#i have a sucky neighbor

[sweet-as-kiwis]

“Easy Construction” (<- will take well over two hours)

#god I will never get over how sucky the first few days of being on campus are #I miss my cat. i miss my mom. I miss having Room. i miss not hearing when every single neighbor showers. #I’ve cried more in the last 24 hours than I have the rest of the year. I have accounting on Tuesday. I don’t even know where my classes Are #textbooks almost cost me $1000. Jiji is eating styrofoam. I’m gonna cry again. I’ve been here one night and I wanna go Home. #but heyyy at least my fav fanfic updated last night so I have That to read!! it will Also likely make me cry #idk yet I haven’t had time to open the discord #also if you’re considering getting an ESA pls get One the last two years I’ve just bottled shit up and had a full depressive spiral Later #now I’m crying into a lil kitten and getting that shot Out instead! much better!! #anyways. so excited for the new school year it’s off to a Start

[caesium-55]

—everything is orange. [ i ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

author's note: i wont take tags for this im sorry 😭 also, i changed the faceclaim

masterlist.

The room is dimly lit. You didn't like dim lighting. It reminds you of your childhood bedroom. A barely functioning lightbulb hanging on the ceiling, your mother never bothering to change it. You were too short to change it yourself. You asked your neighbor once to do it for you but he had asked for a night with you in exchange so you kicked him out of the house before he could change the light bulb. You chose to study under the sucky light which became the reason behind your poor eyesight today.

You sit on a chair across Atty. Kim Jin Hwang, HAN entertainment's legal representative and one of the best lawyers Seoul has to offer, with a table dividing the two of you. He’s a man in his fifties, quite close to the age of retirement. He’s a veteran and despite his age, his mind is still sharp. 

You refrain yourself from tapping your foot against the floor anxiously. Anxiety does not look good on you and you refuse to show people that you're anxious. Anxiety is weakness so you keep your posture straight and make sure to keep eye contact with Atty. Kim. If you look away first, you're a coward.

“Tell me honestly. Is this you in the pictures?” Atty. Kim Jin Hwang points at the pictures sprawled across the table. They’re blurry and grainy and incredibly zoomed in. You can't even tell it was you from some angles. You look quite different from the person that you were when you were sixteen. HAN Entertainment is particularly fond of investing in their idol’s plastic surgeries and while they only fixed your crooked teeth, removed the hump on your nose bridge, altered your uneven ears, bleached your skin, and plucked your brows—which are quite minor changes—you still hold very little resemblance to the teenage you. 

You grew up well. Thankfully, you inherited only the best parts of your parents. Or at least, the best parts of your Mom. You have no idea what your father looked like, only knowing that he was from Brazil or some country in South America.

“Yes,” you answer immediately, not bothering to lie. What is the point of lying anyway? People have been calling you all sorts of malicious names across different social media platforms and you’re sure Atty. Kim has seen some of them. There’s no point lying to his face and saving your image anymore. Might as well admit that you are exactly the kind of person they’ve been yapping about. An illegal driver. A criminal. 

“Why did you do it?” Atty. Kim asks and truthfully, you did not expect the question. You expected the what and how and where and when but never the why question. You fall into a thoughtful pause.

“I was sixteen,” you shrug your shoulders, almost uncaringly so. “I wanted to leave home as early as I could and to do that, I needed money. Nobody wanted to accept student part-timers and I tried doing stuff like tutoring and doing other people’s assignments but it wasn't enough. I have a friend who joins street races. He’s not a good driver but he’s got a good car. He really wants to win so he cheated and let me drive his car on the condition that if I win, he’ll split me the winner’s money. I did it. I won races in that car, acting as if he was the one driving it.”

Atty. Kim gives you a long look. You don’t know what it means. 

“Alright,” Atty. Kimlifts his chin and rises from his chair. “That concludes our meeting. In the meantime, you lay low. We’ll handle everything.”

You nod, “Okay.”

True to Atty. Kim’s words, HAN entertainment handled everything. They released a statement that you watched one race because you were sixteen and clueless and didn't know you were getting yourself involved in an illegal activity. It helped that you drove under a different name so people were easily convinced of this lie. You knew your friend—the owner of the car— wouldn't even reveal that it was you who’d driven the car. His ego would be bruised once the people discovered that he cheated on the street races and a sixteen-year-old girl with no license and no personal car outperformed him. 

Additionally, HAN announced that you were to depart your group—ORACLE—which absolutely destroyed you because ORACLE had been the place where you felt like you belonged. ORACLE had been your goal. You worked yourself to the bone to the point of collapse because you wanted to be in ORACLE and wanted to remain in ORACLE.

Nevertheless, you accepted your fate easily. There was no point destroying the other members because of your fault alone. 

Your members cried for a whole week after the announcement was made public through HAN Entertainment’s official social media platforms and you spent every single day you could still spend inside the dorm reassuring them, telling them that you’d still be there for them, that you’d be standing behind them in each step to their success. You loved your girls so much. You wouldn't even choose to leave them. If only fate was a bit kinder to you. If only life was less brutal.

Furthermore, HAN made you publish a handwritten apology letter. You couldn't remember what you wrote anymore but you did remember how heavy the pen felt, how your hands trembled as you wrote each sentence, how writing the damn letter took three hours because you kept breaking down midway. They announced your hiatus promptly after. They used the term indefinite hiatus but it might as well be retirement.

You can't believe that you suffered through sixteen years under the same roof as your incredibly abusive mother, left home with only a backpack and a paper bag of cash just as you hit eighteen years old, worked your way in the harsh world by juggling three part-time jobs and a scholarship-shouldered university education until a scout noticed you, undergone the rigorous and borderline suicidal training of a KPop idol to-be, and sacrificed everything you had—mental stability, blood, sweat, and tears—just so you could pass every monthly evaluation and become your company’s darling, only to have everything disappear because someone found pictures of you predebut in an illegal street racing event. Fuck. 

You were fucking sixteen at that time! You didn't know any better. You only wanted money. You didn't have a license. Getting one is too expensive. You borrowed a car from a friend. It's an unregistered car. You drove the car. You won races. You stopped when you turned eighteen. That was it. 

Knetz decided to crucify you for a sin born out of your desperation when you were sixteen. When a dog was hungry, it ate whatever was thrown its way, uncaring if the food thrown at it was good or not because its primary instinct was only to cure its hunger. It was not as if you sexually assaulted someone. It was not as if you bullied someone and involved yourself in school violence. It was not as if you drank alcohol and drove or even involved yourself in gambling. Sure, street racing was illegal but you never even hurt someone! You never even crashed into someone mid-race.

You’re sure you’re going to leave the company and you won't fight their decision if they want you to do so. People spit out their gum when they lose their flavor. That's also what the industry did. You saw it happen too many times to too many idols. They collect pretty faces, push them to their limits until they could be loved by the public and once the public decides they’re not worth loving anymore, they’d spit them out. You are a gum in this story.

You feel like you’re eighteen again. You want to run away from home all over again. You ran away from the house you were born in once and now, you’re going to run away from the house you worked hard to live in. You want to pack your bags and board the next plane to another country even before the light of the rising sun touches the ground. That gnawing feeling of not belonging to a place that’s supposed to be home kept tormenting the cracks of your heart and the only way to seemingly get rid of it albeit only temporarily is to pick up on your feet and run away, never to leave anything behind you. Not ghosts, not traces, not memories—nothing.

But HAN entertainment won't let you. Yoon PD-nim knocked on your door, a contract in hand. He offered you an apartment to live in, a salary, a place in the company, and told you to keep creating songs. HAN Entertainment knew your talent in song making and producing was partly behind the success of ORACLE, their rising girl group. You were too useful to get rid of easily. 

And like that, you spent the last two years making music for every kpop group under HAN Entertainment. You mostly made B-sides for the junior girl groups, AURORA and PRIZMA, and the title tracks for boy groups, HIRA and 1THEBOY. You worked for soloist, Ciel, once for his last comeback before his mandatory military service and worked on half a mini-album’s worth of songs for ORACLE every comeback. Thankfully, the songs gained positive feedback from the general public. That was your ticket to keep staying in HAN entertainment as a ghost producer and ghost song-writer.

Two years. You rotted in your apartment and the studio. This felt no different than the time you lived under your parents’ roof. You felt like a ghost, present but also not quite there. It's quite fitting, you think. You're a ghost producer and a ghost song-writer. 

This was not a life worth living but you’d rather a life not worth living than have nothing at all. 

You empty your fifth cup of coffee for the day—an unhealthy brew of Americano with five shots of espresso—before standing up from the ergonomic chair where you’ve glued your ass on in the last two to three business hours. The demo for Sunset Paradise is almost finished. There are still a few parts that need major adjustments and refinement but you’re confident that you’ll be done by midnight.

Manager-nim enters the studio just as you reach the door. You jump, almost kicking the indoor potted plant inconveniently positioned near the door. The caffeine made you extra jumpy today. Once you get over your tiny shock, you bow your head in greeting. Manager-nim mirrors your actions.

“You're still working?” he asks.

“You're still bald?” 

Manager-nim rolls his eyes at you, smiling. You chuckle. 

Manager-nim, or rather, Song Dan, is ORACLE’s manager. He is a middle-aged man who only came up to your shoulders. He’s shaped like a square with round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He treated you and the other members of ORACLE as if you were his daughters. 

“I’m going to go get coffee. You can sit here for a while,” you invite, gesturing to the tiny cream couch. You use your feet to nudge the potted plant and clear Manager-nim’s path.

“No coffee,” Manager-nim stops you, taking a seat. “That's enough coffee for you today. Sit down here. We need to talk.”

“You can't kick me out. I won't give you Ciel’s first post-military mini album and ORACLE’s summer title track if you do.”

Manager-nim’s eyebrows draw together, a vertical wrinkle appearing between them, “What? No. We're not kicking you out.”

Your shoulders sag, relieved.

“Yoon PD-nim wants you to release a single.”

At that, your entire body stiffens, eyes going wide as saucers. You let out a noise in disbelief.

“You're joking.”

Manager-nim’s face doesn't shift in the slightest.

“You're actually serious,” you rub your chin with your hand. 

What is Yoon PD-nim trying to pull now? Two years have passed since you’ve disappeared from the limelight. You're certain that you're not returning to the world of flashing lights and stage performance anymore and you’ve already accepted that your career has ended.

“Why?” your voice slightly wavers as you ask. Manager-nim sighs heavily, patting the vacant space beside him.

“Take a seat. We’re going to be talking for a while.”

The girl in the mirror stares back at you. She looks exhausted. She has deep bags underneath her eyes. Her shoulders are bony. They look like they're about to pierce through her pale skin. Her lips, which should be a nice shade of pink, are pale. Her eyes hold emptiness.

You pull your gaze away from your reflection and direct it to the bathroom sink, where a hair brush sits on the white tiles quietly. Fallen hair gathers up in its numerous sharp teeth. At this rate, you’re going to end up like Manager-nim—bald. 

You can't go bald. You have a weirdly shaped head.

“Yoon PD-nim wants you to release a single but before the release, he needs you to be in a PR relationship with someone.”

You hiss loudly, slapping a hand on your temple. God, you want to act like Manager-nim never said that. You don't want to remember it.

You? A PR relationship? With someone you don't know? How atrocious. You didn't even need to hear Manager-nim out until the end. You are out. You do not vibe with romantic relationships. They make your skin crawl.

“Listen, [Name]. This might be your only chance to come back again.”

“What if I don't want to come back again?”

“Then why are you still here? Why are you still making music? You're good at leaving so why didn't you?”

The public still terrifies you but you will never tell that to anyone. You can’t even go out and buy groceries without trembling. So many eyes. So many judging eyes. They're all waiting to destroy you again with their stupid eyes and stupid mouths with sharp teeth. A stupid PR relationship won't save you.

But what if it will?

You hold the edges of the sink and lean the majority of your weight against it. Your knuckles slowly turn white. Your knees feel weak. You close your eyes and let out a shaky sigh.

Why are you still here? A voice in your head asks.

I just want to be home. You reply.

Do it. This is your ticket to go home. It says.

You open your eyes and gaze into the mirror. 

Do you want to be home?

More than anything.

With a nod, you push yourself away from the sink and exit the bathroom.

Yoon Sang Hyuk, CEO of HAN Entertainment—the black marble desk name plate indicates; the text an intimidating shade of gold. The owner of the name sits behind the table, his legs crossed over the other. His face is sealed with a neutral expression. Suddenly, a satisfied smile works its way across his face and you swear the wrinkles that permeated his entire face doubled in amount.

“I knew you still had it in you,” he says calmly. “That's good.”

“Thank you,” you say, your tone coming out bland. 

“I’ll give you a manager and you are to leave for Singapore tomorrow.”

You nod, “Yes, Yoon PD-nim.”

“Oh and [Name]?”

“Yes, Yoon PD-nim?”

“I know you're smart and you're hardworking and you're strong,” he begins. “I am confident you’ll do well so when you fly out there, don't be intimidated by any of them. You're as powerful as them. Remember the reason why you're there in the first place and do what you think is best.”

“You're putting a lot of trust in me,” you observe. 

It's questionable; the amount of trust he’s giving you. You already expected that Yoon PD-nim would send out an entire escort team just to make sure that you're not going to mess up again and get yourself involved in a PR nightmare incident. Who knows? Maybe someone will dig up pics of you copying homework from your seatmate in middle school and crucify you for being an academic cheater while you're out there holding hands with your fake boyfriend.

“I know you won't make the same mistake twice.”

You finally catch the underlying message behind his seemingly harmless words.

Focus on coming back and don't make another mistake. 

You nod, “Yes, Yoon PD-nim.”

“Lando Kinder Norris,” you read the name on the folder, brows furrowing. That's a rather unique middle name. “British-Belgian. Born November 13, 1999—” 

It's good that your fake boyfriend and you were born in the same year. You're not very fond of age gaps.

“—in Bristol, England. Currently racing for McLaren. Car number 4. First entry is the Australian Grand Prix.”

Below is a series of long paragraphs detailing his racing history that you’re definitely not reading. Shoving the folder aside, you lean back into the seat and cross your arms over your chest. Your eyes flutter close. Jinnie, a HAN entertainment manager who looks like she’s half white and half Asian, gives you a judging look from her seat. 

“You should read it,” she advises.

“No,” you say.

“I spent hours compiling that information,” Jinnie frowns. 

“You compiled the wrong info,” you tell her, not even bothering to glance towards her. “Nobody will believe we’re real if I only know the things written in Wikipedia. You should have asked his PR team how he likes his coffee, if he prefers brunch dates or dinner dates, if he likes staying in or going out, if he likes the sunny weather or the rain, if he’d rather get food delivery or cook, if he’d like to hold hands and walk side by side or walk ahead of you so he can act like your guard dog. Those things.”

To be loved is to be known.

“You speak as if you have romantic experience.”

“Do poets have to experience the things they write poetry about?” you retort. “Immanuel Kant believed that everything depended on how individuals interpret and respond to his environment based on their personal opinions and feelings. I don't need to experience it to know.”

Recurring observations are your common source of knowledge. Reading is another.

And besides, this isn't your first PR relationship. You like to think that you know exactly what you're doing.

“Tell me something that's not written in the folder, Jinnie-ssi,” you open your eyes and tilt your head so you can lock eyes with her. “For example, why does a distinguished racer need a fake relationship? I can’t be the only one benefiting from this agreement.”

Jinnie purses her lips, “I don't know much.”

“But you know something,” you rest your chin on the palm of your hand. “Tell me.”

“There have been rumors that Lando Norris got a girl pregnant. The woman marched into Woking and demanded to see him. Apparently, he got her pregnant when they slept together in a bar,” Jinnie shakes her head. “It's a messy ordeal but McLaren recently proved that Lando wasn't the father. Too bad though, the public isn't believing them.” 

“And they think giving him a girlfriend would somehow make the public love him?”

“They need to show the world that their boy isn't an asshole,” Jinnie says. “That he’s a loving, loyal partner. That he isn't capable of committing fuckboy crimes because he has a girlfriend waiting for him at home.”

You snort. McLaren really decided that you’ll be the best girlfriend? How did they even know your existence? The KPop community and the F1 community are worlds far away from each other. It's easier for them to choose a supermodel, an American actress, or even a pop star. But no, they really decided that a washed-up KPop idol is a good girlfriend for their star boy. You can think of a few reasons why they chose you. 

“Are you sure he really isn't the father?” you ask. Companies can ignore morality for the sake of protecting their golden images. HAN Entertainment is no different. For all you know, you’re going to be fake dating an asshole who made a woman pregnant and refused to take responsibility. He’d be no different from your father who left your pregnant mother.

“Beats me.”

An hour later, the plane lands in the most expensive city in the world, Singapore.

You have three choices: a VAQUERA blue devil sweatshirt, Motel Rock chute trousers, and a Adidas forum low shoes combo, or a varsity baseball jacket, Bonbom rhee cargo pants, and a Curetty C round toe mary janes combo. You went with the varsity jacket-cargo pants-mary janes combo. You put on a bonnet to finish the look. When Jinnie enters the hotel room and sees what you're wearing, she immediately says:

“No. You're definitely not wearing that.”

“What's wrong with this?” you ask, looking down at your fit. This is what you usually wear. They're comfortable and acubi fashion is a trend nowadays. 

“You're a WAG now. Dress like it.”

Your eyebrow arches.

“WAG?”

“Wife and girlfriend,” Jinnie replies. Your confusion isn't absolved, not even the slightest. Your mouth pulls to the side.

“And how does this correlate to my fashion sense? Do race car drivers control their girlfriend’s fashion style?” you genuinely question.

“No,” Jinnie says. “But they’d prefer it if you dress in something befitting for a WAG, you know? Elegance? Classic timely looks?”

You put a finger up, “No.”

Jinnie huffs, “I’m not taking a no for an answer. Wear a satin dress. Wear cotton trousers and silk blouses. Look like you're from an old money family, not some hip hop dancer from the streets. You're no longer your own person, you are an extension of Lando Norris. You have to look a certain way, act a certain way, talk a certain way. Your goal is to make Lando Norris look good.”

You push your tongue to the inside of your cheek, annoyed. Your jaw is tense.

“And when Lando Norris looks good, you’ll look good. Good enough that the public will love you again to support your new song. Do you understand?”

She's right.

She's right.

You hate that she's right.

No matter how bitter the truth tastes, you are irrelevant and Lando Norris is your ticket to going back. In any other world, you will never ever allow yourself to become a jewelry for a man to wear. So you grit your teeth, keep the ugly prideful monster within you at bay, and clench your fists. You have nothing and when you have nothing, you need to be resourceful and make use of the people who have the things to push you to the top again.

You let out a sigh, “Jinnie, choose my outfit for me.”

Jinnie nods and leaves the room immediately.

It's three days before the Singapore FP1 2023. Jinnie drives you to meet Lando in his hotel. They organized a lunch gathering with you, Jinnie, Lando, and the other McLaren PR representatives who are responsible for this entire PR scam. 

You're wearing a Versace tweed cardigan and a boucle tweed skirt paired with high heel leather boots and Greca goddess large shoulder bag. All black in color. Jinnie is the one who styled your hair. She insisted on it actually, claiming that your beach waves hair isn't doing it. She flat ironed the hell out of your hair so now, it's straight as a pole. She also sprayed your bangs with strong hold hairspray to keep them in place.

The outside world is nothing but a blur of high-rise buildings and cement pavements as the car runs. You're picking on your nails. They're clean but bare of manicures. Your two pinky nails are a bit too short. You tried to stop yourself from biting them in the airport but you can’t resist.

Two years is a long time. A bit too long in your opinion. You don't remember the things you learned in your etiquette classes anymore—how to stand in the public, how to walk, how to pose in front of the cameras, how to smile, how to greet people, how to look completely in your element despite being anxious of having a thousand eyes staring at you, how to act as if you're not crumbling at the pressure of looking good for everyone. That's the only way they’ll love you. If you look good in their eyes.

“We’re here.”

You blink.

“Come again?”

Jinnie points outside the car window. The car stopped and you didn't notice.

“Sorry,” you mutter, flipping your hair over your shoulder. You let out a breath, roll your shoulders back, and push the door open. Your entire face relaxes and you smile politely at the valet when Jinnie hands him the keys of the car. You ignore the starstruck expression on his face as you gesture to Jinnie to lead the way, following after her but not before saying your thanks to the valet. You're polite. You're trained to be.

You keep your shoulders square and your walk confident as you enter the hotel lobby. There aren’t a lot of people inside. There's a family of four in a corner, a group of elderly people sitting in the waiting area, and a group of posh friends chatting near the front desk. You can see a few heads turning in your peripheral vision. You can't blame them. You can be stunning if you try to be.

Your heart begins to ram violently against your rib cage. A million butterflies infest your intestines. Your ankles feel like it’ll snap in half a few minutes later. Your mind chants: DID THEY NOTICE HOW SCARED I AM? DID THEY NOTICE HOW TERRIFIED I AM? DID THEY NOTICE? DID THEY?

You want your ball cap and your sunglasses and your face mask. You want to hide your face.

You have to control your breathing as subtly as you can but you continue walking as if you're the prettiest yet the most down-to-earth creature to ever grace the planet. You fix your hair again once Jinnie and you stop in front of the elevator. Jinnie presses a button and you wait. While waiting, you twist the sole of your boot against the floor. It's better than tapping it against the floor. The elevator dings and the two of you enter the empty box.

When the doors close, your knees give out. You slam your hands against the stainless steel walls to stop yourself from dropping to your knees on the floor. Jinnie’s hands wrap around your waist, supporting as you pull yourself up. Her face contorts in worry.

“Are you alright?” she asks. You nod quickly.

“Yeah, yeah,” you lay your palm against your chest, right above your drumming heart. “Thanks.”

You straighten up, tugging the hem of your Versace tweed outfit to smoothen the creases and fixing your hair again. You clear your throat. The elevator dings and the doors open. You step out and your mask slides in place. 

Jinnie leads you to a private dining hall. In the middle of a hall is a table occupied by five people wearing tacky orange-black polo shirts. You recognize one of them to be your fake boyfriend, Lando Norris. 

Jinnie had already shown you what he looked like in her tablet and a few printed pictures but the pictures didn't do him justice. He looks extra charming personally.

He's still not your type.

The entire group rises to a stand just as you and Jinnie reach the table. You give a ninety degree bow, hands flat on the collar of your top so you won't accidentally give the McLaren people a view of your chest. (It's not like they have something to see anyway. Your chest is flatter than a rice field.) The edges of your lips curl upwards in a polite smile. You see Lando, your supposed fake boyfriend, try to imitate the bow, although he doesn't go as deep as you did. Your head tilts slightly at his action. 

Jinnie is the first one who speaks, stretching a hand in front of her to shake hands with the McLaren team. She introduces herself in fluent English, “I’m Jinnie Jo of HAN Entertainment. It's a pleasure to meet you. This is [Name].”

They each introduce themselves one by one. Nicole, Greg, Kyla, and Louis. You try to memorize their faces and their names, drilling it into your brain so you won't forget. You're going to be working closely with them after all.

“Hi,” you greet them. You also shake hands with each of them. It feels weird, shaking hands as greetings. You are more accustomed to bowing. 

“Wow, Jinnie, your accent is good,” Kyla compliments your manager.

“Thank you,” Jinnie smiles pleasantly. “I was born in Chicago. English is my first language.”

“How about her? Does she speak English?” Louis inquires. He's giving you a funny look. You ignore it.

“She does,” you smile at him pleasantly. “I’m very fluent. You don't have to worry.”

Risha, the Canadian member of ORACLE, was the one who helped you master English. You even have a Canadian accent when you speak English because of her. Additionally, you also took language classes when you were a trainee—Japanese, Chinese, English, and you even requested Portuguese, Spanish, French, and Korean sign language. You dabbled a bit on Tagalog, too, because you know how large the ORACLE fanbase is in the Philippines. You continued taking the classes up even after debut, even after all the members of the group had stopped, because you wanted to master the languages for the fans, to be able to hold conversations with them, to connect with them. You only stopped going to the classes after leaving the group two years ago. It's nice to see that your English skills are still in perfect shape.

“Please take a seat,” Nicole invites. You and Jinnie sit down. You place your bag on the empty chair beside you and when you pull your gaze up, you coincidentally meet Lando’s eyes. They're blue and green with flecks of hazel dusted in the middle. It's the first time you've seen someone with eyes wielding three different colors. They're stunning.

You smile at him. He smiles back and then averts his gaze. You turn to Nicole, who’s sitting beside you.

“Now,” she says, putting two folders on the table. She slides them towards you and Jinnie. Jinnie picks them up. You don't. Instead, you stare at them. 

“What are these?” you question, slowly bringing your eyes up and meeting Nicole’s gaze.

“Contracts,” she answers.

“Contracts?” you echo, picking the folder up and opening it. You take your sweet time reading from top to bottom, tilting your head a bit to the side.

“You don't have to read it all. It's all just formalities. Just sign it,” Louis inputs. “Reading can be hard for you since it's not your first language—”

“I read just fine,” you interrupt, not glancing up as your eyes thoughtfully scan through the words printed on the paper. “Thank you for the concern but this is a contract that involves me and my future. I wish to know what I’m agreeing to.”

Louis wisely keeps his mouth shut. You put your hand on your mouth so you can discreetly smirk.

When you finish reading, you slowly set the folder back on the table. You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you tap your finger on the wooden surface of the table. 

“This is unfairly written, don't you agree?” you ask. “You're putting rather lots of demands on me but so little on him.”

From beside you, Jinnie thins her lips. You know she's also thinking the same thing. Fucking HAN Entertainment. They didn't even make sure that the contents of the contracts are not disadvantageous towards you. You are disappointed but not surprised. They really just sent you to be devoured by wolves and demanded you to not make a mistake.

McLaren also thinks they can just choose a washed-up KPop idol to cosplay as their golden boy’s trophy girlfriend and make her do all their demands with little benefits and zero complaint. They deliberately chose someone who still holds popularity but little power. Someone who needs them as badly as they need her. They chose you.

Assholes. The two of them.

“What do you want him to do anyway?” Louis sneers. His face is beginning to look a little too annoying. “He's busy building his career. All you have to do is support him and make sure everyone knows it because you have none. That's all. Or is that a little hard for you?”

Louis is getting this all wrong. Jinnie told you that you're going to fix his reputation for him so his career wouldn't be ruined. In exchange, he gives you publicity so you could bring your career back from ruination. This is not a parasitic relationship where only their side gets the benefits. How could you even work on that comeback of yours if you're going to be glued by his side? 

Your jaw ticks with restraint yet you choose to smile, “He’s not the only one building his career.”

You pick up the folder and toss it to Jinnie, who catches it skillfully. 

“Throw that away. We're flying home. I don't need a PR relationship to promote my single that much.”

Satisfaction fills you when their faces grow alarmed. 

Ha.

“Wait,” Kyla stands and she shoots a dirty glance towards Louis. Your eyebrows scrunch a little. “The contracts are open to revisions.”

You clap your hands together, smiling widely.

“Perfect. Jinnie, hand me a pen.”

The team leaves you and Lando alone in the hall to eat, to give you both a chance to get to know each other. 

You allow your eyes to scan the hall. It has a bright spacious ambiance. The windows are stretched from the floor to the ceiling, allowing as much natural light inside. Singapore looks absolutely breathtaking down below. The flooring is made out of natural pine and a crystal chandelier hangs atop the table where you and Lando ate. You keep thinking: what if it'll fall? You shake the thought out of your head and put a fork full of pasta into your mouth.

“Is the pasta good?” Lando asks. You nod, humming and smiling. You don't like it one bit. You're also mildly allergic to shellfish. You're definitely going to get a bad case of rash later. You hope Jinnie is prepared with a medicine kit. You forgot to bring yours.

You wipe your mouth with your table napkin, announcing, “I’m full.”

You have only eaten half the plate.

“Oh you have a…” Lando points at the corner of his lips. You wipe the same area in your face. “No, the other side.”

You wipe the other side, “Is it gone?”

“Allow me,” he says, standing up from his chair and leaning across the table to thumb the stain. 

“Is it gone?” you ask again. Lando nods.

“Yeah, it is.”

He goes back to his seat.

“Thank you,” you smile. “You're already doing great with the whole fake boyfriend act.”

A flustered smile splits Lando’s face, shaking his head.

“I try.”

“By the way,” you begin, leaning a little forward. “Did they also give you a folder with my information?”

Lando nods, “Yeah.”

“Did they also suck?”

He purses his lips.

“Well….” he drawls.

“You can tell me if it sucks. The one my manager gave me looks like it's copy-pasted from Wikipedia.”

Lando chuckles. 

“I mean, your biography is very…detailed? Too detailed, I think. I didn't remember most of them, sorry. I only remember a few of them. Like your birthday. January 1, 2000.”

“1999.”

“Pardon?”

You wave your hand in a theatrical flourish, “I was born in 1999. The company manipulated my public information.”

Lando’s brows raise in surprise.

“They do that?”

“You’ll be surprised,” you lean back into your chair.

“But why?”

“So every member in ORACLE can be born in 2000. I don't know,” you shrug your shoulders. 

“That seems like an unnecessary change.”

“It is,” you agree. “But HAN wants everything to be perfect. They see a flaw. They fix it to their liking immediately.”

“What are the other things that are a scam in your biography?”

“Scam is a big word,” you tell him, amused. “But I’ll tell you. In exchange, tell me about yourself. Not the info I can read in Wikipedia. In order to make this work, I have to know you.”

To be loved is to be known.

“Alright,” Lando says. “We can take turns asking each other questions.”

“Cool,” you bring a glass of water towards your lips, taking a sip. “I’ll start. How do you like your coffee?”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #kpop idol! reader #formula one #formula 1 #f1 imagines #fanfic

[fetusgooseandjuice]

You’re All I Need

Pairings: Yelena Belova x fem!reader | WandNat x daughter!yelena

Summary: You and your dad move next door to Yelena and her moms. It’s only a matter of time before you two fall in love.

Alternative Universe: Natasha and Wanda are married with Yelena as their daughter. Yelena and Y/N are in high school. The MCU plot doesn't exist.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Mentions drugs and alcohol addiction

(Mom: Wanda)

(Mama: Natasha)

"Lena!" Wanda called from downstairs.

Yelena got up from her bed and jogged down the stairs. She found her mom standing in the kitchen holding a plate of brownies with saran wrap covering them.

"Stop calling me Lena," she whined, walking into the kitchen.

Wanda chuckled, "Can you run these brownies over to the neighbors? They just moved in, and I'd like to make them feel welcomed." Wanda responded, putting the plate in Yelena's hands.

"Sure I guess. The neighbors to the right or left?" she asked, slipping on her shoes.

"Detka, we live on a corner. We only have neighbors to our left." Natasha said as she walked into the kitchen.

"Oh right." she realized, and Natasha playfully rolled her eyes.

"Just take the brownies and go. Be polite!" Natasha managed to get out before Yelena shut the door.

She walked down the door step and turned down the side walk, making her way to the neighbors house. When she got there, she rang the door bell and waited.

When the door opened, she was met by a tall, clean cut man who looked like he was getting ready for bed.

"Hi, I'm Yelena. I live next door, and my mothers wanted me to give you these brownies as a welcoming gift." she politely said, holding out the brownies for the man to grab.

"Oh well thank you. They look delicious." he responded, taking the plate from Yelena's hands.

"Yeah, my mom loves to bake so," she trailed off with a light chuckle.

"Tell your mothers I said thank you. My daughter has such a sweet tooth, so she'll love them. I'm Matthew." he said with a small smile.

"Nice to meet you. I better get going since dinners going to be ready soon." she replied.

"Alright, enjoy your evening, Yelena." he told her.

"You too." she said with a nod of her head as she walked off.

Yelena walked back to her house and opened the door, kicking off her shoes. She made her way into the kitchen where her moms were sharing small kisses.

"Oh my god ew. You have a child who lives in this house, please stop." she dramatically covered her eyes.

Wanda and Natasha softly laughed, "When you find someone to love, you won't be able to keep you hands to yourself either, dorogoy." Natasha said.

"Yeah, yeah whatever. Is dinner done? I'm starving over here." Yelena sat down at the dinner table.

"I just finished it while you were over at the neighbors." Wanda stated, putting the dogs food on three different plates while Natasha helped her carry them to the table, setting them down.

Wanda and Natasha sat down with Yelena and began eating, "Were the neighbors nice?" Wanda 

questioned.

"Yeah, his name was Matthew and he has a daughter. I'm not sure how old though or what her name is." she responded.

"It was just him and his daughter?" Natasha asked.

"Yeah I guess so. I didn't see anyone else and he only mentioned a daughter." Yelena spoke quickly so she could go back to stuffing her face.

Natasha raised her eyebrow, "You act like we don't feed you, child."

"Well I didn't eat lunch because the school lunch was sucky today." she explained.

"Do you need us to start making your lunch again?" Wanda questioned.

"As long as it's you making it and not mama. She can't even cook frozen foods to save her life." Yelena jokingly insulted.

"Um, I'm sitting right here." Natasha reminded her.

"Oh my bad. I just forget sometimes since you're so short." Yelena giggled, but stopped when Natasha flung a spoonful of mac and cheese at her face.

"Hey!" Yelena exclaimed.

"Natasha, we don't throw food at our child." Wanda gave her wife a stern look.

"Well tell our child that I'm not that short!" Natasha whined.

"You shouldn't be asking her for reassurance. She's your wife, so she's just gonna say whatever makes you happy. You should ask someone like me who's going to tell you the truth, and the truth is you're short." Yelena teased.

"I swear I'm gonna-" she abruptly cut herself off when she got up to chase Yelena around the kitchen.

Wanda just watched them, sighing and sinking back into her chair with her glass of wine, "One day...I'll get that month long vacation in the Bahamas I've been dreaming about for years." she whispered under her breath.

~~~

"Alright Yelena, go wash your face and then come back down and load the dishwasher." Wanda said after dinner was done, and Yelena just nodded her head.

She made her way up the stairs and into her bedroom. She was about to open the door to her bathroom before something caught her eye. Looking out her window, she could see into a window of her new neighbors house.

The light was on, so she could see two people standing in the room. One of which being the man she spoke to earlier, and the other being what she assumed was his daughter. Yelena eyes slightly widen at the sight of the beautiful young girl who looked to be around her age.

But they softened when she realized the the two of them were arguing based on how their mouths were moving, and their facial expression.

She didn't realize she was staring at the scene until the man left the room and she made contact with the young girl. She tried to avert her eyes away, but it was too late as the girl had already noticed her.

She watched her walk towards her window and open it, so she did the same.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to stare." Yelena awkwardly apologized.

"It's okay. I know that's not something you typically see everyday." she spoke sympathetically.

"If you don't mind me asking, does that happen everyday?" Yelena questioned.

"Not everyday because my dad works a lot, so most of the time he's not here. But whenever he is here, it happens pretty often." she looked down.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Yelena didn't really know what to say to the girl.

"Don't be. I'm Y/N." she voiced with a small smile on her face.

"Yelena." was all she could get out as she was too stunned by the girl's beautiful smile.

"It's nice to meet you, Yelena." she kindly replied.

"What made you guys wanna move to Greenwood?" Yelena asked.

"My dads job. He works a lot, so he got a promotion. We decided to move so we could be closer to his new office." she explained.

Yelena nodded in understanding, "I-" she was cut off when Wanda called for her, reminding her to do the dishes.

She sighed and let her head fall back, wanting to talk to Y/N more.

"It's okay, we can keep talking later. How late do you stay up?" Y/N asked.

"Depends. How late do you want me to stay up?" she reversed the question.

Y/N chuckled, "I'll flicker my lights 3 times to get your attention."

"I'll be paying attention." Yelena said smile with a smile before saying goodbye to Y/N, and shutting her window.

She took a few deep breaths to get rid of the blush on her cheeks before making her way back downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Who were you talking to up there?" Natasha furrowed her eyebrows.

"No one." Yelena replied to keep herself from smiling.

"Oh come on. I could hear you talking to someone from down here. Who was it?" Natasha asked.

"It was just the neighbors daughter, Y/N." this time, Yelena couldn't still the smile that was making itself known on her face.

"The neighbors daughter is causing you to smile like you're in a haunted house?" Natasha teased.

"Mom says my smile is cute!" Yelena defended herself. 

"Your mom just says whatever will make you happy." Natasha said which made Yelena roll her eyes, realizing that her mama was using her own comeback against her.

"Who's making who smile?" Wanda questioned as she walked into the room.

"The neighbors daughter, Y/N, makes Yelena blush just by thinking about her." Natasha spoke up.

"Ooo has our little baby found someone to swoon over?" Wanda joined in on the teasing.

"Okay, okay calm down. I just met her, let me live my life in peace, please." Yelena said as she finished the dishes.

"We're just teasing, detka." Natasha said, kissing her daughters cheek.

Yelena hummed, "I'm going to head up to bed early." she said before running up the stairs.

Wanda and Natasha paused to looked at each other, "She's not really going to bed is she?" Wanda asked.

"Nope. She's going to talk to Y/N." Natasha said in a sing-song voice. Wanda just rolled her eyes at her wife's antics.

~~~

A few months have passed, and you and Yelena have grown extremely close. Falling into the habit of one of you flickering your lights three times, and then either opening your windows to talk, or using paper to write on and then putting it up to the window for the other person to read.

'What do you mean? Math is so easy, it's like my favorite subject.' you wrote on your paper and showed it to Yelena.

'Well then I'm going to need you to tutor me before I fail this upcoming test because I am hopeless.' Yelena wrote back and you laughed.

You went to write something when you noticed Natasha walk into the room.

"Yelena, what are you still doing up? You have school tomorrow." she asked, but her question was answered when she saw Yelena sitting at her window with her notebook and marker in hand. Then she saw you sitting in your window.

You waved to her and Natasha just gave you a smile, "It's time to say goodnight, dorogoy. You've gotta get to sleep." she said softly.

"I will just give me one sec." Yelena said, looking down to write something on her paper.

'I've got to go, Y/N. I'll see you at school tomorrow?'   she wrote.

You read it before responding, 'Of course :) Good night, Lena <3'

Yelena smiled brightly at you before standing up and heading over to her bed to lay down. Natasha took her notebook off the windowsill to write something, 'You need to go to bed as well, Y/N. Goodnight.' 

She showed the paper to you and you wrote down your response, 'Have a nice night, Mrs. Romanoff :)' you flipped your paper around before turning off your bedroom light and heading to sleep.

"Does our little sweetheart have a crush?" Natasha playfully teased.

"Stop,” Yelena groaned, her cheeks blushing.

"It's okay if you do, honey." Natasha reassured, sitting on the edge of the bed to look at her daughter.

"I guess I do, mama. But, she probably doesn't even feel the same way." Yelena sighed.

"Now that's exactly what I thought about your mother when we were your age, but look at us now." she spoke gently.

"I just don't know how or when to tell her."

"You might not know now, but when the time is right you'll know." Natasha put her hand on Yelena's shoulder and leaned down to kiss her forehead before getting up to walk out of the room.

"Are you sure she likes me?" Yelena asked.

"They say mama knows best for a reason." she smiled and turned off the light, shutting the door.

Yelena sighed and tried to stop thinking about Y/N so she could go to sleep, but it was nearly impossible. 

~~~

A few weeks later, you and Yelena had gotten paired together for a school project. So, you were walking home with Yelena after school to work on the project at her house.

"I'm home!" Yelena called out as she entered the house with you following behind her.

"Hey darling!" Wanda called out. Yelena followed the voice through the house and found her mom sitting on the couch in the living room.

"How was-" Wanda cut herself off when Yelena appeared in her line of vision with you by her side.

"Well hello, Y/N! Yelena didn't tell me she was bringing you with her." Wanda said looking between the two of you.

"Our last period teacher gave us a project due when we go back on Monday, so it was kind of last minute. I thought I'd bring her home today and have her come over this weekend to work on it." Yelena explained.

"That's okay. Are you guys hungry? I know you've probably had a long day." Wanda asked.

"We're fine, we'll just wait until dinner." Yelena answered.

"Alright, but if you do get hungry before then, don't be afraid to let me know." Wanda made sure Y/N felt welcomed in her home.

"Okay, thank you." you answered before Yelena took your hand to try and lead you upstairs.

"Make sure you actually get some work done!" Wanda called out. You couldn't stop to say anything as Yelena was pulling on your arm.

She flopped down on her back onto her bed while you sat in the chair at her desk, turning to look at her, "Your mom is really nice." you said.

"Yeah, but sometimes it can be a bit much. I love her though." Yelena responded.

"She just wants what's best for you. That's what every good mother wants." you spoke.

Yelena stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. You noticed how deep in thought she was, "What're you thinking about?" you questioned, getting up to sit on the edge of the bed next to Yelena.

She turned her head to look at you, "Has it always just been you and your dad?" she curiously asked.

"For a while. My mom left when I was ten, and I'm sixteen now, so it's been six years." you replied, laying down on your side next to her so you could face her.

"Do you know why she left?" Yelena asked.

"Not exactly. But I know she had...a lot of issues with alcohol and drugs, so I just assumed it was because of that." you explained.

"Oh. Is that why your dad works so much? Because he has to provide for both of you now without any help?" she questioned.

"For the most part. He wanted to give me a better life than what I had when my mom was around, so he works 24/7 to make extra money. But that's why a lot of our fights start. Because he's gone all the time." you said. Yelena nodded.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to make it seem like this is twenty-one questions. I was just curious." Yelena apologized.

"No it's okay, I get it." you said and silence was the loudest noise in the room for a few seconds until Yelena spoke up, changing the subject.

"You know, everyone's seen the way America's been looking at you, at school. She practically has hearts in her eyes and drool coming out of her mouth." yelena gently said, turning her head to look at you, and you chuckled.

"Yeah, I know." you sighed.

"I'm pretty sure she's planning on asking you to homecoming. Do you know about that?" she asked, talking in a softer voice.

"No, but i'm not surprised. Any ideas on how to kindly reject someone?" you answered, matching the volume of her voice.

"Reject her? Why would you do that? Is she not good enough for you or something?" Yelena playfully teased.

You smiled, "No, she's just not my type. Not the person I wanna go out with." you explained.

"Really? Then who is?" she asked.

You sighed with a smile, "Oh, I don't know. Probably this blond haired girl with gorgeous green eyes. She acts like a literal puppy whenever someone makes mac and cheese."

Yelena laughed, "Oh yeah? Tell me more about this blond haired girl."

"She is extremely bad at math. I wouldn't advise copying off of her answers even if you think you're going to fail because then you are bound to fail. And..." you trailed off, thinking for a moment while Yelena raised her eyebrows, waiting for you to finish.

"Oh, and absolutely hates when people call her 'Lena', but for some apparent reason she loves it whenever I do it." you finished.

You laughed with each other for a few seconds until you relaxed. This was when you noticed how close your faces were. Merely inches apart. You looked from her eyes to her lips. Yelena took note of that, and brought it upon herself to make the first move.

She slowly leaned in, giving you time to stop her just in case you didn't want this. When her lips connected with yours, she relaxed feeling you kiss her back.

She pulled away after a few seconds to look at you, "Is this okay?" she asked, gently.

You nodded you head and she connected your lips again, but it only lasted for a few short moments when her mother called for her from downstairs.

"Yelena, Y/N, dinners done!"

She sighed, throwing her head back while you just giggled, "Come on." you pulled Yelena off the bed and down the stairs while she groaned.

"Yelena, could you get drinks, please?" Wanda asked, setting plates of food down at the table, sitting down along with Natasha.

She nodded and looked down at you, "What do you want?" she softly asked.

"I'll just have water." you gave her a small smile. She hummed an okay and went off into the kitchen to get drinks.

You sat down in the seat across from Natasha, "The food looks lovely, Mrs. Romanoff." you complimented, looking at Wanda.

"Thank you, darling. It's one of my favorites." she grinned.

"Have you ever taken any cooking classes? Because this looks like something you'd find in a restaurant." you said and Wanda chuckled.

"You flatter me too much. No, I'm just that talented." Wanda jokingly boosted her own ego, looking up as Yelena returned with the drinks.

"Y/N, you must be really special since Yelena asked you what you wanted to drink. We normally have to just be happy with whatever she brings back." Natasha teased.

"Hey, Y/N is the guest, so she gets the guest treatment." Yelena defended herself.

"Okay okay, just sit down, and eat your food." Natasha said.

You all dug into your food, sitting in a comfortable silence until Wanda began to talk, "So Y/N, how's school going for you?"

"It's okay I guess. School is school so," you trailed off which made Natasha and Wanda chuckle.

Yelena shook her head in amusement, "She only says that because she knows she's a straight A student. She doesn't like to brag, but I do." 

"Straight A student, huh? Are you in any extracurricular activities yet?" Natasha asked through the food in her mouth.

"Mama, don't talk with food in your mouth." Yelena grimaced.

"My bad." she apologized.

You spoke up to answer her question, "I’m a student aid during my study hall period and sometimes after school. I just got an offer to join honor society, and I made the varsity cheer team for basketball season."

"Varsity cheer? Congrats! It sounds like you’re doing really well so far." Wanda chimed in.

"Yeah, I just thought it would be easier to make friends at school by joining clubs since I enrolled late." you nodded your head.

"And I’m doing basketball again this year, remember? So Y/N's gonna be at my games since she's doing cheer." Yelena smiled brightly, but tried to calm herself a little bit when her moms looked at her with teasing expressions.

She continued her conversation with her parents when you accidentally dropped your napkin. Yelena watched you lean down to reach for it, so she covered the corner of the table with her hand to keep your head from hitting it.

When you sat back up, your head bumped Yelena’s hand instead of the table. You placed the napkin back on your lap and focused your attention on the conversation.

Both Wanda and Natasha noticed the action, and they glanced at each other with subtle smirks before looking back at Yelena just as quick.

When dinner was done, Wanda began to clear the table. "Do you need any help, Mrs. Romanoff?" you asked.

"Thanks for the offer, darling, but I'm okay." she answered.

"By the way mom, is it okay if Y/N just stays the night? I know she didn't really come prepared for that, but I was gonna give her some of my clothes, and I'm sure we have extra toothbrushes around here somewhere." Yelena questioned, walking into the kitchen.

"I don't have a problem with it, honey. Just make sure you go to bed at a reasonable time." Wanda said.

"Sweet, thanks mom." she walked over to give her mom a kiss on the cheek before dragging you back upstairs to her room.

"Do you normally sleep in hoodies and pants, or t-shirt and shorts?" Yelena asked, rummaging through her drawers.

"T-shirt and shorts are fine." you smiled sweetly at her.

She handed you one of her shirts and a pair of shorts that didn't fit her anymore, "The bathroom is right there, so you can change in there if you want." she pointed to a door beside her dresser.

You nodded your head, and walked into the bathroom to change. Yelena laid down on her bed, scrolling through her phone while waiting for you. She sat there for a few moments until the door opened and you walked out wearing the t-shirt that almost completely covered the shorts she had given you.

"You look absolutely adorable." she grinned, sitting up on her bed to swing her legs over the edge, placing her feet on the floor.

"Well these are your clothes so," you smiled, walking towards her.

"And you look stunning in my clothes." she reached for you, gently resting her hands on your hips to pull you closer.

You hummed, having to lean down to kiss her since you were taller than her at the moment as she was sitting down. Once again, your lips only got to touch each other's for a few moments until someone knocked on the door. 

She groaned when you jumped away from her, moving to sit propped up against the headboard so your position wouldn’t seem too compromising. Yelena waited for a moment to answer, giving you time.

"Yeah?" she called out, and a Natasha opened the door.

"Your mom left some blankets and extra pillows downstairs on the couch for you guys. She didn't know where Y/N was sleeping, so she just left them there for you to get."

"Okay thanks, mama. Goodnight, I love you." she said.

"I love you too, darling. Goodnight Y/N." Natasha nodded at you.

"Goodnight Mrs. Romanoff." you smiled before she closed the door.

"I swear, every time." she exhaled.

You lightly giggled, "We can just go watch a movie or something, it's okay."

She pouted, clearly wanting to go back to what you were doing, but you just grabbed her hand and led her downstairs. When you got to the living room, you situated the blankets and pillows on the couch to make it more comfortable.

"Do you want popcorn or any snacks?" Yelena asked once you finished.

"Popcorn is okay." you responded, going with her into the kitchen to make the popcorn and grab a water. When you were done, you brought the bowl of popcorn and drinks into the living room, turning off the lights and setting them on the end table while you established a cuddling position.

Yelena laid down on the couch and you snuggled into her side, resting your head on her chest while her arm wrapped around you. She turned on the tv and scrolled through the options, choosing one that she remembered you saying had interested you.

The movie was only on for about ten minutes when something else occupied Yelena's thoughts, "Y/N?"

You moved your head to look up at her, "I know I don't have a huge sign, or bags of candy and flowers, but will you go to homecoming with me?" she asked, hopefully.

You grinned brightly, "Of course I will. But, I don't need any of that extra stuff, I just need you." you said and it made her smile, holding you tighter.

"I had a feeling you'd say that, but I'm still going to get you something anyways." she told you.

"You had a feeling I'd say yes, or that I just need you?" you questioned.

"Both." she said with a smile, lifting your head up so she could kiss you. You'd been longing to have a proper kiss like this one, so you got lost in each other very quickly. She flipped your positions, settling between your legs.

Your hands cupped her cheeks to hold her close. The movie and everything quickly became forgotten. So forgotten that the fact that you were in this house with Yelena's parents had slipped both of your minds.

That was until you heard footsteps coming down the stairs. You were aware of them, while Yelena was not as she was so fixated on your lips. You tried to pull away to warn her.

"Lena-" you said, but were cut off when she only hummed and continued with her ministrations.

"Hey Yelena, have you seen-" Natasha's voice rang through the living room, but she was stunned by shock.

This time it was Yelena who jumped back in a panic, "Mama I-", she started, but couldn't find the words to finish her sentence.

"Oh my god- I am going to pretend like I did not just see that." she was speechless.

Yelena couldn't find the words to explain what her mama just witnessed, and you sure enough weren't going to open your mouth.

"I get it, okay. You guys are teenagers and you like each other, but please do not do…that…on my couch. I use this couch daily and I cannot live knowing that my daughter and her girlfriend did…that…on it. I won't tell your mother, but please don't take it further while your mom and I are home." she tried to reason.

"Okay, thank you for not telling mom." Yelena finally spoke up.

Natasha hummed in acknowledgement.

"Sorry, Mrs. Romanoff." you had an apologetic look on your face.

"It's okay, Y/N. You're a sweet girl. Yelena don't do anything dumb." she turned to walk back up the stairs.

"Hey!"

"I'm just messing with you, detka. Go back to your movie— or whatever you were doing.” she said, walking up the rest of the stairs and Yelena groaned.

"I think we should just stick to cuddling the rest of the night." you quietly suggested.

Yelena sighed, but agreed anyway. You returned to the spots you had been previously watching the moving in, and it wasn’t long before you both became so comfortable that you fell asleep.

When Wanda and Natasha woke up the next morning and found you, they of course had to take pictures to later tease their daughter with.

~~ end ~~

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #yelena belova #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda marvel #wanda maximov #wanda maximilf #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x reader #alternative universe #natasha marvel #yelena marvel #wandanat

[sirfrogsworth]

I made an obscure joke about British electrical systems in cars that only people familiar with vintage Lotus, Jaguars, Triumphs, etc would probably get.

So, probably no one that follows me.

And I'm just giggling all alone to myself.

My dad had one customer with a Lotus and he almost told him to take it somewhere else.

Growing up around American mechanics obsessed with muscle cars it was important to roast foreign cars. A rite of passage, if you will.

To my dad's disappointment, I still had a Lamborghini Countach and a Ferrari Testarossa on my wall.

I did end up appreciating Corvettes and Camaros when I got older. Mainly because I was able to actually ride in them. The noise is like a hundred bears growling at you from every direction. Which is super neat in small doses. Though I don't know how my brother drives around like that all the time.

My dad also had a customer with a white De Tomaso Pantera. But I don't think he ever got to work on that.

We got to "visit" the car. But the owner rarely drove it so I remember being a little kid and just kinda staring at it—wondering why it was a big deal. My dad would just say, "It's really expensive so don't touch."

Our former next-door neighbor had a Super Stock drag racing car that he built himself. That was like 10,000 bears growling at you from every direction. It was basically as fast as the Tesla Plaid without the whole "street legal" thing going for it. I got to sit in it a bunch of times with the engine revving. But it could only be driven on the drag strip. Oh, and you had to get into the car through the window like the Duke boys.

And my favorite car experience was when I rode in a 1980s Porsche 911. A friend of my uncle owned it and gave all of us kids a ride. He drove me around on some very hilly and dark backroads. Looking back, it probably would have been safer during the daytime. I'm pretty sure the speed limit was 25 and we were going above 80. I was used to cars that only went fast in a straight line. So when he took a curve at a million miles an hour and I was pinned to the door, it felt more like a roller coaster than a car ride. That thing stuck to the road like it had duct tape for wheels.

What was I talking about?

And that's why Lucas Electric caused so many British cars to have sucky wiring.

Or something.

The End

[vintage-retro-queen]

Chapter Five-Nature is No Picnic Up Close (The Sucky Outdoors)

It was just another ordinary day like any other in Camp Wawanawkwa.

Where all of the campers are at the campsite, listening to Chris talk to them about their next challenge. "Campers, today's challenge will test your outdoor survival skills. I'm not gonna lie to you, some of you may not come back alive. Just joking." he laughed. "All you have to do is spend one night in the woods. Everything you need is at your team's campsite in the forest. You just have to find it." Chris then tosses Lucy and Duncan a map and a compass for each of the two of them. "Oh, and watch out for bears. Lost a couple of interns in preproduction." "I'm sure we'll keep that in mind," Lucy said, handing Gwen the map and compass. "You sure are fearless all of a sudden," Gwen said, looking surprised at Lucy's unamused look on her face. "Well, you could say that this isn't the first time I was in the great outdoors," Lucy explained as she got her BerryPod and earphones out.

CONFESSIONAL: MARY-LOUKRITIA CORLEONE

"I'd just like to thank my friend Angie for this BerryPod and earphones." Lucy said, holding a light purple sticky note that says in violet-purple pen 'Just thought you might need it while at camp-Angie.' "I know I said my family doesn't do technology like everyone else, but there is one thing I miss doing back home, and that is listening to my music in my record player. My favorite music I like to play is classical, all songs from the 1950s to the early 2000s. In other words, from 2000 to 2009. Some 2010 songs I can tolerate, notice I said I only like some of them. I have reasons why. Anyway, I'm still grateful for Angie giving me this. Thanks, Ang. I owe you one." she said, waving at the camera to her friend.

"First team back for breakfast wins invincibility." Chris then blows his airhorn while some of the campers get up from their seats and start walking. "Well, off you go." "Did he say there are bears up in here?" asked Leshawna. "I had a little encounter with a bear once." said Owen. "Let's just say his head looks real nice up on my mantel." "Oh, this one time, I saw a bear eating our garbage. He had old spaghetti noodles hanging from his big, huge teeth, and it looked like blood and guts." Izzy explained. "And possibly some moldy spots along with it," Lucy muttered, sticking her tongue in disgust while Marinette quietly giggled from that. "It was so gross. And we thought he was eating the neighbor's cat Simba. But it turned out he was just lost for a week." "Better the cat alive than dead." Lucy muttered again, with Marinette nodding in agreement.

A little while later, the Screaming Gophers were walking to their campsite. Trent then caught up to Marinette. "Hey, Marinette, wait up. Can I walk with you?" "Sure. I don't mind at all." Marinette said to him. Trent smiled as the two walked together while Lucy, who was listening to her music, was just more focused on walking and listening to her said music. After another little while, while the three were still walking ahead of the other Screaming Gophers, Heather scoffs while rubbing her hand. "She is so the next one to leave," she said. "Who?" Beth asked. "Who do you think? She had her box trap my hand in front of everyone." "Yeah, but you did almost read her diary out loud to the entire world. ALMOST." Gwen pointed out. Hearing that made Heather stand her ground and make the others behind her stop. "So?" "So, that was pretty harsh," Gwen said, with Cody nodding in agreement.

"She is going down." Just then, a rock was thrown at the back of Heather's head, causing her to yell out an 'ow' from it and turn her head to see who threw it. There, she sees Lucy turning to her left, furiously glaring at her deadly. Yet, Heather's eyes widened, seeing the left side of Lucy's face. Her glowing eye and withered, gray skin covered in glowing scars, and a scar over her said left eye. Seeing that caused Heather to scream in fear, running and getting behind Owen, making the other Screaming Gophers look at her confused. It then alarmed Trent and Marinette, causing the two to turn around. "What's wrong?" Marinette asked. Heather tried to tell them while pointing at Lucy, but all that came out of her mouth were sputters and stutters. However, when they turned to look at Lucy, Lucy was just walking, still listening to her music, and not aware of what was going on behind her. "Lucy isn't doing anything, Heather." Marinette and Trent then continue walking with Lucy. Along with the rest of the Screaming Gophers following along with them. Heather was both shocked and in disbelief about why they never noticed Lucy's face when she turned to her.

CONFESSIONAL: HEATHER

"I don't know what that was...but something is not right with that Corleone girl," Heather said, shaking in fear of what she saw.

When they got to their location, Owen pointed out that there was no food. "Well, this is a survival task, Owen," Lucy said. "Lucy's right. Look at the instructions." "I wonder if there are any bears around today." Owen said. "Wouldn't it be funny if we made some bear sounds, and then they came?" Izzy laughs at Owen's idea. "That would be so funny," she said. As Owen does his bear impression, Heather shushes him. "Will you please shut it? I'm trying to read here," she said, looking at the instructions. "It says we're supposed to find our own food." Heather scoffs. "I still don't see it." "I think they mean in the woods, Heather," Marinette said, pointing at the words that were in small font in the instructions. "Leave the food finding to me," Lucy said loudly, getting out a fishnet and a spear. As she walked off, the rest of the Screaming Gophers looked at her, surprised. "Where did that girl get the spear and the fishnet?" asked Leshawna, pointing the two things in Lucy's hands. "She probably got them from Chris or Chef," Heather said, rolling up the map.

CONFESSIONAL: MARY-LOUKRITIA CORLEONE

"Actually, they are my stuff one of my relatives gave me one summer," Lucy said, holding up an old photo of her tween self, holding the same spear and fishnet. "Like I said, it's not the first time I was in the great outdoors."

After setting up the campfire, the Screaming Gophers waited awhile until Lucy came back. Heather complained that she was starving while Izzy groaned. "I think my stomach ate my stomach," she said. That was until they heard a pizza guy call out. "Yo! Who ordered the pepperoni...extra cheese?" "It's for the camera crew, over here." "No way," Heather said in disbelief. "Well, this is a survival task. I don't think they mean we can't use any modern things like ordering food." Marinette said, with Trent and Gwen nodding in agreement. "Alright, I'm back," Lucy called out, with a fish in her spear and thirteen fish in her fishnet. "Are you kidding me?"

"Alright, Lucy!" Owen said happily. "You're awesome." said Trent. Izzy excitedly said she loves fish and tried to bite it. However, she stopped. "I guess we should cook it first, huh?"

With that, they started cooking the fish. "Alright, fire's hot, fish is grilling, and we already got the tent set up," Lucy said as she looked at the tent, and Marinette looked at the fish. "Nice going, Lucy, fish looks awesome." "Thanks. I owe it all to my relatives back home." Suddenly, Heather notices something. "Hey, has anyone seen Crazy Girl?" she asked. "I think she had to use the can." Owen guessed. "But that was over an hour ago." Trent said. Lucy motions to Marinette that they'll go and find her. Marinette nodded, and the two headed off to find Izzy while the others called for her.

As the two headed to find her, they walked to see the Killer Bass. "Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to join us." Duncan said. "Funny, Juvie. Hey, have you guys seen Izzy?" "No, sorry, Lucy," Courtney said. "Man, that bambina is gonna put us six-feet under. Thanks." Before the two can continue finding Izzy, Lucy and Marinette notice the rabbit. "Where'd you find that?" she asked as she and Marinette sat down. Before D.J. can answer, they hear an owl hooting, which startles Bridgette. "It's okay, Bridgette. It's just an owl." Marinette said, comforting her.

"Sorry, I just get really freaked out in the forest," Bridgette said. "Hey, if it's any consolation, sometimes nature is a wonder to behold. Well, not all the time, honestly," Lucy said. "Why? What's wrong with it?" asked Harold. Lucy crosses her arms, looking down, saying, "Well, it's kinda hard to explain, really." "Huh, I thought you said that it wasn't the first time you were in the great outdoors," Duncan said. "I did. But sometimes nature is honestly no picnic. Asides from being in one that is bear-country on one side of it, and dealing with..." Marinette and the Killer Bass looked surprised seeing Lucy like this. Lucy crossed her arms, held herself tight, never let go, and looked down, not feeling comfortable continuing, her shaking as if she experienced something traumatizing, and her face looked like she was scarred for life. With that, Courtney smacked Duncan on the head.

"See what you did?! You're making her feel scared now!" she said angrily. "Courtney, it's fine. It was just a nightmare I just had before I got into this show." Lucy said, snapping out of it. "I got a bit carried away reading old newspaper articles. One of them was about a former country idol, and a female idol from another genre. I guess I read that one too much that it gave me that nightmare, making me be the said female idol, being hunted down by that creepy former country idol...Ah, man, I forgot his name. It's kinda the same name as a bird. But I forgot what bird it was." Courtney and the others understand, but Courtney then glares at Duncan. "You are so vile. Do your parents even like you?" "I don't know, Gawky McShocker. I haven't asked them lately." Then, wolves start to howl, which startles Marinette into jumping into Duncan's arms in fear and looking scared, not aware of Duncan looking at her, then at Geoff, causing him to give Duncan a smile and a thumbs up.

After a bit, it was time for them to sleep. They offered Lucy and Marinette to join, and since there was no turning back to the Screaming Gophers since it was getting pretty late, they accepted. As they sleep, Lucy hears Bridgette outside. She pops her head out to see what is going on and notices Bridgette accidentally falling with a bat on her face, which causes her to kick a burning charcoal up and over to their tent. Lucy then quickly catches it and tosses it back into the fire. The Killer Bass sighed in relief when they saw her do that. Lucy then heads over to Bridgette, getting the bat off of her. "Come on, Vinnie Stoker, off the gal and head back with your pals," she said, letting the bat fly off. She then turns and helps Bridgette up. "Thanks, Lucy." "Of course. It's what I'm here for." "Is your hand okay?" "Oh, it is. Slightly burnt a tiny bit. But other than that, it's fine, really." "Guess she does have experience with the great outdoors," Duncan said, crossing his arms impressed.

After that, they all head back to their tent and back to sleep on time before the rain starts. By the next morning, Marinette was resting in Duncan's arms until she started to wake up. "Morning, Sunshine." Marinette's eyes opened, and she realized that she was on top of Duncan. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" Marinette gasped, quickly getting off of him. "Seriously? Cuddling Nettie like that? Not cool, Juvie." Lucy said, looking at Duncan unamused. "Hey, I was calmly lying on my back and trying to catch a few z's. She was snuggling up to me." "You are one heck of a beta-punk." "I've been called worse." Lucy rolled her eyes and walked. "Come on, Nettie. We're leaving. Hope the gang found Izzy and they'll meet us at the campsite." Lucy said, with Marinette walking next to her.

CONFESSIONAL: MARY-LOUKRITIA CORLEONE

"I am not trusting that Juvenile one bit whenever Nettie is with him. If he ever hurts a hair on that bambina, he will regret it."

When they got back to the campsite, Chris was there. "Glad you two made it. You two can head back into the main lodge and help Chef out." "Sweet!" Lucy said, looking like she's won a Platinum Record at the music awards. Marinette happily nodded, and the two headed over to the main lodge.

As the two left, the Killer Bass made it, too. "We're the first ones back!" Courtney happily cheered. The Screaming Gophers then arrive as well. "Oh, no! They beat us here. This is all your fault!" yelled Heather. "Not so fast, Gopherinos," said Chris. "It seems the Killer Bass are missing a few fish." "Oh, you mean Katie and Sadie?" Courtney asked. "I'm pretty sure they got eaten by wolves last night." "Darn shame," said Duncan. That was until Katie and Sadie ran in, panting. "We made it." "We're safe! Oh, my gosh, guys, we got totally got lost and then got in this massive fight." "And there was this huge bear, and he was all, "Rawr! You're in my crib, so get out!"" "And we had to run, and it was, like, so scary." After a bit and seeing the two hug and make up, Courtney gets their attention, clearing her throat to them. "Are you two finished your little love fest?" she asked. The two nodded. "Good. Because thanks to you, we just lost the challenge!" "Wait, but what about Marinette and Lucy?" Lindsay asked. "Oh, those two got here too. They're just helping Chef in the kitchen making breakfast as we speak." Chris said, pointing to the main lodge. The Screaming Gophers sighed in relief, knowing that the two were okay and they didn't lose the challenge either. Chris continued. "All right, Killer Bass, one of your fishy butts is going home. Gophers, as the two are done helping Chef, you're going on an all-expense-paid trip to the Tuck Shop!" The Screaming Gophers cheered while the Killer Bass gasped and then glared at the duo.

After breakfast and the Tuck Shop, every one of the Screaming Gophers was hanging out in their hot tub, having fun. "Oh, my gosh, this is so good! I never thought chips could taste so good!" Owen said. "I think I'm gonna be sick." "Got you covered, Owen," Lucy said, handing him a bucket. Owen gratefully takes it, turns around, and throws up the chips in the bucket she gave him. "That is so incredibly gross," Heather complained. "Ah, that's better. Thanks, Lucy," Lucy nods with a smile. "Hey, by the way, where were you two anyway?" Gwen asked. "Oh, we were at the Killer Bass's tent. It was getting late, and we didn't have a choice." Marinette said. "Well, as long as you two are safe, that's fine," Cody said, which made Trent nod in agreement. "And you two made it before we did, which got us to win the challenge, so I guess I'll make an exception," Heather said, munching on her chips. "The Screaming Gophers rule!" Owen cheered.

Later that night, it was time for the elimination ceremony. "You've all cast your votes. The camper who does not receive a marshmallow must immediately hit the Dock of Shame, grab the Boat of Losers, and get the heck out of here. And you can't come back. Ever...Now, I can see you're all tired, so tonight, I'll just throw them to you. Savvy?" Chris then starts to throw the marshmallows to the campers who are safe. "Courtney. Duncan. Bridgette. D.J.. Harold. Geoff. Tyler." Which then leaves Katie and Sadie. "Ladies. This is the final marshmallow of the evening...Sadie."

After the elimination ceremony, Lucy and Marinette are sitting on the steps of the Killer Bass cabin, reading another Stephanie Queen book and sketching designs on her sketchpad, while Duncan walks over and sits down next to them. "Hey, Duncan," said Marinette. "What do you want?" Lucy asked, glaring at him and trying to continue reading her book. "I just want to say that I'm sorry I asked that question, making you remember that nightmare." "Hey, you're lucky I had my essential oils on me, or else I would've brutalitied you into a pulp." "Brutalitied?" "Oh, it's slang my people and I usually use back then. Anyway, just know that I accept your apology." Lucy and Marinette then got up and headed over to the Screaming Gophers cabin for bed, not aware of Duncan looking at Marinette romantically.

Desc Prologue Get to Know My OC Chpt 1 Reactions Pt 1 Chpt 2 Reactions Pt 2 Chpt 3 Reactions Pt 3 Chpt 4 Reactions Pt 4 Reactions Pt 5

#miraculous ladybug #total drama #total drama island #miraculous crossover #total drama crossover #oc insert #class salt #adrien salt #lila salt #lila sucks #cerise bianca salt #iris verdi salt #who the freak is she?!!💢 #caline bustier salt #damocles salt #gabriel is not a monster #gabriel agreste redemption #good parents tom and sabine #tom and sabine sugar #totaldramamiraculousisland #total drama miraculous island

[kangamommynow]

It's been a day

Nothing major. Just small accumulating annoyances. Being tired and too warm (it got to nearly 80 degrees today, which is insane). Trying to channel the wildness of 10 year olds.

at one point I put my head down on my table and my group was concerned. "I don't feel like you are hearing anything I'm trying to teach" "I'm listening to you" "But you are also watching X and talking to your neighbor and spinning on the stool, so if you are listening it is with the 'yes I hear you' and not with the 'I'm trying to understand you'".

I have a new kiddo in my reading group. His reading is very, very low, but not because of disability. He is a refugee, an immigrant. His reading is low because he just doesn't know much English yet. My other students have the benefit that they know English letter sounds and he doesn't. His brain has to work a lot harder. He'll get there, but it's so freaking hard for him. He has ESL services, but that's not nearly enough.

We have another student who is moving away at the end of the week and I have to admit I'm glad. The class will be so much calmer without her drama. So much drama. She spends most of her time flitting from one person to another spreading rumors and stirring up trouble and provoking other people and frankly it's on everyone's last nerve. When my student M gets in a fight, it's almost always involving this girl either directly or indirectly. She is also the primary bully of one of my other students. So. I'm glad she will be gone.

After school I took J over to REI to try to find travel clothes for the cruise. We found some pants, shirts, and socks for him, and a few shirts for me. Alas, despite all my hunting, not a damn pair of pants in my size anywhere in the store. Yes, I'm short. That doesn't mean I'm tiny. They had petite sizes 0-8 and regular sizes (much too long) 10-16, but not a 14 or 16 petite to be found. So I had to order on Amazon and pray that something fits. I fucking hate clothes shopping. It's the most dispiriting activity. Especially when you know precisely what it is you need and it just doesn't seem to exist.

They are moving our school to a late start, mostly due to bus issues. We are nearly 7 weeks into school and we still have busses running 1-2 hours behind because they just can't get enough drivers. Many of the drivers were retirees and they all left with Covid. It's a sucky job with weird ass hours and rambunctious, often disrespectful kids and I wouldn't want to do it either. So they are shifting our start/end time to try to accommodate that. God knows what they are going to do as more and more teachers leave. Squish more kids in a classroom and pretend more testing will solve the problem, I assume.

I'm cranky, obviously. I am too warm, too sore, and I miss my ... whatever he is. My guy. The person I'm attached to. It's just . sigh.

[thymeebutter]

A few fun examples of things that probably should have ticked parents off towards my autism:

(!! Feel free to share with your own!!)

Having a comfort blanket, and when it was suddenly taken from me and thrown away after years and years with it, I completely shut down until it was replaced and I had adequate time to mourn. (Didn't do anything for over a week, like barely ate and just cuz I was fed)

Being so confused about the order of things and how you were supposed to do them, to where my mom got fed up and just printed and laminated step by step flow charts and guides for things like getting dressed, showering, brushing my hair, ect

Constantly stimming

Learning disability squad ✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️💜✨💜✨💜 (dysgraphia specifically, effects my ability to put things in my head onto paper, my handwriting is atrocious, spelling is not good, I don't know how to write or type in proper grammar I just use speech to text, also writing hurts my hand a lot. Might ask why I don't type, I have a very difficult time putting things onto screen as well, I like speech to text because I can just say my thoughts and it cuts out the sucky middle man)

Refused to learn vowels and cursive, got extremely mad when I was shown algebra, calmed down when I realized there wasn't actually writing words involved

Was part of the "advanced group" of one other person in 5th grade and was learning algebra. (Definitely wasn't in advanced classes through high school though, those teachers were a lot less accommodating towards my learning needs so I got majorly behind in everything)

Loyal to a fault with friends, and was often taken advantage of and lied to

Obsessed with eggs, specifically deviled eggs, would go to every single neighbor on the street that I had been introduced to, and try to trade them pictures of their pets for eggs (it worked with two of them and I would routinely visit for more deviled eggs loll, I got inevitably caught when I would just put the unprotected egg into my pocket to save for later and made a mess) 😭

Didn't know how to approach people or play with them, at literally any age. Only didn't stand out majorly because on my first day of kindergarten a girl ran up to me and said that we were now friends and basically guided me through everything lol. Honestly looking back I think she just had fun bossing me around but I wasn't against it or anything, it helped me not stand out too much.

Would interrupt class to tell teacher that a poster (often times cartoon drawings) had incorrect gravity, physics, anatomy, ect, and would completely miss the point that it's a cartoonized version

Did not understand really the concept of sharing and what belongs to who for a good while

Told my mom that when I was an adult I was going to buy a hundred erasers to just chew on throughout the week, was told that this was a good idea, now I have chewy toys lol

Also remarkably too obsessed with pet toys, still am tbh, The crinkles and bells and squeakers are fun, what can I say?

Learned to "pretend play" when my parents were watching, but would just do my own thing otherwise and play with things in a very nerdivergent way.

Had very bad depression and anxiety since at least 4th grade

Literally my only other friends were either kids who just adopted me as a friend suddenly (99% of them took advantage of me), or were also disabled in some way and ostracized

OBSESSED with my little pony and having wings

Once I got slightly older and got unrestricted internet access, became even more obsessed with fallout Equestria (I have the fancy leather bound golden embossed print I'm so happy) (I want the project horizons one too)

Would very very obviously mirror people around me, typically adults, they thought I was just being funny

Very bad with volume control, would be extremely loud, then extremely quiet, then wouldn't respond at all. Parents didn't care as long as it wasn't the loud one since they were tired with younger siblings.

Taught myself to read because my mom was too slow, was reading Nancy Drew at 4 (I don't actually know if that's the normal age)

Could read well in my head, had extreme difficulty putting the words together out loud

My favorite blanket was two pieces of fabric tied together, and when I was overwhelmed I would untie some of it and then retie myself inside of it and hide in there for hours

Would retreat to small dark spaces like closets and under beds, parents didn't care cuz I was out of their hair

I grew up on my Little pony and a VeggieTales, so I was very over the top expressive when I was younger since I was copying the shows I liked, didn't mean I would pull the red expressions at the right time though, people just figured I was funny

Would walk directly behind people I liked and trusted, constantly got yelled at by my mom for stepping on her heels

Would get extremely upset if anyone was behind me more than once or for more than 20 seconds

Always felt like a really bad kid, and like I was really stupid for just having a different brain

Very clearly not a cishet kid, not an exact trait of autism itself, but autistic people are more likely to be LGBTQ+

Was extremely good at reading in my head, but extremely upset when I was told to read at the same speed and level out loud. There's like a disconnect in my head that makes it hard putting words in my head or from paper(extremely bad at reading out loud) into vocal noise that is coherent

Took things very literally (very fun story! Was bad with personal space, and when I was about 10 my parents realized that I wasn't just trying to be cute, I was told to stay an arm's length away from everyone at all times. Later that day, A pregnant lady at our church feels a tiny hand on her tummy, thinking that I must be curious about her baby she excitedly turns to me. I am glaring, and when I see her looking at me I explain that I was told to keep an arms length away at all times, but I was very frustrated because I was still somehow doing it wrong??????? She found this very hilarious, and found me years later to tell me the story, apparently it's one of her favorites so that makes me happy at least. I did definitely get in trouble though rip)

Book I like? Reading it cover to cover over and over until I can tell you what happens on every page

Tried to show interest in other people and bond with them by info dumping on things I liked and then waiting for them to do the same, sometimes this worked out very well, other times it did not and I may or may not have thought that my dad hated me all throughout middle school because he did not show interest in the same way and neither of us understood.

Bonded a lot with my dad though as a kid through both getting hyper fixated on the same LEGO game, he would play and be very strict about anyone interrupting his focus or making noise, and I would sit and watch for hours without moving, it was pretty chill

Terrible at telling when I was hungry or thirsty

My first memory is signaling for a parent to fill up my sippy cup, and my dad did. Except when I took a drink, it was lukewarm! I was disgusted and even though I needed water and felt bad physically I refuse to drink. Now I'll drink lukewarm water if I have to I guess, like if I have a bad headache and need to take meds.

Got low-key hyperfocused on dork diaries in either fourth or 5th grade for a bit, taught myself a chunk of calculus, scored way too high on my computer state testing and gave my teachers way too high math expectations :p. Forgot everything within a week because I got re-obsessed with mlp

Got in trouble for giving rude looks a lot, turns out I was just either giving too much or too little eye contact, I figured out that you could counteract this a bit by complimenting people, because a lot of people like when younger kids compliment them

Did not at all realize that I was bullied until I entered middle school and the kids were a lot more obvious about it, even then I was very dense to most of it and still kind of am

Bad at telling when things hurt, had a terrible ankle that would constantly give out, and because I wouldn't be able to tell it hurt or wouldn't be able to react appropriately to the pain I would just be told to walk through it. Whenever I ended up hurting myself I would always hope that no one saw so I could just continue playing, unfortunately when the kid is covered in blood that's kind of a red flag and you get sent to the nurses office and then to the doctors or home loll

Also related, I was not very good at acting sick when I was sick, so teachers wouldn't believe me. I would tell them very straightforward that I was about to throw up and I guess I wasn't acting the part because they would tell me not to lie. Jokes on them I guess, or the janitor. Poor janitor ya'll deserve more love

Took people seriously, whenever I was told to figure things out on my own or do them myself I would, even if I ended up extremely hurting myself. I would always get scolded for not asking help but I would be so confused cuz I was told to do it on my own

Later in elementary school I was very bad at playing the games everyone else played, especially the pretend ones since I didn't really get the rules or what was going on, but my best friend was really popular so I just followed her around and she vouched for me (once again, someone who just adopted me as a friend, still friends now and we like to joke that she's stuck around me too long and has just gotten used to it all lol)

Final fun fact, was told when I was 15 by my bio mom that she always figured I was "somewhere on the spectrum"(depending on her mood she used the r slur >:/) but didn't want the family to have to deal with the ~stigma~ . Like wow, feels great but y'all knew something was up with me but never thought to even talk to me about it because you didn't want to look bad to others. Also this was completely unprompted lol.

#late diagnosed autistic #autistic experiences #actually autistic #autistic traits #autistic childhood experiences #how did no one notice this

[alfryco]

Tell me all about 6 👀

Ok ok ok so number 6 is the Alfreyco Werewolf AU

Basically this AU takes place in a world where werewolves are a known thing and a separate species from humans. Pretty much humans and werewolves can and do live side by side. Of course some people have to ruin that. So Alfredo is a werewolf, was taking at a young age from his family (parents possibly killed??) and is mostly feral. The people that took him were like traffickers that would steal young wolves and sell them to people and Fredo just happened to be sold to someone who takes part in the world of underground werewolf fights. Think dogfighting but with werewolves instead of dogs.

10-15 years later, Trevor (and other colleagues that i'm not sure about yet) comes along and discovers the basement of a house they were investigating due to a neighbor complaining about a "smell" emanating from the house. The basement is lined with cages, with all the residents within deceased, except for one. And that one living werewolf down there is Fredo.

Trevor and his group rescue Fredo, and probably have to sedate him seeing as he only knows to respond in ways to other people and wolves that protects himself and his body. There's usually a place for feral wolves or just wolves that don't integrate well with humans and other wolves (think like rehab centers or shelters), but of course due to the sucky infrastructure of this world there isn't a spot available for Alfredo to get in there right now. So Trevor ends up volunteering or being assigned to take this almost feral wolf into his home. It's not safe, but the group can't leave him on the streets and the only other person that can take care of him has young kids at home and that would just be unnecessarily risky.

Over time Trevor and Alfredo grow closer as Fredo gets better and starts to process some of the trauma that he's been through. And they both honestly are loving each other's company. Even though there are more bad days then good ones. But one day a spot opens in the center and the people that run the center convince Trevor that Alfredo would be better with them. Alfredo doesn't want to go, but Trevor convinces him to go with them because it means that Alfredo will be taking care of by people that know how to do better by him than Trevor ever could (self-doubt hello?? love that shit??).

So a very upset and confused Alfredo goes with these people to the shelter and he's there for like several days. We see that neither him or Trevor are doing well during this time of separation and Trevor's house has never felt emptier. But he keeps telling himself it's for the better of Alfredo and that's all he cares about. One night its raining (because of course it is and i say so) and Alfredo escapes the shelter. He doesn't want to be there anymore, he wants to be with Trevor and the rest of the group of people that he's come to associate as his own. So he arrives on Trevor's doorstep soaking wet and Trevor is shocked obvi that Alfredo made it back to him and concerned but he's also relieved, so so so relieved, that Alfredo is back with him. Felt like he was missing a piece of himself all this time.

Then I think I'll possibly have the people who kept Alfredo trapped for fighting come knocking on Trevor's door and demanding to have Alfredo back. And Trevor is spitting mad not only because of the hell they put Fredo through and all the other people they kidnapped, but also because they talk about him like he's an object and not an actual living being. So I'll probably have Trevor fight off these people? Indirectly showing Alfredo that he will do anything to protect him, but he gets hurt (because unfortunately i love hurting that poor man) and Alfredo probably gets several good bites in on the people and they end up running away. Alfredo goes to run after them, but stops when he realizes Trevor's more injured then he thought. And then the two get taken care of and they get news that the leaders who came to their house were caught and spilled the beans on the rest of the people involved in that fighting operation. And then they live happily EVER AFTER! (with the magic of communication and therapy and love!)

#hey a question #confusedeevee #rtah #alfreyco #uuhghggh i love this au so much #can't wait till the day i can finally start working on it fully

[icemankazansky]

(tw vent if that's okay if not you can just delete this, thank you <3) honestly though the hate in this fandom is... so discouraging. like ive been writing fics for top gun & tgm but the fact so many people are so set on being hateful & not respecting others, and now there's a whole burn book blog like... idk i just don't feel like i should put myself out there. which is really sad because i really want to interact. and i know the fandom wasn't like this prior to tgm, and that makes me sad too because i came in after tgm came out, and I just feel so sad that even though im not part of the problem i'm still part of like, the wave of people that flooded the fandom. which would have happened even without me being here, but idk, i just feel... sad, like it feels like tgm (even though it's a really good movie that a lot of people genuinely and innocently love) really screwed ao3 up and sorta just hurt everyone and is still hurting everyone. idk.

it just sucks that fandom is supposed to be a place that brings people together and makes happiness and instead I just feel so drained and upset when I think about posting fics and exposing them to the fandom and apparently whole discord groups to like, pick apart. it's just really sad and sucky.

anyway if you made it this far thank you very much for listening, I really appreciate it and I hope you're having an okay day even after that topgunburnbook thing and all this drama

Oh, my dear. As Saint Kesha says, "Don't let the bastards get you down. Don't let the assholes wear you out. Don't let the mean girls take your crown, don't let the scumbags screw you 'round, don't let the bastards take you down."

First of all, don't worry about the burn book people at all, because most of their posts have zero notes. It's just a couple bitter people who think being mean is edgy, and no one is even following them. So, that is a non-issue. It doesn't affect you.

And don't worry about AO3. You didn't do that. It does suck, but it's not your fault, and it's not the end of the world.

The thing that happened when Top Gun: Maverick came out and brought new fans into the fandom is that the fandom got big. And that is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, you have all these wonderful creators who are just discovering the movies and the characters, and they're bringing in great new stories and art and meta. I've met a lot of wonderful new people who are just like you: They just want to have a good time in this fandom and interact with other fans who share their passion. And honestly, most people are like that.

The problem is that big fandoms have big fandom problems. Think of it like this: Before TGM came out, the Top Gun fandom was a small town. Everyone active in fandom literally knew everyone else, either firsthand or from a, "Hey, you wrote _______; I love that story! Oh my gosh, and you're _____'s friend? That's awesome. She's the best." This creates a harmonious atmosphere, because everything is personal, it's small enough to be self-governing, and because everyone knows everyone, everyone is accountable for their actions.

After TGM came out, Top Gun fandom is no longer a small town. It's a big city. And it has the same problems that all big cities have. People generally don't know anyone except the people in their immediate circle, so that causes factions and in-grouping, and an "us versus them" mentality. This is why you get shipping wars and stuff like that. The fandom is too big to self-govern, and everyone is here to have fun, so it's not like we're going to elect a governing system, but between that and the fact that everybody doesn't know their neighbors personally, there's no accountability anymore. So for one, there's crime now. For example, there has been a lot of theft since more people joined the fandom. New fans are just straight up stealing content from other people and acting like it's their own. And what are we going to do, call the cops? No. It's just something we have to deal with because we live in a big city.

And, yes, the relative (and, on Tumblr, often literal) anonymity of being in a large fandom where no one knows you does encourage some people's terrible behavior. I talked about psychological and sociological studies of anonymity a little while ago, and the gist is: When anonymity is an option, the general chaos of the system does increase, but individuals just act like themselves, but ... moreso. Think of it like the Captain America serum or the mask from that Jim Carrey movie. Anonymity, even perceived anonymity like being just one person in a large system, just shows what you're really like inside. It dials you up to 11. And most people are kind and leave thoughtful questions or wonderful comments in ask boxes, or just go around with positive thought memes made up of happy emojis just to brighten others' days. That's most people. This small, ugly portion of the fandom that is using the fact that they cannot be held accountable as an excuse to hurt people is aberrant. They're the ones who don't belong here, and you can't let the fear of being their target keep you from enjoying all the good things a big city can afford you. Like, small towns are the bomb, but there are wonderful things that big cities can support that small towns can't. Like International Street where you can get different food from all around the world. Big art galleries. More resources for mentorship. More clubs and opportunities for you to find exactly your niche, and people who share it with you.

You didn't do anything wrong. Things grow and expand. You should be enjoying everything this city has to offer. If you feel comfortable, I would love you to come off anon and message me, and we can talk about getting you comfortable putting yourself out there in this fandom, and maybe I can connect you to some resources or some other really great people in the fandom. We want to hear from you. We want to talk to you. We want you to publish your work. We're happy you're here, truly.

#asks answered #top gun fandom #long post

[thelasttime]

My neighbors have kids and they run and scream til 11pm everynight. And i'm suppose to stay quiet cause "Is JuSt kIdS" but also have annoying dog that barks at EVERYTHING and it truly sounds like it's in PAIN. Annnnd they also put music super loud til late at night. And their house is connected to mine.

I hate loud noises. I also never leave my house so i live in hell. And i wish death on the whole family (minus the dog and kids - so just the parents)

ask them to turn down the music!! at the very least, they should really be more considerate :( this is sooo sucky

#asks #asking you this* #anonymous

[exmormondragon]

I don’t know how many of you have heard of The Littlest Angel

This book here. I’m pretty sure this is the version my mother has, though it’s been long enough that I can’t remember. I’ve already talked about one of the little picture books that I was read a lot as a child. This one is another one, and it doesn’t sit with me very well either.

It’s interesting how many little cutesy stories are so… I wanna say ‘malicious’, but I don’t think the authors intended to be manipulative/teach children unhealthy beliefs. Just like people in the church now, these authors wrote their books with the best intentions because they believed it.

But still. It’s so easy to make a bad moral seem good just because it’s in a cute picture book.

In this case, it’s talking about a young Angel in heaven, about six years old. Presumably he died young, I guess, though that’s never mentioned in any fashion. He’s just been in heaven for forever.

But he’s a bad singer, and he keeps dropping his halo, and getting in the other angels way. He’s kind of a sucky Angel. But he tries his best.

Then Jesus is finally supposed to be born on earth, and all the angels visit God to give the newborn a gift. There’s a lot of gold, and treasure, and all sorts of arts and valuable things.

The littlest Angel wants to give a gift too, but he doesn’t have anything. Nothing, that is, except his favorite box. It’s a very important box to him, and it contains a few small things. A dog collar, a smooth stone, a butterfly wing. All his precious treasures, from when he lived on earth.

And because he has nothing else to give, he gives that, the one most important thing he has in his post-mortal life.

And God picks that as the greatest gift of all. The box starts to glow, and rises into the sky. And that is the Star of Bethlehem that shone in the sky for Jesus’s birth.

Now, there’s a lot of practical, realistic, and metaphysical problems with this whole book, of course, not least of all that apparently the Star is a glowing box with a dog collar and a rock in it. But hey, magic is magic I guess.

My real problem with this book is the fact that it’s teaching children that they must give up everything to God.

There are a lot of parables and stories like this, such as the Widow’s Mite, the old woman who gives her only coin to the church as her tithe and is praised over the rich man who gave a ton (but was only a little of his wealth).

It teaches that no matter how poor you are, how little you have, how burdened and helpless and depressed and stressed, there is always more to give.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think it’s bad to give your all into something, a project, into helping other people.

Actually, wait, no, I do. Sorry, but keeping some to yourself is important. You have to take care of yourself if you want to more effectively help others. Take your medicine, earn money, fulfill yourself emotionally, whatever you need, and then you’ll be able to give (and receive) help a lot better.

So yeah, I’m actually against the whole premise. The idea of giving every ounce, of losing everything for someone, seems inspiring. And there may be situations where it’s necessary, I don’t know. I’m the first to advocate for context.

But very specifically, the church creates and proliferates these stories that specify giving your all to the church. Literally telling you that it’s virtuous and good to give all your possessions, monetary and emotionally, to the LDS corp. And teaching them as children, too.

Not only that, but it’s often specified to help the church over your neighbor. I’m sure there’s better examples but the one that comes to mind is the Ten Virgins parable, where they have to burn oil lamps for the whole night. Five bring enough and extra, and the other five only bring enough to fill their lamps. When the night is long, the latter five run out, and ask the first for some of their extra. The former refuse, saying then they won’t have enough. Sure enough, the five virgins who didn’t bring enough are damned to Hell, just like all the failures in parables.

So, as the theme goes, give all you have to the church, so you can be saved, and don’t give any of it to your friends and family or the needy. Instead, teach them to give all they have to the church, because then they can be saved too.

And so it goes in the Mormon Cult.

#exmo #excult #exmormon #leaving

[donnerpartyofone]

The top floor of my building should have been a floor-through apartment that our genius landlord sawed in half to accommodate a steady stream of dissatisfied and newly claustrophobic renters, while the bottom two floors have washers and driers and dishwashers that are actually hooked up properly. We've never been close enough with our usually-creepy neighbors to ask to use their utilities, so when the first floor people just moved out, I got the bright idea to do some laundry before somebody else moved in. On their way out they warned us that the drier "sucks", but I had no idea what I was in for. First of all I fucked myself over by picking the wrong spin cycle on the washing machine that's too complicated for my caveman-ass brain, so everything came out wetter than any load I have ever taken out of any laundry machine ever. I thought I could get away with this by just resigning myself to running the clothes through the sucky drier more than once or twice, or for just however long it took, but hours later it's still just tossing all my shit around in a deep non-draining pool of warm, filthy-looking water. I eventually took about half my stuff out, hoping that would help, and hung it around my apartment which makes it look like a pipe burst in here. Still deciding whether to just keep re-running the same clothes on the incredibly pathetic "high/very dry" cycle until they're just extremely damp instead of soaking wet, or if that is an eventuality that will just never, ever come to pass and I'm just finding out that I'm an even stupider piece of shit than what I knew this morning. OH WELL.

[spockwitharock]

ok so i binged all of the "bad' star trek movies and here's my thoughts. spoilers under the cut.

TMP: Meh. The effects were not good enough for that many self-indulgent shots of the Enterprise from outside (I'm sure they were good at the time but they really haven't held up). It feels like they were trying to stretch the run time, which is weird because it's 2 hours and 15 minutes long?? It just felt like there wasn't much of a movie there.

However, Spock's outfit upon returning to the Enterprise and "this simple feeling" kinda redeem it a bit for me. Overall I don't really dislike it but it was not outstanding.

(also the uniforms were a choice and i think it's a choice we should collectively forget about)

Finding Nimoy: Actually kinda good? I think people shit on the Search for Spock because it's right in between the Wrath of Khan and the Voyage Home but honestly it's not terrible. It's definitely better than TMP and TFF.

I wish they hadn't included the pon farr scene, but having seen the movie I understand the choice a bit more. It's kinda cool that they didn't back away from such an alien interaction on screen. I think it's bold that they didn't baby the audience by explaining it too much and that they were willing to risk the potential cheesiness of taking the Vulcan stuff seriously. That said, I wish they had found a better way to incorporate it than horny teenage Spock. It's just weird and gross.

My other gripe is that they could have handled Spock's regeneration better. I think it would've been better if he'd just been brought back to life the same as when he died, but whatever David put in the genesis juice left all that it created a bit unstable, leading him to still be weird and messed-up. I think David and Saavik having to deal with a full-strength wacked-out Spock (minus his soul) would have been just as interesting as "spock is baby now isnt that wild??"

The katra thing is a bit weird but it's not terrible. I like the scene with Sarek asking Kirk about what he's done with Spock's immortal soul. Bones having to deal with Spock literally living rent-free in his mind is pretty interesting as a concept, though I do think they could have gone farther with it. I would have liked more of a focus on Bones and Spock's relationship since they had such an opportunity to examine it, and I would have preferred watching Bones be subtly weirder than mostly normal but with a few dramatic outbursts.

Overall though, I thought it was pretty good. Wrath Of Khan set the bar high and Search for Spock suffered because of that. It's not as good as its neighbors but it's certainly not as bad as TMP or TFF, and it seems a bit unfair that it just gets lumped in with them as being the bad trek movies.

The Final Frontier: oh no. oh no no no.

I think TFF wants to have its cake and eat it too. It wants to have witty banter (probably because they did it with the whales! we need to be funny too!!) but also to be grand and philosophical and it results in a tonal mishmash of out-of-place joking and totally deadpan commitment to whatever the plot was.

By the way, TFF was directed by William Shatner. While I think the writing was responsible for a lot of the suckiness of this movie, there is something essentially Shatnerian (if you will) about how seriously this movie takes itself. He's climbing a mountain. Why is he climbing the mountain? He wants to make love to the mountain. No, Will. He's climbing a mountain because it's funny and you should've left it at that.

Okay, I don't want to go all cinema-sins on this movie and complain about little details. I lied. I do want to do that. Here's a few gripes.

First of all. Could they really not think of anything more useful for Uhura to do than be a taxi driver, fetch Scotty his chicken nuggies and dance provocatively? I know they sideline Uhura all the time but sheesh they could at least pretend she has a job.

Secondly, the whole "men like us don't have families" thing is so inexplicable to me. Spock and McCoy both clearly have important relationships with their parents, which in McCoy's case is specifically pointed out in the movie. Also, they didn't need Sybok to be related to Spock but did that anyway (I'm on the fence about counting them as family because they're not close, but Spock cares enough to not shoot him so there's that). Unless family means being married and having kids (and if so, the resolution that Kirk, Spock and McCoy were family all along implies they're married, which I of course embrace but doubt was intentional.) they all have families. TFF undid their character development in order to do it again. I'd like to introduce my own concept here: the character development hamster wheel, which is basically exactly what it sounds like.

I left Kirk out of the last bit because they did him even dirtier. They forgot about Sam Kirk entirely. Towards the end of the movie, Kirk mentions he lost a brother, but got him back. Sam Kirk stayed dead, to my knowledge, so I guess he means Spock, not his brother brother. I know Sam Kirk (until SNW) was just like 10 forgettable seconds of William Shatner with a mustache but still.

Okay, enough ranting. What this all boils down to is that it's trying too hard. It wants to be funny and is willing to stretch way too far for jokes. It wants to be philosophical and commits wholeheartedly to its bonkers plot, resulting in the tone changing randomly from joking to serious and somehow failing at both. It wants desperately to have a message but has nothing to say.

but okay at least it gave us "not in front of the klingons", which is possibly the best part of the movie.

#star trek #star trek the motion picture #star trek the search for spock #star trek the final frontier #hopefully i didn't snark too hard #tff fans forgive me pls

[meirimerens]

I'm sorry if this is a weird question and its totally ok if you dont want to answer it but, if you dont mind, how did you enjoy your experience in art college? Do you have any tips or things to say to those who want to or are considering following the same path? I'm finishing high school in some months and i really dream of persuing art in the Academic's Way but everyday i fear not being able to "get a proper job" or "be a 'productive' functioning member of society" if that's what i decide to do (or even worse: Getting a job, or just getting into college, but starting to dread (making) art. I think this is what messes with me the most. I know how capitalism can make you hate your job and i dont know if i'm ready to. Idk. Go through that when it comes to art-making). I really love drawing and making art and studying and observing art and there's nothing in the world I wish to learn more about than it, but suddenly I feel so much doubt & fear & etc... again sorry if this is too personal, you definitely dont need to answer if you dont feel like it !!! hope you have a good night/morning anyway

Hello my darling i can try to answer that

long to follow:

let me start with a few things/disclaimers of sorts which weighted Quite A Lot in my ability to enjoy college and that might be wildly different where you live:

i went to an art college in France (because. i live here) and through post-highschool education without having to worry once about being in debt in my early twenties. i have no loans to pay back. i could go back to the school and get a master without needing to take one, i could decide to go to a different uni without having to worry about debt. i don't have on my back the Weight you might have, if you're American, to know you might have to reimburse thousands or tens of thousands of bucks in student loans.

another thing: i did not, and do not have still, parental pressure to Get A Job. my parents always have been insanely supportive of my desire to go to art college, and even as i now, today, am overcome with doubts and "damn i should do other studies to have a chance in the job market", they've never been like ":/ you're not gonna go very far in life with that art degree…". they want me to get a job i will Like bc they've accumulated Sucky Jobs their whole lives but they've never mocked me for my art studies path, for my desire to work in the arts/literature. they're not people who value Being A Good Capitalism Pawn And Doing A Sucky 9-5 Until You Die, which i am very thankful for, but it might not be the case for your family, your friends, your culture.

ok now that The Lore is out of the way let me keep going

our art college experiences WILL be fundamentally different unless you go to the Specific one i went in france. the functioning of that school is apparently even very different than its own neighbors within the country, so everything i say will be vastly different for you, period.

art college To Me mostly brought me four things: new ways to see, speak of, decipher, understand, and make art (so valuable); new frameworks to talk about and understand my own art and others (SO VALUABLE!); new skills (namely engraving and photography); and fantastic people to meet. if you do go to art school i Pray you meet people who are so interesting so different from you and do art in such specific ways that you will have your world rocked. to me, just these 4 things fundamentally Changed Me (for the best), and even if i get no money from it i consider that experience so anchored in me.

this is likely a Culture thing, but most of us in art school knew Damn Well we had a lot of chances to not make money with our art LOL. like the recurring joke was "étudiant en art aujourd'hui, chômeur demain" ["art student today, unemployed tomorrow"]. and it wasn't a… big deal? like it wasn't a Hustling Culture at all. number of my classmates were fucking hippies (AFFECTIONATE) LOL.

that's a lot of rambling to say that i wasn't 1) brought up in a Money-Centric family who will push me out of the house so i can go #grind and are perfectly comfortable with me taking time to build a portfolio bc covid kinda prevented me from doing that teehee 2) studying in a Money-Centric school. even if, today as i did then, i'm very much aware i might not have the Best Perspectives For A Bountiful Coin-Getting Future, i still have the ability to Go Back To School if i want without it being a sure way to get myself in thousands of bucks in debt.

our experiences Will be insanely different, so LET ME GIVE YOU A FEW TIPS THAT MIGHT OR MIGHT NOT WORK FOR YOU

connect with people. YES it's hard and harder if you're shy you're gonna have to do it.

go to any lectures or whatnot that interest you so you can 1) connect with people 2) Meet New Interesting Faces

if your school brings artists from Outside for workshops/lectures/whatnot, ask them question… look at their work… etc… some schools have Working Artists as professors so if there's one whose work you love TALK TO THEM ABOUT IT.

if something your professor says Interests you, asks them for more reading on it, more references, etc… even if you don't read em! it will 1) show them you care 2) give you more stuff to come back to if you ever DO want to read em lol.

if your school has photography/engraving/design/whatnot classes that interest you, jump on the occasion. it might Unlock something in you, and that's a skill you can market anyways.

if some students in your school decide to make a little.. school newspaper, or artists' group, or this or that, JUMP ON THE OCCASION. again, that might be a marketable skill later. you can even try to make one yourself!

in case of another covid lockdown: CHECK WHICH OF YOUR CLASSES HAVE POSSIBILITIES TO BE HAD ONLINE! a lot of art history classes can be online, but most classes where you learn a new skill With Your Hands will get fucked over if covid hit. my school relied A Lot on you Coming To It and being on your own in huge rooms and working on your own and then meet professors about it, so then covid hit, a Huge Part of the actual work you did in school got fucked over, which made my 2nd and 3rd years Not The Best. if you can, try to have a good balance of classes you can have online and classes you have in-school so you don't get Too fucked over if another plague hits.

if your school organizes like… exhibitions, or has artist calls for projects… keep an eye on em. participate if you can. i didn't participate in a lot during my own years and i'm sad about it :( don't do like me!!! actually bite life as it comes baby.

damn that's long. ok. tldr: we Will have vastly different experiences. that's unavoidable. here ^ were some tips.

from me to you + something i might abide by: if you Love art hugely, but feel like Making It for money so you can eat will make you feel like shit… well i can understand. i can empathize. at the end of my cursus, most students are kinda expected to become self-employed artists, but as you can guess… rough life. SO! if you love art but Making It For Profit fills you with dread, here are a few ideas from me:

study art history! even if you're not interested in being a professor of that (which is also A Good Thing To Be + my 1st year art history professor easily one of my favorites i've had), museums or galleries or institutions sometimes look for people who've studied that for mediation jobs (when you welcome a public and Tell Em about what they're looking at). you can study art history Broadly or focus on little things. for ex. i might decide at some point to go back to uni for a art history focus and maaaybe even prehistoric art focus.

what else. if you an artist Now try to participate in zines, or make your own even if they suck so you can put that on a resume (and again, IF you go to art school and your classmates/YOU start a little school newspaper… that shit goes in the resume!!!)

if you have any time and/or motivation, get yourself some online classes about like. adobe suite (you can pirate it honestly) or generally softwares that Art People Love. again -> marketable skill babey!!!!

i'm not sure if Any of that is valuable to you. i wish you all the best in this Bitch of a world.

#ring ring (answers) #anonymous

[thesparklingwriter]

CELESTEEEEE HAPPY NEW YEAR *yeets candy at you*!!!!!!! i hope you'll have a pretty good and not totally sucky three hundred and sixty five days ahead of you!

now i shall descend into your ask box with zhongli brainworms and fic ideas because we are both utterly soft for this man yes yes.

1 ) this is based off of personal experiences, but you know zhongli likes leisurely walks right? so how about him and the reader visiting another region ( a nice romantic vacation if you will ). they go out, grab something to eat, go sightseeing but then a wrong turn is taken when and suddenly he and the reader might be lost and broke.

2 ) in zhongli's bio and lore in the wiki, it's hinted that he keeps pet thrushes ( the birb ) as pets. it's a really cute thing in china where older men and women take their pet birds out for walks and flex on their neighbors because look, look at how cool and cute their birds are. but the thought that zhongli is soft for birds...jhgvbhjhgf this man can't be a hottie and a sweetheart at the same time no stop-

thanks or reading these random brain thoughts! hope you're doing well and be kind to yourself ( istg PLEASE be kind to yourself- ).

AINE HELLOOO HAPPY NEW YEAR!! THANK YOU FOR BEING SO SLAY AND MAKING 2022 SO FUN!!

I HOPE 2023 GIVES YOULOADS OF MOTIVATION TO WRITE FICS THAT WILL MAKE ME SOB <3

thank you for bringing Zhongli fluffcanons into the new year i don't think i could have asked for a better way for it to start

i can totally see this happening, like he gets distracted by something historical an obscure and then, lo and behold, you're stuck in the middle of nowhere. I think he'd definitely make a point of ignoring any simpler way to get home, in favour of spending extra time with you out in nature, and even though he knows the way he'd still let you lead, just because it's amusing to watch you get all flustered. he'd probably step in before you get too annoyed though pahah

aine I'm gonna be real with you, since the last time you mentioned it, i was CONVINCED he was walking birds on a leash and i was so confused i can't even begin to explain. i have since found out that there are no leashes involved but i think it would be so funny if he said he was taking his bird for a walk (i imagine he'd give the tiniest, cutest little bird a traditional name that probably means 'conqueror of demons') and you just start trying to get a leash on the bird for half an hour. But imagine him and his birds that would be so yum i love it

and yes i promise I'm being nice to myself, and you better be too. I hope the new year has been treating you well!

#celeste is talking to aine :) #ugh i love the way you and rin descend into my asks with zhongli fluff #its just so yum

[tempural]

[same anon as before] yeah ok I respect that. I mean when it comes to how the usa is comedically sucky u probably get the difference in vibe between online randos sayin "my house is a shithole" [funny] or "my neighbor's house is a shithole" [kind of an asshole]. but also i don't think people should be forced to dox themselves before they make a joke so idk where that leaves us. well thanks for the time of day and for being more polite than your average internet user

I don't know where that leaves us either! If you'd like to further discuss this, we can have a conversation off anon in DMs :)

#asks