them looked at Satoru with amusement and the other looked annoyed. You could probably guess who’s who. Nanami looked at his arm around him in annoyance while Geto chuckled to himself.
“ Hey, where’s space buns?, haven’t seen him since we arrived at the strip.”, Toji says with a cocked eyebrow.
Hiromi looked around to find him and the others did the same, “ It’s a bit crowded so he might’ve wandered off.”
Atsuya slipped the sucker out his mouth and sighed, “ Maybe we could split up and se-
“ No, need. He’s over there at a place called Flamingo, heard it’s an iconic casino and it’s a hotel as well.”, Shiu said, pausing his conversation on the phone to point across the street at Choso who stood in front of the building just looking at the bright colors like a lost child discovering a flying car.
Geto snapped his eyes to Choso and they all walked across the street at the red light. Girls and guys honked the horns and tried flirting with them all as they crossed the street.
“ Hot guy with the compressed shirt, wanna come to my place.”
“ Hottie with the glasses and suit, come get some from mama.”
“ I want the one with long hair, it’s so dreamy.”
“ Fuck that, give me all of them.”
They laughed and smirked at their catcalls. Usually they wouldn’t be as flattered but tonight is the night of sin. And the nights after that is fueling with sin as well, so some of them waved and some of them placed a phone sign to their ears making the guys and girls gush and swoon over them as they slurred out more dirty compliments until they crossed the street and the light turned green.
By the time they got to Choso, still flirting and smiling at the people passing them by, they saw that he was now looking across the street. It was a building that looked like an expensive theater illuminated with pretty lights slithering all over it like a python. It showed you on the big billboard with words they tried to decipher but only Geto and Nanami knew what it said because of Geto’s good eyesight and Nanami’s glasses crowding his eyes.
Choso then turned to Nanami who was standing without his glasses on his face now, Choso gasped when he saw the expression Nanami conveyed on his face. The expression of fondness and admiration. He cleared his throat and spoke up, “ What does it say?”
“ Forget that, she’s eye candy.”, Atsuya says, now biting into his sucker after sucking for a long time.
Gojo smirked and turned to Geto, who was staring at the digital billboard you were smiling with pink feathers around your body. Geto stared at the way your smile perfectly matched with your eyes unlike any other billboard, digital or not, he saw here with women as the catch. He looked at the way your fuscous skin was glowing under the feathers. Your eyes were enthralling to look up at, such a beautiful color and shape to them. He trailed his eyes over the way your hair was styled, he liked the way it was styled enough to show your pretty necklace on your phosphorescent skin. The necklace looked like it was worth his entire savings, it was beautiful and looked to be designed only for you. Geto was so engraved that he subconsciously patted his chest for his camera hanging off him and quickly snapped a photo of your picture before another event came up.
It’s like the sadness cloud dripped over him and Gojo noticed so he grabbed his shoulders from behind and spoke to him, “ Let’s go there. See who she is, seems like everyone’s interested right?” He just wanted to see some pretty women in beautiful costumes and such; he went to plenty of events just like this one in Roppongi. He was amazed then and he wondered if he’ll be amazed with Vegas showgirls.
They all walked back across the street and stood in front of the beautiful building. Geto felt his veins begin to lump wildly as his body started getting hotter the more he stepped to the ticket window with the other men. His palms were perspiring as he got out his wallet to pay for the tickets. He couldn’t even pay attention to the other men, for some reason he wished and hoped that the woman on the poster was here.
Once they all got in, Sukuna looked at his ticket and walked to the section they were assigned to and Geto realized right then and there, he and the others were at the center seeing everyone on stage. He was glad the show didn't begin until another two minutes, otherwise he’d be pissed they were late. He didn’t even know why he'd be pissed. He paid no mind to Gojo talking about going to the bar afterwards or Nanami saying how he wanted to relax in his custom hot tube in his hotel room. Toji snickered at the two, well three arguing since Shiu called Gojo annoying and Nanami uptight. Hiromi rolled his eyes and couldn’t wait for the show to begin because he too was about to join in if the show didn't hurry up.
“ You didn’t have to come, ya’ know. Nobody likes you but Blockhead over here. And we don’t even like him.”, Gojo says pointing a finger across Nanami at shiu. Nanami wanted to kill himself right there because he was seated next to Gojo and Shiu, two people he found annoying. Shockingly, Shiu more than Gojo.
Shiu rolled his eyes and was about to speak up when Toji spoke instead, “ You act like you didn’t invite us to this stupid trip of yours, you need us asshole, not the other way around.”
“ That’s because I didn’t, Suguru did. He wanted everyone to come so we could enjoy~ a trip with each other.”, Gojo says. Geto rolled his eyes at Gojo’s impersonation of him.
“ You’re lying, I didn’t even s-”, Geto says before the lights turn off.
“ Cut the shit, assholes. The show is starting. Can’t believe I let you imbeciles talk me into this.”, Sukuna says before sipping on the drink he got from the bar a foot away from them.
“ Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome the Saccharine Showgirls!”, the announcer boomed into the speakers of the arena they were in. Geto was glad everyone quieted down as they watched women and men come out in leopard print thongs with no tops, only rhinestones covering their nipples. Nanami was so in tuned that he didn’t care about Hiromi tapping him to get his attention. Atsuya had his mouth opened as he watched them dance with a jungle set in the background. He noticed that half of the crowd was entranced in the show and the other half looked like they were waiting for someone.
Gojo's mouth was watering at the sight of men and women dancing freely, it was art to him especially with how they moved and danced to the beautiful instrumental playing in the background. Toji placed his hand on his print trying to control it as he caught eyes with one of the dancers on stage, she was a nice chick with a nice pair of tits that’s for sure. Shiu cut his call short and watched the show with interest dancing in his eyes. Man, oh man, Choso was eyeing a girl on stage only paying attention to the way her pretty skin lit under the green light casted on them. He needed her in his arms tonight, he didn’t care about anything but that tonight.
Geto, on the other hand, was waiting for you just like half of the audience, well the majority of the audience. He got excited when he heard the announcer speak again, this time saying something he was hoping for, “ Ladies and Gentlemen, the Saccharine Proudly presents Miss {readers first name and last name}.”
When the announcer ended the sentence, smoke rose from the floor and you did as well. You were sitting on a floating leaf, obviously held up by strings. The leopard robe you had on exposed the lining of your tits and your thighs and once you took the robe off your tits were so beautiful, they were littered with silver rhinestones all across them like polka dots, your leopard thongs perfectly outlines your pussy and ass the right way. You were a diamond among crystals. Geto was enamored by you from first glance and now he’s beginning to become obsessed with you. The way your body posed was enough to capture everyone’s attention. Geto noticed that the people on stage including you were very diverse compared to regular shows like this. Women usually need to look fit and have little to no ass in order to play the part, but there were some who did have that on stage. He didn’t really expect it with the main role you’re indulging in.
Everyone he came with was now entranced by the way you stepped off the big leaf and down the stairs filled with green leaves and crystals posed as diamonds. The way you fiercely crossed your arms in front of your chest in the letter v was stunning. You were indeed the star of the show.
Geto sat back and took out his camera, making sure to turn the flash off before snapping pics of you now being picked up by strong, buff men. The men carried you like you were the most delicate person to ever be carried or made. It made his heart warmed and his thoughts spiral. Such a beautiful picture to be taken.
Geto eyes were solely on you just as much as the rest of the men around him. He loved the way you crawled around the stage with seduction reeling from you like a scent. A scent a werewolf gets when he’s in heat or finds his mate. In this case, Geto was the werewolf craving his mate, you. You were perfect for him. The right woman to make him freeze and have him hot at the same time.
Geto snapped a picture of you rolling and swaying your hips while giving the crowd a smile, a bright smile just for a cutie like you. You didn’t let the fact that you didn’t have a flat tummy and small hips get in your way of performing like an actual show girl and he admired that. You were admirable and he had to get a lot of pictures from you to take back to Japan with him. He needed to form a collage of you.
Geto raised the camera and dropped it quickly when he saw you eyeing him with low eyes and a sly smile on your chubby face. You ass was on another woman and your front was on a man, he watched closely at your facial expressions as you body rolled against them to the instrumental music playing. He paid close attention to your leopard and rhinestone eye makeup and rhinestones in your hair, he thought that the accessories and such added to your beauty and he wanted to get close to capture it. Too bad, he’s stuck now. Your eyes were connected to his and he didn’t want to break away from the contact. Too scared to look away from you yet scared to look into your eyes.
Gojo and Sukuna were looking back and forth between you and Geto, smiling wickedly when they saw Geto adam's apple bob and sweat from on his forehead. Thanks to the green light, they could see his sweat drip down his forehead. Gojo was surprised, he never saw his best friend this nervous and Sukuna just wanted to make fun of him for being down bad for a woman.
You did your final twirl and snapped your hands up above your head in a v shape, a smile swimming upon your face with excitement and dare geto think: accomplishment. Once the applause began, Geto felt his hands sting from his hard and loud clapping to your performance. You waved goodbye to the audience and Geto swore prior to the curtains closing that you pointed at him and winked. He looked behind him and didn’t see anybody else blush, it was just a woman talking to her friends, so the question that filled Geto’s mind was if it was for him or not.
Sukuna was the first to get up and walk somewhere else, probably to scoop one of the dancers off their feet and right into his hotel room. Meanwhile everyone else was trying to drink the rest of the drinks they got ordered to the table. Geto was so bewitched by your beauty and movements that he didn’t even know that they ordered drinks, luckily Nanami knew his favorite drink and ordered for him. The guy is a life saver.
Gojo grabbed his things and grabbed Geto’s drink afterwards, handing it to him, “ Thanks, satoru.” After Geto thanked him, he watched as they all turned to him to see if he’s gonna finish it and he did with no problem.
“ Ah I see, she was pointing at you. Lucky son of a bitch.”, Toji says, patting him on the back. “ Might wanna get that boner out before we leave here.” Toji pointed that out like it was a usual thing but it’s not, at least not for Suguru. He knew how to control himself, this was something new for him because getting a boner in public wasn’t like him. ‘What are you doing to me, woman?’, Geto thought in his mind as he covered his boner with his hand over his black baggy pants.
Suguru grabbed his leather jacket and walked by the rest of Shiu and Hiromi, “ Be right back.” Geto needed to find the nearest bathroom fast so he walked until he saw two doors. He went inside to use the bathroom stall and he hoped that would work to get rid of his boner.
While he was in the bathroom, he tried to think of something painful and disgusting, so he envisioned someone’s hairy chest for a minute but his thoughts of you prevailed. You. You. You. You were on his mind from the front, back, and sides. He locked the colors of your nipples into his mind and now he’s back with a boner.
Back at the venue, Sukuna arrived with a pretty dancer on his arm, “ I’ll catch you all tomorrow, me and pretty girl over here are gonna have a great night so don’t disturb us.” The rest looked at him and the woman walked past, chuckling and giggling away. Poor girl doesn’t know what she’s in for. Sukuna’s gonna fuck and leave. This ain’t no second time thing either. He’s the worst one out of all of them. You would suspect Toji would be the one, but surprisingly he isn’t. He’s not a lover boy but he sure isn’t a player like Sukuna.
Gojo looked around prior to turning to Nanami and Kusakabe, “ You two, what time is it?”
They both looked at their watches and spoke at the same time, “ 10:30”
Gojo raised an eyebrow, “ He was supposed to be here now, what is he jerking off in the bathroom or something?”
Toji chuckled to himself and raised a twirling finger to his brain, poking fun at Geto, “ Maybe he’s lost… or… or maybe he’s fucking one of the dancers”
Shiu added, “ Yes, because jerking off shouldn’t take no more than 5 minutes.”
They all stopped and turned to him, even Choso who was speaking with the girl he was eyeing on stage. She was a pretty girl too, skin like mocha and pretty eyes and tits. Choso was a fool for both of those, maybe even all three, but that’s not the point here. He was the first to speak, “ Five minutes?!! That's short.”
Everyone agreed except for Shiu. He was standing his ground on this.
Concurrently, Geto was stopped by you passing by him as he walked out the bathroom, boner still hurting and semi hard now. It felt like he was a horny teenager again and he didn’t like this at all. He needed you. So so bad. He got pulled out of his mind when you stopped in front of him, so now his back was to the closed bathroom door.
He trailed his eyes from your hair and down to your pretty feet. He was stunned to see you in front of him with a pink robe on and underneath you had on a see through bodysuit, your boobs were protruding through the body suit and he wanted so badly to, “ Rip it off you”.
You smiled at him, “ Buy me a drink first, pretty. I’m high class.” His eyes widened when you spoke to him because that would mean he said that out loud. He hurried and waved his hand, “ No, No, that wasn’t my in-”
You placed your pretty acrylic nail on his lips, quickly shutting his mouth, “ Ah ah Ah, lemme have this moment, honey. Plus, you and I both know it was your intention, especially with that dark, lascivious look in your pretty brown eyes.”
Geto was wrapped around your finger now. It was like he was falling prey to a dark seductress with the way your soothing voice slid in his ears like your voice was an ice skater on ice slipping and sliding. You were dangerous but luckily for you and him, he loved danger. Only when he feigns for disruption and chaos. That’s why he loves his job. His job as an executive and construction worker.
He gulped when you walked closer, standing chest to chest with him, “ what do ya say we get out of here, honey pie. Wanna make a drink at my house, it’s not that far off the grid, your choice.”
Geto felt like his dick was about to burst in his pants he had on and felt like his skin was sticking to the black shirt he had on, it was hot as hell in here and he needed to get out of here, but he’ll take you with him, “ Got a bar?” The smirk made its way onto his face as he kept eye contact with you.
You broke eye contact first and walked him into your dresser room, the remaining girls that were packing up all cheered you on as you waved your hand in a playful manner at their childishness. You dragged him in and closed the door. Geto watched in awkwardness at you packing up your stuff and grabbing your bags to hand to him, “ Gotta name, pretty boy? Wanna know what name I shall be screaming tonight.”
Geto’s eyes widened, “ Suguru. Suguru is what you may call or scream out, your choice pretty girl.” He watched you smile back at him as you put on a white chinchilla coat now.
“ Warming up to me now, huh. Your voice is such a killer, I’m sure the next girl you be with is gonna love ya. You from around here or no?”, You asked as you walked past him— putting your Dior sunglasses on while he walked behind you with your bags.
Suguru followed you, forgetting about the men he came with for a second, “ Shit, I have t-” his phone rang just in time. He held it to his ear as he saw you take out a lighter for your blunt you pulled out of a case filled with rolled up blunts, “ Hello?”
“ Suguru, where the hell are you? I’m still here with Toji and Nanami waiting on you! The rest are probably getting laid right now, something I should be doing instead I’m Here!”, Gojo screams into the phone making Geto hold the phone away from his ear making you giggle.
You walked up to him blowing the smoke in his direction, your expensive perfume mixed with his expensive cologne from Mercedes Benz and the lingering smell of weed intoxicated him. You placed an arm around his neck and took his phone away from him to hold it up to your ear, “ Hello gentlemen, Suguru is gonna be occupied for some hours, reach out to him in the morning will ya’? Don’t worry, he’ll be back with you in one piece.” You looked into his eyes— sticking your tongue out to lick both of his lips, “ I promise.”
Suguru licked his lips to taste the little amount of saliva you gave him— grabbing his phone from your hands as he heard Toji yelling in the background with Gojo screaming into the phone, both cheering him on since he hasn't gotten laid since August 2023, it’s now 2024. That’s a long time to be celibate, for him.
You watched Suguru put his phone away and grabbed his hand dragging him along to your ( color of your choosing) custom-made Rolls Royce. You put the blunt out in your ashtray as soon as you got into your car. Geto put your bags in the backseat and turned his head once he was about to get in the front seat to see the men he came with either smirking, smiling or eyeing the car with curiosity. Gojo was proud and a little jealous of you and him. He wanted to join both of you so he can fuck both of you but there’s always a next time. You were beautiful on billboards and in person, such a Star.
During the ride to your house, you were teasing Geto by putting your hand on his thighs as you drove with one hand on the wheel. He sucked in a breath when your acrylic nails trailed up his baggy pants and up to where his zipper was just staying there as he told you about how he’s from Tokyo,Japan, how he’s 34 years old, his job occupation, etc. really the basics and you told him about yourself as well.
Once you two made it past the gates with the first letter of your name in bold font, his mouth widened at the big mansion coming into view. The house was bigger than he had ever seen, yet when he looked over he saw you smile at him before parking the car, “ Let’s go, pretty boy. Make me a drink and then you can do whatever you want to me, free game or free use. You choose. Tonight I’m yours.”
Geto did, in fact, make the drink for you. Surprisingly, he was very great at making drinks at your bar. Great enough to be sucking on your neck as he had his arms wrapped around your full-figure. His leather jacket and shirt are long gone. Your Chinchilla coat and bodysuit was scattered on your living room floor as well. You two were on the couch with you on top— kissing each other sloppily. Geto’s tongue was wet and thick inside of your mouth filled with saliva already. The taste of the liquor on both of your tongues as they swap over each other like two people playing tug of war.
“ Mm Suguru, need more… fuck me like you mean it and it’s your last night here in the US.”, you moaned in between the hot kiss you two were sharing now. Geto felt your hands rub over his arm and back tattoo. His piercing in his lip and the inside of his mouth added on to both of your pleasures right now. He needed you just as much as you needed him.
Suguru suddenly pulled away from the kiss with a loud exhale falling, “ Upstairs or here?” You smiled at him and pushed your head in between his neck and shoulder, nibbling on his neck, “ Here… wanna fuck in view of the city lights from here.”
Geto smirked to himself before trailing his hands up and down, memorizing every roll and art of flesh you had on the top half of your body. His hand were even better than the massages trainers spend years to train on. You loved the coolness of his rings on your supple flesh. As he carrasssed your body, you traced your tongue over his neck vein causing him to let out the most prettiest moan you ever heard. You lifted your head and smiled at him, “ That was your sweet spot huh, right where your vein was. So interesting.”
“ ha ha, you’re making it sound like I’m your top discovery for your research, dr. { first name}.”, Geto playfully resorted while looking at you with a different glint than the dark eyes he had before— filled with lust.
“ And what if you are, Mr.Suguru. My title is ‘The sexiest man I've ever seen tells us where his sweet spot is, find out where below?’ Isn’t that how them gossip research blogs be and etc.”, You said as your finger started to trail down his chest to his nipples, lingering your finger there, “ Wanna find out the details on how I came up with this evidence?”
Geto ears and nose were beginning to become a pink blush color and he cleared his throat to get rid of his love thoughts, telling himself that this is just a one night stand. He took your lips onto his again— cupping the fat of your ass in between his thick, pretty fingers. The contrast of your body was beautiful to him and he wished he had Satoru here to take pictures with his camera while he sat on the couch beside you two.
The smacking of your lips kissing each other was so beautiful, especially with the pants in between the sexual kiss. The turns of your head made it seem like you two were in a movie, a movie based on kissing and the different types. Right now, your type was slow and sensual. Suguru’s lips were so soft against your glossy lips. Your flavored gloss added on to the savoring of what you tasted like. It’s gonna be stuck in the back of Geto’s head just like the scent of your perfume and your gorgeous eyes.
Geto broke the kiss and placed his hand on your cheek, “ You’re a doll, a delicate one. Also one I want to break so give me full access, my doll.” You smiled and nodded— tapping you to get up, Geto moved your table. He moved the glass table with a statue of a man bent on all fours holding the glass surface up by his back. He’ll ask to take pictures of that as well because it was so beautiful.
Once he moved the table, he sat down on the carpet and raised his index and middle finger to bring you forth to him. You immediately went over to him and positioned your body over his— your panties were soaking now as you eagerly unzipped his pants and pulled them down with the help of him lifting his own hips, ultimately rubbing his thick and hard print over your pussy making you let out a small whimper. He wiggled and moved around when he was kicking his pants off and everytime he did, he brushed against you. So now both of you are in your underwear, taking each other's breaths away.
Your hands ran down his body— from his neck to his hand of his underwear, teasing and ghosting your fingers over it, “ Wanna take pictures of you, Mr. Suguru and then you can take as many pictures of me. Many as you want. Only for you to keep in your little photo album of me. Knew you were taking pictures of me and me only, so why not now as well when I ride you.”
“ Wasn't it really discreet huh? Fine, you can take pictures of me, but h-Ahem, excuse me, how will yo-”, Suguru cleared his throat before you reached to grab his camera off the couch. You leaned back a little and he immediately wrapped his arms tightly around your waist like he was scared of you falling back or was he scared of being away from you already. He hated this feeling because he had no reason to feel like this about a stranger, but were you really a stranger?
You positioned the camera in front of your face and took a picture of his face and then zoomed in on his features that stood out to you: his eyes, side labret lip ring, nose. You even leaned back to take a picture with your nails on his slender but big chest. Afterwards, you brought the camera out of your face to smile at him, “ You’re so beautiful, honey pie.”
Geto's eyes widened a bit and his cheeks were dusted with red. He looked away from you, but you caught his chin in your hands and kissed him on the lips. Soon your kiss turned into something more heated as your tongues danced over each other in a slow seductive dance.
Your hips grinded on his dick causing him to groan inside of your mouth. While you were grinding on him, you pulled your panties to the side, but he stopped you and ripped them from the back. You gasped at him and narrowed your eyes, “ You’re bu-”.
His lips linger against yours while he whispers, “ I know.”
Your pussy was pulsing for his cock and you wanted it so bad but he planned to tease you some more by gliding his slender but girthy fingers over your pussy from behind. Your body shuddered against him and your grip on his biceps were telling him everything he needed to know: you’re sensitive. “ Geto.. please.”
“ Tell me what you want, baby doll.”, Suguru said as he moved his hand back in the front, in between your legs. His fingers were a ghost over the opening of your pussy, playfully tapping your pussy as he waited for your response.
“ You know what I want!”, You shouted, rolling your hips closer to his fingers. He looked down between you two and laughed to himself. He looked up and smirked, “ Need to hear you say it.”
“ Give me your fucking fingers or so hel- aahhh fuck!”, you couldn’t even finish your sentence because Geto shoved two fingers inside of you, curling them up inside of you.
Your head flew back when he grazed your g spot, “ Feel that, looks like you’re building up to cum, darling. Let’s test how many fingers we can add before your sensitive ass collapses just off my two fingers barely doing anything.”
You huffed out a cloud of air, “ Needd your cock badly. Wanna feel every vein of yours. Also, take them off honey.” You gripped his underwear band trying to take it off before he thrusted his fingers inside of you at a much faster pace. The squelches of your wetness was gathering around in a huddle waiting to be heard. The sound grew louder and louder at the same time you squirmed around trying to get away from his fingers fucking you so good inside.
“ Wait a moment, pretty girl. Need to watch you plead for me to put my cock inside of this wet and sloppy pussy of yours.”, Geto said, now twisting his hand up and down in your pussy. He added three fingers and you went wild.
Your body shook against him as you tried to rock your hips back and forth to chase your orgasm, “ Fuck, fuck… wait, I can do it. I can do it.” Geto shook his head and some of his hair fell out of his ponytail and as for you, you were trying to form sentences yet his fingers speeding up again weren't letting you. Geto loved that his fingers were coaxed in your wetness and your tight pussy was wrapped deliciously around his fingers.
“ P-pl-fuck! Please put your dick in me. I feel weird right now and I don’t know why so please put it in. Please. Please. Please.”, You moaned like you were a bitch in heat ready to be taken by her mate. You never thought you’d beg like this but here you are.
Geto hurried and slid his underwear down his thighs and stopped it at his knees, “ Sounds so beautiful begging for me. Want to see you crying for me now.” Geto kissed you while taking his hands out of your pussy, wet fingers gripping and molding your ass. Your ass felt so good and now he needed your pussy around his cock.
Geto grabbed his dick with one of his hands and lined it up with your pulsing, wet hole prior to pushing inside of your exquisite pussy—dropping his head back, “ Shit! Fucking Heaven.”
“ Fucking piercing on your dick! Shit, it feels so cold and warm at the same timeeee, aahhh.”, You said, sinking further inside of him, letting his frenum piercing smooth itself along your walls. It’s like you were feeling every vein pulsing as he was swallowed in your walls.
“ Holy fuck, your p- fuck! Your pussy is so fucking good and greedy. She’s taking all of me even if the owner of this pussy is crying— pretty little tears falling down her gorgeous face is turning me on so much. Wanna see you sobbing on my cock now. Hold onto me.”, Geto said as he wrapped his arms around your waist, crossing them over each other to grip onto your love handles.
You didn’t even notice the hot tears pouring down your face as he stretched your hole to the shape of his cock. You were trying to roll your hips but his cock hurts so good inside of you. He was fucking wide and long inside of your pussy. Felt like one of those monster dildos you saw at the sex store once. “ Sh-uhnnnn. Give it to me now, Sugu. Wan’ more!”
Geto groped your love handles and lifted you up and down with the help of you lifting your hips as well. You were working as a team rather than just you working to get men off. It’s like he just wanted to give you pleasure and that scared you because it was always the opposite for you. You gave the pleasure without even reaching your own pleasure and desires.
Geto moaned into your mouth as his teeth carefully bit your bottom lip, “ Doing so well for me, doll. And you- hnnhhh- feel so damn good wrapped around me, wanna stay in you forever now.”
You started to bounce your ass faster, the sound of your ass hitting his thighs were heard around the spacious living room, “ Uuhnn I think I feel something in my lower stomach, it hurts.”
Geto smirked as he heard you finish your sentence. You didn’t know what an orgasm is or you didn’t know how much a big cock like his can fill you up. What a discovery. A sensation like yourself should know about orgasms and such. Geto wanted to curse the men you had before him and he also wanted to thank them because now you were about to be attached to him just as he was with you already.
Geto pulled away from sucking your lips and watched as you bit your lip whilst taking him inside of your weeping pussy. He eyed your tears falling down your face nonstop, “ fucking art. Fucking beautiful.” He hurried to grab the camera from the side of you two and shakily pressed the button to snap photos of you bouncing up and down on his cock. Some were gonna be blurry, yet he didn’t care in the slightest. Not when you were fluttering your pretty little walls around his cock, signifying that you are about to cum. He wanted to see you cum in this position but he had another one in mind.
Geto suddenly stopped moving causing you to let out the cutest whine he ever heard, “ Whyyy did you stop?!” Geto chuckled and decided to not answer your question, rather just show you. He tapped you and you shakily lifted up with your thighs and legs shakily viciously. Damn you were that close to cumming. Now he really has to hurry and put you in a position he wanna’ try.
Geto laid down sideways on the carpet holding his pierced dick with his right hand, “ Lay down in front of me, baby.” You were gobsmacked because what was he tryna do? He continued, “ Facing me.”
You hesitantly crawled to him and laid down in front of him with your pussy touching his jumping cock. He lifted your small double chin up and kissed you at the same time his hand was sliding down to hide his dick inside of you. You and his moans were muffled as you two sloppily kissed one another with spit dripping down your mouths like water dripping from an air conditioner from outside of the window it’s in .
Your mascara and makeup was beginning to smear and he didn’t mind, in fact, he was gonna add it to his photo album he was making of you. His cock started it fuck into you slowly just as you laid your hand on his face, holding onto him the best way you can. His creamy and smooth skin was beautiful to you. Fuck, he was gorgeous and you found yourself wanting to see him again after this but that was only a wish.
Geto pulled away to stare at your facial expressions as he snapped his hips forward causing your boobs and stomach to snap with his pace. Everything on your body was moving as he gripped your ass while pistoling inside of you like a mad man. Your pussy was clenching and unclenching him as he moved in and out. “ fuck, yeah. You're gripping the shit out my cock, honey. You fucking love this shit, don’t cha’? Hmm.”
You lifted your leg up and around his waist, “ fuck yes, I love every ahhhnn inch of this dick. I feel that fucking thing inside of my stomach again.” You leaned back a little and put your hand between where the two of your stomachs were connected, laying a hand on where it hurts good at. Geto placed his hand where you have yours, laying it on top of yours. “ Must be my dick… or maybe, you are about to have your very first orgasm, am I right?”
You diverted your eyes and he brought his hand back to where he had it, slapping your ass. The loud smack filling the room and making you moan. Geto loved hearing your cries and moans, “ don’t fucking take your attention away from me, understand? Need you to focus on me even in embarrassment. In anger. In sadness. Etc. I just want your attention. All of it.”
Your pussy squirted a little once he slapped your ass again or maybe his words made you squirt. You couldn’t tell. “ fuck fineee. M’ gonna, m’ gonna cum. Fu-uhhnnnnnn.”
Geto balls slapping your ass was adding too much onto your pleasure and you had to cum on his cock. His cock and pelvis was wet from you squirting on his dick a little and now he was sure a ring of white cream of yours was forming, “ cum for me, darling. Release the knot formed inside of you and cum on my cock.”
Geto suddenly moved his body so you were on your back with one leg in the air. He held it up as he drove his dick inside of your creamy cunt, moving his eyes back and forth from where you two were connected and your face as you moaned and screamed out pleasure cries.
“ Let you cum before me, yet you thought we were gonna stop. Nah, that’s not how this goes with me, doll. Need to make you cum as many times as I can.”, Geto said snapping his hips into you during the time of his fingers bruising up the thigh he held, “ Such a pretty and fucksble pussy, could go all night long.”
“ Shit, ohhh fuck. I can’t.. I can’t. Please cum inside of me. It feels too good. Need you to fill me up.”, You say, not noticing what exactly you were saying. You were about to jeopardize your career because, after all, pregnant show girls are not sexy or appropriate. But the other part of your mind says you didn’t care because you were on birth control. So fuck it. Your mind was beginning to go blank anyways.
Geto chuckles, “ Shit, you don’t know what you’re asking for, but since I’m the- uuuhhh- gentleman I am. Gonna give it to you.” Geto dropped your leg and started to fuck into you as you mindlessly took every inch he had. He wasn’t letting up as the smacks of skin slamming together was beginning to grow sloppier and louder.
He heard your babbles by the time his mind was gone and his cock was doing the thinking for him. His balls slapping your skin as the wetness of your pussy gushing out on his dick was enough to send his head back as his throat belt out a loud moan, the loudest he ever did as thick ropes of his cum filled you up, “ Ahhh fuck, yes yes. Such a good girl taking all of me and letting me fill you up with my babies. Fuck!”
Your pussy was tired and weared out and your cries echoed off the walls. Your muscle nerves were shaking causing your entire body to shake with goosebumps lathering your skin. You couldn’t see or hear anything as you came and squirted on his dick at the same time, gaining a whimper from Geto. Geto laid on top of your body and stayed there for a minute while his cock filled you up to the brim. For you, darkness soon took over as you fell into a deep sleep. It was all too much for you and Geto knew he had you now. His muse. His art. His obsession.
“ We’re not done, doll face. I wasn’t celibate for that long to stop now.”, Geto says with his hair sticking to his face due to perspiration.
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ᰔᩚ ━ Tagging: @dejwrld @honeybleed @simpingfor-wakasa @mastermindenoshimaalicia @happygoluckyalexis and anyone else who wants to be tagged
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yanaromanov · 3 months
Text
pretty little beginnings
- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader
part summary: the start of the new semester sees you reunited with your best friend, kate, but also introduces you to your surprisingly gorgeous new professor. when you get a perfect score on her first class test, she’s keen to have a conversation with you…
part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, reader is a perfectionist, minors dni.
authors note: i have no idea about america or their universities so am purely basing this off my own experience at my uk university, so if anything is incorrect i apologise but also let’s just pretend it’s not :)
part one of the inescapable love series
inescapable love masterlist
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・ 。゚*. 18+, minors DNI . * 。゚・
7.8K words
The beginning of term was always one of your favourite points of the whole year. To most, returning to campus after summer was somewhat of a bittersweet moment, having to come back to the reality of long classes and endless studying. For you, however, it was the start of something new, a fresh look at different courses that hadn’t yet bundled up into countless assignments or exams. The start of term always carried the least amount of pressure and therefore, the least amount of anxiety. Everything was starting from page one again, and it always provided you with a few weeks of sweet relief before you’d once again inevitably realise just how stressful school truly was.
Aside from the pressure of classes, most of your peers also found sorrow in the end of their summer break visiting home and their families. For you, however, this wasn’t one of your mind’s concerns. In fact, the trip back to university provided solace, a well-deserved partition between the people who you’d spent the past few months trying to tolerate.
Now, to say your family were awful to be around would be overstating things, in truth they weren’t all that bad, but spending summer with them was certainly not on your list of dream holidays. Most days you hid away in your childhood bedroom, trying to avoid the bickering voice of your mother, persistently droning on about school and your grades. She’d always taken a great pride in her children and that had certainly extended to you, her ideologies of perfection constantly looming over your shoulder. Your dad liked to drink, not enough to endanger his health but enough to wake you a few nights a week when he’d stumble around the kitchen in a drunken stupor. This itself was rather a hypocrisy, your dad being the one who dragged everyone to church on a Sunday morning to praise the Christian values when it seemed the holy day was the only one he didn’t seek out the bottle. At least now you were thankful that Sunday was the only day you had to deal with your older brother, when he’d join the rest of your family at service. For years, his perfection had been a constant reminder of how you were the disappointing child, despite attending one of the most prestigious universities in America.
In fact, your family was one of the main reasons you had even applied there. Not, as one may think, to appeal to their standards, but in fact, because it was about as far away as possible you could get from them. England was your home country, growing up in a small town in the southern parts of the land. Moving to America had been a big deal, having to completely relocate your life to an entirely different part of the world, but it had been something you desperately needed. At first your mother had been hesitant to let you go at all, but once she’d heard the ranking of the school you’d earned a scholarship for, she was all for having a daughter at a prestigious university in the states.
So, that was how you ended up here, already three years into your university career with only one to go until graduation. Living in America had been just the step you’d needed, finally giving you space from your overbearing family and in the process, also gifting you with one of the closest friends you’d ever had. Kate had been the first friendly face you’d seen at your new school, smiling widely as you’d first stepped into your shared dorm and energetically shaking your hand. Ever since, the pair of you had been practically inseparable, growing closer and closer everyday, and three years later, you still found yourselves sharing a dorm room.
Despite Kate’s skills in friendship, there was one thing about her that one may call a character flaw; the inability to ever wake up on time. It was the first official day of the semester, a few weeks having passed since the two of you had had your happy reunion and redecorated your shared room. The sun shone through the curtains which you had opened almost an hour ago. In all honesty, it was quite impressive how Kate had managed to not only sleep through your alarm, but hers as well. Atop of that, you’d not taken the curtesy to get yourself ready in a quiet manner. Now however, Kate really needed to wake up.
A tress of black hair flew up in the gust of wind that the pillow brought along with it. Moments later, Kate was sitting up quickly, cursing out at you for throwing at her in the first place. You chuckled at her antics as she tried to wipe away the hairs clinging to her mouth. “You overslept, Bishop,” you called, voice light and playful.
Kate scowled back at you, finally free from the mess of her bed head. Seconds later, you were dodging the pillow flying back across the room towards you.
“Hey!” you called back, narrowly missing getting hit in the head. “You’re the one who told me to wake you up, remember? You said this was the year you were getting your shit together.”
Kate’s expression was nothing short of unimpressed. She let out a loud groan as she threw herself back down into the confines of her bed, bringing her hands up to hold her face. “Can we reschedule that to next year instead?”
The chuckle that left your lips was light. “You know there is no next year.”
Your hands reached out towards her, grabbing hold of her duvet and ripping it from her bed. A small scream escaped Kate’s lips as she desperately tried to rescue the cover, albeit she arose unsuccessful. You passed her a small smirk as you threw the duvet to the floor. “If you’re not ready in five minutes, I’m going for breakfast without you.”
The girl passed you a none-too-happy glare but eventually settled on rolling out of bed, groaning loudly as she fell ungraciously to the floor. Simply laughing off her antics, you moved towards the full length mirror that hung in your dorm to check your outfit one last time. The warm weather still clung to the September air, resulting in the floral summer dress you’d adorned for the day, a small white cardigan sat atop of it. As always, your worn-in converse sat upon your feet, tattered from the years they’d spent traversing you to class.
American weather was just another one of the things you loved about living in the states. Summer in England was sticky and gross, the house always too hot, lacking AC and unbearable to sleep in at night. You’d always end up tossing and turning, sweat sticking the shorts to your body. Every street smelled like disposable barbecues and there never seemed to be enough ice in the shops to cool your drink. Overall, it was a rather uncomfortable experience. But Summer in America was a whole different story. It felt like the movies when they’d jump out of school on the last day, sun shining down on top of them. It was warm outside, and you could enjoy the sun before slinking back to a cool room with beautiful air conditioning, rather than you’d dad’s old fan that was louder than an airplane flying overhead.
“Are you almost done?” You finally turned away from your reflection, glancing across the room to where Kate was pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail. She’d dressed in a pair of old shorts and tshirt, obviously forgoing the ritual you’d followed of dressing cute on the first day.
“Yep,” Kate replied breathlessly, moving to put on her trainers, hopping around the room as she pulled them on. Once they sat upon her feet, she stood upright and looked at you with a dopey smile. “Okay, let’s go.”
You smiled shamelessly back, opening the door to your dorm in order for the pair of you to venture out. Kate simply passed you a small thanks as she slipped out into the corridor, followed closely by you after locking up your room. Thankfully, most days you left together as Kate never seemed to remember that crucial step.
———
“Wait, so you’re actually taking Russian this year?”
Your eyes rolled as the question rung out. “Kate, we’ve talked about this so many times.”
The girl shrugged her shoulders. “I just don’t get why you’d take a random language, that’s all.”
A sigh escaped your lips as you watched Kate take a bite of some scrambled eggs. As she did most mornings, she’d chosen to load her plate up from the breakfast trays, paired perfectly with a full glass of orange juice and a large mug of coffee. On the other hand, you’d only had a slice of toast, simply buttered, then a coffee of a similar size that you’d already downed. For someone who liked to attend meals so close to classes, one would expect Kate to choose smaller portions that she could maybe finish without shoving it in her mouth two minutes before she had to leave.
“I told you, Kate,” you repeated with another sigh. “I had to pick up some credits and the only thing that fit with my timetable was either Russian or a programming class.”
Your face screwed up at the last words you uttered, the idea of such a thing enough to turn your nose up. Kate could have taken some offence, considering her major was computer science and she was in such programming class, but it seemed she was too focused on finishing her half-eaten eggs.
“I thought you said there was a Spanish class you could take?” Kate said, talking around a mouthful of food.
Your eyes rolled in your skull, not only at her actions but at the fact she’d only remembered that small detail of your previous conversation. “There was,” you replied, crossing your arms on the table. “But I just thought Russian sounded more interesting.”
Kate raised a brow as you shrugged a shoulder. She didn’t have much time to judge you however, as you checked your phone to see there was only a few minutes until your first classes. Kate scrambled to finish the food on her plate as you collected your things, downing the rest of her coffee before pulling her backpack on to her shoulders. In the end, she had to run after you out of the dining hall after you’d already left, not letting yourself be late because of her antics.
The pair of you walked across campus together, Kate branching off to her first class and promising to meet up at lunch. You continued on to the building in which your timetable indicated your Russian class would be held. It was all rather new to you, a building you’d never been in before on campus. You supposed it fit with the class that you’d be taking now, stepping into something entirely new.
Thankfully, you found the lecture hall quickly, not discouraged by your unfamiliar surroundings. A lot of the seats were already filled up, the class just a few minutes from starting. You found a space down near the front, a usual spot for you in your determination to never miss anything a lecturer was saying, persistent on never having a blank spot in your notes.
The remaining minutes passed as you set yourself up for the class, pulling out your notebook and pen and setting them neatly on the desktop. Remaining students filed in, filling up what had to be one of the smaller lecture theatres on campus. It seemed there were barely thirty students who had decided to take the class, a small number compared to your usual large English lit course.
Noise bubbled in the room as the clock ticked by. At the exact second the hour struck, a door to the left opened wide.
“Good morning. If you could all settle down now, please. I need to take attendance.”
All attention fell upon the person who walked through the door, silence befalling the room as their voice echoed through the hall. As your eyes lifted from the scribbles on your notebook, they too sought out your new professor, but what they found was certainly not what you had been expecting at all.
The woman that approached the desk at the centre of the room was perhaps the most gorgeous you’d ever seen. Her hair fell perfectly in cascading curls, a brilliant red draped across her back. She wore a pair of black slacks, paired with a light blue dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. Her heels clicked meticulously across the polished wood as she set a laptop down at the centred desk, opening it up and glancing down at the screen.
It seemed you were not the only person affected by this woman’s presence as the entire hall fell silent as she began to call register. Most professors at this school were old men, droning on about things tirelessly. Even when presented with a female professor, none ever compared to the power and lure that this woman seemed to radiate across the class.
Once she’d finished calling names and assured everyone was marked down correctly, the red-haired woman moved towards the front of her desk, leaning back against it as a pair of arms came to cross over her chest. Your eyes found particular interest in the very expensive looking watch that sat upon her left wrist.
“Okay, my name is Professor Romanoff, as you have probably seen on your timetables. I will be your teacher for this class on introductory Russian.”
All ears seemed to be on the professor as she spoke, her voice confident in the space it held.
“I will start off by saying that this class is not easy so if you have taken it for that reason, I suggest perhaps changing.”
A tight smile appeared on a pair of red painted lips as the professor continued talking, the curtness behind it clear.
“This class is not impossibly difficult but it is certainly not a free ride. Anybody who treats it as such, is likely to fail.”
You weren’t sure what it was, maybe something in the air, but your attention seemed to cling to everything that fell out of the professors mouth, practically drinking up every word that she said. Your eyes found themselves particularly focused on her lips, adorning a shade of red so perfectly you even questioned if they were naturally that colour.
Professor Romanoff continued to rattle off expectations for the class, bringing up exam dates and testing styles before discussing an outline of everything the class would cover. Your pen jotted down everything she said, almost working faster than your brain could keep up, that ever persistent need to be perfect taking over once more, just like it did every time the new semester rolled back around.
Overall, the class seemed to be mostly an introduction. Professor Romanoff outlined specific topics you’d cover, before beginning to teach the difference between the English and Russian alphabets. Whatever it was she said, every word was jotted down into your notebook with persistent attentiveness.
The class seemed to pass by quickly, the order to pack up echoing out earlier than you thought it would, but with a quick glance at your phone, you realised that an entire hour had indeed passed. You tidied up your belongings, throwing them all into the old backpack you carried about everywhere, then got up to follow the crowd out of the lecture theatre. Your mind found itself satisfied with the enjoyment of the class, finding everything taught very interesting. Some part of you even found yourself somewhat excited for the next time you’d dawn the building and Professor Romanoff’s class.
———
“So how was it?”
Kate’s words were out of her mouth before you’d even sat down at the table, delayed in joining her by a few minutes due to your English professor droning on too long in his lecture. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally set yourself down at the dining table, throwing your backpack underneath as you looked over at your friend.
“How was what?”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Your Russian class,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing ever said.
“Oh, right,” you replied, reaching for the cutlery on your tray and using it to begin cutting the omelette you’d picked up for lunch. “It was good.”
Kate raised a brow, obviously more curious than your answer could satisfy. “Just good ?”
You nodded in response, raising a single shoulder. “Yeah, good. It was really interesting.”
Kate hummed, taking a bite of the chicken burger she’d chosen for lunch. Like she often did, the girl spoke around her food to ask you another question. “How was the professor? Some old Russian guy?”
Unsure of exactly why, it felt like your heart gave a little flutter when Kate mentioned the professor, maybe it had something to do with the way you’d spent most of the lesson staring at her and thinking how beautiful she was. “Uhm, no actually,” you replied, taking a small bite of your food. “It was a woman. Quite young looking too.”
Kate’s interest seemed to be piqued, a single brow raised. “How young?”
You shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know how young. Like, thirties? I don’t know.” You shrugged again, unsure of how exactly to answer her question.
The girl across from you hummed. You could tell why it was a suprise to her, it had been to you too when you’d first laid eyes on your new teacher. Most professors at this university were very good at what they did, but that often came with the experiences of age. A younger professor was an uncommon sight.
“What was her name?” Kate asked, still chewing another bite of her burger.
“Romanoff.”
Kate hummed. “And she was any good?”
“Yeah,” you replied lightly, trying not to think too hard about the way her red hair had formed perfect curls. “She seems a little strict but she’s a good teacher.”
“Well, that’s always good I suppose.”
From there, Kate seemed to become disinterested in the professor, instead moving on to discuss a cute girl she’d seen in her programming class. You’d asked more questions but the pair of you knew Kate would never do anything about any crush she had, she would get far too nervous and stumble over all of her words any time she tried to talk to anyone. Many times you’d watched her fail to flirt with someone drunkly at a party, accidentally blurting out something stupid that caused the other person to turn away. Each time you’d end up giving her a pat on the back and assuring her she’d get the next one, both of you secretly knowing it probably wasn’t true. Nevertheless, it was fun to fantasise about cute people you saw on campus and Kate often liked to share all the things she’d like to do with someone if she could actually talk to them.
Your conversation slowly passed on to other things, talking over activities you both did over summer, but sooner than you’d like, the time came for you to both head to your next classes. You both packed up your things, tidying away your lunch trays before heading out of the dining hall and across campus, Kate giving you a very dramatic goodbye before disappearing into her coding class and you slipped away to criminology, some part of your mind still clinging on to the idea of alabaster skin and perfect red curls.
———
The semester kicked off quickly and before you knew it, you were already three weeks in. Your time had been spent flitting between your classes, keeping consistent with your notes and readings. That fresh term feeling still resided within you, positivity and interest radiating through you in each of your courses. Though your creative writing class remained your favourite, your new Russian elective had quickly climbed the charts to take spot number two. Something about the language simply drew you in, perhaps how different it was to English, but every class seemed to suck you in entirely and leave you eagerly awaiting the next one.
Through Kate’s complaining, you were exceedingly glad that you didn’t pick her programming class, the professor apparently loading far too much work on his students. Though, you were never sure how much of the complaints could simply be down to Kate’s dramatics. The pair of you continued to spend your free moments in each other’s company, talking over every meal and studying in the library. You made the most of the disappearing sun, basking in the last of the summer warmth on the campus lawn, your head stuck in a book while Kate napped next to you.
You’d also easily picked up your part time job once more, the manager of the campus coffee shop reminded of your hard work the past three years. The job itself was usually rather tiring, filling up your weekends and free mornings, but it paid for your food so you knew it was a necessity. Thankfully, the lingering warmth had meant the shop had remained rather quite so far, not too many people racing for a hot coffee while the sun still shone down from above. Your experience however, let you know that in just another few weeks, you’d have to pick up the pace and things would get increasingly harder as the temperature began to drop. Yet, for now you basked in the calmness that the summer brought. But one person in particular seemed determined to change that.
Kate stumbled around the room, grabbing different outfits from the closet and trying them on, before deciding they were no good and tossing them on to the floor. She’d never been a very quiet person getting ready, usually singing along to whatever band she found interesting that month, but at that exact moment, you wished she’d sometimes find a slightly calmer routine.
Your head hurt, most likely from dehydration. It had been a long afternoon shift at the coffee shop and it seemed summer was giving everyone one grand goodbye, bringing the temperatures soaring and consequently, leaving you with a very sweaty shift. Now you were back in the dorm, showered and in some light pjs, hoping to finally get started on the work you’d been thinking about all day. But someone seemed destined to distract you. Your eyes fell to Kate, desperately trying to find a top to match the current skirt she was wearing. “I hope you’re gonna clean that up,” you said, glancing at the mess of clothes on the floor.
“‘Course I will,” Kate replied, pulling another top from a drawer. “Ugh, why does nothing look right!”
You glanced once again to the girl, taking in her current appearance. “Wear the silver top,” you said nonchalantly.
Kate began rummaging in the drawer, knowing what you had meant and what to look for. She pulled the top out and tried it on, looking at herself in the mirror and letting out a pleased hum. “Looks good, thanks.”
She passed you a grateful smile and you simply passed one in return, merely thankful that she’d stopped making such a fuss while you were trying to work. Your body turned back towards your desk, eyes falling back on to the open notebook in front of you.
“I really can’t convince you to come tonight?” Kate’s voice whined as she touched up her makeup in the mirror. “It’s always super boring without you.”
“I told you already,” you replied, not looking up from your notes. “I can’t go to a party, I have to study.”
Kate sighed loudly. “What are you even studying for? It’s only the third week!”
“My Russian class. I have a test on Monday.”
Your roommate blew a gust of air from her mouth, the repel evident. “You still have all of tomorrow to study.”
“You’re right, I do. And I intend to use all the time I have.”
Despite still looking at your notes, you could see the eye roll Kate gave you. “Whatever, loser,” she called, grabbing a bag to take with her. From behind, you could hear her pulling on a pair of heels, which would probably end up in her hands before the night was done. “I’ll try be quite coming in,” she said, reaching for the door.
“Keys?”
“Shit.”
The noise of scrambling filled the dorm once more as Kate rummaged about in her backpack for her set of keys, an item so frequently forgotten about. You heard them jingle in her hands before being slipped into her purse. Then, she said her actual goodbyes and slid out of the room, finally leaving you to study in peace. You released a relieved sigh as silence fell back over the room and you allowed your eyes to scan the Russian letters and grammar scribbled out across your paper. Whatever party Kate was venturing to that night, it wouldn’t be the thing to keep you from studying, your mind entirely focused on the terminologies written in your notes and determined to commit every piece of it to memory, no matter how long it took.
———
Natasha loved her job, truly she did. In fact, she’d given up her career of lawyering to begin teaching, something about it always drawing her in. But one part about her job that she didn’t enjoy as much, was marking papers. Although it was an integral part of her role as a professor, it seemed marking always held tedium in the never-ending correcting of answers and decoding of illiterate handwriting.
A low sigh escaped her lips as Natasha circled yet another grade atop of a paper, a red ‘D’ followed by a smaller ‘62%’. It wasn’t a surprise to her that most of the grades were on the lower side, especially for her introductory class, the highest so far reigning at a 73. It always took new students a while to get used to the new alphabet and syntax that Russian carried, their grades reflecting that sometimes up until the midterm. Papers like this were Natasha’s least favourite to grade, constantly having to mark down corrections for spellings or grammar, and usually taking up more of her time than she’d like.
The smell in the kitchen at least worked to brighten up her mood, the soft aroma of a home cooked meal fluttering straight from her nose and down to her anticipating stomach. Wanda always loved to cook and each night Natasha loved coming home to eat whatever she’d stirred up for that night. Her wife dotted around the stove top as Natasha sat across the breakfast bar, two stacks of papers sat next to her. Her mind was hoping by the time she was finished marking, Wanda would have dinner ready and the two could finally relax for the night.
Determined to get finished, Natasha reached for another paper on the stack, briefly brushing over the student’s name before beginning her marking. The usual first questions went expectingly well, but as the test slipped into slightly trickier territory, it seemed the common errors that Natasha had grown so used to seeing, were entirely absent. As each question progressed, Natasha found herself becoming continually bewildered at the perfect answers provided on the paper. At the very end, flipping over the last sheet of paper on to the counter, she lowered her eyebrows in confusion. “Huh.”
Wanda’s head raised from where it sat looking down at a pan, now gazing over at her wife with an inquisitive look. “What is it?”
Not answering immediately, Natasha flipped through the test once again, looking over the many check marks next to every question. Slightly confused, she closed the paper, looking up to meet her wife’s eye. “Some student just got a hundred percent. Like, a perfect score.”
Now it was Wanda’s turn to look a little shocked, her brows raising as she leaned across the counter. “You think it’s legit?”
Natasha shrugged, the scenario playing in her mind. “I mean, I monitored everyone whilst they took it. Nobody looked to be cheating.”
The taller redhead let out an almost amused hum. “Impressive. What’s this outstanding student’s name?”
The paper flicked back to the front cover, Natasha’s eyes flitting over the name scribbled on the top of the sheet in neat handwriting. “Y/N Y/L/N.”
Natasha’s mind searched its archives for any mentions of the name, its presence feeling familiar on her tongue. She fell back to taking attendance, specifically on the first day of class. The name had rung out in the hall and a small voice had picked up to answer it. Natasha remembered her amusement at the English accent she’d heard radiating across the room, originating from a young girl in a pretty summer dress near the front row. It seemed some part of her mind had locked in the gentle smile that accompanied such a sweet voice.
"Cute name," Wanda hummed, moving to stir her pot before her recipe could burn.
"Yeah..." Natasha's eyes remained on the sheet in front of her, scanning over the name and conjuring images of the face that matched with it. "I just don't know how she could have done this perfectly." Her fingers flipped through the pieces of paper, eyes scanning the work written in black ink. "I mean, everything is exactly how is should be. Even her cyrillic is written neatly."
Wanda let out a low hum as she continued fussing about with the stovetop, her answer coming out rather nonchalant. "Maybe she's in the wrong class? Was supposed to enroll in one of your others at a higher level?"
The proposal had already flashed across Natasha's mind, the work in front of her seemingly too good for someone of beginner status. There was always something wrong, some letter they'd missed or some word in the wrong order, it was never this perfect. Her mind had scoured back to previous years, trying to remember if she'd taught her before, but the name sounded too unfamiliar, and besides, she would have recalled that distinctive cute accent that this certain student possessed. "Maybe," Natasha replied finally, turning back the paper to the front. "But I don't see why she wouldn't have swapped out already. I mean, she would have had to have noticed by now, right?"
Wanda licked the small spoon in her hand, tasting her dish before tossing the metal away into the sink. It always amazed Natasha just how much of a multitasker her wife could be. Still adding things to her meal, Wanda tossed a comment over her shoulder. "Well, there's only one way to find out. Talk to her."
The idea washed over Natasha, already present in her own mind. The curiosity of the situation was pulling her in, already wanting to know more about this mystery student. As she thought of the girl in her head, more interest seemed to curate within her. Seeing that adorable smile she'd caught each time she'd called attendance, hearing that charming little accent that followed her name being called, something about it all drew her further in than one may expect, in ways perhaps unrelated to the test in front of her. Excitement and curiosity brewing in her, Natasha looked up to smile at her wife. "I think I will."
———
Today was not a good day for you. Not only had you forgotten your water bottle back in the dorm, but it was also the first day of the semester you’d be receiving back a test. It was only a small one, one that wouldn’t dent your final grade enough to matter, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t spent hours studying for it. You should have known that the peaceful calm that followed the start of term wouldn’t last forever, but it seemed every year the reality of things slipped your mind and you suddenly felt the anxiety crashing down on your shoulders a few weeks in.
Aside from a small introductory piece you’d had to write for creative writing, this was your first proper assessment of the year. As you sat in the lecture hall, waiting for class to begin, your mind flooded over everything you’d done to prepare, the hours of studying you’d put in, thinking back to the questions and if there was anything you could have possibly misread. Your foot tapped quickly against the floor as you pondered the possibility of a bad grade, particularly the berating that would follow from your family if they ever found out. You tried your best to settle your anxiety as the minutes ticked by, assuring yourself that you’d put in all the effort you could, a good grade surely waiting for you after all your hard work. But when the doors to the hall opened and your professor walked in, the pit in your stomach only dropped further.
“Morning everyone,” Professor Romanoff called out, briefly glancing across the class. In her hands you could spy the laptop she usually carried, alongside the stack of test papers you’d be receiving back very shortly. Your heart continued to beat in your chest as attendance was taken, voice slightly shaky when it came time for your name to be called.
“Right,” the redheaded woman said, closing down her laptop after finishing the register. She reached for the stack of papers in her desk as she stood, moving towards the front of the class and looking out. “As I said, these tests are mostly just a baseline to let me know you’re all on track. Though, if you are failing, maybe come see me and we can have a chat about why.”
With that, Professor Romanoff began towards the class, calling out names and passing out tests. You tried not to look as she walked up the isle next to you, the first time close enough to touch. Mostly, your eyes remained on the desk in front of you, mind reeling at the possibility of failing. You wouldn’t fail, right? You’d studied for hours.
“Miss Y/L/N?”
A low voice brought your head up from its position, mind dragged from your thoughts and thrust back into the present moment. Your eyes raised to see your professor suddenly stood in front of you, her stare focused upon your face.
“Yes?”
A tight expression appeared on the redhead’s face, almost a smile but not quite reaching her eyes. Her fingers slid your test paper back towards you, face down against the desk. Your eyes flickered down to it before returning to her gaze. “See me after class, please.”
If there were any words you wanted to say, your throat tightened to prevent them from escaping. Before you could even comprehend what she had said, Professor Romanoff was already moving on towards the next student. Your eyes followed her momentarily, then darted back towards your upturned test. You failed, your mind screamed at you. You must have failed.
Tentative fingers reached out towards the paper, your heart preparing for the first ‘F’ ever written on one of your tests. You were already thinking about how you’d have to explain this to your parents, how you’d let it settle within yourself. The paper flipped over, the red writing of your grade distinct at the top of the first page, but when your eyes fluttered over to it, they did not find what they had been expecting mere moments before. Instead of a giant ‘F’ like you’d been anticipating, the paper held a large ‘A’ on the front, then beside it, in a smaller circle, a 100% mark.
Your eyes almost couldn’t believe what they were seeing, mind more relieved than any time you could remember. Almost at once, your body had relaxed, that small smile appearing on your lips like it always did when you did well. You hadn’t failed at all, in fact, you’d done the complete opposite. Maybe this day wasn’t going as bad as you had anticipated. But then you remembered your professor’s words.
See her after class? What could that possibly mean? Your mind suddenly became erratic again, the anxiety taking control and catastrophizing every possible scenario. You were unsure how you felt with the idea of spending time alone with Professor Romanoff, suddenly worried she may have the ability to read minds and would be able to tell how much your mind had floated back to her face over the past few weeks.
The thoughts in your head were so loud you didn’t notice when your professor first began going on the test. It was only by question four you’d caught on, suddenly snapping back to reality and trying desperately to join back in with the class seamlessly. It seemed, however, that your mind still couldn’t concentrate, entirely focused on the conversation the red-haired woman in front of you had requested to have.
Your eyes fluttered around the room, glancing at the other students to perhaps gage how everyone else had done on the test. Briefly, they fell upon the desk next to you, spying the ‘56%’ scribbled on to the top of the test paper that sat there. When your eyes raised to the girl it belonged it, she passed you a quick scowl, making an eye to the perfect score that sat in front of you. Feeling far too seen, your eyes snapped back to your own paper, hoping that said girl knew you weren’t at all judging, though by her face, it seemed those were her exact thoughts. For the rest of the lesson you vowed to keep your eyes glued to your own paper, too scared of what they might find in the faces of those around you.
Eventually, your professor’s words began to drown out, overtaken by the lingering anxiety clouding your mind. Before you knew it, you’d spent the entire hour stuck inside your head, rethinking every possible scenario that could possibly occur after class. Now, you were forced to face the reality as Professor Romanoff dismissed the class, requesting papers be returned to her before anyone left.
You watched from your chair as a line of students all placed their papers in a stack on the side of the wooden desk. Slowly, you began to pack away your things into your bag, trying not to draw attention to yourself any more than necessary. When you stood, you clutched your test close to your chest, hiding the score away from anyone who might have passed you a look any similar to the girl previously sat beside you.
As the line of students dwindled down, all turning to leave the lecture room, you slowly approached the desk at the centre of the room. The last of your class let the doors swing closed behind them just as you reached the wooden surface, leaving you in the room entirely alone with your professor. You watched her from behind as she wiped the chalkboard clean, erasing away any remnants of the previous lesson.
The air felt so thick you could choke on it. Your mind told you to make yourself known, clear your throat or something, but it seemed you were almost frozen in place. Only when Professor Romanoff finally turned, did you even move at all.
“Ah, Miss Y/L/N.”
The woman dusted her hands against each other as she began to close the gap between the two of you. Both of your eyes met each other, her gaze locking on to yours as she walked back towards her desk and sat down on the edge of it. You swallowed harshly as you danced on the balls of your feet, your irrational thought of mind reading suddenly coming back to you. But Professor Romanoff didn’t say anything towards the sort, instead, simply extended her hand out towards you, palm facing up to the ceiling.
“Oh, right,” you stumbled, handing over the test paper which she had just previously been looking at. It was slightly crumpled from being pressed to your body but the woman seemingly took no notice, simply glancing over it before returning it to the pile of others on her desk, a low hum escaping from her lips.
When her eyes turned back to meet yours, you suddenly noticed how green they were, never having been so close as to regard them before. Blazing emerald gazed back at you as your heart pounded in your chest.
“This is a very good paper, Miss Y/L/N. I’ve never had a student get a perfect mark on one of my tests before.”
As Professor Romanoff’s voice caught your ears, your heartbeat only seemed to quicken its pace. Something in her gaze felt scrutinising, the small curt smile on her lips enough to practically drag your next words out from your mouth.
“I-I didn’t cheat if that’s what you think. I swear.”
It was spilling out before you could stop it really, words tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to plead your case. That had been the conclusion you’d drawn from this scenario, the reason you’d been asked to stay back in the first place. But to your surprise, Professor Romanoff simply raised a skeptical brow. “I never said you cheated, did I?”
Suddenly you felt very warm, like the wonderful AC you always gushed about had instantaneously disappeared. “No-I just-I-I mean-“
The words tumbled from your mouth, barely coherent. They were quickly silenced when Professor Romanoff raised a hand, passing you a look you couldn’t quite decipher.
“I don’t think you cheated, Y/N,” the professor said after a moment, lowering her hand once more. “I’m just curious as to how you achieved such a high score.”
You felt a little stupid, mind too ahead of itself like always and blurting out the first thing it thought of without even thinking properly. Professor Romanoff’s words washed over you and you picked up on the question present, thinking over your answer briefly before shrugging your shoulders. “I just studied, I guess.”
That perfectly sculpted brow raised once more. “Studied?” Professor Romanoff seemed to look you up and down, gazing at the way you picked at your nail beds anxiously. You stopped immediately when she seemed to notice, instead moving to hold your hands behind your back. The professor moved her eyeline back up to you once more, a curious expression now taking over her face. “Have you taken Russian before?”
You shook your head. “No.”
Professor Romanoff let out a low sigh, adjusting herself on the table where she sat. She was once again wearing a pair of fitted slacks and polished heels, partnered today with a short-sleeved white blouse. From this distance, you could tell the material was silk. You tried not to stare at the woman’s exposed arms as the came to cross against her chest, and more importantly, at the slight cleavage on show that now pressed higher as she moved.
“It’s highly unlikely for a beginner to get a perfect score on a test,” your professor said, eyes meeting yours. “Especially so early on.” The air seemed to grow thicker as the redhead leaned in closer towards you, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “So if you’re lying to me, sweetheart, I’d appreciate if you didn’t.”
The name hung heavy in the air, hammering at your lungs as you stood under the woman’s scrutinising gaze. Suddenly, you felt warmer, your heart rate picking up even more as the words of defense began to stumble from your mouth once again. “I-I swear I’ve never taken it before. I-I just-“ You swallowed harshly, trying to regain some of your composure. "I looked at the syllabus over summer and maybe taught myself some of the basic concepts is all. And I did some extra reading, but I just wanted to be prepared! I haven't actually done Russian properly before, I promise. I-I just-"
Professor Romanoff raised her hand once more, silencing your stuttering. "It’s alright, milaya," she said, a small smile now spreading across her lips. "Calm down." The Russian was recognised by your ears but not your mind, left untranslated in the conversation as the redhead continued to talk. "You’re not in any trouble. I was just curious"
The gentleness of your professor's voice was enough to settle you down, suddenly feeling foolish for blurting out like you had. You took a moment to breath, looking down at your feet as they swayed you back and forth. "Right," you said, voice now quiet in the near-empty room.
When your eyeline raised to Professor Romanoff once again, she was still looking back at you with that gentle smile, her eyes soft under the light. After a moment of her gaze on you, she released a small sigh, reaching back to place a hand on your test that sat at the top of the pile. "This is very good test, though," she said, nodding her head towards you. "You should be proud of yourself."
The praise washed over you in a wave of warmth, spreading across your cheeks and down the back of your neck. It wasn't often you received recognition for your work, it certainly never being enough back home, so you never really learned how to properly cope with it without your face embarrassingly heating up and a dopey smile appearing on your lips. You tried your best to hide these now, looking back at the redhead in front of you. "Thank you, professor."
The woman smiled, unbothered by the way your fingers had moved to begin fidgeting with the zip of your hoodie, desperate to find something to distract your flurried mind. "I assume you have another class to get to, Miss Y/L/N?" Professor Romanoff stood up, now looking down on you from a few inches above, her heels adding even more height so that you had to slightly raise your head from where it had been to look up at her.
Your head nodded. "Uhm, yes I do."
The redhead began to collect the papers that sat on the side, adjusting them into an orderly pile. From behind the desk, she smiled over at you. "Well then, hurry along. I wouldn't want to make you late."
Your head nodded again, more frantically this time. "Of course." You adjusted the backpack on your shoulders before turning away, headed towards the door to your right, but before you could reach it, Professor Romanoff's voice called out again.
"And Y/N?"
You turned quickly, facing her desk once more with an awaiting expression. The woman met your eye, the smile on her lips different now, almost what one could mistake as a smirk. She looked over at you as she said, "Keep up the good work."
For the third time, you nodded, feeling yourself heating up again. "I will," you replied, smiling sheepishly. "Thank you again, professor." And with that, you turned and reached for the door, rejoining the rest of the world with a blush on your cheeks. As you headed towards the exit of the building and on towards your next class, your mind tried desperately to think about anything other than the way your professor’s arms had looked pressed against her chest, or more noticeably, how sweet the nicknames she had called you felt upon your ears.
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