#'n now i got this idea which will clash with 2 prompts

[didderd]

should.. should i try drawing fell sans every day for a week leading up to his birthday? 👀

[renjunniex]

Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader Series

Abomination

Omega Part 1 | Omega Part 2 | Shape Shifted | Ice Pick | Venomous | Frenemy | Restraint | Raving | Party Guessed | Fury

Prompt: Derek has gotten his pack together meaning, talking to Isaac has officially become impossible. However, that doesn’t mean you’re gonna stop trying. Your powers have stirred up again and it’s time you got answers. Luckily, Deaton seems to have some.

a/n: guys writing this has genuinely been so fun, thank you to those who continue to support this story! This is my first official work on tumblr so I’m happy to see that it’s doing pretty well! Anyways, buckle up, make a snack it's a long chapter! love you guys and hope you enjoy this next chapter!

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“They’re coming back, so we don’t have much time to talk.” Deaton expressed, trying to hurriedly clean Scott’s wound. “What is that,” Scott asked. “Rubbing alcohol. You don’t want it to get infected, do you?” Scott rapidly shook his head before Deaton continued on explaining, “You’ll heal the same. Just not as quickly, because of Derek.”

“Okay, how do you know all this,” you butted in, trying to comprehend the current situation. “Actually, how do you know anything,” you clarified.

“It’s a long story. What I can tell you is that I know about his kind and even a little bit of yours,” you blinked in shock, “his kind, I can help.” He finished off what he was doing, turning to the dead man on the table, “This… this is something different.”

“Do you know what did it?”

“No, but the Argents will and this is the crucial part. They’ll have some kind of record or book. It’ll have descriptions, histories, notations of all the things they’ve discovered.”

“All-,” you stuttered, “The things,” your best friend had finished for you, “How many different things are there?”

You heard a car approaching and panicked, Deaton rushed you off to hide but not before mentioning to you that he would explain more later. Scott and you hid in the supply closet but considering your lack of supernatural hearing, you could only get bits and pieces.

A paralytic toxic, sliced through bone, no idea of the creature responsible, but killing may be it’s only purpose. All terrifying notes that you really didn’t want to think about. Soon enough the Argents left with their hurt egos in tow and you came out of hiding. Only for you to get a call from Stiles, someone had been murdered at the auto shop. Scott had urged Deaton that all information could wait before leading you both out so he could get to his meeting and you could get to Stiles.

~

“Stiles!”

You had caught the attention of both the Sheriff and your best friend. You sprinted, tackling the boy, wrapping your arms around him as fast as you could. He gasped in shock before securing his arms around your waist in return.

“Are you okay? What happened? Why were you here so late anyways?” You had sent a rapid fire of questions towards him before he could even process your presence.

“Y/N, Y/N, I’m fine, just trying to comprehend the whole thing,” you nodded sitting next to him on the edge of the ambulance. Sheriff patted his son’s shoulder, “I’ll give you two a moment.” He walked over to his group of deputies, clearly in destress about his son. You two were now surrounded by silence, you had no idea what to say. Scott had told you that he mentioned everything you were worried about to Stiles but since Derek and 'The Clash of the Werewolves' had happened later that afternoon, you two never actually got to talk about it.

“I’m sorry,” you both turned to each other apologizing simultaneously, you chuckled at your inability to have decent timing.

“You first,” you offered which he took, “I’m sorry, about everything, how I made you feel, ignoring you, everything. It wasn’t fair to you.” He had grabbed your hand, squeezing it in anticipation. You nodded, “It’s okay, I’m sorry for how I acted, I shouldn’t be upset at the fact that you care for someone other than me and Scott.”

“It’s okay.” You both smiled at each other, it was nice to be back to normal, even if it was only for a split second.

“Scott told me, you know.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “About what?”

“About your crushy wushy on Isaac,” Stiles smirked keeping his eyes forward.

“Shut up! I do not have a crush on Isaac!”

Stiles chuckled, “Fine, fine.” He took a small beat before continuing, “But you do have a crushy wushy on him.”

You punched him in the shoulder and when you got a groan of dissatisfaction you smiled, “Okay you got me there.”

He looked at you and you both took a moment to just laugh at yourselves. You were still able to joke around at a time like this, at least that meant you guys still had some trace of the plain ole teenagers you used to be. You tapped his shoulder, catching his attention, you pointed to Roscoe, “Do you want to get out of here now?”

He gave you a disappointed shake of his head, “Can’t, Dad said they have to keep it for evidence.”

“Damn, guess we better call Scott or we’ll be stuck here, huh?”

You called Scott and apparently it wasn’t his night either, Allison hadn’t been able to show up, but he had assure you that he would be there as soon as he could. “Scott’s coming, Allison didn’t show for their meet up. Why does it feel like everything is falling apart?”

“Because it is,” Stiles sighed.

“Fair... Hey so what exactly happened in there?”

“So much.”

Stiles took the time to fill you in on what he had just witnessed while you guys waited for Scott. It would be impossible to believe for anyone else but at this rate you could never hear anything surprising anymore. Scott had finally shown up, allowing you guys to get in and get out of the cold.

“You okay?” Scott asked softly, to which Stiles gave a slight nod, “Yeah, you’re right. It’s not like you. I mean, it’s eyes were almost, like, reptilian.” Stiles took a small breath, “But there was something about them.”

You tilted your head, he didn’t mention anything like that. “What do you mean?” Scott asked.

“You know when you see, like, a friend in a Halloween mask, but all you can actually see are their eyes, and you feel like know, but you just can’t figure out who it is?” You grasped the sides of the front seats and launched yourself forward to stick yourself in the middle, “Wait you didn’t tell me any of this.”

“Are you saying you know who it is?” asked Scott.

“No, but I think it knew me.”

~

The next morning, you got up as fast as you could. You were on a mission today, Deaton had said he could tell you more about what you are and you were determined to get it out of him. You wanted to know. No. You needed to know, you needed to learn to control whatever is it. To understand what you are, who are you.

When you made it to the clinic, you saw the closed sign. However, you knew Deaton always came in earlier on the weekends to get more paperwork related things done and you were right. His car was sitting outside the employee entrance. You took your chances on the door being opened and of course it was locked, luckily you lived with the boy who worked there and that same boy always left his key on the front door table. You scrambled through your bag and grabbed the key, unlocking the front door, you entered.

“Deaton?”

The man, rounded the corner, a very obvious confused expression sat on his face, “Y/N, nice to see you, how did you get in?” You sheepishly raised your hand holding the shiny key, “Your employee has a very bad habit of leaving this in the key dish.” He breathed a light chuckle, “Okay well, what can I do for you?”

“I want to know Deaton. I want to know what I am. I need to know how to control it.”

He gave a warm smile, “Well I think I can provide some very useful information, come on, let’s talk.” He gestured for you to follow him and you did just that, slowly you could feel the nerves start to bubble up. This was it, all the questions, all the worries, they were going to be answered. Once and for all you could get rid of this internal struggle. Then maybe you could start to be of use.

“Okay well let’s start with the simplest of the questions you probably have, what are you, but to understand what you are you have to first know the whole story.” You gave an unsure nod, “Okay, how do I learn the story?”

He pointed, turning around to a cabinet and grabbing a book from inside, “You let me tell you, now I know it may seem silly but knowing everything in the end, will allow you better control. It will allow you to push your limits without breaking yourself.” He placed the book on the table, you swore you saw a small cloud of dust puff out from under it when it hit the surface. Deaton had flipped to a page, almost like he knew by heart where to go.

“You see in the world of the supernatural, there is this constant fight for balance. Good versus evil, predator versus prey, brute force versus strategy, and with that comes the ones who are given the responsibility to maintain that balance. Some give guidance, some protect and fight along side, and some stand alone pushing back either side when it becomes too much. You happen to be of the second group.”

You took a moment to process, “Okay, what else?”

“Well in each group, you will typically see unique qualities now some can and will overlap but the important distinction of each is what will show you the path in the world you will take. Now the ones who give guidance, they are like me, someone with a foot in the supernatural door way but still human. They are people who have tapped into the lines of the power the supernatural provide but it doesn’t necessarily run through their veins. The ones who stand alone, these are species whose only purpose is to oversee the supernatural, to maintain it’s balance and to even protect the secret of their world.” He took a pause before glancing over at you, noticing your intense stare at the pages in front of you, he smiled and continued.

“This last category is the one that’s pretty special, now while you might find that some who provide guidance will also take part in packs, it is not necessary. You, however, are part of the ones who are commonly drawn to packs, like betas and omegas, and grow stronger through pack bonds, like alphas. This is because, like Scott, your supernatural power runs through your veins; bitten or born, once you are supernatural it is biologically apart of you. This is why your eyes glow just as Scott’s and Derek’s do. Meaning you have to learn control just like they do.”

For the first time since the beginning of the lecture you spoke up, “So that’s why when I get, let’s say, angry I could make the locker doors in the hallway open and shut.”

He tapped the table proudly, “Precisely. It’s almost similar to instinct. Now let’s talk more about you specifically. You’re familiar with mythical creatures like fairies, correct?”

You snorted, “You’re kidding, right?” When you saw no change it his expression, yours dropped, “Are you trying to tell me I’m gonna sprout wings?” He laughed lightly and shook his head, “No, no but like I said, you need to know your whole story.”

“Now before humans became the overwhelming populated race, the supernatural was much more prominent. Meaning, yes fairies in the traditional sense did exist, however with time these creatures had to evolve to stay hidden, to stay protected. Creatures like pixies, became things that we would now call nature sprites, werewolves adapted to have the ability to shift between man and wolf, rather than staying in between the two states. Your species, Y/N, evolved from naturally having wings, ‘the fairies’ to what we would now call, ‘nymphs’.”

“So, what I’m hearing is two hundred centuries ago I would’ve had wings?” You joked trying to shake off the shock of the information.

“Possibly, yes.”

You laughed, “Okay, Doc, so how exactly do I go about all this?”

Deaton turned, once again grabbing a book from the same cabinet and facing you once more, “By learning, learning the spells and rituals of your people. Learning how your people coexisted with the other creatures will give you guidance on your purpose.”

You nodded, “Okay, can you teach me.”

“The basics, yes,” he assured, “however, after that it will be up to you. Unfortunately for you, you live in a time where nymphs no longer habitat specific regions, meaning you’ll have a lot of practicing on your shoulders.” You raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?” He shrugged slightly, “Well back when nymphs first evolved they still only lived in certain areas, some were protectors of the mountains, some the forest, and some were specifically healers to help provide protection to the living creatures. Eventually, they came to merge as they found when the humans became the greater population in numbers, they needed every bit of knowledge to protect not only those around them but themselves as well.”

“Great so I have more homework because they decided they wanted to be overachievers. Well, when can we get started?”

He slid the book towards you, “How would now, work?”

You smiled, “Now, would be great, but two more questions before we get started.”

“All ears.”

"Well first, how did I become like this?"

"My best guess is that it's in your blood, nymphs typically don't see their power take full effect until adulthood however an outside force like an alpha can push that power to come forth sooner."

"Because I'm drawn to packs like betas and omegas?"

"Precisely, what was your another question?"

“When we were searching for Lydia and when Scott fought Derek, I felt my senses become blurry and dull then all at once, they sharpen, my sight was sharper, my hearing was clearer; do you know why that happened?”

“Actually, I may, it could’ve been your instincts taking over. Similar to how the full moon causes werewolves’ killer instinct to override their senses. May I ask what happened right before this happened?”

“Well with Lydia, it was when we were driving down the road, I know I felt a lot of anxiety when it happened and when it was over I felt like I could see where Lydia was. With Derek, he was choking Scott when I had panicked, my mind went into almost overdrive when my hands slammed the ground. It caused a ripple in the ice and then he was on the ground, an energy was holding him there by the neck.”

“Sounds like when your instinct took over, it casted spells out of desperation. With Lydia it must have been a tracing or tracking spell and with Derek it sounds like you casted a counter spell. Taking a force and deflecting the same amount back on them. I say we start with those since your body has already used them once.”

“Okay, yeah.” You took a pause, “Deaton?”

“Yes?”

“I want to learning the tracking spell first. I want to be able to find Isaac.”

~

“Okay, Y/N, the first thing you need to understand is that your senses become blurry to be able to connect to the supernatural energy that runs through the world naturally. This is because a tracking spell connects you to those energies to send you the information on who you’re looking for.”

You were standing in the middle of the room, shaking out your hands from nerves, “Okay, so what’s the first step?”

“You first need to learn how to connect to the energy that flows through the world. Close your eyes. Relax. Try to let your mind go blank.”

Releasing a jagged breath you did as instructed, “You might start to feel faint since you’re now consciously trying to tap into your power rather than letting instinct take over, through time this will effect you less and less.”

Just like he had described when you relaxed your breathing and could feel your body slowly release, you started to feel fuzzy, almost sick. You tried not to worry, you would be alright, just take it slowly. A buzzing sound could be heard, like the sound an old lightbulb makes. It kept getting louder. And louder. And louder. Until it stopped, complete and utter silence. “Now once you feel you are ready, and only when you feel ready, think about Isaac. Picture him, his figure, the color of his eyes, his hair, maybe even a clothing item he wears a lot. Whatever you connect to him should be in your head. If you are properly entwined with the world’s energy it’ll know exactly who or what you’re looking for. And it will show you.”

All you could do was nod, afraid that too much movement would break your concentration and you did exactly what Deaton said. You pictured him. His beautiful curly hair, his soft blue eyes, his lacrosse jersey, his slightly awkward pre-wolf demeanor, his small laugh. Everything you thought of made you feel clearer and clearer, it was working. Then suddenly...

You saw his house, you were standing right at the front door. You looked around, everything looked normal and it felt so real. Except for one thing, in the distance there was a slight glow. Pointing you down the street, so you followed it and when you stepped into the glow your location changed once again. This time it was dark and wet smelling, you could see stairs right next to you so you made the journey down and there he was. The tall boy you adored so much was right there talking with Derek, he looked stressed. You tried to make your way over to him but as you grew closer the image started to disappear and like nothing happened you were back at the clinic. Your eyes snapped open, no doubt glowing as you could feel the slight heat.

“I found him! He was right there!” You spun to face Deaton, who had a proud look on his face, you had done it. You had successfully casted your first spell, no doubt out of pure luck and guidance.

“Congratulations, you seem to be a natural. You might find that spells your body has casted out of instinct might inherently be easier, which will make for good practice. It’ll allow you to become familiar with the energies your body connects to and the natural power that runs inside you, but for now I think you need to take care of somethings, come back tomorrow.”

“Okay!” You wrapped your arms around the man, making him stumble out of surprise, “Thank you, thank you! See you tomorrow!” You grabbed your bag off the table and sprinted out the door towards the abandoned station, your squeals of excitement trailing just behind you.

~

You had made it to your destination, you really hadn’t thought about what you were going to do and now that you’ve made it, you still hadn't. You looked at the entrance of the station, you took a deep breath, it was now or never. You didn’t know what you were expecting but you definitely weren’t expecting to find Erica trying to devour Derek’s face.

“That’s the last time you do that.”

“Why because I’m a beta?” At this point you were at the middle of the stairs, crouching behind the railing. You might as well try listening in, until you were caught at least.

“No because I have someone else in mind for you.” What the hell was that suppose to mean?

“Are we done?” Your body froze, this was the first time you had heard his voice, his actual voice, not the fake attempt to be intimidating voice. “Cause I have about a hundred bones that need a few hours to heal.”

From your very limited eyesight you could see Derek get down to Isaac’s level, grabbing his arm he snapped it. You felt yourself cringe at the sound, you could practically feel the fear radiating off the others in the room.

“You think I’m teaching you how to fight, huh? Look at me! I’m teaching you how to survive.” He dropped Isaac’s head, allowing him to crash back to the ground, “If they wanted us dead, why aren’t they coming for us now?” Isaac challenged his alpha, “What are they waiting for?”

“I don’t know. But they’re planning something, and you, especially, know that’s not our only problem.” You scoffed so he’s preparing them to survive by crushing their bones a thousand times over. Apparently he’s a worse teacher as an alpha than he was at a beta. “Whatever that thing is that killed Isaac’s father, I think it killed someone else last night. And until I find out what it is, you all need to learn everything I know, as fast as I could teach you.”

Now was the time for you to make yourself known if you were ever going to, tension was slightly better and Derek had stopped his rambunctious yelling. Plus you wanted to be able to shove in his face how much of an idiot he actually was and you couldn’t do that if he wasn’t in the room.

“Well doesn’t this seem to be the most exciting class ever?” You leaned forward against the railing, your elbow sat on the beam and your palm resting on your cheek. If there’s was one thing you were good at, it was playing it cool. You saw all four heads in the room shoot up in your direction, three had confused looks on their faces and one looked more irritated than before.

“What are you doing here, Y/N? How’d you find this place?” Derek questioned in his most famous stance, feet shoulder width apart and arms crossed. You hopped down the last few stairs using your grip on the bottom beam to playfully swing your body around the corner. You raised the book Deaton had given you, “Training but since I found my way here I figured ‘why not drop by and say hi’, pretty nice of me don’t you think?”

Even from a distance you could never miss the way Derek rolled his eyes, so dramatic, almost cartoonish. He had turned to leave the room but you spoke up again, “You know, me, Scott, and Stiles may not know everything there is to know about the supernatural world, I mean they barely know how to talk to girls without blacking out so what can you expect,” you shrugged, “but even so, you’d be very surprised on how much information we tend to find out. Such as what the creature actually is, well to be more accurate what it looks like and why it does what it does.”

That information definitely perked his attention, “Since when would you ever share information with me, you don’t trust me,” his eyes narrowed at you, analyzing your figure. You took a second to look at the trio of new betas and their expressions could almost make you laugh if it weren’t for the situation. They were so clearly astonished, like they couldn’t imagine anyone talking to their alpha like how you were. You huffed slightly before sitting on a spare create nearby.

“You’re completely right, I don’t trust you. In fact, I quite literally hate you. But the fact of the matter is, I don’t want to have to see them,” you pointed to the beta trio, who had jumped slightly at the sudden gesture toward them, “die because of you.”

“So if that means I have to swallow my pride, as much as it would so deeply pain me to do so, to willing you give you information because maybe, just maybe, it’ll save them from dying due to your stupidity… I’ll do it. Because they say they know what they signed up for but I know from experience, you definitely didn’t give them everything.” Silence. He knew you were right, he couldn’t argue with you even if he tried.

“Y/N-.”

“I’m not finished Derek Hale.”

“When I tell you the things I know, do you think for once, you could not be an insufferable prick?” You smirked and Derek gave you another narrowed look before silently walking away. You took the opportunity to slowly make your way to the trio, sitting back down on a different box. You gave a shy smile and a small wave, it was like you were a completely different person, it made the beta trio uneasy, “How have you guys been?” They stared at you clueless, none of them could comprehend your question, too thrown off by the situation. After some time, Boyd cleared his throat, “We’ve been okay.”

You nodded satisfied, “That’s good, I’m glad, we’ve been worried about you guys, you know?” Erica scoffed, “Oh yeah.”

“Of course, Scott doesn’t want to see you guys get hurt, none of us do. Did my whole spectacle back there not show that? I could go do it again for you guys. Derek’s pretty used to me yelling at him, I did it all last semester.” Isaac snorted, covering his face slightly when he realized it was a lot louder than he had anticipated. Erica gave you a sour look before she grabbed Boyd’s arm and the two walked away, towards their alpha.

You were now left with the boy that was your whole reasoning for being here. The air was suffocating to say the least, neither one of you could find the words to say. Your knee bounced from the nerves as you looked all around the room before sitting on the ground. “Don’t take Erica’s attitude too personal, she’s just a little hot headed from her rejection earlier.” You waved the boy off, “Yeah, I saw it, I don’t blame her, personally I’d dig my own grave if that happened to me.” Isaac smiled clearly amused by your imagination, “Like you would ever get rejected, people practically begged you to go with them to the winter formal, boys and girls.”

“Maybe, but I only wanted to go with one person and they never asked, so I guess I attract silent rejection,” you were testing the waters, to see if maybe he knew who you were talking about (him of course). “Really, who?” And failure. You shook your head, “It doesn’t matter, anyways, how are your bones coming along,” you joked.

“Never better, I would say.” What a liar, you could clearly see the fractures. “So, training, huh? What training were you getting?”

You pointed to your eyes and made them flash, “Learning how to control this.”

Another silence fell over you, definitely awkward and you didn’t know what to say next. Everything was different now, technically you guys were on different sides. That last time you saw each other he was throwing your best friend into machinery and you were sending his alpha into the ice. What were you supposed to say? You certainly didn’t know but maybe you should take this chance while you had it.

“Isaac?” His head turned to you, giving you all of his attention.

“I have to be honest, I like you, a lot. Okay, which is why I’m going to tell you exactly what I think. Plain in simple, I think you’re making a mistake being here with Derek. I don’t trust him and I never have. I don’t want to see you or the others get hurt. I care so much about you.”

There was a pause, you could tell he was taking it all in, processing everything you just said. His eyebrows furrowed almost like he was offended and you could tell this wasn’t about to be a good end to your conversation, “Frankly, I don’t need your advice. And you’re the ones that need to be careful.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Because I know you follow Scott around and if you guys get in the way Derek won’t hesitate to move you out of it.” You blinked slowly, in shock of what you were hearing. You knew you were taking a risk talking about this whole different sides thing but you were worried for him. You didn’t know what to expect but it certainly wasn’t a hostile answer. You grabbed your bag and stood from your spot on the ground, “Fine. It was you by the way.”

“What?”

“It was you that I wanted to go to the winter formal with.” you said turning you back away and making your way towards to the stairs. You knew you were just upset and you would regret your next sentence but at that moment you didn’t care, “You put one hand on Scott or Stiles and the next person breaking your bones won’t be Derek,” you flicked your head to the side, looking at him, flashing your eyes, “It’ll be me.”

~

After that horrendous weekend, you at least would be able to distract yourself by focusing on the weird lizard problem you had. You haven’t had the chance to tell either of the boys what you knew about yourself, mainly because you were so distracted over your talk turned argument with Isaac. However, you could entertain yourself with the free show you were receiving right now.

“I’m so sorry about the other day. I’m trying. We’ll get through this. I know because I love you.” You felt a giggle rip through your throat as you watched Stiles recite Allison’s words to Scott. You placed your textbook in front of your face to try and hide the soft laughs coming from you, Stiles had already pulled at your ears for laughing the last few times.

“I love you more than… Oh, my God! I can’t!” At this point your giggles had evolved into full blown explosions of laughter. “You and Allison just have to find a better way to communicate.”

“Come on!” Scott whined, “You and Y/n are the only ones we can trust. Is she coming to the game tonight?”

“Yes, okay? Message complete.”

“Hey, chill out Stiles, you know the risk of those two being seen together,” you tried to reason. His head whipped up at you, “You wanna try?” You raised your hands in defense, “I never said that, plus it was my turn the last time.” Stiles now brought his attention back to the boy next to him, “Alright, now tell me about your boss.”

“He thinks that Allison’s family keeps some kind of record of all the things that they’ve hunted. Like a book.”

“He probably means a bestiary.” You nodded in agreement with Stiles.

“A what?”

“A bestiary,” Stiles repeated and Scott had started to lightly chuckle, “I think you mean bestiality.” You felt your whole body dropped, he couldn’t be serious could he?

“No. He definitely means bestiary,” you deadpanned.

“It’s like an encyclopedia of mythical creatures.”

“How am I the only one that doesn’t seem to know anything about this stuff,” Scoff complained.

“Okay, you know, you guys are my best friends, you’re a creature of the night and she’s…” he took a pause pointing up at you before sighing dramatically, “we still don’t know what she’s is yet, but nonetheless, it’s kind of like a priority of mine.” You had completely forgotten to tell them that you knew. Well that’s awkward.

“Well actually, I talk to Deaton this weekend and I actually found out a lot, but this is more important so let’s focus on this for now,” you rambled slightly. They both looked at you with expecting looks before Scott started speaking, “Okay, we’re coming back to that for sure,” Stiles nodded in agreement, “But if we can find it, and it can tell us what this thing is..”

“And who.” You and Stiles said together.

“We need that book.”

~

“So you’re a nymph?” You nodded at the omega walking next to you, you guys were heading to your lockers, waiting for Stiles to show up.

“Yep, at least that’s what I’ve been told,” you confirmed. You reached your locker, opening it to grab your textbook for your next class. Scott doing the same. Unfortunately for him, Stiles slammed it closed, very clearly out of breath, “She says it has to be- office.” He exasperated, trying his best to catch his breath before taking off again down the hall.

You looked at Scott, “Is he talking about the bestiary?” The boy nodded in response, “Yeah, apparently Gerard has it in his office.”

You snapped, if you were a cartoon character you were sure you would have a lightbulb hovering over your head, “If Allison’s invites him to the game and she can swipe his keys, me or Stiles could go look for it in his office.” Scott had patted you on the shoulder excitedly, almost like a child.

“We just have to wait it out, now.”

Later that night, you guys were set up at the field the boys were getting geared up and you were stuck running last minute plays with Coach. The anxiety was already building up, especially because you had seen Boyd and Erica show up for the game earlier, which could only mean something was potentially at play.

You had been thinking about it since you had seen their sly smiles, they knew you had seen them. Erica especially made you uneasy but that was only because she always had that sultry look that you could just tell was very under practiced. Like she wanted to look like she had all the control in the world. Boyd just made you sad, the poor boy just wanted friends and Derek manipulated him. You couldn’t pick favorites anymore though, as of this weekend they were all on the other side. There was no trying to protect them when you had to protect your friends. Luckily you had the crashes of the game to distract you.

“Come on! Is that thing even a teenager? I wanna see a birth certificate!”

Your eyes focused back on the game, not like you had any choice with Coach screaming in your ear.

“Who or what is that genetic experiment gone wrong?” Coach had directed his question to Stiles and you.

“Eddie Obomowitz, Coach,” Stiles replied with a sigh. You leaned over your best friend slightly, “They call him ‘The Abomination’,” you finished as Stiles gave a shimmy for piazza.

“Oh, that’s cute.” Coach commented sarcastically before allowing his focus to move back to the game.

You looked to the bleachers towards where Allison and her grandfather were sitting. Allison’s head turned to Gerard and you could see her speaking, Gerard said something back while shrugging off his coat, handing it over to the girl. You smiled, she did it, you gave Stiles a pat on the shoulder. A silent marker to let him know everything was going well. You slowly made your way towards the pair in the stands, making sure to stay out of the elder man’s eyesight. Allison was dangling the keys over the side of the bench and you swiftly grabbed them from her. Now all you had to do was meet up with Stiles and you two could look for that damn book.

You jogged into the silent lot, seeing the spastic boy already looking for you, “Stiles,” you called. He turned to face you, his face going from relief to then frozen. He was looking behind you. Confused, you spun around only to see the same tall curly haired boy you had just argued with over the weekend. Without a thought you threw to keys at Stiles, “Go, I’ll take care of this.”

Stiles gave you an ‘are you sure look’ clearly concerned at the circumstances, “It’s fine, I’ll catch up.” He huffed before nodding and started his venture towards the school.

“What are you doing here Isaac?”

“I had to see you.”

"Okay, why?"

"To apologize and beg you to forgive me."

His words made your body relax but you didn't know what to say. You kept your arms wrapped around your figure, his eyes were practically burning into you.

"I'm giving you five minutes," he nodded rapidly, lightly placing his hand on your folded arms to guide you further from the lightpost. You looked at him strangely, "I still can't be seen in public, I am still technically a fugitive you know." You let him guide you away from the area that was being shined on by the light.

When you reach a spot he deemed adaquate, you could tell he was starting to get nervous, he rocked back and forth on his feet like a child.

"Okay, your five minutes are starting now," you huffed.

"Um, okay, well. First, I want to start by saying I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did, I don't even know why I said it. I really don't think I've gotten a hold of the whole rage induced behavior thing yet." There was a pause as he looked at you expectingly, when you gave him notion to keep going he began to speak once more.

"And I do appreciate that you care so much about me, no one ever has. I care about you too, you know and I don't want to see you get hurt." You gave him a questioning look not sure what he meant. "I just mean that you guys do need to be careful because Derek is dead set on fixing this the way he wants to, Erica and Boyd are also going to follow him no matter what and.." he started to stutter.

"And?"

"And I'm going to as well."

You sighed, "Isaac-."

"You can't change my mind (Y/N). I can't be an omega, I won't. But that's not the only thing I wanted to say."

You straighten your posture, "Okay what is it?" You saw him scratch at the back of his neck before he made eye contact with you, “I wanted to go with you too.”

You blinked, “What?”

“The winter formal. I wanted to go with you too, I just couldn’t work up the nerve to ask you.” You felt yourself smile and you were sure you looked like the cheshire cat at this point, “You did?” He nodded immediately in response, “Of course, you’re you, why wouldn’t I want to go with you?”

After that you couldn’t be sure how much time had passed, you two talked for a while. At some point you even slipped your hand into his, while you guys sat on curb. You guys both were unfortunately interrupted by a loud crash of glass. Your head whipped towards the school, looking back at Isaac who just shrugged, you motioned him off, “You can’t risk being seen, go, I’ll go see what’s going on.”

“(Y/n)-.”

“Go, Isaac!” You demanded already making your way to the school. When you got inside you saw Stiles and Derek on the side of the pool, Erica on the ground and Scott, transformed, holding a shard of mirror. Another crash could be heard this time from the creature escaping into the night.

*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧*⁠.⁠✧

“Okay what the hell just happened?”

a/n: okay guys sorry for the random finish I honestly had no idea how to end this chapter. I hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think! I promise there will be more isaac and y/n later on!

taglist: @somiaw @vvicaddiction

[mizutoyama]

The First-Year’s New Clothes

A/N: My entry for today's prompt "New Clothes" for @usernoneexistent "Back 2 School Chaos Challenge". Enjoy!

“Andre!” shouted his mother. “We’re ready to leave for Diagon Alley. What are you doing?”

“Making a list of the new clothes I need!” shouted back Andre.

“New clothes? Honey, we need to get you your school supply for Hogwarts. You have all the clothes you need already.”

“Not if I want to give a good impression,” replied the boy as he walked out of his room with a piece of paper tucked in his pocket.

His mother looked up at the sky. She sighed, resigning to the fact that there was no point in arguing with her son now. "Just grab onto the Portkey so that we can go," she said softly.

Andre hesitated for a moment, staring at the old vase. He wasn't a big fan of Portkeys, as he always ended up looking a bit green after using one, which clashed horribly with his purple Pride of Portree scarf. Then again, if he wanted to go to Diagon Alley, it's not like he had a choice. He finally made up his mind and grabbed the edge of the vase.

Suddenly, he felt a strong pull and he and his family were jerked into what Andre felt was a tornado before they finally landed in a small alleyway next to Diagon Alley.

“First, we’ll head to Ollivanders to get you your wand,” said his mother.

“Ok, while you do that, I’ll go see the new collection at Twilfitt and Tattings,” replied Andre as he started to walk away.

His grandmother caught him by the collar of his shirt. "Sweetheart, you have to be there for the wand to choose you."

And so, Andre followed his grandmother and mother into Ollivanders. He never imagined finding the right wand would take so long, but he finally ended up with an ebony wand with a unicorn hair core. He thought the color of the ebony made his wand look particularly chic.

Next up was Flourish and Blotts, where he once again tried to evade his family, but his mother gave him a pile of books to hold before he could even step away.

Next up was the cauldron shop, but thankfully Andre was allowed to go look at the window display of the Quidditch store with his grandmother. He knew he wouldn’t be able to play this year as no first-year ever made it onto the Quidditch team, but he couldn’t wait to be a great Quidditch player like his grandma. A very stylish future Quidditch player if he could just get some new clothes. With the right clothes, he could already get noticed by the captain of the house he’d be put in, which would most likely help during the tryouts during his second year.

Lost in his thoughts, Andre followed his mother and grandmother to Madam Malkin's shop.

"Are you here for your uniform?" asked a squat witch dressed in mauve, as she measured a girl around Andre's age.

"And maybe some extra outfits," added Andre.

"No," interrupted his mother. "Just the new uniform."

"But, Mum!"

"Andre, you don't need new clothes. You have everything you need at home, and you'll be wearing your uniform most of the time," scolded his mother.

"Well, if I don't make any friends because I look unstylish, I'm blaming you," pouted Andre, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I highly doubt 11-year-olds care about that," muttered his mother, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Andre's grandmother looked between him and his mother, then at Madam Malkin working on the girl. Suddenly, an idea struck her. She knelt in front of Andre. "What if I got you some materials so you can make your own clothes, exactly how you want them?"

Andre rubbed his chin, thinking. "I guess it could work. And with the magic I learn at school, I could make them even better!"

"You're not allowed to use magic outside of class," his mother reminded him.

"Pish posh! It's a magical school. Do you really think students don't use magic outside of class?" retorted his grandma.

But Andre was already lost in his imagination. He was already imagining all he could probably achieve by making his own clothes. He could make clothes for his friends, and even become a Quidditch player by day and a fashion designer by night.

Yes, he would definitely look amazing in his new clothes.

[charming-2d-boys]

For the prompts event, may I have a 2 and 8 with a s/o who is in a poly relationship with Chrollo and Illumi?

Oho, anon, I like the way you think! 😂

Thank you for the request and I hope you'll like it! 🙇💕

2. “Sharing is caring, now give me the hoodie!”

8. “Can you please…? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe put a shirt on?!”

A/N: Went a little bit overboard with that image of Chrollo in the kitchen... because I’m weak for him and I couldn’t help it 🤤 sorry not sorry

Also, it’s getting harder and harder for me to write for Illumi (it’s the face, I’m telling you. The voice changes, but the face never does and it makes it very hard for me) 😞

-----

   “Lumi, aren’t you cold?” You asked as you rubbed your upper arms, feeling the goosebumps coating the surface of your skin. Your boyfriend looks at you before shaking his head, going back to typing on his laptop.

   “No, I’m good.” You roll your eyes, unsurprised. Illumi could probably be left naked in the middle of a blizzard for a whole day and the most he’d say is when he could leave because he’s busy. The perks of being a well-prepared assassin. He could’ve at least asked if you wanted to cuddle him to warm you up a bit… apparently, Illumi was still a little lacking in the romantic department.

   You got up, not hearing the shower anymore, which meant Chrollo was done and somewhere else in the house. A tea sounded like a good idea. Maybe it’d warm you up. As soon as you stepped into the kitchen, you were greeted by Chrollo’s back facing you. He was shirtless, with a pair of dark grey sweatpants hanging slightly off his hips, showing off his back dimples.

   “You know, I’m not saying this because I don’t appreciate the view. Because believe me, I do. But… Can you please…? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe put a shirt on?!” Chrollo chuckled before turning around, taking your favourite mug, that was filled with one of your favourite teas, and handing it over to you before turning around and taking his own mug.

   “Why should I? You said you like the view.”

   “Have you been spending time with Hisoka again? You’re starting to sound like him.” Chrollo chuckled again as he held you by the waist. “Seriously, aren’t you cold?” He shrugged in response while you arched an eyebrow in suspicion.

   “Illumi?”

   “Yes?”

   “Can you bring me the hoodie next to you, please?” You remembered he had left one of the common hoodies, as you called them, on the couch. The common hoodies were big and baggy, even for your two boyfriends, and could be freely used by any of you. That was just so no one would fight over hoodies, though you had a growing collection from taking either one or the other’s hoodies. You had returned some… while others were still in the back of your closet, ready for whenever one of them would be gone for longer than usual.

   You were snapped out of your short train of thoughts by Chrollo’s fingers slightly tensing on your waist and Illumi’s silent appearance as he was holding the hoodie you had requested, eyeing the two of you. Even now, they weren’t too fond of the idea of sharing you. But the two of them fighting over you had made you so anxious that you actually proposed the current relationship. You knew that they were both too stubborn and set on having you. And if they couldn’t have you, no one could.

   “Guys, please, don’t fight.” You said, looking from one to another as they looked at each other without a hint of emotion. Good thing they both cared enough about you and your happiness and were calm and rational enough to not actually get into fights.

   “What did you need the hoodie for?” Illumi asked as his gaze moved to you.

   “Chrollo here just came out of the shower and I don’t want him to get sick.” Illumi’s grip on the fabric tightened and you raised an eyebrow.

   “He’ll be fine.”

   “Illumi, this is a common hoodie.”

   “Maybe I’m cold.” The incredulous look on your face made Chrollo chuckle.

   “I literally asked you if you were cold a few minutes ago and you said you were fine. Plus, with your training, you should be fine, right?”

   “Maybe I got cold in the meantime.”

   “You would’ve put it on if that was the case, but I’m sure it isn’t. And if you are cold, there are other spare hoodies in the closet. So, if you don’t want to get into an argument with me because of this, you know what they say! Sharing is caring, now give me the hoodie!” You put your hand out expectantly, Chrollo smirking behind you. Illumi glared at Chrollo before handing it over to you and you gave it to your boyfriend. He had put his mug down and let go of you, which was the moment your other boyfriend pulled you into his embrace, almost looking like a kid holding his favourite toy that he refused to share. You could only sigh as you turned around a little, turning to your side as one of your arms went around Illumi’s waist and you beckoned Chrollo over as well, hugging him with your free arm.

   “I know I’m asking a lot by having you both in a relationship because of me. But, please, try to get along as much as you can. I really enjoy spending time with both of you and knowing that you at least tolerate one another makes me more confident in my choice.” You heard Chrollo sigh and felt him kiss your temple while Illumi’s head rested on your shoulder. You knew that they’d try. They’d probably never like each other enough to actually be friends and you knew there would be other moments like this. As long as you showed them both the necessary affection and kindness, they’d get along and not in each other’s way. None of them wanted to lose you over something so trivial. Plus, that smile of yours whenever you saw the two of them being able to be near each other without clashing made it all the more worth it.

[flannels-and-fannypacks]

Will They Won’t They | Part 2/4 [Reggie Peters]

Pairing: Reggie Peters x fem!reader

Words: 7.5k

Summary: Reggie and reader were the best of friends up until middle school where they drifted apart and decided never to speak to each other again. What happens when a shared algebra class and a resulting detention force them to spend and increasing amount of time together. Will it be enough to overcome the mutual hate? Or was the relationship doomed from the start.

WARNINGS: swears & ANGST

A/N: hey babes it’s drea posting :) i hope you enjoy this part as much as mimi and i did writing it! again, if you enjoy our writing, please like, comment, and reblog! and if you want to be updated, dm us to join our taglist! sending my love - drea :) 

“Come on, let me take you out! We need to get you a new outfit for the gig coming up,” Rose insisted, dragging you to her car. 

“Who said I was coming?” you frowned stubbornly, tugging your arms back but to no avail. 

“I did, now let's go,” she strongly urged, pushing you into the backseat while she hopped in the passenger side and Luke hopped in the driver’s seat. 

“Rose, he’s coming too! Oh, hell no!” you refused, giving the boy a pointed look. 

“Sorry (N/N), I can’t drive this car, it doesn’t have learner’s insurance,” Rose apologized. 

“Nice to see you Lady Bunny,” Luke grinned with a wink and you sighed. 

“Okay, let’s just get this over with, okay?” you prompted and Luke nodded turning the keys in the ignition. 

“Whatever you say bunny, you’re the boss.” 

“Would you stop calling me that Patterson, it’s worse than when Reggie calls me Cookie,” you grumbled, your nose scrunching up in disgust. 

“Oh lighten up, at least you’ve got some cute nicknames,” Rose chuckled and reached a hand back to hold yours. “We’re gonna have a blast (N/N), just trust me.”

Walking past countless amounts of stores, it seemed as though Rose’s plan to find you something nice to wear was pointless. You and Rose had very different ideas of fashion, ideas that clashed far too much for Rose’s liking. 

“There’s no way I’m wearing that!” you exclaimed, eyeing the brightly colored jacket in Rose’s hand. 

“It’s so pretty though!” she insisted. “The texture, the color, the price? It’s a bargain, (N/N)!”

You rolled your eyes. “Then you buy it for yourself,” you told her, pulling out a simple knit sweater from the rack.

“You know what, I will,” Rose settled before looking at the sweater in your hand. “Oh you can’t wear that! You’ll look like a grandma who got lost at a rock concert!”

You frowned at your friend, holding the sweater to your chest. “I always wear things like this,” you pointed out, slightly hurt.

Rose tugged the sweater out of your hand and shoved it back into the rack. Luke popped his head up from the other side of the rack. “Yeah, but at a rock gig, you can’t go as your typical self. A poor little bunny like you would never survive a place like that,” he explained with a pout. 

“Lord, have mercy,” you grabbed your necklace pendant and kissed it, frowning when you realized you weren’t wearing your normal silver cross. 

“Is that like some white person good luck thing you picked up?” she asked suspiciously and you chuckled. 

“No, I just thought I was wearing a different necklace. I don't know how I could have mistaken it.” 

“What is it?” Rose inquired further, taking the pendant from your hands and looking at the details. “A horseshoe? I didn’t take you for a horse girl.” 

“Yeah- no, I’m not… Reggie gave it to me in middle school, he won it at a county fair or something, I can’t remember,” you explained. 

“Reggie gave it to you?” Luke inquired. 

“Thought I said that already Patterson,” you shot back with a roll of your eyes. 

Luke fought the urge to say something sarcastic back to you. “No, I’m just- Reggie?” he repeated. “I thought he...hates you, and vice versa.”

You walked down the aisle, skimming through the various articles of clothing. “And you’d be correct,” you told him. 

“It was before you moved here,” Rose explained. “She and Reggie used to be best friends up until middle school,” 

“Yep, but that’s in the past and we’re in the present so let’s focus on that,” you rushed, already feeling uncomfortable about the topic.

“No let's not,” Luke rested his forearms on the rack in front of you, resting his chin on top of them. “Tell us more,” he pleaded, pouting like a child.

You glared at the boy, tossing a sequined shirt at his face, making him stagger back. “And why should I, it’s none of your business, no offense Rose, and I’ll probably tell you at some point anyway,” 

“None taken cariña,” she chuckled and continued looking for some clothing that would be appropriate for the gig. 

Luke sighed, following close behind you. “But why can’t you tell me now?” he whined like a child. “I adopted you-”

“Against my will,” you cut in, flicking his forehead.

“Details,” he insisted. “I’m just saying, shouldn’t we be close now? Don’t you trust me?” 

You took a deep breath. “Of course I do, Luke,” you reassured him, your patience thinning. 

“Then why not tell me?” he pressed.

“Because it hurts!” you finally broke. 

The two friends seemed to freeze at your sudden exclamation. The quiet small girl was cracking and revealing the broken china doll inside. 

“It hurts, okay?” you repeated. “And having to tell the story of how I lost my best friend for some stupid reason that I don’t even know...it hurts beyond belief. The worst part is that he probably doesn’t even care. I loved him, okay? I loved him because he was my best friend. Even when I had no one I had Reggie and I used to think that nothing in the world could ever tear us apart.” you admitted. “When we stopped talking, he took a piece of me with him. And I know that I am never going to get that back.” 

Luke quietly moved over and past the racks of clothing pulling you into his chest and giving you a tight squeeze. 

“Bunny I’m so sorry. I had no idea,”

You let out a humorless laugh. “No one knew,” you told him. “It’s not your fault, Luke, you were just curious.” 

“Still,” Luke said. “I feel so bad. Maybe I could try and talk to him and-”

You shook your head repeatedly. “Maybe let’s not,” you countered. “It’s in the past now. There’s nothing I can really do about it and the last thing I want to do is rope my friends into this, too.” 

“Well then how about this,” Rose suggested, giving you a prompt to change the topic while holding up a long sleeved white turtleneck along with an oversized black shirt sporting the album art of a famous rock band.

“I actually think I might be able to tolerate that,” you let out a soft chuckle. 

“I’m hoping you have some ripped jeans at home, maybe some converse?”

“Yeah don’t worry, I’m not entirely hopeless,” you assured them and Rose laughed while Luke just pulled you in tighter for a brotherly hug. 

“Look at you being mature! We love you, bunny,” he told you, swaying as he held you tight in his arms. 

“Love you, too, I guess, Patterson,” you laughed. “Let me go, you’re crushing me!”

The second Luke pulled away, he leaned back in to ruffle your hair. “Now come on, Bunny, the gig starts in three hours. You all down for lunch?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you nodded. “Why not?” you replied. 

Rose wrapped an arm around the both of you. “Anything but hotdogs,” she giggled. 

“Agreed!” you quickly vetoed any other option and ran giggling with Rose to grab lunch leaving Luke to pay for the clothes. You were lucky he adopted you otherwise that would be a tricky one to get out of. 

—

“I feel like this is an illegal number of questions to have on a test, it’s literally taking so long to mark these,” you grumbled to yourself, scribbling notes with red ink on the margins of the freshman biology test. 

You had lost count of how many detentions had passed and lost track of how many were still to come, at this rate they could go on until the end of the year and in all honesty you probably wouldn’t notice. 

You looked over at Reggie who was marking some short answer questions on a test, seeing his bright red check mark where there clearly shouldn’t have been one. 

“That’s wrong”, you said, looking back down at your paper. 

“What do you mean?” 

“That. You marked it right, it’s wrong,” 

“Why?” he asked curiously, putting his pen down so he could listen to you. 

“Because,” you sighed exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “the mitochondria is not the party house of the cell,” 

“Well I say the mitochondria can do whatever it wants,” Reggie proclaimed, adding another check mark to the test. “Because it’s the boss,” 

“No that’s the nucleus,” 

“The what?” he formed and you banged your head on the desk in front of you, 

“How in the world did you pass freshman science,”

“Like the rest of us, I cheated,” he countered and you looked at him with a shocked expression on your face. “Oh my God, lighten up Cookie, I was kidding, it’s been four years and I’ve barely taken any science classes since I just forgot,” he rolled his eyes. 

You moved your head back to your work, only to toss the pen down in frustration moments later to try and massage a hand cramp. 

“Stupid pen, stupid tests, stupid detention,” you grumbled under your breath, honestly feeling like you wanted to cry. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sat back in your seat, debating whether you should fake an emergency so you could just go home. 

Reggie silently reached over to your pile of tests and eyeballed splitting it in half, taking the unmarked tests and placing them in his own pile. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said flatly. 

“Sooner we finish the sooner we can go home and it didn’t seem like you were going to go any faster,” 

You stayed silent for a moment, carefully reaching for your own again before whispering, “Thanks,” to which Reggie only gave you a nod. 

The silence between you both was excruciating. It shouldn’t have been this way, it should have been easy to talk to him like it always used to be. 

So, you took a deep breath and unclenches your jaw, casually continuing to write while asking, 

“So how’s the band?” 

There was a short silence, probably due to his slight shock in you even asking or trying to have a civil conversation and his first instinct as usual was to block it. 

“Why do you care?”

You rolled your eyes and continued to do your work, at least you tried that was all you could do. The ball was in his court. 

When he looked up and saw your tired expression he realized there really didn’t seem to be an ulterior motive at this point so with an audible sigh he answered, 

“It’s great, we’re working on writing songs for our demo CD,” 

You nodded and checked off some multiple choice questions before you heard Reggie clear his throat and spoke again, 

“How about you? How’s the family?” 

“They’re alright,” you said, your lips pressed in a thin line. “I mean as good as they can be. Things haven’t changed much.” 

Reggie nodded in understanding, aware of your family’s financial situation. 

“Is that why you push yourself?” he asked again. You froze, your hand holding the grading pen not moving. “Hours in the library, studying until your brain practically explodes with information.” You raised an eyebrow curiously at him, making him blush sheepishly. “I just know from uh, Mr. Mallard. He likes to talk, you and I both know that.” With a small smile on your face, you nodded. 

“I guess you’re right,” you finally answered. “If I get a scholarship maybe I can at least make my way through a degree without plummeting further into debt.” You kicked aimlessly at the floor. “I just feel so guilty. Like...if I don’t do the right thing or make one stupid mistake I’ll disappoint my parents.” 

Reggie frowned, setting the testing papers down. “You know you’d never disappoint your parents, Cookie” he told you. Chills went down your spine upon realizing he didn’t have the usual malice and sarcasm behind his name for you. “They would never be upset with you.” 

You laugh humorlessly. “Right again, Flicka,” you sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe the better term would be I would be disappointed in myself? I don’t want to fail them or anything by slacking off. They’ve already done so much for me.” 

“But that shouldn’t stop you from just-” Reggie drummed his pen against his thigh as he thought of the right words to use. “living? Cookie, we’re still kids. The point of high school is to just let loose and have fun, not drown yourself in schoolwork and scholarship essays.” 

You playfully flicked a paper clip in his direction. “I bet you’d know all about letting loose, wouldn’t you?” you teased. 

Reggie grasped his chest, gasping in feign hurt. “You wound me, Cookie,” he dramatically exclaimed, making you giggle and roll your eyes. 

As the two of you continued your light banter, you were reminded of the days you and Reggie would spend at the park, competing to see who could swing the highest between the two of you. The weight on your back lifted slightly as you started to sense a bit of normalcy, no longer at each other’s throats for any reason you could find. It felt good to talk like this with Reggie, to “let loose” as he said and finally set down all the baggage you’ve been carrying since you two stopped being best friends. Everything in that moment felt right. Stress, detention, and ungraded biology tests long forgotten. 

After what seemed like hours passed, Mr. Siezlio came back to the classroom, announcing that you were done for the day. You and Reggie surprisingly continued your conversation outside of the classroom, Reggie sharing more stories of the band as you giggled with every shenanigan. However, the moment you stepped foot outside, Reggie’s composure changed. 

“Alex!” you exclaimed, running over to the boy. Alex had his arms outstretched, pulling you into a friendly hug that Reggie considered far too chummy. He narrowed his eyes at his best friend, watching and making sure his hands were where he could see them. 

Reggie walked over to the two, a scowl forming on his face. “Alex, what are you doing here?” he asked, bitterness visibly clear in his tone. 

The blond drummer raised an eyebrow in confusion at Reggie’s attitude, but decided not to address it. “(Y/N) and I have an AP chemistry project coming up so she’s going to sleep over at my place so we can work on it.” 

You grinned up at Alex. “We’re probably going to have to pull an all-nighter to get it all done tonight,” you told him, making him groan. 

Reggie’s lips fell to a thin line. “Good luck trying to do that,” he muttered. “Alex falls asleep before eleven o’clock. I’d pay to see him stay up past that.” 

Alex rolled his eyes playfully. “When my grade is on the line, I think I can manage,” he said. “Especially after that one experiment in class you left me to do, I think we both definitely need that A.” 

“Yeah, Alex can’t do titrations for shit,” 

“I tried my best,” Alex fought back. 

“And what did that get us?” you pressed. 

Alex’s head hung low. “Erm, a B,” he muttered. 

Reggie stared at the two in disbelief. He couldn’t comprehend this ‘nerd talk.’ “A B?!” he exclaimed. “You were disappointed with a B? I would have been happy with C-,” he shook his head and pulled his bag up higher on his shoulder, preparing himself to part ways. 

You shuddered at the thought of such a low grade. “I’d never even begin to imagine a C,” you said aloud. 

Reggie smirked at you. “Well, you are a nerd, Cookie,” he teased, making you shove him. 

“Ass,” you shot back. 

“(N/N), we gotta go if we don’t wanna stay up all night,” Alex said anxiously. 

You nodded, taking Alex’s hand in yours and squeezing it. Reggie glared down at your intertwined hands, anger bubbling rapidly in his chest. 

“Bye, Flicka,” you cheerfully waved goodbye. 

Reggie didn’t look you in the eye, only staring down at the sidewalk with his hands shoved in his pocket. “Whatever, Cookie.” 

—

Band practice the next afternoon -to say the least- was probably the shittiest the band had ever played. Luke and Bobby were incredibly confused why Alex continuously dropped his drumsticks and refused to make eye contact with anyone and why Reggie looked so angry that he could snap the strings of his bass. 

“Okay, guys, guys! Come on we have a gig in like a week! We can’t go out there playing like this!” Luke insisted and Bobby nodded in agreement. “Alex I haven’t seen you fumble this much since we tried to play football and Reggie you currently have negative three hundred and forty-five dollars and seventy-three cents in your bank account so I would recommend loosening up on the strings because none of us can afford more.” 

“Yeah, what the hell is going on with you two?” Bobby added and Reggie sent a cold glare towards Alex that didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. 

“What was that?” Luke asked, pointing in between the two boys. 

“What was what?” Reggie asked, his head snapping back to send the same glare to Luke. 

“Okay you two clearly have things you need to settle so get it out there,” Bobby nodded, motioning to the floor, metaphorically saying it was open for one of them to take. 

Alex took a deep breath and nervously started, “Well I think it’s pretty clear Reggie is mad at me it’s just I have no idea as to why,” he shrugged his shoulders. “D-Did I eat your sandwich or something? A meatball sub maybe?” 

“That’s not it, but did you? Because if you did you are dead to me,” Reggie said venomously. 

“No! No, I didn’t,” he insisted quickly, very much so wanting to stay alive and not murdered at the hands of his best friend. “But what the hell is making you mad Reggie, I’ve never seen you like this,” 

Luke and Bobby seemed to nod carefully in agreement and Reggie swung his bass around the strap so it was hanging from his back. 

“You need to stay away from (Y/N),” Reggie said in a cautionary tone, pointing directly at Alex. 

“Lady bunny?” Luke asked curiously with furrowed brows and Reggie just looked at him back with confusion before remembering the nickname. 

“Yeah, I guess, but seriously Alex, you shouldn’t be with her,” 

“What do you mean I shouldn’t be with her. (Y/N) and I are just friends! We’ve been lab partners since freshman year,” Alex insisted. “And in case you forgot I’m kind of really gay?” 

“That doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t be spending time with her!” Reggie exclaimed furiously. Was he mad that you were spending time with his friends or that you seemed to be getting just as close with them as he once was with you. Right now, that was all a muddled mess in Reggie’s mind and heart so naturally, he started spewing out words that probably didn’t even have meaning at that point. 

Bobby discreetly made his way to Luke. “Hey Luke,” he whispered. “I can go ask Rose to make some popcorn,” he shrugged. 

“Oh yeah, for sure, and tell her to come in, she’ll wanna see this,” Luke added, equally invested, as their two other bandmates seemed to really be going at it.

“Reggie, you need to calm down. (Y/N)’s my friend, too. I don’t know any of your past, but you can’t tell me I should just drop her completely,” Alex said in a level toned voice. 

“Oh don’t act like you know (Y/N) better than I do,” Reggie snapped. “I know her like the back of my hand, and I know she’s bad news.”

“Do you really even know her?” Alex pressed. 

“Of course I do! Who was there when she broke her ankle? Me. Who was there when her fish died? Me! And who was there when everyone else wasn’t?”

“Not you anymore,” Alex cut in softly. Reggie's rant stopped short. The teen stopped pacing to look his friend in the eyes. “Reggie, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but you have to admit to yourself, you still care about her.”

Reggie fumed silently. “I don't know what you’re talking about.”

Alex pressed his lips together. “I think you do, Reggie.”

“Alex you don’t get it! (Y/N) and me, that’s over!” his anger had sent him over the top. “Stop trying to say something’s there! It’s not!” 

“Listen to yourself Reggie, just listen to yourself talk! If you heard what I’m hearing I think you’d have a different opinion,” 

“Just-Just!...” Reggie pursed his lips and grabbed the neck of his bass pulling it back in front of him. “Can we just take it from the top,” 

“Y’know Reggie I think Alex has a point,” Luke butted in, remembering his previous conversation with you, realizing how much losing Reggie had actually affected you. 

“Oh joy,” Reggie sighed. 

“Just hear me out,” Luke continued, regardless of Reggie’s reluctance. “Why did you get into music in the first place?” 

“Because I loved it,” Reggie scoffed as if it was obvious. 

“No really Reg, be honest,” Bobby added. “Specifically when did you start playing music more seriously?”

Reggie bit his lip, hard enough to draw blood, tasting the metallic liquid in his mouth he shrugged his shoulders and flopped onto the couch. 

“I got into it after I stopped talking to (Y/N),” he admitted. “But what’s your point?” he asked. 

“You don't confront your problems Reggie,” Alex explained. “You came to music because it helped you block out the fact that losing her tore you apart.” 

“Well if it tore me apart then why am I still here, huh? Why am I happy? Why am I even alive? If she was my everything then how the hell am I still here?!” 

“Because she’s keeping you here,” Luke whispered. Reggie turned to Luke, at a loss for words. “Because even though you two had a falling out, you know that seeing her everyday at school...you’re glad she’s okay.”

Reggie ran his fingers through his hair. “You don’t know me,” he snapped back. “You don’t know what I think, or who I-I care about. You just don’t, so you can’t stop playing “mom,” Luke.”

Luke slowly approached him. “I don’t understand you,” he said truthfully. “You never open up or tell us anything. You say we don’t know you, you won’t even tell us anything. If no one knows you, then who does-“

“(Y/N)!” Reggie finally broke. The boys froze in their spots, only staring back at their struggling friend. “(Y/N), okay? She’s the only one who listened to me, the only one who cared. And now she’s gone because I pushed her away. All because I was so stupid and my pride got in the way. It’s my fault the best thing in my life is gone.”

Reggie realized what he had said and quickly pushed himself up and away from the couch. 

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” he shook his head and tried to make his way out of the studio. 

“Reggie wait!” his friends called back for him, but he shook his head and pushed his way out of the door just as Rose was heading into the studio. “Reggie come on! We’re sorry!” 

Biting the inside of his cheek he cursed under his breath, knowing that they were right. He did push people away before they got too close and right now he didn’t have the strength to blame himself so he blamed you instead. 

—

Reggie stormed into the almost empty library on Saturday, having had to walk to his detention from his home by the beach which was not close to say the least. 

When he pushed on the door to come into the library with such force it startled you as you organized the books and put them back on the shelves. 

Reggie didn’t speak to you as he tossed his things to the side and grabbed a cart, going to his designated spot in the library. 

You were careful to not try and push any buttons, knowing he was in a fragile state, it was kind of obvious, but it was even harder not to address. 

“Hey Flicka?” you said gently, trying to be as compassionate as possible. 

“What,” he spat, shoving some books onto the shelf without much care. 

“What’s the matter?” you asked, expecting to be met with barriers, that seemed to be all that comprised your relationship now. Walls, fences, barriers, and barricades. 

“None of your business,” he said, his breathing slightly heavier as the tears burned in the back of his eyes and the lump grew in the back of his throat. 

“I-I mean are you sure, you seem really agitated,” you noted and he didn’t respond. “Reggie you don’t have to hide anything. It can be my business if you want it to-” 

“No it can’t!” he snapped, throwing the books that were in his hands on the table. You flinched at the loud noise the impact made. “It stopped being your business the second we stopped talking to each other so just leave it Cookie,” his voice carrying the same hostility it did weeks ago. 

You paused for a moment, looking down at your pile of books before whispering, 

“They’re fighting again… aren’t they?” 

Reggie’s throat was burning, he wanted to scream into a void, empty himself of the pain because you were right, you were always right. Even when it felt like you didn’t know each other you were always there proving him wrong. 

His hands started to shake and he dropped the books he had just picked up again, turning around so you couldn’t see him. Reggie didn’t know if it was because he was embarrassed or if he just didn’t want you to worry. 

You wanted to reach over to your old friend, offer him some sort of comfort because you knew Reggie’s family and you knew how hard it was on him. 

So you did the next best thing. Pulling out your MP3 player from your pocket you went over to Mr. Mallard’s speaker system and plugged it in, turning up the volume to the max, letting the soft plucking of guitar strings fill the library and the hallway surrounding you. 

You went back to your pile and turned your back to him, giving him some sort of privacy, what you thought he needed. 

Reggie wasn’t sure if there was another time in his life where he had listened to this song and related to it more. 

So when he wiped his nose on his sleeve and turned around and saw you, he realized he didn’t want to be far away from you, he didn’t want to yell at you, he didn’t want that distance. 

So he quickly pushed the chair and table with wheels out of his way before stopping right behind you, carefully reaching for your hand that was resting by your side. 

When you felt his long slim fingers wrap around your own you turned around to look him in the eyes. They were still the same beautiful shade of blue and green, but unlike the last time you really looked into those eyes, they carried so much hurt. So much hurt and sadness that should never have been there in the first place. 

But through it all they said I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yelling at you, I’m sorry for all of this. 

And you nodded, back, accepting that apology. 

So he didn’t hesitate a moment, wrapping his arms tightly around you and burying his face in your shoulder. You nearly gasped in surprise as his grip around you tightened. It was as though he was afraid of losing you, and didn’t want to let you go. Lucky for him, you felt the same.

Slowly, your hands found their way around his neck. You could feel Reggie’s tears dampen your shirt, but you couldn’t care less. 

“It’s going to be okay, Reggie,” you whispered. 

Reggie sniffled quietly, shaking his head. “Don’t say that,” he murmured.

“Say what?” you asked.

“Say that everything’s going to be okay,” he continued in a hushed but angry voice. “Say that everything is all sunshine and rainbows when at the end of the day my parents will still fucking hate each other while yours struggle to keep their home.”

You stiffened under his touch. His words struck a nerve in you, but you pushed down the anger in you. He was hurting, and what he needed was a friend, not a fixer.

Instead, you squeezed him tight against you. “Then, don’t think,” you said. “Clear your mind and- and forget everything. Forget your parents, forget this stupid detention and the musty smell of these ancient books, forget me.”

Reggie dug his head deeper into your chest. “I don’t want to forget you, Cookie,” he murmured. “I-I don’t want you to leave me again a-and-“

You shushed him. “I’m not leaving, Flicka,” you reassured him. “I promise.”

Reggie let out another broken sob. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I-it’s just that we both don’t have a good record with those. Promises, I mean.”

“Let’s clear the slate,” you suggested softly. “Start over to a point where all broken promises of the past are nothing but a mere memory, okay?”

Reggie nodded, placing his hands over yours. “I’d really like that Cookie,”

You smiled, removing your hand from his cheek and linking your pinky with his. It was just like when you were kids, but slightly different. This time, it had so much more meaning of hope and love. “Then take my promise to your heart, Flicka, because I’m not leaving. No matter what.”

Reggie rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and letting whatever tears had gathered to fall down his cheeks. You lifted your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the spot right in between his eyes, letting your lips linger there a moment longer than they should have.  

“Dance with me Cookie?” he whispered. 

“Flicka, you know I suck at that,” you laughed quietly, ducking your head as your cheeks tinged red. 

“Don’t worry,” he sniffed as you wiped a few of his stray tears. “I won’t leave you hanging,” 

“Okay,” you breathed, allowing his hands to gently hold your waist while yours were wrapped around his shoulders. 

As you gently swayed in the library you could vividly see two young teenagers in a brightly lit room dancing to the same song. 

You could hear Reggie softly humming along with the tune, but when you opened your eyes and looked at him you were brought back to reality and realized what you needed to do, 

“I’m gonna call the boys okay?” you said gently and Reggie winced. “I won’t tell them. I was just going to stay over at Rose’s place tonight so maybe we could all stay in the studio.” you suggested. “So you don’t have to go home.” 

“Y-You’d do that?” he asked, a certain tone of surprise in his voice. 

You pressed your lips together and nodded, pulling away from him. 

Making your way to the phone behind Mr. Mallard’s desk, you dialled Rose’s house number first to ask if it was okay to have everyone over, before making the subsequent calls to Alex, Luke, and Bobby. 

After dealing with the phone you checked the time. Technically you still had an hour of your detention left, but for today Mrs. Hillside just swore you to honesty. 

As much as it made you anxious to do so you looked over at Reggie and raised a brow. 

“Should we call it? We can walk over to Rose’s place. I told Luke to bring some comfortable clothes for you,” 

“Sure,” he nodded and you hesitantly let go of his hand. For some reason it felt like it was too much at once. You just needed a few moments to yourself. 

All you ever wanted was for things to go back to the way they were, but now that it seemed to be happening it was a lot to take in and Reggie sensed that so he didn’t push farther, only grabbing his bag and walking quietly by your side as you left the school through a backdoor that was locked from the outside. 

The situation for you both might have been one to cause panic or worry, but right now you both relished the fact that your friends were sure to provide a wonderful distraction. 

—

“Lady bunny, you’re wearing your pyjamas already?” Luke chuckled from his spot on the couch while you walked out of the washroom, day clothes folded in your arms. 

“I intend on relaxing today, kidnapper, thank you very much,” you said in a matter of fact tone. 

“You still wearing my shirt to bed, Cookie?” Reggie teased and you stuck your tongue out at him before retorting with, 

“Still wearing that Star Wars underwear Flicka?” 

“Yikes,” Alex scrunched up his nose and Reggie’s cheeks went a darker shade of red than they usually were. 

“They still fit okay, it would be a waste,” Reggie fought back. 

“No one wants to hear that,” Bobby grimaced while you and Rose laughed together, relaxing on the futon. 

“Why don’t we play a game or something?” Rose suggested. “Just to pass time, I mean this is a sleepover isn’t it?” 

“That sounds like a good idea,” you nodded. “Any suggestions?” 

“We could play would you rather?” Bobby said, “I mean that’s a favorite right?” 

You nodded in agreement. “I haven’t played that game in a while, but I’m down.” Everyone gathered around the coffee table. Prepared to sit next to Reggie, you felt someone’s hand grab yours and tug you down. Looking to your right, you saw Luke smiling giddily at you. 

“As your parent,” Luke said in a motherly tone. “I need to sit by your side in case any inappropriate language is used.” 

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, Luke,” he said. 

Luke gasped, covering your ears and pulling you to his chest. “Language!” he hissed. “We have a bunny here and I don’t want you to taint her mind with your demon words. No fucks, no shits, no dicks.” You shot the boy a look before pushing him off you. 

“Would someone tell this guy I’m not five?” you rolled your eyes only to have one of your cheeks pinched by Reggie while he snickered and said, 

“You sure look like it,” You threw an empty solo cup at him. 

“Who wants to go first?” Rose asked with a wide grin. 

“Oh me!” Luke exclaimed, raising his hand and waving it around wildly. 

“Sometimes I don’t know what you’re on,” Alex sighed and the rest of the group laughed. 

“Okay, okay, um, Bobby would you rather smash your guitar or have it run over by a semi?” 

“That’s just cruel,” Bobby looked at Luke wide eyed and he just gave him a smirk in return. He sighed heavily before saying, “I’d like to think if I smashed it, it would be from rocking out so hard so I’ll go with that one,” 

“Okay now it’s your turn,” you raised your brows at Bobby.

“Alright, (N/N), would you rather be locked in a room with Reggie or Luke?” 

You scrunched up your nose. “Both are horrible options,” you began, making the boys yell out in response. “But the real question is: would I rather be babied to oblivion or be murdered?” you thought for a moment. 

“I wouldn’t murder you!” Reggie exclaimed. “That’s too easy,” he smirked and you gasped, slapping his arm. 

“Hush you!” 

“What would you do to torture her then?” Rose asked curiously, knowing exactly what buttons she was pushing. 

“Well see if you really want to get someone you make them fall in love with you and then break their heart,” Reggie explained casually.

“Oh that is cold Reggie,” Alex said with wide eyes. 

“But I wouldn’t do that to (N/N), I think she deserves a murder,” Reggie shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip from his cup.

“Put me out of my misery,” you nodded. “Alright, I’d go with Reggie,” 

Luke pouted, leaning his head on your shoulder. “But we’d have fun, Lady Bunny,” he whined. “Don’t you love me?” 

You scoffed, flicking his forehead. “Barely,” you joked. Luke just grabbed you by the arms and brought you up to him, pressing a smacking kiss to her cheek. 

“I’m your mom you have to love me,” he poked and you made a face, wiping your cheek after he had kissed you. “Hey! That was a sign of motherly love, how dare you!” You smirked, flipping him off before continuing the game. 

After what seemed like hours passed, you and your friends got bored of the game once you started to run out of ideas. 

Alex was nearly passed out on the floor, but Bobby nudged him awake. “Can we play a new game now?” Bobby sighed. “I know would you rather was my idea, but I’m kinda tired of it.” 

You nodded tiredly, before your mind clicked with an idea, 

“Wait how about MASH?” you asked curiously. “Reggie and I used to play it all the time,” 

Reggie’s lips quirked up to a smile. “Yeah!” he exclaimed. “I’m still hoping I get that mansion and forty horses.” 

“I don’t understand how you play rock music. Were you born in Montana or something?” Rose chuckled. 

“Pfft,” Reggie scoffed while you laughed. He sighed and finally conceded with a nod. “Yeah okay, I’m not from here,” 

“Wait you’re not!” Luke exclaimed and Reggie shook his head. 

“I’m from Wyoming,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I moved here when I was like...four.” 

Bobby’s face turned sour. “Wyoming doesn’t exist,” he said stubbornly. 

Alex coughed, “Wait you don’t actually think that do you?” 

“It’s a joke Alex, and you ruined it,” Bobby rolled his eyes. “But seriously Reg, Wyoming?” he frowned. “Like what do you even do there?” 

“Live on a ranch,” Reggie sighed longingly and you tried to stifle a laugh, prompting him to put you in a headlock and ruffle your hair. 

“You’re laughing right now, but no one knows where you’re from,” he smirked. 

“Oh Reggie, you’re a dick.” 

“Language!” Luke exclaimed, trying to cover your mouth while you protested and Reggie explained that you also were not a California native. 

“(N/N)’s not from California either, she moved here when she was five,” Reggie explained. 

“From where?!” Alex asked, completely invested. 

“I thought we were gonna play MASH?” you tried to interject, but no one was listening to you and Reggie still had you locked under his arm. “Flicka don’t do this!” 

“She’s from Canada!” he grinned and you groaned. “And the town she lived in is called Saint-Louis du Ha!-Ha!” 

“Reginald!” you protested, finally wrestling yourself out of his grip while he laughed uncontrollably. 

“The city has two exclamation marks in its name!” 

“Guys,” Luke started seriously and Reggie’s laughter faded to silence as you listened to the band leader. “I-I have a confession to make. I’m also not from here,” 

“You’re not?!” Bobby was coming close to losing it, having not known about his friends. 

“I’m also from the Great White North,” 

“Wait really?” you asked.

“Yeah, I’m from Fredrickton,” Luke grinned. 

“No way!” you exclaimed giddily. “So are you Acadian?” 

“Proudly so,” he nodded and you gave him a high five. 

“Canucks unite!” you laughed, not noticing the pointed glare Reggie was sending Luke. 

Bobby pulls his hair in frustration. “Okay, who else isn’t from California here?”

Rose sheepishly raised her hand, much to Bobby’s disbelief. “Puerto Rico?” she answered, more so like a question. 

“Dude,” Alex said, shaking his head. “She has a strong Puerto Rican accent.” 

Bobby stood up abruptly, storming off. “I’m out of here!”

You stifled back a giggle, calling out, “Bobby! Where are you going?” 

“TO THE FUCKING GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE,” he yelled back. “MAYBE I’LL FIND ACTUAL CALIFORNIANS THERE.” You rolled his eyes at his dramatics. You knew he would probably make it out the door before coming back in. The boy was far too lazy to make the drive, anyway. 

“I wonder if he realizes that I’m from California, too?” Alex pondered aloud. The entire group burst into laughter.

“Let’s just start the game without Bobby,” Rose suggested. “Who wants to go first?” 

“I can go,” Reggie nodded, grabbing a scrap of paper and writing down the things for each category.

“Okay hit me with some career options,” 

“Stripper,” you said, slapping his back and he rolled his eyes, but still followed the rules and wrote it down under occupations. “You’d be a terrible stripper though, you can’t dance and you have terrible balance,” 

“Okay I’d be an amazing stripper, but that’s besides the point,” Reggie countered and continued writing all the names and places his friends wanted thrown in his options. “Alright numbers now right?” You hummed in response. 

“Do five,” you said with a toothy grin. “That was how old we were when we met.” 

Reggie nodded, starting to go down each list and circling whatever he landed on. At one point as he counted, his face turned red as he hid the paper from you and everyone else’s view. Once he was done, you tugged on his arm. 

“Come on, Flicka,” you teased. “Show us what you got!” 

Reggie cleared his throat, “I mean is that really necessary?” he asked cautiously. 

“Come on it can’t be that bad,” Alex insisted. 

“Um, well it’s not bad perse,” 

“How do you know that word?” Luke teased and Reggie rolled his eyes. “Just tell us,” 

“Alright well I got a house, a music teacher, two kids, five horses and I’ll live here,” he nodded, trying to avoid a certain topic. 

“Who do you marry?” Rose asked curiously. 

“No one?” he answered unsurely.

Rose rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t an option,” she reminded him. “Come on, it’s just a game, Reg. Just show it.” When Reggie refused to move, Rose resorted to snatching the paper from his hands. 

“Rose!” he cried out, reaching for the paper. 

The girl only held the paper far away, squinting her eyes to read the circled mark. “It’s (N/N)!” she squealed. Rose and Alex high fived each other while you dug your into Reggie’s chest, completely flustered. As a response, Reggie wrapped his arm around your waist and rested his head against yours. 

“It’s okay (N/N),” he said loud enough for the rest to hear. “We can just murder them,” he smirked and they all burst into a fit of outrage, during which Reggie leaned in closer to you, his lips coming close to your ear while he whispered, 

“It’s nice to take a break every once in a while, right?” 

You nodded with a smile. 

“Yeah, Cookie can let loose,” you joked.

“Of course she can,” he smiled, lifting his head and pressing a kiss to your temple before resting his chin on the top of your head. 

“Oh my God did you see that!” Rose pointed to you and Reggie and he stuck his tongue out at her. 

“What can’t a guy hug a gal?” he countered and you just placed your hand on Reggie’s mouth before he made it first, prompting him to teasingly bite your finger. 

“Flicka!” you complained while Luke immediately came to your rescue. 

“Guys! You gotta leave at least a foot for Jesus, come on this is beginner stuff,” he poked. Luke swatted Reggie’s hand away. “Get your hand off my daughter. I’m not ready to be a grandmother just yet, Peters.” 

“Luke,” you whined at his extra comment. 

“If they think this is bad they should’ve seen the dance Mrs. Leona made us do,” Reggie nudged you and you agreed with a chuckle. 

“Since when are you guys in the dance class?” Bobby asked, coming back into the studio with more snacks. 

“We’re not, Mrs. Hillside assigned under Mrs. Leona’s care for a day and we helped choreograph a dance for the sophomores next semester,” you explained, totally not realizing the implications of what you had said. 

“You know they’re gonna make us dance now right?” Reggie sighed. 

“Shit, they are, aren’t they,” 

With a loud groan you both stood up and Reggie took your hand. 

“From the top Cookie?” 

“From the top,” you sighed with a roll of your eyes. 

Rose reached for the speakers, connecting her MP3 to them and playing the song. 

“Swing those hips, Reginald!” Luke whooped, reaching for the bowl of popcorn in the middle of the coffee table. Reggie mouthed a swear to his friend as his hands found his place on your hips. 

“Watch where you’re putting those hands!” Rose warned. Rolling his eyes, Reggie teasing dropped his hands lower, only for you to swat them away. 

“I’ll still bite you,” you hissed playfully. 

“Promise?” he shot back. 

Once the music started to play, you felt Reggie’s hand trail down your arm. Every move was burned to your memory as you danced along with Reggie. The comments of your friends -either cheering or teasing- escaped your mind. 

And all that you wanted was for the night to never end. 

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[danger-xylophones]

Family Reunion (Darth Maul x Reader) Pt. 1: Wild and a Quest

I had this idea and I thought it was fucking interesting and I wanted to write it

This will be in multiple parts as I made this first installment hecka long. Maul will soon be more heavily featured but for now, I just had to establish some stuff. 

Story summary: Reader reunites with Maul for the first time in twelve years and...the ex-sith lord gets a strange surprise.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, slow start

Notes: Female pronouns, an OC child

Current read, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

.............................................................

The roar of the ship as it took off was deafening despite you being housed in the cockpit. Instinctively, you reached up to cover your ears and closed your eyes as gravity shifted. You couldn’t wait to be in the vacuum of space; at least then gravity wouldn’t even exist. A gentle pat on your forearm was enough to make you open your eyes and look to the side. To your right was Wild, an eleven-year-old zabrak-human hybrid, the last piece of evidence you had of your life before all this. He was the symbol of your union with him. Wild was your son. 

The carmine-colored, half-dathomirian, barely-tattooed boy was looking up at you with sympathetic saffron eyes, he knew of your deep-rooted hatred for liftoff. Gently, you smiled at the boy to ease his worry and offered a soft pat on his head, careful to avoid the tiny horns protruding from his skull. Wild didn’t return it and instead opted to grab your hand off of his head to hold it in his own before focusing on the viewport. You deflated at that as your heart suddenly ached. 

Wild was so much like his father that it hurt you sometimes, not only in looks though (although he was practically his carbon copy) but in personality; proud, serious, and protective with a cunning unrivaled by anyone else on the outside but a soft-spoken, gentle, curious and sometimes anxious boy inside. It was hard to remember that he was eleven sometimes-not the adult he pretended to be and not your little baby boy that used to cling to your leg all day. You just wanted him to be a little boy who was free to dream, explore, and play as he pleased but it seemed the force would not grant you your one wish. Instead, it took his father away from you before he had even got the chance to know of the remarkable gift he’d given you. You did suppose that Wild’s predisposed traits that bound him so tightly to the father he’d never known were a blessing in disguise. It had always served as reassurance that if anything ever happened to take you away from Wild, he’d be fine on his own.

...His own. It was a thought you never liked to dwell on. Wild was born at a delicate time in your life. You were 21 when you learned you were pregnant with the baby of a sith-lord and the news had been...startling to say the least. It had occurred to you one day while you were preparing to face the Trials that your cycle had been off. Deeming it odd enough to warrant a visit to the medbay, you sought out one of the healers. You’d instantly wished that you had chosen a droid instead as it was soon revealed that you were two months pregnant. You had to feign ignorance about knowing of a father at all. It had worked for a time as the issue was immediately brought before the council who were all in various states of shock. The worst reaction, you remembered, was that of your master. But, the council did not kick you out like you were certain they would have had they known of the baby’s heritage. Instead, the council believed your lie-that there was no father. Of course, they believed it. You were Ki-Adi-Mundi’s apprentice, chosen specifically by him due to your, as he phrased it, “natural and strong alignment with the light side”. You were a model padawan who would never even think of breaking the code, let alone to this extent. Your training was put on hold for the time being as the council awaited the birth of your baby, some Jedi even began to wonder if the child would be the prophesied ‘chosen one’ (though Qui-Gon, most notably, believed otherwise). It was then that you knew that your time with the Jedi was up. You formulated a plan. Qui-Gon Jinn and his apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, were being sent on a mission to Naboo to protect the queen. 

You begged your master to let you go with them as you had been cooped up in the temple for a whole month after the pregnancy announcement. Your master obliged, certain that no harm would come to you on the mission, and you were swift to join the grey Jedi and his stuck-up padawan. Your plan from there was to land on Naboo’s surface and disappear for a bit to get the Jedi off your back and to get in contact with him again. But, of course, that all went downhill and...you had seen your love be cut down by your fellow padawan. He wasn’t supposed to be there to your knowledge and now he was dead and you were still carrying his baby. Obi-Wan was swift to pick up on your anguish and even swifter to alert the council of your lies and treachery against the Order. You were ejected from the order and locked away in the temple prison to await the birth of your baby whereupon the Jedi would tear him away from you indefinitely. It would have been a fate worse than death for you. That is, had you not escaped and faked your death to get the Jedi off your back. 

Wild came soon after, being borne to a disgraced and presumed dead mother and a most definitely dead sith-lord father. Yet, you had done your very best to love him in every possible way as he had no other family besides you. 

It seemed that this was something your son was acutely aware of too as the young boy was fiercely protective of you just as you were protective of him. Case in point: the only other person in the room that could pose a threat-Wild’s own uncle, Saváge Opress. 

The seven-foot walking mountain of a zabrak had found you and your son on Tatooine whilst during one of your rare visits to the desert world. Your first meeting wasn’t pleasant. 

“You, woman, what is your name?” The low bass voice sounding from behind you would have been enough to make you run if not for the fact that your son was still in the store you had just left. Slowly, you moved your hand to one of your sabers concealed within the confines of your cloak before turning around. 

“Give me your name, dathomirian,” You spat at the goldenrod zabrak despite the fact he towered over you and could probably crush your skull with one hand, “and maybe I will give you mine.” 

He snarled, clearly displeased with the response but relented. “My name is Savage Opress.” 

You analyzed him for a moment, eyes raking up and down his form. He was big and strong and going by the saber hilt hooked on his belt, trained in the force. Was he a Jedi? Was he a sith? Had he been sent here to kill you? He was in for a surprise if he had. “Why are you speaking to me, Opress?” 

“You told me you would give me your name.” Savage growled, large hand landing on his saber. 

“No, I said that maybe I would.” You removed your lightsaber from your belt but ensured you kept it hidden from view. 

“I don’t have time for your games, woman.” 

“That makes two of us, good day, sir.” You hissed and turned to walk away, intent on looping around and meeting up with Wild to get off this miserable planet. However, that wouldn’t happen right now as your ears soon met with the distinctive sound of a lightsaber igniting. With an agitated sigh, you whipped out your own weapon and spun around just in time to meet your attacker; green blade clashing with red. Sith. Most likely his master’s new apprentice.

Savage was strong, physically, but you could feel that he was weaker in the force than you. That would be your only hope; let the force guide you while he relies on his own physical prowess. You met the male zabrak strike for strike, each one threatening to knock you off your feet with the force Savage fought with. The fight was grueling and you could feel the rustiness in each spin and block-you only ever used your lightsaber when training your son-and as it went on, one thought became abundantly clear; you weren’t going to win like this. You had to figure out a way to make the mountain stand still. Thinking on your feet, you fell back before taking a running start at Savage. You feinted to the right and used the wall to boost yourself over the behemoth of a man, twirling as you went until you landed behind him and shot a well-aimed kick to the back of one of his knees. The move was meant to bring Savage down to your level so you could cut his head off but when the blow landed, nothing happened. Startled, you froze which would prove fatal. 

Savage spun around and grabbed your ankle in one hand before roughly swinging you into the wall. The air was driven from your lungs as you felt your back connect with the sandstone of the building behind you. Savage released you, allowing you to crumple to the ground as you fought to breathe. You were granted little reprieve though as soon Savage was stooping down and roughly lifting you by your neck in one fist. Your feet kicked lamely at your attacker in your struggle for survival as your nails clawed at the back of Savage’s hand. 

“I’ll ask one more time, what is your name?” Savage growled low in his throat and tightened his grip. 

“Will you let me live?” You coughed out, looking Savage dead in the eyes which briefly reminded you of your son’s. Your son. You had to stay alive for him. 

“Maybe, if you are who I am looking for.” 

It seemed that that was as good a chance as any.

“Y/n, my name’s Y/n.” Savage’s necklace suddenly glowed an eerie blue and you were prompted to ask your next question. “Wha-What do you want with me?” 

“I’m looking for someone-my brother. I was told that you knew him, jedi.” 

Electing to ignore the incorrect title, you continued to talk. Maybe, if you lowered his guard, you could still make it out of this alive. “I know a lot of people but not a lot of them are zabraks.” Savage’s eye ridge quirked up in questioning. “But...if it’s who I think you’re looking for-he’s dead. Killed by Obi-Wan on Naboo twelve years ago.” 

“That’s what I was told too-but I have cause to believe he is still alive and I was told that you would be the one to help me find him.” 

No...impossible. “You’re....you’re a liar!” You screamed at the zabrak. “I watched him die! He’s dead-he won’t come back-he can’t come back no matter how much I-” 

“Mom?!”  A familiar pre-pubescent yet soft voice cut you off. Immediately your attention, as well as Savage’s, were on Wild who stood at the mouth of the alley with saffron eyes that blazed like molten lava. He had never looked more like his father than in that moment.

Savage looked at you, confusion and something else (regret maybe?) all over his goldenrod face. “Mo-?”

“Wild, run!” You cut Savage off and gathered enough strength to curl in on yourself and strike Savage in the face with both feet. The zabrak released you at once and you fell to the ground unceremoniously before summoning your lightsaber to you. Not wasting time, you ignited it and dove at Savage, ready to make him pay for his filthy lies. Savage was quick, though, and managed to block your blow with his own sword. However, what neither of you expected was for a second contender to join the match in the form of Savage’s nephew and your son wielding your old blue lightsaber. “Wild, I told you to run!”

“You also told me to never run from a fight!” The little boy shot back, pressing down with all the strength he had. Stubbornness. That was another trait inherited from his father and enhanced by your own strong will. With a roar, Savage launched both of you back, sending you to the ground and your son flying. You watched as his little body collided with the same wall you had been smacked against minutes ago and nearly lost it. Channeling all your anger, you reared on Savage and pushed him back with the strongest force push you could muster before immediately running over to your son. He had sat up and was clutching at the back of his head where you noticed a small cut. You were going to kill Savage; brother-in-law or not. 

“Wild, when I tell you to ‘run’, think of it as a tactical retreat. And for the record, I told you to know when to run from a fight.” You reprimanded quickly as you picked your son up and ushered him behind you. The two of you began to back away as Savage struggled to his feet. The two of you were almost to the entrance of the alley when the zabrak got a hold of his senses. 

“Y/n, wait, please.” Savage began, sheathing his lightsaber and holding out a hand to you in surrender. His yellow eyes flickered between your son and yourself, guilt prominent in his features. You found yourself pausing. “I know you do not believe me-”

“No, I don’t and frankly, you have given me no reason to. If...if Maul was alive, I would have found him.” You spat in anger at the arrogance of this zabrak. Did he think that you hadn’t searched? Did he think that you hadn’t cared for him? Did he not see the disproof standing behind you? 

“But you did not have the magicks of Mother Talzin.” Savage’s voice was soft now as he tapped the talisman around his neck. 

You were struck silent at that. He was of course correct-you hadn’t had the aid of his people. With a heavy sigh, you rose out of your defensive position and sheathed your lightsaber, much to the surprise of the two males. “Wild.” Your voice was soft, caring, and you could feel your progeny’s confusion as if it was your own. “Take everything to the ship. I’ll be there in a minute.” Wild hesitated for a moment and you expected to get some attitude later but for now, he just softly handed your second lightsaber to you and stalked off after sending a final glare at Savage. 

“Alright, you have my attention, Savage. What do you need?” You asked in a steely voice. 

“Everything you knew about my brother.” 

From there, the three of you had begun your search. Savage had explained his story and you had explained yours (he was almost overjoyed to know that he had a nephew). However, you both agreed that, for now, you wouldn’t tell Wild who Maul actually was in relation to him. This meant that Wild didn’t know that Savage was his uncle which led to the current distrust you were witnessing now. You hated not telling Wild but you didn’t want to give him hope that his father was alive to then rip it away from him when Savage’s wild goose chase proved to be just that. Now, you were riding in a cargo ship on your way to the trash planet, Lotho Minor.

You had landed a few minutes ago after Savage took control of the ship and were now faced with a dilemma. Did you go with Savage or stay in the ship with your son?

“Wild,” Savage’s booming voice called the young boy’s attention to him, however resentfully, “Stay with the ship. Your mother and I will explore.” 

“No.” Wild snapped immediately with a glare as his hand tightened around your own till his sharp nails started to dig into your skin. You sighed softly and turned to your son. 

“Wild, I’ll be fine. Savage won’t hurt me. Protect the ship, sweetheart, we’ll be right back.” You placed a soothing hand on the side of his face. His little red face grew more grave. He didn’t trust Savage, plain and simple. You wrinkled your nose at him before placing a peck on his forehead and pulling him into a smothering hug. “You worry too much, little man.” The boy protested at the display and loosely pushed you away but you had done your job as Wild seemed much more on board with the idea. “We’ll be right back. Don’t let anyone else on board, got it?” 

Wild sighed with an eye roll. “Yes, mother.” His tone was annoyed but, having raised the boy, you knew he was only exaggerating his feelings. You placed yet another peck on your son’s forehead and gently pinched his carmine cheek before striding over to Savage who had watched the whole interaction. Neither of you spoke until you were outside. 

“You’re good with him.” Savage piped up suddenly, his low bass a welcomed contrast to the wind whipping through the heaps of garbage. 

You were taken aback. For all the times Wild had been brought up in conversation with the older zabrak, your skill in parenting was never mentioned let alone complimented. “I should hope that I would be,” you began, uncertain where you were going with this, “I am his mother.” 

Savage made a funny noise in the back of his throat that prompted you to look up at him. “I-I just meant that…you’re...different than the nightsisters. They...they didn’t care if they had a boy.” Ah, the nightsisters. The infamous clan of witches that had bought and traded your unofficial husband long ago and continued to do with Savage. You prompted Savage to elaborate as you two began to walk. “They cared if they had a girl as she would stay with their clan but...if it was a boy, he was sent to us to be subjected to the same fate as so many men before us.” Savage’s eyes were clouded in thought as he relieved what was probably some awful memory. “It’s strange to see a boy be cared for is all.” 

“Dathomir sounds...awful. I can’t imagine what you went through, Savage.” You dared to lay a hand on his forearm, making the zabrak halt in his tracks. “But...but if Maul isn’t...but if Maul isn’t here to be found, you could have a place with us.” You smiled gently. “You are family, Savage. I see it and I’m sure Wild will see it as well.” 

Savage’s other hand came up to rest on the hand on his arm. There was a genuine smile on his face, for once. “Thank you, Y/n.” With a dip of your head, you resumed your walk. “Y/n?” Only to be stopped by the questioning lilt in Savage’s voice. “I never asked, how did you and Maul ever meet?” 

A wistful smile dared to dash across your face as your mind’s eye immediately conjured up the image of the stunning ruby red zabrak you’d come to love so dearly. “That, my dear brother, is quite the story...”

....………………………………

Next ->

[sometimes-i-write-4-you]

hi! :) could it get a stanley barber x reader with prompt 23 of the romantic prompts?

Hate (how) you (make me feel) - Stanley Barber x reader

a\n - this took so long lol, hope you like it. i feel like there were’nt that many scenes with him but that’s just how the idea rolled so i promise to post a second Stanley fic featuring more of him.

trigge warnings: angst, cursing

word count: 3243

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stanley Barber was my best friend, and I'm saying “was” because he’s been ignoring me for about a week now. I don’t know what happened, but I guess he just got tired of me, which was not very typical for him - he’s the type of guy to stick with you through thick and thin, he’d walk through fire with you even if you started it. However, it was typical for people to get tired of me. It’s not the first time my friends walk away from me, and if I survived losing them, i’ll survive losing Stanley, but this is different. The thing is, he wasn’t just my best friend. I truly liked him. I mean, liked-liked, like, I love him. He doesn't know, obviously, I'd never risk our friendship. The last time we hung out i almost did it, kind of confessed. Maybe this is what scared him off?

I open my computer and search up “how to get over losing a friend?”

1.  Don't try to force closure.

A week ago, Stanley and I were still okay. I was planning to ask him to go to homecoming with me. As friends, of course, but i guess that’s out of the question now. My mind travels to the last time we hung out.

“(y\n)!” Stanley smiled at me from the porch. He ran toward me, even though he wasn't wearing shoes. He almost slipped over a random rock in the driveway, but it didn’t stop him from reaching out and pull me into a hug. His hugs were the best hugs ever, and nothing can convince me otherwise. “Hey stan '' I replied into his chest, since I didn't get the chance to stand on my toes and minimize the height difference, which kind of made the hug even better.  “Yo, i have to show you what i got! I searched for it for so long, and I finally got it!” he said, grabbing my hand and running into his house. “My dad is, uh, he’s away, which means that, uh, we can watch it right now!” he kept going as he dragged me to his room. His hand still held mine when we arrived, and I hoped he’d blame how red my cheeks got on the running. His other hand grabbed a VHS from his desk, “look!” he smiled, leaving my hand to hold the VHS right in my face. I took it from his hands. “It’s (your favorite 80’s movie)!” I smiled, looking down at the VHS. he took it back and ran upstairs, “come on!”. I followed him upstairs, and arrived just in time to catch him sliding on the floor rock-star style toward the VHS player. “There’s- uh, there’s popcorn bags in the cabinet next to the fridge” he called, and I walked past him toward the kitchen, ruffling his hair on my way to get the popcorn. He claimed to hate it, but it was funny how he’d get mad. “(y\n)! It took forever to- ``''get my hair to look this good, don’t ever touch it again because i know where you live!” I mimicked him. He always said this exact sentence, which followed a “and what would you do?” from me, and to that he had a different answer every time. “I’ll take away your popcorn privileges!” he threatened this time. “Whatever” I laugh.

By the end of the movie we were cuddled up, his hand on my shoulder and my legs over his lap. I leaned on him while trying to dig up some popcorn crumbs from the bag. He took the bag and poured the crumbs in his mouth. “Stan!” i said, punching his chest. He moved the bag and I suddenly noticed how close our faces were. His eyes looked right at me, and I felt my heart skip a beat. He stuck his tongue at me breaking the awkward stare.”i love you” i thought to myself. I didn’t even realise I said that out loud until Stan got up. “What? Wait? Are you serious?” he asked, and i was quick to deny the meaning behind it, thought it was not smooth. “Of course buddy, you’re my best friend, '' I said, getting up to pinch his shoulder. “Oh! oh, right, yeah, love you too, buddy” he smiled at me. “Well, i gotta go to.. Work” i made up, desperate to escape the scene. “Really? I didn’t see your name on the shift list-” Stan said, confused. I forgot we work at the same place. “Uh, yeah, Jason wanted me to replace him, he has a.. Huge test and he didn’t have the time to study” i lied. “O-” stan started, “kay”. I was already on the other side of the door though. 

I later on looked at the shift list, it was Jenna and Carla’s, so Stanly probably knows I lied. Maybe that’s that, so no need to talk to him about his sudden distance. 

2. Give yourself a lot to look forward to

What can I do to keep myself busy? Maybe I can take up a new hobby - guitar, painting, writing. I can talk to mrs. Miller to get more shifts a week? I’ll talk to her today. Wait, shit, today. I have a shift with Stanley. We rarely get to work together, since Mrs. Miller knows we tend to talk instead of working, it was like that ever since we met at my first shift.

“Stanley, I'd like you to meet (y\n), she’s going to replace me since I'm leaving for college tomorrow. I was supposed to teach her the job, but my mom stalled with choosing a replacement. I think she tried to get me to stay. You think you can show her around?” Frank said. Frank Miller. He’s dating my brother, so he hooked me up with this job since his mom is the owner. “Sure thing, Frankey” the curly-haired boy said, and Frank left us to be. On our way here he promised i would like the company, “you’d get along just fine, (nickname), Stanley, for example, is just as weird as you, if not more. He’s the only person to call me “frankey” other than my mom” were his exact words, and when Stanley noticed your bloodwitch shirt, it turned out that he was right. 

“First thing first, you gotta change, unfortunately we can’t wear awesome band shirts to work. I know. It’s stupid” he said, and took a pink polo shirt identical to his from under the table. “And what’s your favorite bloodwitch song?” he asked me, tossing the shirt at me. “Hard question” I replied, putting on the pink shirt and adjusting the tuck. “A gun to your head, what’s your answer?” he says. “Well, a gun to my head… (your fav)``I say, and he smiles. His smile is so pretty, and even though i barely know the guy, i know that i’d love to make him smile again.

I arrive at the bowling alley, step 3 repeating in my head.

3. Meet new people – but don't pressure yourself to find a new BFF ASAP.

“Hey” i smile at Mrs. Miller. Sure, she’s old, but i can befriend her, right? It counts. “Hey” She smiles back. “How’s Frank?” I ask her, and she asks about my brother after saying her son is doing great in college. “Well, he’s just fine” i reply, and with that Mrs. Miller is off to do whatever she needs to do to keep the place running. So maybe making her my friend is not a good idea. 

Stanly is already there, since his shift started earlier, and he was shining the shoes behind that same counter where we first met. The hours pass by, but no one my age is arriving, it’s either 12 year olds or 30 years old, and my hope to find a new friend is slowly fading. Maybe i should just work on my existing connections.

A short haired girl I recognised from school rushed in, and walked directly to Stanley, who went back to the shoes. As they talked, he glanced at me. I hurried and moved my eyes toward the couple who was about to ask me to get them fries. I never knew i needed to be a waiter if i work at a bowling alley, they don’t even tip me here. Maybe i should quit and get a different job where there is no Stanley Barber and his beautiful smile and stupid curls and charming personality. Somewhere where someone else is choosing the playlist and I'm forced to listen to Justin Biber. Maybe i’ll even start liking his music. Stanley and the girl leave.

An hour passed, and I understand he may never come back here to close, meaning I had to do it by myself for the first time. A couple walks in, and i recognise them from school, in fact, i even manage to remember their names. “Dina, Bradley, hey” I smile at them. The making-new -friends plan is back on track.

 4. Tailor your social media if needed.

I took a picture of the burger I ordered, posting it on my story. I tagged Dinna. My plan succeeded, as you see. Dinna is likeable, however Brad pissed me off. He was being a bit possessive and controlling, but Dinna was blind to it. “Oh, my friend Sydney would be joining us, I hope that’s okay, I just rarely get to hang out with her now that I have a boyfriend. She doesn't really like him, so having the both of ‘em around at the same time is not an option” Dinna says, and the bell rang, meaning someone walked in. The girl that Stanley took off with yesterday sat down across from her. “Sydney! Meet (y\n), i met her at the bowling alley yesterday” Dinna says. “Oh, hi” Sydney smiles, but her voice is a bit disappointed. “Well, i’ll be off soon, i’ll just finish my food” i said. “Oh, okay” Sydney starts, but Dinna’s “oh, no, why?” is clashing. I choose to answer Dinna. “Homework. I had to close the Bowling alley alone since Stan..ley ditched me” i said, deciding to use his name instead of the nickname i got used to. “I wonder why’s that” Dinna said, looking at Sydney. “I- i don’t know if i can share the news with her, no offence, but i don’t know you” Sydney said. “Oh, none taken” I say, But Dinna insists. “Come on, you can’t leave me hanging. You said you hung out with him on the phone, and that you’ll give me the details face to face! Come on, you can trust (y\n), she’s alright” Dinna said, and now I know for sure I don't want to hear Sydney’s news. “Well, we got high,” Sydney gave in. Stanley and I used to get high together. “And then we, uh, slept together,” Sydney says. “You know I'm actually gonna take that to go and leave now, lots of homework” I say, getting up. I paid on my way out, and started to walk home as tears formed in my eyes. I refuse to blink and let the warm, salty liquid run down my cheeks, but when I arrive home, my mascara is all smudged and  I'm shaking. I hurry into my room before my mom notices.

5. Have a game plan when dealing with mutual friends.

Step 5 made me laugh when I first saw it, but now that Dinna invited me to come along with her and Sydney to Ricky’s birthday party, I had to figure it out. I haven’t told Dinna the real reason i left, and when she called to ask about my homework progress my voice was still shaky from crying, and i was confused as to what homework is she talking about, cause i always finish these during school breaks, especially now that i don’t spend them with Stanley. We used to finish as much as we could together, but we’d lose focus and I ended up sitting at the park after school to finish what I had left.

I agreed, thinking it will take my mind off of Stanley, but I later found out he’s planning to be there. All I need to do is just.. Avoid him. I bet he’s gonna be late. He was always late to work, and to our hang outs over at my house or anywhere other than his house. He used to be late at school, but then he started picking me up and I told him to be there half an hour before the time I wanted him there, and he arrived right when I needed him. When he found out, he was so offended, so I reminded him of the first time he picked me up at school. The both of us had to write a two page long essay about arriving on time and the importance of being present at school, since we missed the entirety of the first period. Ever since then, he got to my house 15 minutes earlier than he used to, just to be safe. 

6. Try to learn something from it (if you can).

My friendship with Stanley was good to the both of us. We matured together, we learned new things together. We made each other better, and encouraged each other to be ourselves. Not that Stanley was shy, but he wasn't as shouty as he is nowdays. He wouldn't ask someone to homecoming, for example, but he did that at Rick’s party. Homecoming is tomorrow, and i’m going alone, which is kind of sad. I put on a nice enough dress (or jumpsuit, or suit, whatever floats your boat. I wore a jumpsuit to prom at my senior year). I did my makeup a bit more dramatic than usual. Dinna and Sydney promised me a dance from each. After hanging out with her a bit, I liked Syd. i couldn’t holf the fact she had sex with the guy i love against her, it’s not like she did it on purpose, she was high and as i learned when she confessed to me she has feelings for Donna, not interasted in ever doing that again. I was surprised she made me her secret buddy, but I guess it made sense - she couldn’t tell Dinna without risking their friendship, and the same goes for Stanley, who partially believed he had a chance with Syd.

“You look gorgeous!” Dinna smiled at me as she made her way toward me, hugging me. “You look.. Like a christmas tree, in the best way possible”  i compliment her. She laughs, “thanks”. She offers to go place our votes for prom king and queen, and just when we’re done, Sydis approaches us, dragging Stanley along with her. 

 “Stan” Dinna smiles at him. He was wearing his sky blue suit. When he got it i said it’s stupid, but now that i see him wearing it, it suited him. His fashion sense was kind of weird, but I liked it, it was very much… him. “Dina! You look like a Christmas tree” Stan said. “Thanks, man” Dinna said, “actually (y\n) said the same thing. You two work together, right?”. “Yeah, but we barely get any shifts together” I said. It wasn’t a lie. “Yeah” Stan agreed, looking anywhere but at me. “I’m gonna go get some punch” I said, and left.

7. Accept that you may never reconnect.

They kept talking for a bit, and I took a seat on the benches with my punch. It wasn’t that good, but i said i’m off to get one so i had to stick to the story. “Hey (y\n)” a familiar voice said as the sky-blue wearing guy sat down next to me. He didn’t sit too close, but I could still feel the warmth his body was radieting and smell all 3 colons he had on. “Hey, Stanley” I replied, keeping my eyes on the dance floor. “So you wanna dance?” he asked.  “No, not really” I said. It wasn’t exactly the truth. I wanted too, but i just felt like he’s asking out of pity, or cause Dinna and Syd forced him. You really expect me to believe he wanted anything to do with me after the way he’s been ignoring me for two whole weeks? “Yeah, I guess i get that. Look, I'm really sorry for ignoring you, i just-” Step 1 - don’t look for clouser my mind screamed at me. “You just hate me?” I ask, finally looking at him. “Not you, no, never” he says, turning his eyes to me. They looked just as sad as mine, he was… offended. “I don’t- how can you ever think that?” he said. “Are you really asking that?” I say, a sad laugh accompanies my words. “No, (y\n), i could never hate you, I just hate how you make me feel-” he says, and I look at him confused. “How’s that better?” I say, but he ignores me and continues to talk. “i hate how you make me feel so… not in control. When i’m around you, i get all stuttery, and i have this annoying feeling like- like there are butterflies in my stomach. Have you ever felt that? It’s terrible” he says, and then cuts eye contact. The dance floor seems very interesting to me now, too. “Look, two weeks ago, when you said you love me, I really wanted it to be true. I stayed away because I realized that you don’t feel the same and I have to accept that. But, (y\n), not having you in my life sucked, so I don't care if it’s just as friends, I want you to be a part of my life” he said, fidgeting with his fingers. “Stan..” I started, but I had no clue how to word what I wanted to say. I rested my hand on his shoulder. “Look, it’s cool if you don’t feel the same, but just, be my friend again, please?” he said, and as he finished the sentence he finally looked at me. I took the chance. Now or never. My lips met his. He was surprised for a second, but once he realized what was happening, his hands found my waist and he turned his body to me as we looked for a comfortable enough position. We finally break the kiss to breath, but none of us dares to open our eyes, just in case this is a dream and we’ll wake up if we open our eyes. I can feel his breath on my lips, and I want to pull him into another kiss, but first i have to say something.

“Stan, I won't be your friend,” I say, opening my eyes to look at him. He opened his eyes. “What?”. “However, i will be your girlfriend” the words slip out of my mouth, and the look in his eyes was so worth it. “(y\n), don’t ever scare me like that again” he says, and offers me his hand right as the music gets slower. “Now, may i have this dance, babe?” he asks. “Only if you never call me babe again” I say and take his hand. “That’s fair, yeah, it felt wrong” He Said as he spun me around on our way to the dance floor. Looks like i don’t need to worry about step 7 after all.

[kidneys4karev]

max n mike, prompt 3 in list 2 :giggle:

Stranger Things - Mike & Max

Okay, but first, kiss me.

TW - underaged drinking, alcohol

Claire Laurence's parties were notorious amongst the residences of Hawkins High, and that wasn't for no good reason. Her parents were almost always out of town, though that hardly seemed to matter. They were the main alcohol suppliers, which Claire's house had plenty of, and never tried to stop her if they came home early. Of course, the events weren't as legendary as Steve's- despite the town's brief fascination with Billy Hargrove, Steve was still something of myths. 

So, second only to Steve Harrington, Claire's parties were something many students wished to obtain invites to, whether by status, by way of a friend, or from Claire herself. It was uncommon for anyone deemed too far below her in the Hawkins hierarchy to attend, or even people in the grade below.

Yet it was no surprise that Max Mayfield found herself in the middle of one that Saturday night.

From the very first day of her freshman year, the seniors had always liked her. At fourteen, she remained one of the few in her grade to attend a senior party, and that stuck until her junior year. Back then, he hadn't been so healthy, using alcohol and parties as a way to forget what was going on at home, or the traumatic events she'd witnessed in the mere year she'd been there. That, well, still stood to date- Max had never been one to develop many healthy coping mechanisms.

The only one who ever followed her was Mike Wheeler, something of a surprise to most people. The two had got off to a rocky start, fighting for the sake of fighting, loyal, yet extremely stubborn personalities clashing catastrophically. Now, they weren't so bad. Sure, they fought every other hour, had petty arguments over things as trivial as the last cookie or what to do after school, but they had each other's backs. Max hated his guts, and vice versa, but they'd go down swinging for each other if need be.

For a few months, Dustin and Lucas had tagged along to the parties too, but they never quite enjoyed the experience like Max did. Dustin was too nervous to drink, and Lucas had designated himself group mother by default, far too concerned about making sure Mike didn't pass out by the side of the road to occupy himself with alcohol. So, eventually, their group of four dwindled down to two.

Max didn't care, anyway. She didn't need a babysitter.

That was where they found themselves today, Claire's house, music blaring, no doubt echoing all the way down the street to tired, yet familiar neighbours. Mike leant against the wall, watching from the sidelines. Max had disappeared to God knows where, likely to dance or find some alcohol, though he really had no idea. He could barely ever keep up with the girl.

Speaking of keeping up, he sipped his drink gingerly, grimacing as he did so. After years of practise, he still wasn't used to the taste, the burning sensation down his throat, no matter how much cola he mixed into it. Really, he was mostly drinking it so that Max didn't win. They always had this unspoken bet since the very first time they'd done this, Max calling him a pussy for being behind, Mike taking shots until he no longer pulled a face. He was too stubborn to lose.

They both were.

Tonight, however, they were taking it slow. They'd only just got there, Max wasn't even tipsy yet, and this was Mike's first drink. Hell, he could still drive at this point- they both could.

Which was why he was a little surprised to see her walking over to him already, no cup in hand.

"Have you had anything to drink yet?" He yelled over the music, straightening up. He towered over her, always had, but now stood around 5'11, compared to her measly 5'3. She hadn't grown since they first met.

Max shook her head. "No, but-"

He cut her off almost immediately, naturally interruptive. Pulling a face, he pushed the drink towards her. "Good. This is disgusting, please take it from me."

"Okay, but first, kiss me." 

There was a sense of certainty and urgency in her voice that threw Mike completely off guard. Up until that point, he had been certain that Max liked girls- come on, the Wonder Woman obsession? The way she looked at El, and her on and off nature with Lucas that ended shortly before high school? To Mike, it had been very obvious.

"Woah, wh- what?" He spluttered, still not recovered from the initial shock. "Are you sure you've not had anything to drink? Because-"

"No!" She cut him off this time, sounding far more frustrated, annoyed at something he just wasn't getting. She lowered her voice, hissing the next part so quietly that Mike had to strain to hear. "You know Ben? From English? He keeps flirting with me and I don't want to- mmhf!"

Mike didn't hesitate beyond that explanation, leaning down to press his lips to hers. They'd been friends long enough that it wasn't really awkward, despite the small crush he may or may not have had on her a couple years prior. It wasn't something he'd ever admit, but he couldn't deny that she was pretty either.

She pulled away, turning around so quickly that her hair whipped Mike in the face. Sure enough, there was Ben, slinking back into the rest of the very drunk crowd. She nodded slowly, waiting to make sure that he was gone, before turning back to Mike.

This time, she fixed him with a glare that would turn most people to stone, were it not for the fact that he was very used to it. Being on the end of such hatred and threat from the smaller redhead was a daily, if not hourly, occurrence.

"We never speak of this again, okay?" 

Despite growing accustomed to said glare, Mike readily agreed. 

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Guilty As Charged

One Shot for @thatfanficstuff​ ‘s Band New U challenge.

My Prompt was “Lawyer AU”

Pairing- Bucky Barnes X (sort of…) Reader Insert. This is my first Reader Insert so hopefully it works out as well as my OFC seems to have done.

Warnings- Bad language words. **my knowledge on US law is limited so humour me**

“We find the defendant not guilty”

You let out a sigh and rub at your temple. Looking over at your colleague, Sam, you shake your head in utter disbelief.

“Y/N this wasn’t your fault…” he begins in a low voice but you simply sigh again and shrug.

“I was sure they’d see through his lies” you glance over to your right where the defence team, headed up by James Buchanan Barnes of Barnes & Rogers Law are shaking hands. Barnes’ face is arranged in the usual smug look that you want to slap right off it. His partner, Steve glances over at you and gives you a genuine, sympathetic smile. He is always the most courteous out of the two.

“He fucking did it Y/N” Sam’s voice is almost a growl “I know he did.”

“Well in the eyes of the law he didn’t…” you state, standing up “Come on, let’s get out of here before he starts…”

You hastily shuffle your papers back into their respective files and pack your briefcase up. Picking up your jacket, you shrug it on, smooth down your pencil skirt and make to leave the courtroom before Barnes can pipe up with his usual smart ass quips. But you’re not quite fast enough. “Commiserations Miss Y/LN, can’t win ‘em all…” the familiar Brooklyn drawl hits your ears “mind you, winning some would be a start.” “Buck…” Steve sighs “c'mon pal…”

You grit your teeth. You know you shouldn’t rise to it, but you just can’t help it. The man is an utter jack ass. Spinning to face him you shoot him your best contemptuous glare, the one you always reserve for those people you really cannot stand, and look at him like he is something you’ve just trodden in.

“You know Barnes, there is such a thing as being gracious in victory as well as defeat…” “Defeat” he asked, looking at Steve with a puzzled expression on his face “no, not sure what that is…” “Eat shit” you mumble before turning to Sam who is stood behind you, watching the exchange. You nod to him and the two of you continue up the aisle towards the exit. The victim’s family are congregated outside and all at once the start barraging you with questions.

“How did that happen?”

“What do they mean the confession was under duress…?”

“You said it was a cert he would go down…”

“What about a private prosecution…”

You sigh and turn to look at them, you’re exhausted. “I’m sorry… ” you shake your head “that new evidence that his attorney submitted… it was just threw too much of a doubt into the juries mind…” you hold your hand up to gently silence them “if you’re serious about a private prosecution then I can meet you next week to discuss…” You and Sam head back to your office, dump the files and then decide there’s only one thing for it. Alcohol and lots of it. 

“Hey Y/N, hey Sam.” Clint, the bar tender greets you “I hear it wasn’t a great day in court for you…” You look up and he is pointing to the TV behind the bar. It’s on a news channel showing a report from outside the court earlier that afternoon which isn’t surprising. The case had thrown up huge public interest ever since the body of the teenage girl has been found in the alleyway in Queens. The defendant confessed but new evidence had been submitted that afternoon featuring a recording that the defence had gotten their hands on as proof the confession was taken under duress. Being totally honest, you have to admit that it didn’t sound great, the officer did seem to be leaning heavily on the defendant but the other evidence was, no, IS overwhelming. But all it needed was that little shred of doubt and the jury couldn’t convict. And now thanks to Barnes and Rogers, specifically Barnes, in your mind a dangerous killer is walking free. As you stare at the screen you see Barnes with the defendant, all smiles and Steve at his side. Barnes greets the press with a raised hand. “Clint turn it over man…” Sam almost pleads and Clint shouts you both a sympathetic look before he points the remote at the TV and flicks it over to a mundane afternoon game show. You order 2 beers, and then settle at the bar on one of the tall chairs, crossing your bare, heeled legs as you and Sam begin to dissect the case. You can’t help it, you always do this, analyse where you went wrong or right. The pair of you get that enthralled in your discussions, that before you know it’s an hour later and you’re 4 beers deep… and Sam is getting a phone call from his wife, Natasha. “I gotta go boss…” he says apologetically “it’s the kids dance recital at 7 and if I miss this one Nat’s gonna hang me out to dry!.” You wave his explanation off “It’s fine, go Sam. Oh, and take the morning tomorrow…that case has had us working all hours and I don’t intend on being there till lunch… Clint, gimme a bourbon please?” “Don’t let Barnes get to you” Sam says “you know what he is like” “Smug, arrogant and annoyingly self-righteous.” You nod “got it.” Sam smiles and drops a kiss to your cheek. “See you later” Clint slides the glass of bourbon over to you and you smile before pulling out your phone to check a few emails, social media… you’re just reading through an article you found on Twitter about a Billionaire who owns a Technology company in Malibu who has designed some kind of metal suit that allows him to fly (because that’s gonna end well) when a familiar voice breaks your concentration. “Can I buy you a drink?” You roll your eyes and look up at Bucky Barnes as he leans effortlessly on the bar, still in his suit, although he has dispensed of his tie and opened his top button. This is another thing you hate about him. He is utterly gorgeous. Like GQ cover gorgeous, especially in his sharp suits and silk ties…and he fucking knows it too. “Depends.” You say, throwing back the remainder of your bourbon “Does it come with a side helping of irritating smugness?” He chuckles “I’m off duty Doll so no.”

Doll.

“In that case I’ll have another Monkey Shoulder.” You say, picking the good stuff instead of the house brand, and you slide your empty glass back to Clint. “Take it you’re not driving home?” Barnes asks, eyes running over your bare legs. “Well if I do I’m sure you can get me off any charges…” you reply sharply, shooting him a look that makes it clear you caught him eyeing you up. And it isn’t the first time either. That’s another reason you clash so much in the courtroom. Sexual tension. Fucking jerk. He barks a laugh “You’re really not happy with me are you?” “Not particularly.” You say, thanking Clint as he slides the glass to you, with a small wink. It’s a double you notice. That should set Barnes back a bit. The man in question takes his beer and after a pull he looks directly at you. “Come work for me.” He says and you groan, not this again. “I’m a district attorney ” you roll your eyes. “Not a defence attorney. I told you that last time you asked. And the time before…and the time before that…” “I’m nothing if not persistent.” He winks, turning in his stool so he is facing you. “Besides, I can teach you the ways of the dark side…” “You’d love that wouldn’t you?” You snort. “Oh Sweetheart you have no idea.” He leans forward slightly, his elbow on the bar and this time he is blatantly staring at the flash of skin that shows above the buttons on your blouse. “My face is up here, ass hole.” With a smirk he raises his steel grey eyes and they lock onto you. Despite yourself you feel your breath hitch slightly. Dammed him and his sex appeal. “Where you always this insufferable?” You eventually tear your gaze away and pick up your drink, glancing up at the TV as an excuse not to look at him. “Ah come on Y/N, don’t be like that…” he says, reaching out to squeeze the hand that is resting on the back of the tall chair you’re sat in. “We could make a great team…” You raise an eyebrow and look at him. “Professionally” he adds, his eyes not leaving yours as he takes another large drink of his beer, as you pull your hand away from under his. “I’d kill you within 5 minutes of us being in the same office…” you glare at him as you take another sip from your drink. He chuckles and eyes you again “to be fair I’m not sure Stevie would be able to function with a beautiful dame such as yourself in close proximity…he still clusters around any woman that isn’t his Peggy” “That’s because Steve is a happily married man.” You look at him. “So am I.” He shoots back. Ah yes, Mrs Barnes… “Your wife deserves a medal. She must have the patience of a fucking saint to put up with you.” You say into your glass. “I have other hidden qualities which mean she’s prepared to overlook my slightly less favourable personality traits…” he quips and you look back to see that lopsided grin on his face that flips your stomach. Behave Y/N. “They must be very hidden.” You muse, and he lets out a bark of a laugh. “You’re killing me Doll…” “Good.” You drain your glass. The liquid burns your throat and you can feel the effects of the alcohol from the last few hours as your brain starts to hum. You look at Barnes who is watching you, his eyes are shining with all the cheekiness and suggestiveness of a teenage boy and you know you need to leave before you do something stupid- like snogging his dumb, handsome face off in the middle of the bar. “I think it’s time I got going.” You say simply, standing up. Barnes nods, draining his bottle “Yeah I should be going too. Wife to see to, you know how it is…” You stand and he does the same, and you realise he is holding up your jacket, ready for you to slide your arms into. Narrowing your eyes slightly at his sudden chivalry, with a small smile you turn and shrug it on. His hands drop to your shoulders and he spins you round gently and smiles with those perfect teeth and it lights up his beautiful face, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “Lead the way Mrs Barnes…” he says, dropping a soft kiss to your lips. “You know it’s a good job I love you” you smile, sliding your arms up round his neck. “Although right now I’m struggling to remember why I do.“  “Well, when we get home I’ll just have to show you some of those hidden qualities to jog your memory…” You bite your lip slightly at the dark flash of desire that flits across his eyes and you lean up to brush your lips across his stubbled jawline. “Unanimous verdict…” your voice drops slightly as you pull back and he smirks again “Guilty as charged” You bid Clint good bye, link your hand into your husbands and he walks you outside into the brisk wind and his arm pulls you close, his lips press a soft kiss to your temple. Yeah, James Buchanan Barnes Defence Attorney might be smug, arrogant and annoyingly self-righteous in the courtroom, but outside it he’s simply your Bucky.

Tags

@thatfanficstuff​

@djeniiscorner​

@the-omni-princess​

@jtargaryen18 @navispalace @chuuulip

[lifesasickjoke]

The Dirt

The Dirt - part 3

part 2 - part 4

Pairing: Douglas!Nikki x Reader

Word count: 3105 

Chapter summary: With Nikki, Tommy, Vince and Mick becoming more and more popular with the crowds, (Y/N) gets dragged along with them. She attends every show, is invited to every after party, helps the boys get ready to perform, and even protects them from bar fights.

But one night, after a particularly successful show, maybe it's Nikki's turn to be there for (Y/N).

Warnings: Swearing and strippers

(Y/N)?’ Nikki softly whispered into my ear.

But it felt like a tickle so I brushed it aside, flopping myself over and burying my face in my pillow. I heard him sigh heavily and walk around my bed to the other side where I was facing.

‘(Y/N).’ he said a little louder.

There was something lightly brushing against my cheek, his hand I assumed, but then it quickly pulled back and ended up on my shoulder instead, he gently shook my arm.

‘What.’ I groaned and cracked open my eyes, my voice still stiff from sleep. I realized there was no light coming through the window to sting my eyes.

‘Nick, what time is it?’ I blindly reached to turn around my digital alarm clock.

02:35 in the morning. Fuck.

He smiled like he would whenever he wanted something from other people as he bent down to my eye level.

‘Can I borrow your leather pants?’ he asked in a low voice.

‘Yeah. sure. If they fit.’ I sat up and stretched. Nikki cheered and strode out of my room, pants already in his hand.

As I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes I realized something.

‘Wait no, he's gonna stretch them out.’

I kicked the blanket off me and sprinted after him.

‘You are going to be at the concert tonight, right?’ Nikki asked, sticking his head into the bathroom. I just finished tying my hair up.

‘Yeah, I took the day off.’ I opened the cupboard and took out my makeup bag and the brushes that lay next to it.

Nikki leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed, watching me apply some mascara and eyeshadow.

I noticed him watching me apply the makeup with pure concentration through the reflection of the mirror.

‘What?’ I smiled.

His eyebrows creased together.

‘I think I might need your help with something.’

Later on that day, I was helping Nikki and the guys with their makeup. I refused the idea at first, but I couldn't resist Nikki's begging for long because he just becomes clingy and pouty at the same time. So here I was, sitting on the shelf table in one of the dressing rooms in the club the boys rented out for their first show.

I had Nikki’s chin between my fingers, and my foot rested on the little edge of the chair he was sitting on so I could balance my makeup palette on my knee.

I thought he was carefully studying what routine I had and how I applied the makeup, but judging by the teasing smirk on Tommy's face, it could be that he was actually just carefully studying me.

I rubbed my thumb into my more solid black eyeshadow. I gently cupped each of Nikki's cheeks and ran my thumb over his cheekbone, leaving behind a black streak.

When I was done I leaned back and admired my work, then jumped off the shelf table so Nikki could see himself in the mirror behind me.

‘Yeah! That's gnarly, dude.’ Tommy commented as he twirled his drumstick.

The door opened and closed, and Vince strode in, now having changed into his outfit.

‘Man, my girlfriend spent, like, 800 bucks on these leather pants.’ he laughed and squatted to stretch them out.

‘Don't stretch them out.’ I told him, but he completely ignored me (I'm guessing because he didn't hear me) and squatted even further.

‘You like ‘em?’ he asked Tommy, who was wearing similarly tight leather pants.

‘They're cool, bro.’ he agreed.

‘You say everything's cool, Drummer.’ grunted Mick. He wasn’t wrong. Judging by the number of times Tommy had used the word “cool” in the past hour, it started to sound like it was the only adjective he knew.

Nikki reached around my body to grab the bottle of Jack Daniels, which he handed to Vince.

‘Anyone else need anything?’ I asked, about to pack away the makeup palettes.

‘No thanks.’ Tommy replied with an excited smile.

Mick momentarily lowered his sunglasses when he saw me coming towards him so he could threaten me.

‘Bring that stuff anywhere near my face and I'll bite you.’

I put my hands up to surrender, and slowly packed away my makeup.

‘So you think there's gonna be anybody out there tonight?’ Vince asked, hopping onto the vanity table.

‘We put up enough fliers.’ Nikki replied as he was ruffling up his hair. ‘I hope so.’

‘Does anyone have the time?’ tommy asked, also checking himself out in front of the mirror with Vince and Nikki. I looked down at my wristwatch.

‘You guys have about fifteen minutes.’

I smiled at my boys proudly as they prepared for their official first show performance, but like always, they never saw it.

‘Alright,’ I cheered and got my purse, ‘I'll see you guys on the stage.’

‘Yeah, ok.’ the group replied.

‘Good luck!’ I wished them all.

There was a chorus of scattered applause as the band jumped onto the stage, radiant and prideful in their leather clothing. Everyone took their positions on the stage as the talking of the crowd quiet down to an awkward and unsure murmur. I tugged nervously at my crop top to pull it further down.

‘All right! We’re Mötley Crüe!’ Vince prompted. Tommy started softly playing the hi-hat in the background for suspense, but then it fell over with a louder crash. He swore and scrambled to pick it back up. The crowd around me started laughing and jeering.

‘You suck!’ a man in the crowd shouted.

‘Get off the stage!’ said another.

Nikki searched the crowd for me, and when he found me I gave him an apologetic head shake but an encouraging smile.

‘Come on, boys, let's rock this hole!’ Vince nodded. Tommy started playing the drums again, and Mick and Nikki followed with the guitar chords. Their opening song was "take me to the top".

The crowd around me murmured in confusion before the group of buff men in front of me started booing again.

‘Who’s the chick singer?’ the one with the long hair spat. The people around him laughed.

Vince stopped moving around the stage and jeered back, ‘fuck you, asshole.’

I saw the man quickly throw up two middle fingers before leaning forwards and spitting on Vince nice white leather pants. I gasped, disgusted, just like Vince was. Only he jumped off the stage and collided his fist with the man with the long hair.

The man punched him back, sending him stumbling backwards. The music stopped and I looked up at the stage and saw Nikki swinging around his guitar. It clashed with the man with the long hair.

The man fell and Nikki jumped off the stage onto the next guy that was advancing towards him. At this point, I was debating whether I go help him beat up the guys like I usually did, or if I needed a stronger drink.

What the hell I decided and quickly weaved through the crowd and towards Nikki.

The man that he jumped on was already on the ground, but his buddy had Nikki in a choke hold. I kicked said guy in the shins, hoping that none of his buddies were watching. He let go of Nikki and stumbled back.

Nikki store up at me in amazement as I grabbed his arm and helped him up.

‘Just like the old days.’ I chuckled at him before the next guy swung his fist into my general direction.

Nikki noticed him before I did. He grabbed my waist and spun we out of harm's way and intervened. I clumsily stumbled towards the stage because of the momentum Nikki pushed me with. I caught myself just in time to see Tommy also jumping off the stage. He soared through the air and knocked down his target.

I slipped back towards the sidelines of the fight, where Mick was on stage. The guy I punched got up and menacingly ran at me. I yelped and sidestepped out of his first punch.

‘(Y/N), duck.’ Mick said. So I did, and he kicked the guy running at me right in the face, knocking him out.

I laughed.

‘You’re awesome.’

Mick smiled and nodded, and started to strum his guitar.

The fight quickly broke apart because some buff security dudes that belonged to the venue intervened and pulled everyone apart. The bouncers thew the band back at the stage and pulled the other men outside.

Nikki helped Vince up, who had blood tainting his lips and teeth. Tommy jumped up with too much energy, ready for the next fight.

The crowd was silenced.

They were all backed up against the walls of the room to make space for the fighting.

I awkwardly shoved my hands into my pockets, hiding my face from the bouncers so I wouldn't be thrown out.

The last remaining bouncer seemed to be debating whether to let the boys continue playing or to throw them out too.

A shrill, high, voice suddenly bellowed out, scaring the living daylights out of me.

‘Fuck, yeah! Mötley Crüe!’

The man had started clapping, and soon, the rest of the crowd joined in. I laughed with the rest of the crowd and started cheering on my boys.

Nikki saw me cheer, and he started grinning. Tommy pulled him back onto the stage and the crowd followed them up to it, filling in the front of the room densely.  

After the show, I left the crowd and returned to the dressing room. The boys were already inside laughing loudly. I opened the door and met them with a great big smile, but I quickly stepped to Nikki, who was in the centre of the room and threw my arms around his neck. His arms instinctively wrapped around my back

‘That was amazing!’ I marvelled and pulled back from his chest. Nikki gently smiled down at me, with that signature smile only I got. The soft smile. It was the exact opposite of his signature smirk.

He didn't say anything but his eyes did. He didn't need to say anything to me, his smile said it all.

I melted on the inside.

‘You were amazing.’ I told him and unknowingly cupped his neck with both my hands before pulling away and turning to the rest of the guys.

‘You were all amazing.’

‘Are you kidding? We saw what you did to that one guy.’ tommy reflected my enthusiasm. He dove in for a hug as well. And how could I resist? I hugged his skinny waist.

‘That was nothing compared to you guys.’ I denied.

‘Also great singing.’ I turned to Vince. He smiled cockily and opened his arms for a hug too. It might have been an imagination of mine, but I was pretty sure his hands went lower than they were supposed to.

I broke free and finally turned to mick.

‘And thank you so much, for, you know…’ I mimicked the kick, causing the boys to cackle up a bit while mick cracked a small smile.

‘Anything for you’ he grunted as I hugged him as well. He was stiff at first but slowly relaxed into the hug.

I turned to all the boys once more.

‘You guys fucking killed it tonight. Let's hope you do the same at the concerts to come.’

There were already many people lined up outside the club, waiting to be let in. luckily, I had the backstage pass as well as a good relationship with the bouncer, who I served some dinner too once when I met him at the restaurant I worked at and gave him an idea for a potential job. I jogged down the road and past the lines of people. I might have even accidentally bumped into a tall man with long hair in a green and black striped shirt, but I was in too much of a hurry to properly apologize to him. I showed the bouncer my backstage pass card, and he let me wander through with a big friendly smile.

The boys had gotten used to doing another show as soon as possible after the last show ended. Today was no different than the others, besides the number of people already packed inside. As the venue got busier, there was no more space on the dance floor in front of the stage left, and even if I tried to squeeze myself into the crowd I would be rubbing against the person to my left, to my right, to my front, and to my back.

And I didn’t want another thing pressing into my backside as I danced.

No, today I sat at the bar with Vince's girlfriend. The blonde and bossy one. I met with her at the entrance of the venue and we walked to our reserved seats together. She was actually really sweet, and I had a great time going out with her to shop or for dinner. We sat on the barstool, sharing a serving of onion rings, and watched the boys play the same songs as they did every night.

The evening went well for me. I sang along with the crowd and sometimes even danced when my favourite song came on.

The evening didn't go so great for her.

Vince started flirting and singing to another girl in the crowd that was pressed up against the stage, and she slid off her chair and angrily stomped over the front of the room, pushing aside the people in the crowd to get there even faster.  

Later that evening when I was having a coke and talking to one of the guys I met, Vince's girlfriend found me and asked were Vince was. I pointed toward the general direction I saw him slip off to, and a minute later she came storming back, Vince's white pants flung over her shoulder, and Vince stumbling after her completely naked.

‘I fucking love those pants.’ he complained to me. I just shook my head, knowing exactly what had just happened.

By the time the boys finished their performance, the crowd was going crazy. And when the last song ended, the chantings didn't die down. It was obvious to me now, Mötley Crüe had made it.

The boys and I decided to celebrate another successful show down at the rainbow restaurant (strip club). The restaurant itself was practically made to fit every man's fantasy and had the three most favourable things for any man - the three B’s.

Boobs, Booze, and Blowjobs.

Yeah. Blowjobs. They had specific strippers here that offered them for little to nearly no pay. We were all sitting around a table, talking, laughing, and having a good time.

I sat between Nikki and Mick and laughed at something dumb Tommy was doing with the boys. I had a small order of fries in front of me as well, were Nikki once in a while took one from my plate. I would gently shove my elbow into his sides every time. Despite popular beliefs, Nikki is incredibly ticklish. He would jerk away as my elbow came into contact with his rib, but then laughed and pull me a little bit closer.

I could also start to tell mick getting a bit annoyed with our antics. He might have called us out for the ‘flirting’. The rest of the boys noticed it too.

A blonde girl came up to the table. At first, she looked like one of the people that came up to our table to congratulate and gush over the boys. But she didn't start her frantic speech about who or what she loved the best.

She smiled sweetly and sank down to her knees. The boys grew silent as they watched in anticipation as she slowly and sexually lifted up the red table cloth from the table.

I knew what she was going to do, and so did the rest of the boys. My heart began to race at an agonising fast pace as my chest became hotter and the air around me got heavier to breathe in.

The boys (excluding Mick, who had become a little bit uncomfortable as well) glanced at each other quizzically. They started laughing at each other.

Vince jumped in his seat suddenly, then his face twisted into one of pleasure.

Tommy and Nikki started to laugh violently. But I grew too uncomfortable with the whole situation. I didn't want to see this.

‘I'm gonna go get more drinks.’ I said in a fake, more upbeat tone and pushed myself off from the seat and climbed over Mick. ‘Who wants what?’

Beer for Tommy, jack and coke for Nikki, shots for Vince and vodka for Mick. I repeated the orders in my head as I tried to drown out the prostitutes and drunk men around me.

Beer for Tommy, jack and coke for Nikki, shots for Vince and vodka for Mick. I repeated in my head, trying to drown out the thoughts of Nikki getting a blow job right there.

Beer for Tommy, jack and coke for Nikki, shots for Vince and vodka for Mick. I repeated trying to calm myself down.

I finally reached the bar. All the seats close to it were occupied, so I leaned against it and waited patiently for the barman. Or woman. In this case.

She was wearing close to nothing as she danced around pouring drinks for the men on the bar stools. I waited for her to come to me for at least five minutes. Then I noticed that she wasn't even serving any drinks, and instead was flirting with one of the men.

‘Excuse me.’ I called her. She finally noticed me. Her face fell though as she walked over to me.

‘What?’ she asked. ‘Hey, aren't you a little late for your shift? Go get changed.’

I store at her funnily. ‘My shift?’

She scoffed, ‘you work here, don't you?’

‘Uh what? No, I don't work here. No.’ I stammered.

The lady looked me up and down.

‘Oh. sorry. What can I get you?’ her whole persona changed.

‘Ah y-yes. A beer, a jack and coke, three shots, a soda and vodka.’

The lady nodded and started getting out the drinks.

I turned back at the table where the boys were sitting. They seem to be having the time of their life. Especially Nikki. I caught him throwing his head back in pleasure. The rest of the guys laughed maniacally.

I gritted my teeth and turned to the bartender.

‘Actually, strike out the soda. I need something a little stronger.’

Tag list: @getthefckouttahere @kingbouji3 @fandomshit6000 @spookyfrances @kwyloz @triplehaitches @myheadisinvaded @wonderboygenius @inthebackofmycarlaytheirbodies @kawennote09 @the-dopemusiccoffee @versaceismehoe @glitter-rian @miss-ncthing @flizaa @evanpeters3826 @divaanya @extremesadnerding @oskea93

Let me know if I should tag you :D

ONce AGAIN Hasu, you are the best, love you forever, stay awesome.  

[swellwriting]

Serenity

Fandom: Harry Potter ( Marauders Era)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Request : From @fortisfiliae Hi babs! Can I ask for prompt no. 2 with Sirius? (Wow what an amazing one, much ideas, such interesting.) 💕💕

Prompt: “Where is it?”

Word Count: 2.7 k OOPS

Following rules has always been your forte, it just made more sense to follow the rules, easier. So each year when you got a list of things in the mail stating what you could and could not bring to Hogwarts you tended not to stray from it. If something wasn't on the list there was a good chance you didn't need it.

One thing that wasn't banned per say, but wasn't permitted at this point in time were muggle records that weren’t seen as “appropriate” for school. Your parents had bought you a record player over Christmas and you spent all your money you were gifted on records you knew would be okay for Hogwarts standards, mostly fitting your annoying Head girls standards. The Head girl who enforced every rule in the book, even adding a few she felt necessary. You knew for a fact that today said Head girl was at Hogsmeade, actually most of the population of Hogwarts was, except you, or at least so you felt.

Today was one of those days where your lungs felt heavier, your eyes blinked slower and you felt like you had weights tied to both your ankles, if you went for a swim in the lake you'd probably sink straight to the bottom and drown.

Today was one of those days where you said no to your friends invite to Hogsmeade and by the way you looked at your bed so longingly, an array of Fleetwood Mac records in your sweater covered arms and a messy bun atop your head, your friends let you stay behind without much of a fight. Once the door clicked shut you let out a sigh of relief, you still didn't feel necessarily better but you were on the road there, more so at the side of the road with a thumb held out and you were about the hitch a ride with Stevie Nicks herself, the destination being serenity. You gently took the record out the sleeve as if it were to ever get actually scratched by your smooth palm and soft fingertips that held it you couldn't just magically repair it in seconds.

You meticulously placed the needle down and ran back to your bed, jumping up just to fall onto your back with a huff, your feet up against the wall behind your bed as you laid upside down compared to the regular way to lay in bed. You switched between romantically glancing out the window like you were in deep thought, staring at the boring undetailed ceiling and just looking at your own eyelids as the music flowed in one ear around the circumference of your brain and wisping back out the other, not before engraving itself in your soul and lifting your heavy heart. Music wasn’t magic, especially not muggle music but it had magical qualities, as Stevie Nicks voice filled the room everything bringing you down disappeared, but with it disappeared your need for such mellow music. You had two options, two ways in which you could now fill the void you felt, the void that needed to be filled with different music, loud music, angry music.

Option one was enchanting your record player to increase its maximum volume and somehow charming it to only play “The chain” over and over again until the lyrics were engraved in your brain.

Option two was located at the top of the opposite set of stairs, down the hallway to the right and tucked inside a chest marked with the messy handwriting of Sirius Black. The boy you knew for sure had records that would make your Head girls ears bleed if she heard it, music which was the reason his room was usually charmed with a  silencing spell so no one else had to live through his obsession with muggle punk rock music. No one else aside from his roommates, the roommates you were 99% sure you would have gone with your friends to Hogsmeade today meaning their room would be empty and the records unused and just waiting to be played. It didn’t take much to get to their room, you didn't even bother knocking after placing your ear to the door and listening for any sound inside. You slowly creaked the door open looking and seeing no one there, you entered and quickly tried to decipher which part of the room was Sirius’. You had only been in here a handful of times and each time you were drunk after a party and the room was filled with your friends eager to play whichever drinking game they thought of this week. When you located Sirius’ chest you opened it and grabbed a record, just the Ramones one, an instant classic that you knew you would fit your every need.

Unbeknownst to you, you weren't alone in this room. Remus Lupin was leaving the bathroom when his eyes met your bent over form rummaging through his friends things.

“Looking for something?”

The somehow both quiet and booming voice behind you scared you to say the least as you jumped up nearly dropping the record in your hand but quickly catching it. “Careful now, no sense in stealing something if your just going to break it.”

You turned around quickly with a finger held in the air. “Not stealing, just borrowing. And I wouldn't have nearly dropped it if you hadn’t scared me!”

“Scared you? You’re in my room, maybe you scared me.” You crossed your arms over the record and held it to you chest as if he was going to try to snatch it out your needy fingers. “Oh because i'm super terrifying Lupin.”

You stood there awkwardly, gently gripping the sides of the record not sure what to say next.

“So what are you doing sneaking into our room and taking what appears to be Sirius’ favorite record?”

“I just wanted to borrow it, I just only have a few records and I needed music of ...this velocity.”

“Understandable, though I never saw you as a punk rock type, i'm sure Sirius would love to learn that about you.”

“No”, you interrupted quickly making your way to the door.“He doesn't have to know, not if you don't tell him.” You said backing out of the door not giving him any other option than to accept  your plan.

“I saw nothing!” He yelled as you closed the door and ran back to your room.

What failed to be mentioned in your brief conversation with Remus was that along with Remus, Sirius wasn't gone for the day at Hogsmeade like you had assumed. You were right in guessing that Lily had asked them to join but they had an impromptu Quidditch practice today after a lost game to Slytherin the other night. Although he mentioned that the record of your choice was one of Sirius’ favorite he didn't mention that Sirius listened to it specifically after Quidditch practices, he saved post Quidditch games for the likes of “The Clash” instead. So as you lied down in bed, cast a silencing spell and let the angry and loud and catchy music fill the room and your ears; Sirius was simultaneously just getting back to his room, freshly showered and prepared to do exactly zero homework and sit in bed. Remus watched with a knowing smirk on his face as Sirius seemed confused why he couldn't find his beloved vinyl.

“Where is it?” Sirius asked more to himself than to Remus/ like he had been the one to misplace it and never assuming someone snuck into their room just to steal it.

“Where is what?”

“My Ramones Record, you know the-”

“The one you listen to after every Quidditch practice you have ever gone to? That one?” Remus asked innocently. He may have lied when he said he would keep your little secret for you, maybe because he didn't have the patience to watch Sirius tear the room apart to look for it or maybe because he knew Sirius’ secret as well, the one where he admitted to having a crush on Lily’s quiet friend who didn't come around often enough.

Sirius turned around to face his friend with his eyes squinted at him and stated calmly. “You say that like you know exactly where it is.”

“As a matter of fact I do!” Remus held a cocky tone with him, like he was the puppeteer getting ready to pull your strings and force you and Sirius to interact. “Your favorite friend of Lily’s has it.”

“Why would Y/N have my favorite record?” Sirius tried not to draw attention to the blush surfacing on his cheeks at the mention of you.

“She is borrowing it?”

“And you let her!” Sirius frustratingly threw his hands in the air and then let them rest tangled up in his hair like having to talk to you was the most stressful thing he would have to encounter.

“Of course, she has a face you just can't say no to, she seemed like she needed it.”

“Of course she did it's the best album ever, what am i supposed to do now?”

“Go get it, you idiot you know where her room is don't you?”

And with that Sirius gulped and accepted the fact that if he wanted his record back he would have to go get it. Sirius closed his chest and casually pushed his hair away from his face causing his friend to mutter a “You look fine”, from behind his book.

When he got to your room, unlike you, he knocked but you couldn't hear him, both from the silencing spell and the loud music. He swallowed his fear, which was unusual for him to feel when it came to a girl, but usually girls made it obvious when they liked Sirius but you were quiet in that sense too. Sure you were nice to him but you were nice to Remus to and what was he even worrying about he wasn't coming in here to propose he was just asking for his record back. As he opened the door and took in the scene his feelings grew for you tenfold. Maybe it was the slight way you bobbed your head to his favorite songs, maybe it was the way you laid upside down on your bed that was so enticing he wanted to lie next to you and bob his head with you, but he stood still letting the door close behind him making you sit up startled, you blushed embarrassed when you realized he was there. Sitting up on your bed and bringing your knees to your chest you smiled sheepishly at him as he grabbed his wand and lowered the volume of your music.

“Nice taste in music Y/N, but stealing is not nice.” He teased as well as he could, trying to act his usual self but being alone with you made him nervous.

“I wasn't stealing, just borrowing. I assumed you would be at Hogsmeade all day today, it would have been back in your room before you got back, you wouldn't have ever noticed.”

“I didn't even know you liked The Ramones.” He said quietly like it was to just himself as he sorted through the few records you had. “Fleetwood Mac, Abba and the Beatles, quite a variety you have here.”

He left the record playing and walked towards you. ”I don't know a lot of things about you.”

“What do you want to know?” You asked sweetly playing with the fabric of your sweater as you spoke, he stood in front of you and you had to bend your neck back pretty far just to meet his eyes with yours. “I want to know what made you steal my record over anyone else in the school, and why it had to be my favorite one of them all.” He smiled playfully biting his bottom lip just the slightest as he looked down at you.

“Well, your the only person I knew for sure had something i’d want to listen to, and hopefully wouldn't be too mad at me if he found out i’d taken one.” You imitated his smile as you brought your knees down, no need to feel guarded or hide yourself around Sirius. Maybe there was part of you that hoped he would come searching for his record, maybe you wanted this, wanted him here. One thing you knew was you were going to take advantage if this situation.

“Well right you are, I do have the best music taste in Hogwarts.”

“Oh do you have a plaque that says so?” You were quick to tease him, conversation was easy with Sirius. You lied back down and put your feet against the wall turning the music back up and closing your eyes with a wide smile from ear to ear like you were trying to pretend Sirius wasn't even there.

“Oh I see, you’re just gonna ignore me and drown me out with my own record?” He yelled.

“Well what do you want with it?”

“I would like to listen to it, I always do after a Quidditch practice.”

“Well what are you hearing right now?”

“Oh ha ha, Y/N, hilarious really! But i’d rather not stand here and listen to half of the record.” He tilted his head to the side as he looked at you wanting to just lie down beside you but not having the courage to take make that move. You opened one eye and looked at his pouting face, you grabbed his hand closest to you and pulled him down onto the bed to lie beside you nearly squishing you since it was such a small space. He made himself comfortable as he matched his feet with yours against the wall and flicked his wand to restart the album. You just looked at him, examining his face not caring if it was weird to stare this long and he looked right back and you laid like that for a while, not even paying mind to the loud music.

Sirius broke the silence smoothly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you closed your eyes in delight at the small touch,“You tired?”

“Yeah”, you agreed quietly not opening your eyes.

“A long day of thieving and heist planning”, he more of commented than asked.

“Hey it would have worked if I had known your schedule better.”

“Would you like to?” Sirius asked with a hopeful look on his face that you couldn't see as your eyes were closed and sleep was slowly pulling you away.

“Well my schedule tomorrow is hopefully going to include taking you to Hogsmeade and upgrading your record collection, everyone went today apparently so it should be nice and quiet there.”

“I can’t listen to most records here even with a silencing spell my Head girl is a nutcase.”

“I guess you will just have to come to my room then.”

“Yeah I guess so.” You smiled as he pulled you closer against him, you intertwined your leg between his and snuggled your head against his chest. This was far better than an serenity you had known before.

You weren’t going to fall asleep you thought but as Sirius flicked his wrist and put one of your quieter albums on you repeated that thought in your head, I won’t fall asleep , I won’t... fall....asleep.

It didn't take long for Sirius to fall asleep once you had, your slowed breathing and the unusually calm music playing, he couldn't help it. Maybe it was also a reason for him not to leave yet, to enjoy being this close to you. Lily was beyond surprised when she came back to the room and saw two of her friends who had never even hung out alone before cuddled up lying the wrong way on a tiny bed, she just turned the record player off so the silent record would stop spinning and quietly closed the door behind her not wanting to ruin your moment.

Tag List: @sjriusblck @theboywhocriedlupin @moonlitdiggory @wanna-see-my-lease @moonynprongs @bluemadcnna @starlitfawkes @dyngflwrs @jamcspotters @siriuslyimmoony

[wardoftheedgeloaves]

China Story Time II: Learn Programming and Epidemiology the Very Hard Way

I haven’t posted more than two installments of my promised series on Chinese historical linguistics and dialectology. In lieu of progress on it, please gather round the campfire and enjoy this entirely unrelated story about the time I taught the summer camp from hell in Shenzhen. (Dialectology tie-in: we once had a cabbie who only [?] spoke Canto.)

I wish to emphasize that this story has not been embellished.

Summer in China is a sultry and slow-paced affair for the private-school English teacher--you stop teaching seriously in late May, school gets out in late June, and you don’t have to be back until early September. Your pay is good enough that you’ve got savings to last you the summer, but you could always use a bit of spare cash. Unless your social situation is good, your isolation (and the weather) doesn’t help your work ethic too much. Your life is lived at tea houses, reading thinkpieces and books and procrastinating on writing more thinkpieces and working on your Mandarin and getting around to that damned monograph. (Alternative English-teacher mode: hit the bars prowling for locals who may or may not fit within the (n/2)+7 rule, demolish a couple of six-packs’ worth of alcohol, hit the hay at 2:30 in the morning, wake up at noon, repeat. I was luckily never this much of a degenerate.)

As in the US, the affluent Chinese parent often sends their offspring to summer camp for some educational enrichment and peace and quiet at home. So it was that a recruiter offered me, and another English teacher (we’ll call him...Nick) in Chengdu, the chance to earn 7000 kuai (~$1050) each teaching programming in Shenzhen. A class in the morning from 9-12, repeated from Monday to Friday, with a chance for a second week in Lu’an, Anhui. Plane tickets and accommodation included, other details vague. Technically illegal--you’re not supposed to do any work outside of the job sponsoring your visa--but nobody cares about summer camps.

To learn programming, the students (and we) are provided with little inch-by-inch-by-inch plastic cubes with wheels called “Pocket-bots” or something of the sort. These are actually rather nifty little gadgets. You connect to them with your phone or computer in a spacious computer lab (or so the brochures say) and click and drag instructions to create and run programs. E.g., you might tell the bot to go forward for 10 seconds at speed 10, then check to see if it was on white (rather than black) paper, and sing a little song if it is, then turn left and repeat. The software allowed you to do if-loops, for-loops, and while-loops at the very least, which is pretty good for small kids. Satisfied that we would have the equipment needed to teach the class, we packed our Pocket-bots and arrived in Shenzhen on a sticky, hot, sunny July morning.

Now, a word on Shenzhen. In 1978 when Deng took the wheel, Shenzhen was a sleepy little fishing village of thirty thousand people whose only interesting feature was that it was right next to Hong Kong. This made it perfect for the early-80s experiments in capitalism, and over the next four decades it exploded (it now has 12 million people and a standard of living on par with Western Europe). As a result of its early rise to wealth and power, it’s home to the first private school in China, founded 1994. However, private schools in China tend to be boarding schools, and boarding schools tend to be out away from the city center where land is cheap and distractions are relatively few.

So this place is in the middle of nowhere, or as close to the middle of nowhere as it’s possible to get in the Pearl River Delta. It’s surrounded by forested mountains (Guangdong is surprisingly hilly). It’s about 95 (35) degrees, humid as hell, and in direct sunlight--July, south of the Tropic of Cancer. We’re in the kids’ dorm rooms (luckily we each get our own private dorm room with a private, cold-running shower.) We drop our bags, wash up, and go meet the kids.

And it turns out that a fifth of them are Americans! You see, this wasn’t just a programming camp--it was also an English and cross-cultural experience camp. Approximately 15 high-school kids from Florida and California were being flown out, all expenses paid, to be big-brother/big-sister with the Chinese kids, who were in late elementary school. The chaperone (we’ll call her Margaret; in fact I can’t actually remember her name, but it definitely wasn’t Margaret), the mother of one of the kids, was thoroughly perplexed--but, hey, a free trip to China.

So Nick and I go and look at the teaching rooms (this is about one in the afternoon). These aren’t the sparkling, spacious computer labs we saw on the website, oh no. We have a couple of primary school classrooms no more than about five meters by six, with laughably tiny kindergartner-sized chairs and tables. There’s a smartboard, which we can barely get to run and which we can’t connect to our computers to show the programs the kids are supposed to run. There’s no free access to the wifi. Instead, we have to get our teaching assistants to put their login credentials on every single device that needs to connect to the wifi--and since you have to have wifi to connect to the robots, well. In other words, it’s going to be a s***show, and we’ve got five mornings of it ahead of us.

We know the inevitable talk/confrontation with our boss/program coordinator is going to be a disaster, so we leave for a few hours to try and find a six-pack of Tsingtao. Remember how I said this was in the middle of nowhere? It was in the middle of nowhere. We walk out of the gates for a full kilometer (possibly more; the road meandered, and the terrain was by no means flat) past construction sites and dense forest bordering on jungle until we finally, finally reach an air-conditioned convenience store nestled between auto-repair shops, low-rise tile-walled tenements, light industry and eight-kuai noodle parlors. (Those of you who have been outside of a major city center in China will know the kind of neighborhood I’m talking about--not dangerous, by any means (except for the traffic), but boring, sprawling and not overly prosperous.) But they have beer, and we knock back two each along with a good liter of water.

We have a chat with the supervisor at about 9 o’clock that evening while the kids are engaging in...god, I don’t even recall. I think the Chinese kids were in bed, while the Americans were playing cards and vidya. Now readers who have spent much time in China or with Chinese organizations will know that it is a faux pas in China to admit fault, and an even bigger faux pas to play hardball to get somebody to admit fault. The result, usually, is deflection--our supervisor didn’t know about any of this, it wasn’t her fault, she would ask her boss to try and improve things.

(I don’t wish to come across as too hard on Chinese culture here. I think this is really a situation where American and Chinese culture are doomed to clash, and clash badly. If you fuck up in the US, you’re supposed to admit fault and apologize, at least theoretically--deflection and white lies are infuriating on the receiving end and the natural reaction is to start tearing them apart to get an admission of contrition. In China, the convention is often that you tell a white lie or deflect to save face--and if the other person you’re talking to is Chinese, they’ll often accept that even if it’s not really believed. The result in Chinese-American communication can be an arms race, where the American will get ticked off at the deflection and perceived dishonesty and start playing hardball, which prompts more deflection. Looking back on it now, it was clear that trying to play hardball with our supervisor was pointless--we were never going to get good computer labs or WiFi, and the only thing to do was to figure out something to do. But knowing that we’d at least theoretically been hired to teach programming, we endeavoured to do our best. (Remember, between flying all the Americans over and the company’s profit, the Chinese parents were getting fleeced.) Nick had recently discovered the stern precepts of Jordan Peterson after catching herpes-type-2 (that’s the bad kind) of the mouth from a liaison with his dermatologist, and reminded me that it was our duty to do the best we could by the students.

Day one: Monday.

There are about 70-75 kids in the program between the Chinese and the Americans, so we have about 35 each at least in classrooms of about fifteen square meters, sitting on tiny little kindergarten chairs at tiny little kindergarten desks (not so much of a problem for the Chinese elementary-schoolers, much more uncomfortable for the American high-schoolers). Our teaching assistants spend most of their time in the back playing on their phones after they’ve set the WiFi on each device, which takes about an hour to get worked out. (Remember, three-hour class with a fifteen-minute break). Each room has an underpowered air conditioner which succeeds in reducing the temperature from the mid-30s C to the upper 20s (from about 92 to 78 in freedom degrees) if the windows are closed, at the cost of any breezes.

And we run into the first problem. Your device uses WiFi to connect automatically and effortlessly to a nearby Pocketbot. That’s not a problem when you’re in a spacious computer lab with ten other people and a strong signal. When you’re in a tiny little room with thirty-five other people and a network that wouldn’t have been out of place in the last years of the Clinton administration, well. 

Some kids couldn’t connect to their bot at all. Others were controlling four robots at once with a single device. Some were able to stay connected through the session, others’ internet kept crapping out every ten minutes.

After an hour and twenty minutes of this, we call a twenty-minute break.

easternestablishmentarian: “What the fuck do we even do?”

Nick: “No idea. Start in on the basic ideas of programming. Have the teaching assistants translate.”

We do. The teaching assistants are not all that happy about having to play translator, particularly since their English isn’t very good and the concepts are, well, complicated! I had some success in doing the teacher-as-robot routine you see in intro programming classes, where you have to tell the teacher exactly what to do (Keep going! *teacher-bot crashes into wall*), and extended this up to about half past eleven by making it a group activity where the Chinese kids had to direct their American big-sibling robots around the room. We spent about another fifteen minutes trying to do something, anything, with the robots--remember, we couldn’t show our laptop screens on the smartboard, which didn’t work, so we had to draw the program with chalk. At about 11:45 we just call it quits and let them leave for lunch early.

Right after lunch (which, incidentally, was extremely strange--the cafeteria staff had been instructed to try to make some sort of Chinese-Western fusion, with results like spaghetti with both tomato and soy sauce. If only they’d just stuck to good local dishes, of which there are hundreds, but oh well...) we call an emergency meeting with Margaret.

Margaret: You guys aren’t going to bail on us, are you? I have no clue what’s going on.

Me: No, but it’s clear that there’s no way to do programming and the kids’ll hate it. Let’s just do a regular summer camp.

Later that day we go back out for more beer and sketch out a plan. We don’t have WiFi or devices worth a damn, so electronics are off. However, we do have a campus of at least twenty or thirty acres filled with small fields and six-story dorms and classrooms connected by a labyrinth of walkways. (During the school year, the school is home to about three thousand students, all boarding, so it’s the size of a couple city blocks at least.)

We call a meeting with our supervisor.

Nick: This isn’t working. We can’t do programming.

Supervisor: Well, do you have any other ideas?

Nick: We could do sports and games.

Supervisor: Oh, I think that will be wonderful!

(Nick, later: “How much are these parents paying again?”)

Day two: Tuesday.

We start with Sardines, which degenerates into chaotic hide-and-seek but keeps them occupied for a good hour and a half. The teaching assistants are sent to look for athletic equipment like basketballs, which they’re not too happy about. Midway through break we run out of cups.

Us: “It’s 35 degrees outside and we don’t have enough water. There are only two water dispensers for 80 people and no more cups.”

Teaching assistant: “Oh, well, we didn’t know we would run out. I don’t know where the water is, maybe they can bring some tomorrow.”

Us: *sigh*

We discover that some air-conditioned buses (dlory! dlory! hallelujah!) stop right in front of the school and run towards a major commercial center. We go out for hotpot.

Nick: “So, fun fact--I’m actually on a spousal visa. I married a local chick for visa purposes.”

Me: “Huh.”

Nick: “Yeah, we divorced, but the immigration department doesn’t have access to divorce records and my visas’s still valid. Can’t technically work on it, though.”

Day three: Wednesday.

Capture the Flag, followed by semi-structured time in which the Americans are divided into groups, assigned Chinese students, and instructed to create activities. We run out of cups again.

Nick: *drinking straight from the water dispenser tap*

Me: “Didn’t you say you caught...”

Nick: “Shut up, easternestablishmentarian.”

Me: “...”

Me: “There are seventy-five kids here.”

Nick: “Just shut up.”

I buy my own personal supply of bottled water that afternoon. He did agree to only fill up a bottle from that point onwards.

Us: “Supervisor, please tell us--will there be WiFi when one of us teaches programming with the robots in Lu’an in Anhui?”

Supervisor: “Oh, uh, I don’t know, I am not going to Anhui.”

Us: “Please find out.”

Day four: Thursday. 

It being sunny and slightly cooler, we take the kids on a hike through a back trail that goes by a farm and into the woods. Guangdong proves to be home to some terrifyingly large arthropods, none of which are aggressive.

After lunch, we debate who will go on to Lu’an. Nick makes a good case for needing the money, so I cede it (in part because Anhui is a notoriously boring and underdeveloped province, and Lu’an is only its second- or third-biggest city).

Us: “So, supervisor, please tell us.”

Supervisor: “Oh, yes, there is no WiFi for the summer camp in Anhui, I asked.”

Us: “But Nick’s going to be teaching robots again?”

Supervisor: “Well, maybe he can also teach something else, like English, but yes, it’s a robot camp.”

Us: “But you need WiFi to work with the robots.”

Supervisor: “Oh, I’m not the supervisor in Anhui, just here in Shenzhen, so I didn’t know.”

Day five: Friday.

After a laughably pointless closing ceremony, we collect our paychecks (in cash) and head into Shenzhen, where Nick tries to send it out. 

Bank teller: “So, uh, what are you doing in China?”

Nick: “I’m visiting family, it’s a spousal visa.”

Bank teller: “OK, so I don’t think this is possible, you have the tax form?” (note: this is quite common for foreigners, even those on legal visas--foreigners’ money has all sorts of systems and regulations surrounding it that most bank tellers don’t know how to handle (because there are so few foreigners), and to avoid losing face they will often just tell you that it’s not possible to do what you want to do.)

At this point, I’m starting to shake my head furiously in Nick’s direction--get us out of here before they start asking questions about where this money came from and call immigration. After two hours, we give up.

Me: “You could have gotten us deported.”

Nick: “Nah, man, they’re just clueless bank tellers.”

I fly back to Chengdu the following day seven thousand kuai richer, while Nick hangs on until Sunday and then flies to Lu’an with the Americans, where another group of Chinese kids get their parents fleeced for robots that don’t work (though, as he told it, things worked out fine, kind of.) The kids, incidentally, were great about the whole incident--the Chinese kids I think in part because their lives are so structured that just getting to run around was a breath of fresh air for them. The Americans were fairly willing to work around the absurdity. Nobody got deported and nothing’s appeared in the news about an epidemic of the sort of disease that schoolchildren aren’t supposed to get.

So we come to the moral of the story, children: all’s well that ends well, and buy your own water.

[rakuraiwielder]

I'm working on your ask, but here's some for you: I, A, M, S, P, O, T

Ask prompt here: x

thanks puffin!! this is gonna be long and nostalgic eyy

I - HasTumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why? 

I wouldn’t say “actively dislike” butthe toxicity of fandom on this website has sucked away most of my passion for Voltron lol. I used to really dig itthe first month or so after getting really into it when S2 aired. I still havean unfinished draft for a 7-parter rarepair fic //ey guess my fav duo ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)// sitting in my folders. don’t think I’llbe touching it any time soon though. im rather burnt out from this fandom, evenif I do still enjoy watching all the new seasons thereafter.

another is StevenUniverse ah a. (but in its and my defence, I wasn’t really into it anywaysas compared to other fandoms. the songs are still good, but I haven’t beenkeeping up with the newer Steven bombs, one part because of motivation, andanother because the thought of going into the tags to reblog contentintimidates the heck out of me pffft)

A - Ships that youcurrently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone hasOTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

(puffin this question is gonnatake up half the ask oh god)oh bOY where do I start hahahaha. there’s so many aph and fe callbacks hahaha few otps aside I really have too manycrackpairs and platonic friendship ride-or-die squads I would die for. theseare only a few really relevant ones from the top of my head-

OTPS:

Norway/Vietnam (Hetalia) – alWAYS. i dont talk about and reblog much aph anymore but i still think about these two frequently. they were my first and closestthing ever to an actual otp in all my years of knowing what an otp was gosh Ihope to write about them again soon. their dynamics are the peak of mypreferences.

MU(avatar unit)/Silas (FE Fates) – thechildhood friends + loyal knight and liege trope + a pinch of memory loss wasnever really my thing, but guess there’s a first for everything ha h a ah a….silas is too pure for the angst I put him through im so sorry ಸ ل͜ ಸ

Berkut/Rinea (FE: SOV) – the second that one cutscene of these two played I got1000% more invested in the story pffft. anyways rinea may be top tier fav andberkut shit tier fav, and their story tragic as heck (and I would also arguethat he doesn’t deserve her), but their genuine and honest love for each otheramidst the incoming death flags gets me every time

707/MC (Mystic messenger) – honestly they can either be a really good platonicdynamic duo or a solid otp. purely from the perspective of my own MC, theycomplement each other well; perfect balance of light-hearted teasing and asolid wall of comfort for each other.

Ray-Saeran/MC (Mystic messenger) – ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

(Other) Ships:

Seychelles/Iceland/HK (Hetalia) – they are good togetherromantically or platonically hahahaha. a good golden trio of kids

Russia/Vietnam (Hetalia) – their potential relationship and clashof character due to conflicting personalities fascinate me. a totally differentnoir vibe from norviet and one I hope to explore if I ever come back to aph

Nyx/Leo (FE Fates) – nyx ships are reallyrare but half of them are surprisingly sweet and poignant. Odin and Laslow tooare really sweet candidates to woo this jaded grandma’s heart.

MU/Laslow (FE Fates) – got to thank a wacky7-11 employee au dream I had for this one. but in the games their supportconversations are surprisingly thoughtful and low-key flirting which was notwhat I expected at all. wholesome.

Ham/Kai (MUxMU, FE) – remember when I said protag/protagships are the good stuff? yea h thatprincess tutu au is coming along swell

Alm/Celica (FE: SOV) – the rare main canon couple I love whodon’t die and get their happy ending (LOL this sounds really pathetic now thatI’ve said it)

Leon/Valbar (FE: SOV) – no one is surprised LOL. romantic orno, as long as leon is happy with where he stands with valbar and valbar ishappy with where he is im happy for them both

Conrad/Rinea (FE: SOV) – I know there are a couple of youreading this whos gonna give me that look but liste n; they could have met, and there is potential for them.(honestly this is just like another norviet situation where I put my 2 topfaves together for crackpair experimentation bUT IT WORKS I ASSURE YOU)

Zen/MC (Mystic messenger) – zen is so earnest that I can’t refute himhahaha. he also has a special seat in my mysme heart, since he was the firstroute I played and made me create content for the fandom proper

707/Jaehee (Mystic messenger) – they are rapidly gaining OTP status ꉂ (´∀｀)ʱªʱªʱª aaaa nightmare flashbacks because justlike norviet they really are the rarest of crackpairs and have almost to no content(gonna get down to business and churn fic out one day). these two are moresimilar than they’d think too.

Cecil/Haruka (Utapri) – ahahaha a good ship from a guiltypleasure fandom

(Purely) Platonic:

Izuku/Iida/Ochako (BNHA) – the first golden trio of thisseries. I love them so much.

Vanderwood/MC (Mystic messenger) – they parallel each other. truly thebiggest ride-or-die duo I will support to the end of time

Zen/Yoosung (Mystic messenger) – zen is such a mother hen to yoosungwwwww truly wholesome

Chise/Ruth (Ancient Magus Bride) – platonic master/familiar-partner relationships where both of them care for each other so much to the point where they would die for the other are my one weakness. its the reason i love writing more fleshed-out pokemon aus and loyal dogs/animals in longer fics. anyways these two are good

M - Name acharacter that you’d like to have for a friend.

707. It would be a trip justknowing him. (apart from the memes. but my life is already 80% meme, honestlywhats the difference ahahaha aaa-) Just, I feel like it would be really fun tohang out with him and revel in his wackiness (even if that personality is afront, maybe one day when i finally get into his inner-circle of friends, I hopeto be privy and be a good listening ear to his truer, more sombre personality.)

On the other hand, myself-confidence and 2nd hand embarrassment will be directlyproportional to each other (And im 100% sure Seven is the kind of person whowill exploit that hAH)

S - Show us anexample of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

Every relevant character inMysmes is either a type of asexual (greysexual etc.), or on various points ofthe bi-spectrum. Yeah; even self-proclaimed, “straight-laced” Zen lol.

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (wealways need more ideas)

Vampire/Selkie AU ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

a selkie whose skin gets stolen and hidden from a human man is forced to become his bride and taken back to his village. there, to escape the stares of bigoted villagers and the clutches of her overbearing and possessive husband, she takes refuge in the only place he would not go; the old holy church.

only, she finds she isn’t the first to occupy this place of solitude. the master of the church notices her soon enough, and when vampire recognises the ancient weave of magic that flows within her, he appears; intrigued for something other than a fresh meal.

(basically a deviation from the standard vampire (romance-ish) novels lolol plot bunny hit me pre-Christmas eve dinner/yesterday and sofar im digging it. still planning the ship and fandom though; it might very easily be OC-based)

O - Choose a songat random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

since 1 is never enough, hereare 4 songs I was listening to recently:

Little Knights, Nem feat.Noire : Zen/MC(a zen-ish song through and through)

over and over, Yanagi Nagi : Saeran Choi + 707&MC(more saeran-centric with interpretative lyrics and referencing to both ray andunknown personas)

Finding something to do, HelloGoodbye : 707/Jaehee(fits their “don’t go where I can’t follow” dynamic haha ow.)

Life will Change, Shoji Meguro + Benjamin Franklin feat. Lyn Inaizumi : Kai(mui) or Ham(let)(honestly the entire persona 5 ost is massive fe fates protag feels)

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons thatyou will die defending?

Not really. I’m a very flexible person when it comes tointerpretable lore and content, especially if it’s the type of HCs that thefandom collectively comes up with. Unless it’s a canon fact, I like to dabble orjust stay away from HCs in general. If I have to come up with some in my fics,then so be it. But most of the time these HCs are either super vague or onlyapply to the context in this particular piece or series of writing. Basically Idon’t mind switching HCs for charas frequently as long as it does notfundamentally change their own character. (HCs for hobbies and loves and habitsand relationships apart from their inner circle, etc. are all fine)

Honestly it just boils down to expectations lol I know myown limits, and I know not to be disappointed when canon updates end updebunking (popular) fandom HCs or my own.

[ivycali-blog]

Musical Ideas From My Notebook Pt.4

Pace: Straight-time, accelerating, decelerating. Combinations: Staggered, Clustered

Shape: Ascend (Types? Stairsteps, Back & Forth, straight, etc.), Descend (Stairsteps, Back & Forth, Straight, etc), Linear Cominations: Staggered, Clustered

The music is a symbolic representation of the message/vocals

Pop songs are more mathematic/artificial than drug-out/speech-like songs.

Build the song up to meet the imagined/intended outcome.

Repetition, solos, & breaks aid absorption.

Aesthetic sounds have lots of texture.

Megan Thee Stallion (Feat. DaBaby) - Cash Shit: “Slurp” sound - highly aesthetic, “lack of concern” vibe

What would you be doing in the situation the song is portraying? Sipping while driving or grinding (Cash Shit) (Song is about grinding, then you get a relaxed “slurp” every now and then to give it a confident/relaxed feel.)

What elements do I want to include? Then how and when do I want them to play out?

Pattern: Comprehendible variation/Texture: Blended/rapid/incomprehendible variation

We learn through association. The more things you can relate/associate with a concept you’re trying to learn, the easier the process will be.

What are your repeating motifs? What do you want (them) to absorb?

Create a cheat sheet of helpful songwriting tips to set at your desk. (Plug n’ go)

What media/influences surrounded you during your youth? (1995-2007) Use aesthetics/associations from those sources.

The lyrical message could be like a dream/fantasy scene. (Erotica lol)

“Does this song sound “insert intended vibe” enough? Create a convincing soundtrack of tones, feelings, & dynamics to frame your “intended vibe” song.

Gunshot=gangster, so overtime the gunshot goes off, you’re reminded what type of song this is. Your brain goes “gangster!”

Write a “_” <-- (vocal attitude overtone) song about “_”.

During writer’s block moments, listen to Post Malone, Travis Scott, or any other artists that keep it simple & to the point.

Post Malone - Rockstar (”I feel just like a rockstar”<-- Main point)

Variety, contrast, rhythm, & melody<--incorporate these wherever you can

It’s all about where the lead melody is in relation to the rhythm melody/bass

Setting=context/vibe component

“Roots in the ground” song: Short motifs (at end specifically) -->Short, playful notes, not emotional

Straight-time beats vs groove beats

Rhythmic simple melody/note vs. complex melody

Complex vocal melody vs. simple vocal melody <--contrast

Where would you hear this song being played at?

Come up with/imagine a prompt melody to start your lyrics. From there it’s not hard.

Get into character when writing. If it’s gangster, dress/act gangster when you write. Method act.

Story (vocals) vs. context (Instrumentals), which is easier to start with (writing)

Songwriting is equivalent to painting mental-pictures.

Start with a sentence about something, then repeat, alter subtle aspects, or elaborate.

Play with small clusters/multiples (1, 2, 3, 4, 5)<--Seconds notes/chords are being held, or number of times within a section/cycle notes are being played in a motif.

1/4=Straight-time, 3/4=Exponential Cycle? (Fibonacci Numbers)

1, 2, 3, 4 or some rhythm in 1/8 time, then the same rhythm in 1/4 time creates more complex rhythms

Mismatching (right-hand) chords with their (left-hand) bass melody is fun

Music is constantly diverging and converging.

Post Malone - Rockstar main vox melody: D#, D#, D#, D#, D#, D#, D#, D#, D#, D#, D#, D#, D, D, D, D, D, D#, D, C (Anchor notes used: D#, D, C)

Secondary vocal melody: G, F, G, F, G, F, G, C, A#, A#, A#, A#, A#, A#, G#, G, F, D#/A#, A#, A#, A#, G#, G, F, D# (Anchor notes used: G, F, C, A#, G#, D#)

2-chord songs pull you from where you are (home base) to the feeling they want to put you in.

3-chord songs pull you & throw you in the air to a new feeling

4-chord songs are an emotional dance with multiple arch/climax points

5-chord songs add stair steps to these arch/climax points

The first note/chord/rhythm is your center/baseline emotional place. The song will take you from there. This prompts specific contrast in relation to the starting point.

Start with the showcased instrument - for hip-hop, it’s the bass & 808′

What’s the minimum amount o times you need to create variation? (Example: Sectional changes, key changes, beat changes, etc.)

Music - an ordinary message for an extraordinary frame

Essential component: Change of pace, focus, & emotion

Hum/beatbox something good, then input the lyrics

For a Post Malone/Tank God - Rockstar type song, describe the massive party/scene and shift the focus to different events/scenes within. (Why you got a 12 car garage? Been fucking hoes and popping pillies, don’t give a damn, it was legendary threw a TV out the window of the montage<--all fit the mood & describe different aspects of the rockstar life)

They’re gonna take your word for it, whatever you say/describe in the song.

Even if you’re trying to portray a different character, it’s still coming out of YOU.

When listening to music, you want a specific feeling to move you.

Jump into the song’s portrayed character when singing.

Simple to complex ratio: Amount of time:number of notes/chords

Is the melody accompanying the beat? or vice versa?

For each instrumental/vocal motif, write something that screams the vibe you’re going for.

“Ooh, that feels “_”.

If you can dance, vibe, & laugh, you’re in the correct mindset to write music.

Take the process 1 section at a time.

Create as much non-clashing variety & motion as you can while maintaining some ground.

Vocal rhythm matters more than melody. Even rap has annunciation/phonetic melody.

Rapping flow rate usually sits between 1/8 & 1/16 bpm, or 1/16 & 1/32

All of the chords in a chord progression don’t need to be different. Try repeating previously used chords.

Repetition & accentuation/emphasization

changing a 2-note motif into a 3-note motif at the last note (Lizzo - Truth Hurts “Minnesota Vikings”)

Music is metaphorical. Metaphors make the mind think.

Your audience wants to belong with you, and you want to belong with your audience. Most of your ways are common to all.

Travis Scott - Skyfall: Just frame the song with vocals that would do it justice. Clear emotion & rhythmic variation is what matters most.

Songs are collages/symphonies of separate dynamics and aesthetics diverging & converging.

Bass/rhythm - Environment/ Leads - Subject

Label, or call, something by it’s adjectives. It’s not “weed”, it’s “that sticky sticky”

All of my songs are within “Ivy’s world”. I’m welcoming the audience to my reality.

Put the listener in a certain space.

Pick a topic/flow/melody/rhythm/harmony/etc. & stick with it, then elaborate again and again until satisfied with what has unfolded, then pick a new center of axis.

Tempo - The ground/song’s heartbeat

Art says what words are incapable of saying. To illustrate a point effectively, explain it in doodles, in a song, or in a sketch.

What sounds/noises/instruments rise & fall? Motors, The waves, Voices, Sirens, etc.

Common patterns in our world: Increase/decrease, back & forth, bouncing, swinging, rocking, tapping, etc.

Contrast draws attention: Dawn Golden - Still Life (last note differs from the repeated notes before)

There’s a lot of simple melodies that say what you want to say. You just have to find them. Clear minds can carve through the possibilities quicker.

Miniature motifs can be combined to create more complex motifs.

Ad-libs are like your “crew”. They’re the voices of the people hanging out with the character during the song.

The better a motif/part is, the more you want to present part of the motif, and tease the possibility of completing it.

You gotta be cocky in order to effectively write music.

The key to slipping on another persona is complete and utter External AND Internal) confidence.

Who are you portraying? Who are you speaking to?/Where/who are you vocals being projected to? Drake speaks to his bodyguard/whoever’s next to him most times.

Transitional baselines/chords/notes* (Basslines/chords/notes between the main basslines/chords/notes)

Songs are literally just as important as any audio file or soundbite. Perceived value is placed by our own hearts & minds.

“Give me something I can “_” to!”

[imamessofawriter]

The way you said "I Love You" 1/35

Summary: Tododeku drabbles based on the prompt series: The way you said “I Love You”

So, this series will be my first contribution to the BNHA / Tododeku fandom. Been meaning to write something but didn’t know what, and since I have this list of prompts I will use them for BNHA exclusively. This series will be a bunch of small one shot drabbles, always check the warnings to avoid spoilers or triggers. Leave Kudos/Likes and Follow/Subscribe and I would enjoy some constructive criticism.

Warnings: spoilers of chapter 95

FF.net | AO3

As a Hello

It was a long day at work and Todoroki Shouto hasn’t seen Midoriya Izuku in almost a week, especially since their schedules clash with each other this past month. Both were so busy that they barely text each other, let alone talk over the phone. He wonders why was it that working for different hero agencies sounded like a good idea back then, maybe because they wanted to share their stories once they got back home, maybe they didn’t want to get distracted while on the job even though they did make a good team.

Groaning in exhaustion, Todoroki made it up to the door of their shared apartment, it wasn’t luxurious or big and fancy, it didn’t scream ‘Heroes live here’, instead it was a small three-bedroom apartment (one was turned into a small office room), with one shared bathroom, a small kitchen and a small area that could pass as a living room, in an old neighborhood. They’ve been living together since they graduated from U.A, as Endeavor gave his ‘son’ an ultimatum, well it wasn’t much of one as it was either Todoroki worked for him or lived in the streets and without any money.

Thinking of how almost everyone and their grandmother knew that something was going on between the two rising heroes before Endeavor made him chuckle. For being the No. 1 hero, Endeavor sure didn’t notice the motives and reasons why he hangs out with All Might’s disciple. Shaking his head, Todoroki pulled out his key to unlock the door, only to find it unlocked, making him alert and a bit on edge, it was enough that he spent the entire night chasing a villain and having to work alongside Endeavor, now he had to deal with a possible intruder since Midoriya’s shift started an hour ago, and the green hero always locks the door behind him.

Slowly making his way inside without creating any sound, frost begins to form by his shoes, ready to freeze the intruder, “Izuku I’m home” he shouts. There was a crashing noise from the kitchen, perhaps a couple of broken plates which will have to be replaced. The half cold half hot hero runs towards the intruder only to be slammed against something, with a pair of arms enveloped around him, lips smashed against his.

He knows who they belong to, a warmness that he cherishes very much, one that he would sacrifice everything for. “Mhhh” he hums as they both crash down to the floor, his arms holding his attacker by the waist, “Izuku” he smiles as the other pulls away. Noticing tears brimming in the other’s eyes, “I Love you, Shoucchan” Midoriya cries as he buries his face in Shouto’s neck, leaving the dual quirked hero to run his hands through a mess of green hair.

“Hello to you too love” he chuckles as they both sit up straight, Midoriya no longer crying, “I thought you had work today? Did something happen?”

“well I got the day off” Midoriya answers sheepishly as his eyes dart everywhere but Shouto, allowing the fire ‘n Ice hero to notice the bandages and bruises on Izuku’s body. “Izuku” he asks in a firm and final voice making Midoriya jump.

“long story short, I ran into a villain yesterday and he gave us a bit trouble, his quirk was creating holograms and while I was chasing him he lead me to an alley and created one of you slumped on the floor dead and for a second I thought it was real because I didn’t know if you came home the night before so I panicked and ran towards the projection thinking it was you and he used that to attack me turns out a few of his friends were waiting so it was totally an ambush and I fell into their traps but it’s all okay because he was an idiot and missed one detail so it wasn’t like I was completely fooled but I used that opportunity and faked being fooled and took them all out but there were maybe ten of them and I wasn’t at the top shape so I got hit a few times but now it’s all right I went to the hospital and got patched up and told that I can take the day off since I looked like I need it and the most important thing is that I love you”

Todoroki looked at Midoriya with his trademark deadpan expression, “okay I barely understood anything since you were muttering very fast but in any case, I love you too, and glad you were okay”

“so how was your day?” Izuku sighed in relief as his boyfriend did look that worried but he was glad about the concern though.

“well for starters this villain gave us a wild goose chase and I had to work with Endeavor all night, so that sums up how shitty my night was” Shouto explained as he took Izuku’s hand and lead him to the couch of their living room. Knowing that no matter how crappy his day was, he was glad that he has a home to return to, one filled with warmth and love. Maybe they don’t live in a big apartment and they don’t have that much money since they are still young, but there is nothing in the world that they would trade for that can replace the feeling of security as they laid on the couch in each other’s arms.

Next Chapters: [2]

[todaynewsstories]

Greece hopes for better times as it exits EU bailout program | In Depth | DW

It’s been a peculiar summer, says Polyxeni Koutsantoni, the owner of a beach bar in Marathon, on Greece’s east coast. “In June we had heavy rains, at the end of July our coastal region was plagued by devastating wildfires, and nonetheless I have the impression that there are more holidaymakers around and that they’re even spending a bit more money,” she tells DW. The change is not a dramatic one, of course, and the carefree holiday atmosphere of before the debt crisis still hasn’t returned. “But you do notice that people have been feeling a bit more relaxed of late,” she says.

The energetic Koutsantoni and her husband have run the beach bar for 25 years. Most of their customers are Greek, but lately a lot of Russian and French tourists have been coming to Marathon as well. When things get hectic, her three daughters have to help out. There’s no question of employing extra staff. “You’ve got to keep costs down, especially in times of crisis,” she warns, and laughs: “Reduce costs and be patient — that’s my motto.”

Polyxeni Koutsantoni says tourism is picking up along Greece’s east coast

It’s a motto that could just as well apply to the whole of Greece. The country exits the eurozone bailout plan on Monday. Politicians in Athens and Brussels have all declared the debt crisis over. But this small business owner doesn’t believe her country’s economic problems have really been solved. The best example is tourism, which is also regarded as the most important pillar of the Greek economy. The sector provides a quarter of the country’s income, and that figure is increasing. Taxes and other duties are high, though: “VAT on services alone is 24 percent. No one can stick that long-term,” Koutsantoni complains.

Read more: A timeline of Greece’s long road to recovery 

The Greek debt crisis: A brief history

Greek crisis takes form

On the heels of a global financial crisis, Greece’s then-prime minister, George Papandreou, revealed in 2009 that the budget deficit was over 12 percent, double what it was previously thought. It was later revised to 15 percent, far exceeding the eurozone’s 3-percent limit. The revelation prompted credit rating agencies to downgrade Greece’s status, making it hard for Athens to get financial help.

The Greek debt crisis: A brief history

Austerity sparks unrest

In a bid to help Athens out, the EU and IMF agreed to bailout Greece in 2010. The program required austerity measures to cut the budget deficit, a move that didn’t sit well with many Greeks. In response, anti-austerity protesters organized nationwide strikes and demonstrations to protest the measures and, at times, clashed with police. Mass protests took off in 2011 and continued for years.

The Greek debt crisis: A brief history

Rise of the fringe

Resentful of growing unemployment and poverty, a majority of Greeks in 2012 voted for fringe parties that opposed the bailout and the austerity measures that came with it. The first election resulted in no clear winner and set the stage for another vote. After the second election, the center-right New Democracy was tasked with forming a new government. The party was committed to the bailout.

The Greek debt crisis: A brief history

Crash course

In 2015, Greeks handed the left-wing Syriza party an anti-austerity mandate in snap elections, putting Athens on a crash course with Brussels. In June, Prime Minister Alexis Tsipras controversially announced a referendum on EU bailout terms. On June 30, Greece became the first developed economy in the world to default on an IMF bailout. Athens imposed capital controls to stop capital flight.

The Greek debt crisis: A brief history

Turning point

The bailout referendum resulted in a rejection of EU terms, with 61 percent voting against a new rescue program. But that didn’t stop Tsipris’ government from agreeing to new terms with Brussels after Greece’s then-Finance Minister Yanis Varoufakis stepped down. It allowed Greece to avert an exit from the eurozone and paved the way for a new bailout program amounting to €86 million ($98 million).

The Greek debt crisis: A brief history

Road to recovery

As part of the 2015 bailout program, Greece adopted economic reforms, including cutting public spending and privatizing state assets. Two years later, the IMF urged Brussels to ease its bailout program terms and provide extensive debt relief, describing Greece’s debt as unsustainable. In order to help Greece meets its bailout terms, Tsipras agreed to extend tax and pension reforms.

The Greek debt crisis: A brief history

End of an era?

In August 2018, Greece officially exited its bailout program, with EU officials calling it the “beginning of a new chapter.” EU Commissioner Pierre Moscovici said Greeks “may not feel that their situation has yet improved much,” but the EU would continue “to work with you and for you.” However, with high unemployment and rampant poverty, some observers have cast doubt on the bailout’s success.

Author: Lewis Sanders IV

Pensions slashed

Greek pensioners have had to cope with particularly harsh cuts. People like Mary Tsoni, a retired dentist from Athens, worked for 35 years; she had her own practice, and also worked for what was the country’s biggest health insurer. She had made provision for a monthly pension of more than €1,000 ($1,100), but since the start of the debt crisis that’s been cut in half.

There may be more cuts from 2019 onwards, and on top of this the annual tax-free allowance has been reduced. Nonetheless, Mary Tsoni doesn’t want to grumble. “I’m lucky, after all, because both my children are working and are able to feed their families,” she tells DW. In these difficult times, that’s not a given. Other pensioners are having to use their meager income to support their unemployed children or grandchildren financially.

Retiree Mary Tsoni: “I want everything to get better”

They can only hope that Greece will put in place organized and affordable social services in future, the 80-year-old says. According to Tsoni, many individuals and NGOs did help out people in need in times of crisis — but social policy isn’t a question of charity. The state must take responsibility, she says.

Tsoni has no idea what’s in store for the country once the rescue package comes to an end. She’s a fundamentally optimistic person, though: “It can only get better,” she says. “And I want it to get better, too. Not for myself — I’ve lived my life — but for the young people who have to fulfill their obligations, and bring up children, who will also retire one day.”

Read more: Is the Greek economy strong enough without the bailout?

Glass half full or half empty?

Anyone keen to be optimistic about Greece’s future does have good reason to be so. For the first time since the start of the debt crisis, there was a clear upturn in the economy in 2017. Even higher growth — 2 percent — is predicted for 2018. Exports rose by 13 percent in the first quarter of this year.

For many years now, the government budget has shown what’s known as a primary surplus. This means that the state treasury’s revenue has been higher than its expenditure — though this doesn’t include interest payments to the international lenders. The Greek finance minister, Euclid Tsakalotos, promises an even higher surplus of up to 5.2 percent by 2022 and beyond. That was the prerequisite for the debt relief that was arranged for Greece in June.

The other side of the coin is that debt relief goes hand-in-hand with fresh rounds of cost-cutting. And despite all the reform measures put in place since 2010, Greece’s debt is still 180 percent of its economic output — an even higher debt ratio than before the crisis. No grounds for optimism after all, then?

Panagiotis Petrakis, an economics professor at the University of Athens, explains the apparently contradictory economic data. “Growth rates and primary surpluses are the proof that the Greek economy is returning to normal. Tourism and the construction industry are benefiting from this. But our economic model hasn’t changed.” And if it doesn’t, he says, debt will once again be an issue, at the latest in 15 or 20 years’ time.

But Polyxeni Koutsantoni sees opportunities for Greece, at least as far as tourism is concerned. “Greece isn’t all just beach holidays,” she says. “It has much more to offer, everything from the many winter sports centers to religious tourism.”

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