Dude You’re So Insanely Talented I Can’t

HEAR YE HEAR YE, THE LESBIAN CANNIBAL SHOW “YELLOWJACKETS” HAS BEEN RENEWED FOR A SEASON FOUR

she really went ‘what’s the quickest way to get him off before practice’ and then started talking about art… i’m just saying…

THIS SCENEEEEEEEEEEE

atp as dancers

taglist: @girliism, @imperishablereverie, @faiztsheap

tashi duncan as dayanara vega

if you're bad, she'll say so. better form, point your toes, arch your back. she's strict, but she's good. there's a grace behind her movement quality, an easiness that looks natural to her. she also had a knee injury (a few years back) and now has taken up a teaching position. if you're good, she'll tell you, and she'll be unbelievably proud of you for making it a few more steps.

patrick as gavin morales

he's sharp and fierce, confident in himself and his abilities- and as he should be. he's overflowing with talent, all hips and chest, spotting on point. his moves stick, never flowing unless they need to be. he's good at being himself- after all, everyone wants to be him.

art as kurtis sprung

he's mastered the classics and foundation, starting in ballet and creating a whole new interpretation of fusion. his movements are fluid and slick, he knows how to control his body, his muscles and his strength. he dances for himself and his own comfort, turning different genres into a style that's completely his own.

𝗠𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗙𝗮𝗶𝘀𝘁 BTS of 𝚆𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚂𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 | 2021

WHITE COLLAR .

Tashi Duncan, Art Donaldson, and Patrick Zweig were never meant to be criminals.

They were meant to be icons—flawless, untouchable, transcendent. The prodigies of the court. They were supposed to be the kind of legends etched into history books and Wheaties boxes, draped in gold and immortal praise. Together, they were the wings, the sandals, the laurel crown of Nike herself—divine symbols of strength, speed, and victory.

But fate, as it often does, had a different trajectory in mind.

Tashi's career ended in a single, brutal snap—an injury that never quite healed, physically or otherwise. Patrick spiraled beneath the weight of expectation, his once-electrifying talent drowned out by inconsistency and a reputation he couldn’t outrun. And Art, sweet, unshakeable Art, lost the one person who ever made the tour feel like home. When his grandmother died, something essential inside him went quiet. He didn’t walk away from tennis. He simply stopped showing up.

The three of them could’ve faded then. Could’ve let the world move on without them. Could’ve become cautionary tales whispered about in locker rooms and bar corners. But they didn’t. They wouldn’t. Being forgotten was never going to be enough.

The spark came from Patrick, as it often did. He was crashing in another woman’s bed—charming, broke, and always a little too clever for his own good—when he noticed the vase. It stood on a pedestal near the window, backlit by city lights. Porcelain. Imperial yellow. Eighteenth-century Qing dynasty. The kind of thing you see once in a lifetime, if you're lucky—or reckless.

While she was in the bathroom, he did a quick google search. Qianlong era. Estimated value: nine million dollars.

That night, Patrick did something he never did—he scheduled a second date. Then he called Art. Then he called Tashi.

The plan was stupid at first. Then brilliant. Then inevitable.

Ten years later, they were infamous.

The trio had become the most elusive white-collar criminals on the international stage. They slipped through countries and identities like water, leaving behind only splintered champagne bottles, forged documents, and the distinct scent of audacity. Their work was seamless, often beautiful, always just out of reach. They didn’t chase greatness anymore. They stole it—paintings, diamonds, tax codes, ancient artifacts, entire reputations.

And despite the dossiers, the witness statements, the surveillance photos and whispered confessions, not a single case ever stuck. No court ever held them. No handcuffs ever locked.

But there was you.

The head of the FBI’s White Collar Crime Division in New York. Unshakable, relentless, methodical. You’ve built an entire career on patterns no one else sees, on connections no one else believes in until it’s too late. You know them better than anyone else alive. You know their methods, their tells, the rare moments they falter.

They know you, too.

You’re not just a threat—you’re a problem. The kind they can’t buy, charm, or blackmail their way out of. They laugh about you sometimes, over drinks in villas under fake names. But lately, the laughter’s been thinner.

Because you’re getting closer.

And this time, they feel it.

tagging: @kimmyneutron @babyspiderling @queensunshinee @hanneh69 @jamespotteraliveversion @glennussy @awaywithtime @artstennisracket @artdonaldsonbabygirl @blastzachilles @jordiemeow @soulxinxthexsky @voidsuites @elsieblogs @deeninadream

this picture is actually making me go insane because what do you mean he just LOOKS LIKE THIS ???? his nose omggg i CANT

PEDRO PASCAL, CHRIS EVANS & DAKOTA JOHNSON Materialists promo | ph. Charlie Clift

heavy is the head…

YELLOWJACKETS (2021–)

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