#back when I had a huge cd playing boombox

[omegaplus]

# 4,330

PERSONAL CASSETTE DUB ARCHIVE.

Erasing my dad’s Saturday Night Fever cassette on a now extremely-rare Conion V-121F was the very first tape memory I had. I didn’t know better. I don’t know where my dad got the Conion or why, but I remember it sitting on our dining room table. It had to be a Saturday or Sunday evening during summer recess where my dad invited his friends over to show off the family fire truck: a 1949 American LaFrance. That Conion would stay with us for a long time. The moment I hit that record button was the one my life-long relationship with cassettes and recorded media began. As an Eighties kid, I spent more time downstairs playing Atari, Nintendo, and watching WWF on weekend afternoons more than anything. Down there, I discovered another smaller, cheaper radio with a blank tape inside of it. It was one of those radios where it’d record off the FM while also recording natural sound via its built-in mic- at the same time.

The Christmas after starting middle-school, ma’ got me my own small red boombox from a petty electronics corner-store she worked at and three cassette tapes not worth mentioning. That boombox’s playback speed ran a little too fast and I knew something didn’t feel right. So she exchanged it for one that worked properly: a Sony CFS-213. Much better. I also received four matching Sony HF90 blanks and found whatever strays lying around in the house. It was that exact point in time I started getting into archiving and recording. My first-ever keeps didn’t happen until the following Summer when I moved on from Z100 to WBLS, a hip-hop / rap station found at the end of the dial. I caught that frequency when they had T-Money, Ed Lover, Dr. Dre, and King Saul on their line-up. The CFS would begin a years-long habit of creating a music diary of sorts; a timeline of who my friends were, where I was, and when - all written by the record button and onto tape.

I was young and immature once. I found every piece of low-brow humor funny and everything fascinated me. I was huge into In Living Color, Howard Stern and The Diceman. Guilty as charged. So I asked ma’ if she had some Walkmans. She’d given me a couple out-of-closet, and one happened to have a built-in mic-. The only way I could record favorite one-liners from cartoons, comedies, one-time only interviews, and late-night specials was to place it near the TV speaker, press ‘record’, and let it run. For years that was the only way I could capture NES and Genesis game soundtracks. Back then there wasn’t as much permanence as we have now. I felt every day was now or never. Occasionally the CFS would have a bad day and decide to eat one of my tapes. One-of-a-kind moments were just that, and they hung in the balance. Some tapes crinkled, and some even snapped. It was analog media, so I knew nothing was beyond repair. All I needed was a few inches of Scotch Tape to re-join the snapped ends and a boxcutter to trim it to width and I was back in business.

The CFS eventually went and ended its two-year run. Both ma’ and my dad upgraded my Sony to a CDF-50 for Christmas after middle school. With that came a ten-pack of Recoton XR90’s and Ice Cube’s The Predator, my first CD. Now I had another source to dub from and I could make better mixtapes out of them. Ma’ had a few more Walkmans lying around in the house which would play a memorable part of my life. Gramma’ was ailing with kidney failure, so every week ma’ and I drove out to visit her in Bensonhurst which was off Bay Parkway’s Exit 5. I couldn’t stand ma’s music, which was why I packed a tote with her Walkmans and already-made Recotons to stay occupied during those long hot Summer drives with an Arizona and a bag of cheddar-pretzel Combos by my side. Rides out to Staten Island became a thing when my uncle fully recovered from a terribly nasty drug addiction, allowing my family to become closer with him, my aunt, and their four hoodlum kids. Even better, my my bro- and I sat in the backseat as ma’ and dad drove to Harrah’s in Atlantic City, and once took the Orient Point ferry to Foxwoods up in Mashantucket. We were left behind at the video arcade while ma’ and dad gambled their salaries and disability checks away. Those Walkmans and Recotons were there with me the entire time.

I was still very much into hip-hop / rap, way before we now call it The Golden Era. WBLS had a format change so I switched to Hot 97 and their competitor Kiss FM. The boombox as we knew it was symbolic of hip-hop culture and made millions of us. From then until the end of the Brentwood era I would still compile that history. My friends usually failed me, but my Sony didn’t; always there faithfully waiting for me to come home. Every day, every night, every weekend when I struck out with plans I’d sit home to hit that record button once again. When my stock of Recotons finally ran out, I’d bike to the music store in the mall to purchase four- or five-packs of TDK D Series and Maxell UR tapes. Those two brands were a godsend to me as they continued to solidify my identity for years to come. Everything - the Walkmans and tapes - came with me to countless bus rides to-and-from Brentwood when my wrestling and volleyball teams traveled to rival schools, or even sitting in the rafters during all-day tournaments. Even I shared the wealth with my friends to borrow my tapes for the ride when they had nothing to listen to. I’m forever thanksful that they never pocketed them on me, not even once.

It wasn’t long until gramma’ died of kidney failure. It would be our very last ride to Bensonhurst my ma’ and I would take. Both of us had one final shot to take as much of gramma’ and poppy’s possessions with us. They didn’t have much of a music collection, if any at all. Pop- only had a small cache of old cassettes he kept over the decades - opaque amber shells with white labels and gold print. I took them all along with a few of his old gambling books and a pair of heavy binoculars. I got home and curiously listened to what were on his tapes, sacrificing them only if I happened to run out of blanks to record. The rest would stay untouched for years. Meanwhile, ma’ took gramma’s Lafayette LR-810 receiver. Lafayettes were common on the island as they originated there. She already had one tied up with the living room CD player, so she gave me it. Now we had two of them back home.

**********

The CDF only lasted through three-and-a-half years of high-school before I trashed it after senior year. I inherited one of dad’s Akais, this time a full tape deck rescued from the basement. He loved Akais. We had another receiver of theirs and an eight-track player he built into the kitchen wall connected with in-ceiling speakers (!). They were never used and we never owned one single eight-track at the old Brentwood home. Go figure. That Akai cassette deck was a literal octopus sound system for me. My Lafayette, (either) a Super Nintendo or a Playstation, and two pairs of speakers - one disconnected from the Conion - were all tied to it. It connected what my Panasonic system couldn’t but that was still reserved for radio dubs only. At this point, I shifted from radio hip-hop and bounced back and forth between Q104.3, K-Rock, and back to Z100. Again, the record button ran from end to end, letting the chips fall as they may. The tapes kept on accumulating and never gave up their mission as being reference points of my life.

Every now and then there’s a new piece of antiquity to be found in the basement. I don’t know where my ma’ and dad finds them or why they magically materialize. This time it was a small turntable and it opened up a new world for me to preserve. I started buying vinyl records through mail-order catalogues, public libraries, and even hardcore shows. The brunt of my 7” library came from Centereach’s None Of The Above, Long Island’s hardcore and punk haven. The basement turntable couldn’t play for its life, so for my birthday, my best friend gave me his father’s 1972 Panasonic and a limited-edition Autechre 12”. I was at first nervous about vinyl’s fragility and adversion to physical damage. That Panasonic connected to and played through my Akai which recorded my most essential 12” records and were used for playback until I got used to handling my records on a regular basis.

When the final Akai broke, I replaced it with something else. I don’t remember the manufacturer. Was it Sony, Aiwa, or Philips? Chances are it was a black Aiwa, another Christmas present. That was my first micro-system featuring an FM/AM radio, a three-CD changer, a five-band equalizer, and dual tape decks - a first for me. That meant I could fill up my remaining blanks (save one) with dubs, take my favorite songs, and consolidate them to one. It also had removable speakers which replaced the Conion’s when they finally went. Aiwa’s dual tape decks would play an all-important role in my life that would change the way I did things forever.

I was over Manzana’s house one Friday night. She was an Italian-Jewish girl I saw briefly in high-school. My best friend was now dating her and she had her other friends over. We were all joking around and acting like immature fools throwing couch cushions at each other. Right then and there in my mind I came up with the idea of ‘seasonal’ mixtapes. I already had a generous collection of tapes and numerous purchases of CD’s in my possession. Why not make a compilation to remind me of everything that happened in a calender season based on songs I found during that time? So I took everything I listened to from March, April, and May and put them all together on one Maxell UR120 using the Aiwa dual-tape deck. A new concept was born: the seasonal personal mixtape! I can write and keep a new personal diary every three months without using pen, paper, or words - only sounds! It’s a quarterly ritual which I’d made sure of myself to do religiously because it fit perfectly with my perception of time and would forever be the basis for my projects.

By then I was on a roll. I not only made mixtapes for my own personal satisfaction but for friends in good standing as well. I gave my friend The Greek Tragedy 120 minutes of Henry Rollins’ spoken work because he asked and I had them. On the other hand, I had plenty of friends who gave me theirs as well. I still have most of them. Those gifts were a great way of seeing what my friends were made of. I had two fellow writers from the Suffolk Compass who tossed me a couple themselves. One, a true Boston punk who turned me on to R.L. Burnside, Crass, AxCx, and Rudimentary Peni. Another writer was part of a local synthpop band who felt his (and only his) favorite artists were better than everyone else’s, so he gave me a synthpop mixtape of Yaz, Erasure, New Order, and more. I gave him credit for sticking with a genre of music that many people at that time deemed tacky.

Perhaps the most special and sentimental mix-cassettes I ever received from anyone was from a Polish girl from Ocean City whom I found online, before Facebook and Myspace even existed. We clicked almost instantly and progressed to where months later she’d send me a package of three mixtapes and some poems she written for me. Her purple tapes came in white slide-out cases which she scrawled personal messages on with black marker. It was a sweet, personal touch from a girl who was caring, charming, out-going, and was interested in meeting me…or so I thought.

She canceled our plans at the last moment. No reason given. It was only a matter of time before she bought herself a few moments before ghosting me. The hits kept on coming as I abandoned my job and my synthpop ‘friend’ who hired me from the pool supply store, all by the end of that June. My summer was all almost over before it started and I had nothing going on except for a Playstation, my bike and stereo system. I had no choice but to stay home and wait it out until community college started next Autumn.

All hope was lost at that point, but the turn of the millennium would give me an Ace card in the best way possible. By then I gave up all commercial radio and drew towards Stony Brook University’s station WUSB where they played everything the corporate or Top 40 stations wouldn’t. My recording game was constant and I did it every night for a few hours just to try and take the focus off of my latest losses. It was more than enough that I caught one of their resident hip-hop dee-jays play Lonnie Liston Smith (& The Cosmic Echoes) “Expansions” followed by a sampling set on their ones-and-twos. It was so out-of-this-world and not of this time. That’s when I started reaching back and re-connected with myself, and to think that the cassette would create another addiction for me for years to come: sample-searching. As if my life would change once already, there would be a second time before my stint at community-college era was finally over.

Our sober uncle gifted my family a new desktop computer for Christmas. That was a total surprise to me. But why did we get one? Because my dad wanted free music. Napster exploded into a worldwide phenomenom. My ma’ and dad spent countless nights for hours on end grabbing country, hippie rock, and the golden oldies left and right. So did I, staying up until 4AM in the morning finding every B-side, rarity, compilation, Japan-only and unreleased tracks from my favorite artists I could think of. Did I abandon my tapes for downloading? No way. I was still making radio dubs all night and every night without fail during my downloading free-for-all. Again: industrial, underground hip-hop, pop-punk, indie…and what they called “electronica” at the time. Sure.

**********

I never gave up on dubbing and cassettes. It continued on during my time off from study, my relationship with Yenny, three jobs, and into Stony Brook. What first started as a listener of WUSB now continued on as a selector and then program-director. I still have my old demos- and auditions on Maxell UR120’s from when I first joined, forever capturing a few cold Winter and nicer Spring days inside a dilapidated studio which was built in their AM days (the Sixties) and had never been renovated before being torn down for good. I was still doing double-duty downloading and dubbing, even after a former music-director who worked for Apple offered me to purchase my very first iPod Classic (30GB) which now took over my Walkman as the preferred player for all future night drives and train rides to New York City. That still wasn’t enough to replace my cassettes, and why would it? I still needed something to record and I still wasn’t over spending lots of time making them.

Eventually, all things had come to an end. Literally. I had enough of being stuck behind the register with no one to back me up, because those same people abandoned their post. So out of nowhere I decided to burn my bridges and walk out of my job. I didn’t wake up one morning to plan on having it happen but it did. I felt the entire weight on my shoulders collapse immediately, enough for me to break down. I stressed like no tomorrow to salvage whatever bank account I had left to avoid moving to The Carolinas. I was bustling and jumping from one job to another until I found something that was only enough for me to survive. I had no idea what I was getting into and turned out to be the worst mistake of my life. The toxic co-workers, asshole managers, and older down-on-their-luck has-beens who apexed in high-school were enough to wear me down even further. By then I became a former shell of myself. I had almost nothing that I once did that used to keep me alive. No radio show, no computer, no blogging…nothing. I was too busy learning to survive and stay mouth above water. Recording and archiving were the last things on my mind. But, I still had my Aiwa micro-system.

Those tapes my poppy had? I finally got around to hear them all. Literal relics from a long-gone classic and golden era that no longer exists. I never knew his music tastes up until that point: Barbara Streisand, Sammy Davis Jr., Neil Sadaka, Tom Jones, Wayne Newton. Late Sixties classics and early Seventies American standards - things I’d never be caught dead or alive listening to. His tapes had a mucky, distorted quality to them. They were in a severe state of tape rot and natural degradation imperative to being case-less and exposed to the elements for decades. Then I found a few more random discoveries from his small stash. There’s a thirty-second recording of him reciting Torah verses; the only artifact that will keep his voice alive for decades. And another tape…I can’t explain it, nor there’s any information about it, either. I called it the “rape tape”: vintage recordings and radio pornography of men fucking women and using explicit triple X-rated language. I don’t know when those recordings were made, where he got it from, when in his life he acquired it, or why he even had them. An unusual and peculiar swerve if I had to think of one.

By the Summer of ‘08, I dubbed the final radio session on tape, again a Maxell UR120. WCBS-FM just enlisted Joe Causi to replace Cousin Brucie for the legendary Saturday night slot (Brucie went to satellite radio), playing gold and platinum-selling hits of the Seventies. I still had a kick for the radio hits of that decade. Anne Murray’s “You Needed Me”, Alan O’Day’s “Undercover Angel”, and Minnie Riperton’s “Loving You” became three of the songs on that final radio recording I’d ever make.

I still made one more physical seasonal mixtape before the decade was done. I visited Amityville’s High Fidelity for the first time and purchased my usual Seventies jazz, fusion, and pop vinyl records. Roberta Flack, John Tropea, Les McCann, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Karla Bonoff, Marvin Gaye, Parliament, Phil Upchurch; it goes on. I also bought some best-of compilations from the Mercury label. Like everything else, I piece-mealed it all together. With that, Autumn ‘09 became my final physical mixtape I’d ever make.

And that was it. The end of an era for me. It was the very last time I ever hit record.

There was no real reason for me to stop other than it being too cumbersome and time-consuming. I didn’t miss it, either. Graduating university meant the end of an almost two-decade hobby. Final count? At least 400+ tapes recorded from the beginning of the Brentwood era all the way to the end of Stony Brook. I saved enough money and two months later I eventually bought a Gateway NV laptop to return to downloading and burning discs - as my entire personal cassette archive sat to suffer in draws and shelves for another number of years.

***********

I decided it be fun to revisit the Nineties and the Oughts, one tape at a time.

Last year I wanted to do something about the cassette archive. I thought of digitizing it all. I knew it would be a huge undertaking and time-consuming. I didn’t do it during the nine months of in-home recovery from shoulder surgery, and I didn’t do it during the two months I was ordered to stay home on furlough during the pandemic. Why? Because I had other ongoing projects on the steady. But I finally had the chance to at least chop away at the hundreds of tapes I have stacked.

They say cassette media lasts for thirty years, give or take the thickness of the tape, the type of metal used, how often they’ve been played and how they’re stored properly. Even though my archive was still in great condition and I could put it off for another few years, I wanted to do it now than never. Either digitize and duplicate my memories and timeline into one huge time machine or have them disappear forever. No second chances.

My first attempt at digitizing the library was connecting a Jensen Walkman to my computer. Pop the tape in, hit record on the app-, and let it run its course. I played them back as soon as the recordings were completely converted to MP3 but noticed that the Jensen raised the pitch by 5%. No dice. So I went to the thrift store in Centereach and found a Yamaha KX-400U tape deck for $35.00 that perfectly matched the $85.00 Yamaha A-1000 stereo amplifier I got at High Fidelity during the pandemic summer. I wired the KX- to my desktop with a Roxio VHS-to DVD converter, set up Audacity to record, and hit play.

It all came back to me. One tape at a time.

Cassettes in bubble packaging hanging off the pharmacy’s peghooks. Limited-edition shells my bro- and I got from Happy Meals that I erased over. Anticipating that one song on the radio that’s about to play. Vinardo’s after school for Street Fighter. Chasing the blue-eyed blonde-haired Irish girl at the Eighth-grade picnic. A dance tape my sis- had that I recorded Kiss FM on. Abandoned tapes thrown out of passenger-side windows, encrusted in dirt and found on dirty sidewalks. Spending Thanksgiving weekend at home sick. Winter days and nights with a Super Nintendo. That Spanish girl with the glasses who wanted me to take her home from my friend’s backyard party. Early morning bike-rides to Brentwood. Sagat’s “Funk Dat” and Tucka Da’ Hunterman in the back of the bus. Reggie across the street dubbing me The Notorious B.I.G.’s and Wu-Tang Clan’s debut albums. My Rasta- friend attempting to run me over and apologized to me by giving me M. Doc & Stevio’s and Eazy-E as a peace offering. That D90 I left at my cousin Dorona’s house which she recorded her R&B favorites over my hip-hop. Cute girls from rival volleyball teams approaching me to sweeten the deal. My first time meeting Jewish girls in Plainview. Diamond and I sitting on the curb. Donna and I at Adventureland. Her friend Julie who erased over the Nine Inch Nails’ Broken and Fixed mixtape I made for her. Christmas with my cousin Dorona and the rest of the Staten Island family. My alternative circle of friends walking the snowy neighborhood streets at one in the morning. My brother and his hood friends from high-school recording themselves and acting like the animals that they were. Compilations from friends taped over with surviving track-listings. Endless downloading sessions. Making my dad a Shirelles mix. Indie hits playing while driving home through miserable snowstorms. J-Ro’s Antique Road Show while coding. The over-nighter I pulled creating blog-sites for cinema class. Cath- and I on our first date sitting across each other over Thursday dinner. Found answering messages from my Hampton uncle’s 50 year-old junkie girlfriend. Hopeless Summer days wondering in an era wondering where I would go in my life. Hand-made art and tracklists scribbled in blue pen on the back of J-cards. Every pop, fade out, snap, abrupt cut, distortion, XDR tone-burst, and Dolby calibration tone. It’s there. All of it, there.

It wasn’t as exhausting as I thought it’d be. I manage to digitize about 75 tapes for every two weeks off. They go by quick. They’re all saved in 128 KBPS MP3 quality and files are named after the brand and type of tape with any discerning aesthetic qualities on them. Then the auditing process. That was the hardest part. Keeping track of each and every tape that has and has yet been once-overed, and playing them again just to be sure nothing has been overlooked.

At the time of posting, 100% of my personal tape archive has now been digitized. I’ve taken care of my entire library to know they’ll survive at least another ten to twenty years more before noticeable fading of quality. Further backup and duplication means a good portion of my life will be salvaged way after I’ve said good-bye for all eternity. When that happens, my nephews will get it all. They can only imagine how I experienced the golden-era, the Nineties, and independent radio. They were born into the digital age and though physical media is still very much alive, the industry has and will push streaming and convenience over everything else. They won’t really grasp what it was like to salvage things themselves, to properly insert physical objects or press play. They won’t know what it’s like to slide a tape into a 25-pound boombox and hit the play button as they’re working on their car. They won’t experience coming over to a friend’s house to see Redman, Juliana Hatfield, The Cure, Stone Temple Pilots, and cracked Matthew Sweet tapes scattered all around someone’s disorganized bedroom as they’re playing video games through Summer nights, or to even discover a box of their mom’s old tapes somewhere hidden in a basement. She has no such thing. Sure, the vinyl resurgence is still taking place, but will it and physical media matter to them in the next twenty-five to thirty years? Highly unlikely as they face a world of here-today gone-tomorrow TV shows, movies, and hottest pop playlists at the mercy of steaming content providers and contractual obligations.

There’s still lots of work to be done. The CD- and DVD-R archive is the next massive undertaking followed by digitizing my entire VHS dub library, the largest-than-life behemoth of them all. That’s another battle for another year.

#personal #Long Island #New York City #cassettes #tapes #omega #music #mixtapes #reviews #playlists

[videostak]

UGH i bought this really nice boombox at the thrift today and like tested it there for like 10 mins to try to make sure it didnt skip and it didnt but then when i took it back home it starts skipping a bunch its exactly like this other one i used to have where it plays perfectly normal then all of a sudden like restarts an entire track or just randomly skips to a random part of the track or straight to the end etc but happens so randomly that it really is annoying ! actually most cd players ive had that are busted are like that and im p sure its something to do w/ the laser... i thought i was past the time of buying busted junk and kinda sucks that it was 30$ of my holiday money :( and they dont take refunds or anything...well it seems to play cassttes fine presumably but im def gonna take it back whenever i drop off some more stuff there. not a huge blow since i made sure to get it when it was half off but still a bit of a bummer since it wouldvve been cool if it worked. oh well :P

[like-a-bag-of-potatoes]

Then and Now - Dear Diary

AN: It's been a while since I’ve written Supernatural, or Dean, but I'm back now with a new Series. Gonna be 10 parts in total with a lot of feels and fluffs. I've been toying with this idea since I started re-watching spn earlier this year (thank you quarantine) and then after reading a series by the amazing @percywinchester27​ I got inspired and started writing. Shout out to my awesome beta @thorne93​, you da bees knees. 

AN2: I'm doing a thing where I raffle off a personalised drabble every month. How do you join? Easy, just hammer that reblog button. Reblog is one entry, reblog with comment is two entries. So you help spread my work and you might get a little sumpthin’ in return. Win Win

Pairing: AUDean x Reader

Warnings: Some grade A second hand embarrassment (it gets a bit awkward, yo!) There's some talk about sex in this. Italics are entries from her diary. 

Wordcount: 2070

CATCH UP HERE

Summary: It's 2010 and you’re back in Lawrence to settle your family’s affairs after your mom passed. You hope to be in and out of town before anyone really knows you’re there, but that doesn't go as plan. Will a certain green eyed mechanic convince you to come back to the life you once had in Lawrence? Or are you going to return to the real world as soon everything is settled. 

Three weeks had passed since that night by the lake, and the farm was back in pristine condition. You had worked tirelessly, day in and day out, with some help from your friends of course. It had been so great to reconnect with them all. Honestly, you were the happiest that you had been in a while. There still was a dull ache in your heart though, one that seemed to strengthen every time you were with Dean. It was hard to be around him, to be his friend when you knew that was all it was ever going to be. And now that there was nothing left to keep your days occupied, that old restless feeling had settled in your bones again. 

This life wasn't meant for you. Not on this farm. Not Dean. Not even your friends. It was an unachievable dream, just out of reach, and it was slowly driving you insane. Hope had ignited in you that night by the lake, maybe, just maybe there was a chance for you and Dean, but nothing had happened since then to tell you that that was the case. So now you were convinced you had put more meaning in his words than was really there. 

Some days you would stop by the pet shop and say hi to Red, which now was something you looked forward to. Donna told you that he had been a lot happier since you started visiting him, and at times he was a real chatterbox now. You would let him on your shoulder and walk around the store while you talked softly to him, treating him some sunflower seeds here and there. Red greeted you with a high pitched hello every time you walked through the doors, and when you left, he would reach his little foot out as if he was trying to stop you from leaving. At times you wondered if he would make a good travel companion. If he could come with you in your truck as you drove around the country, but those thoughts were quickly pushed aside. 

It was another beautiful Saturday morning, music was blasting from your old boombox as you cleared out your closet. It was an old mixed CD that Dean had given you way back when, filled with Metallica, Zeppelin, Skynyrd, and everything else Dean listened to. REO Speedwagon played in the background as you found the stacks of old diaries in the far right corner, hidden under some other junk. A smile played on your lips as you pulled them out, five of them in total, all with different covers around them. 

“This is bound to be awkward,” you mumbled to yourself as you picked them all up and carried them with you down stairs. 

After filling your cup with coffee, you brought it all with you to the front porch to start what would most definitely be an embarrassing trip down memory lane. 

June 1st 1995

Dear diary. 

I had a huge fight with Jo today. We were gonna hang out after my guitar lesson and she just kept houding me to play… IN FRONT OF EVERYONE. I asked her nicely to back off, but she wouldn't leave it alone. Then she said I was just scared of embarrassing myself in front of Dean and I was sooooooo mad at her. Like… I swore her to secrecy when I told her about my crush on him and now… God… I don't think I can ever face him again. 

She's such a BITCH sometimes. 

The word ‘bitch’ was spelled out in big red letters, and you couldn't help but chuckle at your fifteen year old self. Gone were the days when your troubles were this innocent. 

There was no entry for a couple of days, just some doodles of Dean's name over and  over again. 

June 5th 1995

So I made up with Jo. She apologized which I know is, like, super hard for her to do, so we’re good again. She told me Dean has been acting really strange the last few days. Been all quiet and stuff. She said that Benny told her that Cas had told him that Dean asked Cas if he thought I had a crush on him. 

Jo thinks Dean has a crush on me too, but I don't think so. The last girlfriend he had was Lisa Braeden and she's so beautiful. No way I can compete with that. I just need to get over these stupid feelings so things can go back to normal. 

You skimmed through a few more entries, stuff about tests at school and plans for the summer holiday, then some thoughts and ideas for your birthday. It was all very tame. 

But then… 

June 14th 1995

HE KISSED ME!!!! I can't believe Dean actually kissed me… and on my birthday. It was so perfect, and his lips were so soft. It was better than I could ever have imagined. I'm so happy right now I could just scream. He asked me if I would go with him to the lake tomorrow and I literally can't wait. I can't even stop smiling. 

It was the perfect first kiss with the perfect guy. 

Then there was a drawn heart with Dean’s name in it. Without realizing it, your fingers ghosted over your lips as you recalled the kiss. It was a bit frustrating that you hadn't written it down in more detail, but the butterflies that coursed through you told you that you remembered it just fine. 

Time didn't really register as you sat and flipped through the pages of your diaries, so when Dean pulled up, you didn't know how long you had sat there. The coffee had long been forgotten and was now too cold to drink. 

“What's all this?” Dean asked as he plumped down in the empty chair. 

“My old diaries,” you said with a smile. “I found them earlier in my closet. It's so awkward, but I just can't stop reading,” you explained with a chuckle. It was hard to ignore the uproar of butterflies in your stomach at the sight of Dean, but you did your best to push it aside. 

“Lay it on me,” he gently ordered with that cheeky grin of his. 

“You want me to read you my diary?” You asked in bewilderment. 

“Yes!” he exclaimed, laughing. 

“Brace yourself for some grade A second hand embarrassment, Winchester,” you warned and he made a point of getting comfortable in his seat. You opened the book on a random page and started reading. “June 21, 1995. It's been a week since Dean and I kissed for the first time, and I still can't believe he asked me to be his girlfriend. Like, for real-” Dean chuckled and you chanced a look up at him, but he urged you to continue. “I mean, I have never been anyone's girlfriend before so I'm not really good at it I think. Like, can I just hold his hand whenever I want now? Or kiss him? ‘Cuz I want to do that all the time. I just don't want him to feel like I'm too clingy or something like that.” Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

Dean just chuckled. “Why didn't you tell me?” 

“About my insecurities?-” he nodded -”I didn't want you to think I was a dweeb,” you said as if it was the most obvious thing. 

“That ship sailed long before that,” he said, erupting into laughter when you stuck your tongue out at him. “If it makes you feel any better, I wanted to hold your hand and kiss you all the time too,” he said in an exaggerated sweet tone. 

“Ha! Wish I knew that back then,” you mused. 

“Go on,” he said eagerly, pointing to the book in your hand. 

With a deep sigh, you opened to another random page. “August 7th, 1995. Dean took me to the lake today to watch the sunset. It was beautiful. We talked about ‘doing it’.” As you read the words out loud you giggled and hid your face behind the book. “Oh my god, Dean… It's so awful,” you whined behind the book. 

Dean found your embarrassment adorable, especially the smile that followed it, and the laughter. Your nose always scrunched up when you were embarrassed and it was nice to see that hadn't changed. “Go on,” he urged. “I wanna know if we ‘did it’.” Although he knew perfectly well that you didn't, not that night. 

“Really?” you asked, peeking up over the book. 

“Hell yeah. I'm invested in this now, don't leave me hanging.” 

“I told Dean I was scared because I hadn't done it before. He said he hadn't either. I was so sure he had done it with Lisa, but apparently that was just a rumor. I want to do it with him, though. I can't think of a better person to lose my ‘V’ card to. He said he would wait for as long as I wanted.” Even as awful as this was, it was very sweet in its innocence. 

“I remember that night,” he said, smiling. It wasn't that cheeky grin from a couple of seconds ago, though, it was the smile one had when recalling a fond memory. “It was a really great night.” 

“It was,” you agreed. It was nice to share this with him, even though it was embarrassing, it was a story that the two of you shared, and it was nice to have this reminder of how good things once were for you. You flipped the pages once more, now looking for a specific entry. “August 12th 1995. Dean and I finally did it. It was at the lake in the bed of my truck, but it was as perfect as could be. He was so gentle with me, and patient. It hurt a lot at first, but Dean went really slow and it got better. There was a little blood afterwards and I was super embarrassed, but he didn't care. I’m so glad Dean was my first, because I don't think anyone else would make me feel so safe. Dean always makes me feel safe.” The words trailed off and you looked up at Dean, the air suddenly thick around you. 

He cleared his throat before he spoke. “Well, there you have it.” 

“Sorry. I didn't know it would turn so… real,” you said quietly, closing the book and placing it on the table. 

“No - it's not - don't.... A lifetime ago, right?” 

“Right,” you agreed. Clearing your throat, you got to your feet and rubbed your clammy hands on your jeans. “Want a beer?” Now, you were eager to change the subject to just about anything else.

Dean looked up at you with apprehension as he accepted the bottle from you. He didn't know how much longer he could hold back his feelings. It was a decision made with his brain rather than his heart, to wait until he was sure you weren't gonna leave again. Every day was a new challenge, and he had to convince himself all over again that this was for the best, even though he desperately wanted you back in his arms. It was so clear to him now, why no relationship he’d had worked out, because no matter who they were or how happy they made him, they were never you. No one could take your place in his heart, not ever. “You know-” he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, looking anywhere but right at you -”that night meant a lot to me too. And not just because I got laid for the first time,” he said with a chuckle. Typical Dean to add some joke into a serious conversation. “But because it was you.” 

The truth he spoke was clear in his emerald orbs and it damn near melted your heart. “I guess it was pretty great. Especially for two teenagers who were too immature to say the word ‘sex’ out loud,” you mused, a crooked smile on your lips. 

“You know what I think we should do?” Dean asked after a moment of silence. 

“What?” 

“We should grab some beers and head up to the lake to watch the sunset. Bring some blankets and stuff like we used to do, you know?” 

“I would like that very much,” you said earnestly. 

T&N Tags: @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @capandbuckylvr​ @superapplepie​ @sandlee44​ @eliwinchester99​ @sunflowers-n-rocknroll​

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#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean series #spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfic #dean fluff #Dean angst #SPN series #dean winchester fanfiction

[sylvie-writes]

Are You Worthy?

Part 2 of Getting Ready

Disclaimer: Some of the events may be out of order or removed but it’s for the purpose of the story

Warnings: mentions of alcohol. any screw ups in spelling or grammar.  

I just found out that I screwed up the timeline... but this is fanfcition... so just please ignore that huge plot hole that i’ve just created. 

Loosely edited. I will fully check over it this week, my loves. 

Sorry about the end. It’s midnight and i’m too tired to write a whole ass scene. 

Enjoy!

The drive to the compound was a little over twenty minutes, the late night traffic of Brooklyn lightly flooding the roads. Sarah was in the back seat, strapped in her car seat joyously maundering about making new friends tonight. That child was a social butterfly, never really understanding the stranger-danger rule, one you and Steve often tried to implement into her impressionable mind. Steve looked into the rearview mirror, shooting the mini chatty cathy a large smile. 

Arriving at the event, ponds of cars littered the street, valet attendants frantically rushing around to the lineup of many pretentious cars. Once a valet had taken your car, Steve stepped out, first helping you from the passenger seat and then unbuckling Sarah. All three Rogers casually strolled into the multi-level tower, its height unfathomable. Heading to the back elevators, which weren’t crowded, for you all knew the compound layout better than most of the guests. Sarah’s hands held your’s and Steve’s as she was sandwiched between the two of you, yet happily swinging her parents’ hands with her own.

Sam immediately greeted you, Steve and Sarah, quickly inviting you all over for a friendly game of pool with some older gentlemen. Of course, since Sarah was only three, she couldn't play pool and instead joyously watched as the billiard balls fell into the pockets, only piquing her interest as she wondered where the pockets led to. You and Steve decided to share one cue stick, each shooting while the other held Sarah, who babbled to the parent holding her at that time. 

About halfway through the game, Steve had noticed you were shivering just a smidge. He swiftly laid the cue stick against the pool table as it wasn't his turn anyway. Taking off the leather jacket, Steve wrapped it around your shoulders, prompting you to turn your attention and body back towards the pool table and him.

“You scared me, Rogers.” You jocosely squinted at the man then handing Sarah over so you could properly wear the oversized leather jacket. The pleasant and familiar cologne wrapped around your body as if it were a warm and securing hug. By the time you had finished your mini conversation with Steve it was your turn to play pool, Sarah preciously becoming your cheerleader. 

Steve had ventured off with Sam while you and Sarah had ended up with Tony, Thor and Maria, painfully listening to Rhodey’s recollection of his time as the War Machine. 

“Well, you know the suit can take the weight. So I take the tank, fly it right up to the General’s Palace, drop it at his feet, and I’m like BOOM, you looking for this?” 

Tony and Thor just looked at Rhodey with an unamused look while Sarah giggled at the story, not really understanding but laughing at the funny voice he had used. Reiterating himself, Rhodey repeated the story in hopes of getting a better reaction from his crowd. 

“Boom. Are you looking- why do I even talk to you guys? Everywhere else that story kills.”

The disappointed man turns to face you, his hand up, expecting a high five. You just look at him before laughing and shaking your head, while Sarah glady gives Rhodey her hand in place of yours. 

“Well that's the whole story?”

Rhodey turned back to Thor with a mirthless expression.

“Yes, that’s the War Machine story.”

Thor turned to Tony, then back to Rhodey, laughing deeply and then responding with what you had assumed was sarcasm.

“Oh it’s very good then. It’s impressive!”

“Quality save.” 

Amused at Thor’s attempt, Rhodey then changed the subject, the conversation moving faster than Steve could run.

“Gentlemen, where are the ladies?” 

Maria’s simple question turned into a compliment battle between Tony and Thor. 

Sarah continued to giggle and out stretched her arms to the man beside you, a signal to hold her. Stopping your own laughter, you hand Sarah over to Rhodey who was just as giddy as the little girl in his arms.

“Go find your hubby!” Rhodey nudged you in the shoulder and you gave him and Sarah a quick hug before going your separate ways. You shot the two gloating men with a look of mock disappointment, bidding Maria a “good luck”, and then leaving at Rhodey’s wishes. 

“What happened to him?” You walked to stand beside Steve, watching as an older gentleman, drunkenly passed out, was being carried by two younger men. 

“This.” Steve brought the glass to your lips, a sour look tainting your face after just a small sip.

“My god, what is that?! It takes like fire!” A hearty chuckle left Steve as he pointed to Thor who was holding a small flask and doing shots with a group of men. 

Sarah was still with Tony, allowing you and Steve to go enjoy some time with each other. The two of you just stood on the balcony, your arms linked together as the stars brightly painted the sky. It had been a while since you and Steve had such a heartfelt conversation, both recalling old memories. Not only was the man linked beside you, your husband, but also your best friend. You and Steve have always shared everything with the other, whether it be tears or laughter. This man was literally the epitome of your everything. 

“Do you remember when you listened to a few of my vinyls for weeks just so you could learn the words?” 

Steve’s lips were on your head as he talked, leaving gentle kisses.

A chuckle left your mouth at the adorable yet embarrassing memory.

It was in the beginning of your relationship when you and Steve were just months into a relationship. Steve had always let you choose the music. He even learned how to use cd’s in a boombox, quite the change from vinyls and a record player. Well, one day, Steve had left for a mission, one you were not needed for. During the day that he was gone, you spent hours trying to figure out how to use his record player. When you finally did, that day all you listened to were the vinyls, engraving every word into your mind.  

“I couldn’t figure out how to play the vinyls.” A small pout wiggled onto your lips, one Steve kissed away then pulled from your face chuckling breathily. 

“Don’t laugh at your wife’s pain!”

“I’m not trying to! You are just so damn adorable. I see where Sarah gets it from.”

An hour later, you and Steve had parted ways and you were currently strolling over to the bar, a martini in mind, but when your daughter came bounding at you, hugging your leg, your plans for a drink changed.

“Hi, Mommy!” Unlatching the girl from your leg, you leaned down to pick her up, seeing Tony now staring at you with a look of relief. Sarah must’ve run from him at the sight of her mother. 

You waved Tony away, bidding him back to his conversation. 

“What are you doing, Mommy?” 

“I was just about to get a drink.” 

“Ohhh can I have one?”

After her request, you explained to her that some drinks were for adults. Martini long forgotten, you instead went to order a shirley temple to share with Sarah. At first she was confused since you had just explained that the drinks from the bar were for adults, but then you further told her some drinks were okay. Long story short, Sarah had just learned that she must ask you or Steve since you would both know what to order her.

Now done with the most confusing lesson you’ve ever taught Sarah, you continued your walk to the bar.

Natasha was behind the counter, currently pouring a drink for herself while she and Bruce returned some playful chatter. A few minutes passed and their conversation ended. Smirking, Nat left the flustered man with your husband, who had just shown up at the end of the counter for a beer himself.

“It’s nice.”

Bruce turned to look at Steve, genuinely confused, partly to Steve’s statement and then Natasha's flirting. 

“You and Romanoff.” 

Once all the pieces finally clicked in the clueless man’s head, he instantly denied the claims thrown his way. 

Deciding to finally join the conversation, you walked up beside Steve, who was happily surprised at your appearance, with Sarah on your hip. 

“Yeah, you both are adorable!” 

Poor Bruce was a ball of nerves not even able to form the words to repudiate your comment. 

“It’s okay, nobody’s breaking any bylaws.”

Sarah’s attention had now shifted from the mature conversation and to Thor who was a few feet away. The man was making funny faces at her, snickers ensuing. Tapping your shoulder politely, she then pointed to Thor and you set her down, watching her run away, never once peeling away your eyes until she made it into the safe hold of the man, who shot a thumbs up allowing you to return to Steve and Bruce’s conversation. 

“It’s just that she’s not the most… open person in the world, but with you she seems very relaxed.” 

“Agreed. You two are practically like Steve and I!” 

“No, Natasha, she just likes to flirt.” 

“I’ve seen her flirt. Up close. And this ain’t that.” Your husband reached for a beer, then holding his arm out for you. 

“Look, as maybe the world’s leading authority on waiting too long. Don’t. You both deserve a win.” 

Steve gave Bruce a heartening smile, waiting as you unlatched your arm from his. You placed a friendly peck on the man’s cheek before giving him some words of reassurance.

“Don’t underestimate your worth.” Bruce then gave you both a small meek smile, returning to his drink. 

“What do you mean up close!” You and Steve were already long gone yet still able to hear Bruce’s cry of befuddlement to which your husband smirked, causing you to scoldingly slap him on the chest.

“You're absolutely terrible, Grant.” 

As expected, Steve just laughed at your reprimand. Whenever you scolded him, it usually involved his middle name being crammed somewhere into your lengthy chide. Like a disciplined child, he’d listen pitifully. Most of the time you’d chastise him for his reckless nature, that scared you to death. Then he’d apologize a thousand times while planting kisses all over your face, making you giggle endlessly, certainly failing at keeping up the irritated facade.  

“Yet, you love me, doll.” Steve had somehow dragged you to the dance floor, pulling your flush to him as the song began. You brought your arms to his neck, noses touching as he proudly smiled down on you, slightly tightening his grip on your waist. The two of you swayed slowly, your lips connected softly. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

Once the song had finished it was replaced with an upbeat line dance to which you and Steve briskly rushed off the floor being met with Sarah who sat at a table with Natasha, cheering at you and Steve.

“Mommy, Daddy! That was omazing!” 

“Well, how about you and I go get some celebration cake for everyone!”

As any sane toddler, Sarah agreed to her father’s delectable plan. Steve plucked his daughter from Natasha’s lap, then taking yours and hers order. Once the two had left, you dived right into a conversation with Nat. The topic; Bruce.

Not too long after, the party ended and all Avengers then regrouped, tiredly surrounding the large coffee table covered in takeout and Thor’s hammer idly resting on the end. 

“But it’s a trickkkk.” Clint dragged out his statement to emphasize his belief, the little girl sitting beside you, smiling wider. 

“No. no. it’s much more than that.” Steve and Thor exchanged the flask as you stared at it, still revolted by its god-awful taste. 

“Ah, whosoever be he worthy shall haveth the power.” You leaned towards the table, reaching for the carton, laughing at Clint’s truthful reenactment. 

“Whatever man, it’s a trick!”

Arising a challenge, Thor pointed to Mjolnir. 

“Please, be my guest.” 

“Come on.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah.”

Clint got up from his seat on the ground, walking confidently towards the hammer as Tony let out a snarky remark.

“Clint, you’ve had a tough week, we won’t hold it against you if you can’t get it up.”

Laughter circled around as Clint came up to Thor, a promising look on his face.

“You know I’ve seen this before right?” 

With one hand, Clint attempted to pull the hammer, utilizing all his strength not an ounce unused. 

“I still don’t know how you do it.” 

“Smell the silent judgement?” Giggles escaped yours and Sarah’s lips as Steve turned to see his two best girls enjoying the amusement. 

“Please, Stark, by all means.” 

With arrogant poise, Stark raised from his seat, scooting to the table as you could picture his impending disappointment, already laughing at the mere thought. 

“Never one to shrink from an honest challenge.” 

Rolling up his sleeves, Tony placed his arm in the handle of the hammer.

“Right, so, if I lift it, I then rule Asgard?” 

“Yes, of course.” Thor calmly replied, just basking in the free entertainment from his competitive friends. You could see Steve who was beside him, trying his best to contain his laughter. Directing Sarah’s attention from Tony and to Steve, she held in her own laughter as you explained what was happening. 

“I will be reinstituting Prima Nocta.” To no surprise, the hammer didn’t budge leaving Tony quickly trying to cover his displeasure. 

Tony then returned with his suit’s hand, the hammer still resting on the table. Even Rhodey joined Tony’s unsuccessful conquest. 

“Are you even pulling?” 

“Are you on my team?”

“Just represent. Pull.” 

Next up was Bruce, who also failed, luckily not hulking out on everyone. Natasha gave him a smile while Steve and Thor tried to hide their merriment.  

After Bruce’s fruitless attempt, it soon became your husband’s turn. 

“Come on, Cap.” 

Steve then pulled on the hammer with all his brawn. You weren’t even sure if you were paying attention to the hammer anymore, too caught up on the shirt clinging to Steve. 

Your attention span was then proved when the hammer moved up. Sarah’s eyes widened as did yours. Thor had obviously noticed since you sensed some tensity from him. Steve tried once again, this time receiving the same futile result as the rest. When the hammer stopped budging you saw the now relieved man swiftly try to cover up his reaction. A nervous chuckle escaping his lips, echoing into the glass. 

“Nothing!” 

“Mrs. & lil Ms. Rogers?” Steve outstretched his hand to yours and Sarah’s, guiding you both towards the hammer. All three of you grabbed the hammer. Steve holding the handle while you and Sarah pulled at the stick. Everyone’s combined strength was enough to lift the hammer had it not been of otherworldly decent. Giving up, Sarah was just a smidge disappointed, perking back to herself at Tony’s quip.

“Even the House of Rogers failed too.” You shot Stark a faux look of vexation from the couch, to which he returned with his tongue poking out. Sarah caught this and then ran to him copying his action while you went to sit on Steve’s lap.

“And, Widow?”

Natasha sipped her beer and shook her head. 

“That’s not a question I need answered.” 

The night continued on with conspiracy theories about the hammer and playful jabs at Steve’s slip-up on his choice of words from the mission recently, Sarah enjoying every moment of the time albeit past her bedtime. 

At some point, Sarah had fallen asleep on your shoulder as you and Steve bid your fellow Avengers goodbye. 

Indeed, today has been one of the best days, all in part to your lovely family and closest friends. 

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #chris evans

[rosesisupposes]

Ordinary Night

“send me a made-up fic title and i’ll tell you what i would write to go with it”

Prompt Tag

word count: 3,875

pairings: Ex-Anxceit; Background Remile;

warnings: divorce/abandonment; lost child; mentions of depressive and manic episodes; distressed nonverbal episode;

reader tags: @residentanchor​ @royally-anxious​ @bewarethegrammarpolice​ @jemthebookworm​ @arandompasserby​  @sparkly-rainbow-salt​ @astral-eclipse​​ @thelowlysatsuma​ @adorably-angsty​

I came up with the Single Dad AU a while ago but it’s never emerged from Discord to become a full story, but I love it very, very much. So thank you, nonny, for the excuse

Read on Ao3

“Give it back!”

“No, Dad said it’s my turn to pick the movie!”

“You always pick the same one! I’m tired of Winnie the Pooh!”

“But I like it!”

“Can we at least watch the Tigger one?”

“No! Pooh Bear!”

Young voices whined back and forth in an argument that had been held at least once a week for the last three months in the Sanders household. Six-year-old Patton was climbing on top of the couch cushions, brandishing the remote as eight-year-old Roman tried to reclaim it. Their younger brother, four-year-old Logan, watched from the corner in silence.

Their dad entered the room and, with practiced ease, plucked Patton from his teetering perch on the couch.

“Hey, hey, buddy, careful, okay? You might fall from up there!”

“Daaddd, Ro is trying to take my night again!”

The single father balanced his middle son on his hip as he looked sternly down his eldest.

“Roman, what have we talked about with movie nights?”

The second-grader sighed heavily, crossing his arms. “He gets to pick whatever movie he wants,” he recited, blowing strawberry blonde hair out of his eyes. “Even if it’s boring.”

“Pooh Bear isn’t boring!” Patton objected loudly, making his father wince from the volume.

“Is too!”

“Is not!”

“Boys. We will skip movie night entirely if you can’t behave,” Dad warned. Both children immediately went silent, but stuck tongues out at each other when they thought Dad couldn’t see.

“I’m going on an adventure, so that at least not all of today is boring,” Roman announced, running to the toy box for his tiny foam sword. “Where’s my noble steed?”

“I wanna come!” Patton cried, wriggling out of his father’s hold. Taking the remote back, Dad let him go as a small smile crept up at the corners of his mouth. How quickly they went from feuding to playing.

“Let’s go slay a dragon!” Roman cried, stabbing the air.

“What if we fight a witch?” said Patton with huge eyes, grabbing his matching foam shield.

“A dragon-witch!” Roman announced happily. “Lolo, wanna come?”

The youngest looked at the floor through glasses he already needed. “…don’ wanna”

“Aw, Lolo, you sure?”

“…scary,” the toddler said.

“We’ll protect you,” Patton said, crouching to look in his brother’s eyes. “Roro is the best knight ever! And I have a shield!”

Logan shook his head. Patton sighed and carefully patted his hand. “Next time? But only if you wanna, okay?”

Satisfied at the small nod, Patton trotted upstairs. Roman cast around before crouching behind the couch. “Ah! My steed!” he said happily. He stood with a cat in his arms. The tom bore being carried with long-suffering patience, held around the middle by small arms that could only just make it all the way around.

“Ro, be careful with Thomas, okay?” Dad warned. “Pat’s taken his medicine, but don’t let him bury his face in fur again.”

“Yes, I’ll be careful,” Roman said with all the indignance a eight-year-old could muster. He jauntily strode up the stairs after his brother, arms full of cat and sword.

His father watched him go as he settled on the couch. Logan crawled up into his lap and settled there, sitting up straight but balanced on his dad’s knee.

“Hey there, L. No adventure today?”

Logan shook his head.

“Just don’t want to, or something wrong?”

The little boy was silent.

“How is touching today? Thumbs up?” his dad asked, hand creating the gesture he referred to. His son responded in kind. Moving slowly, Dad pulled Logan into his chest, resting a hand lightly in the boy’s dark brown hair.

“Do you have the words for the something wrong, or is it just bad?” he asked softly.

“…miss Papa,” Logan replied, turning his head fully into Dad’s chest.

His father kissed the top of his head and held him close. He knew of his son’s tears from the dampness on his shirt rather than any sounds or shaking. When he could finally speak evenly, he replied, “I miss him too, Lolo.”

“When does he come back?”

“Maybe never.”

“Why?”

“I wish I knew, kiddo. I’m sorry I can’t give you a good reason.”

Logan clutched at the fabric of Dad’s shirt, still not looking up.

His father kissed his head again and leaned back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling as he blinked away tears. He was so tired of crying, so tired of knowing neither he nor his sons might ever understand why their other father had left. But it had been months without any communication, since they came home from the park to an empty house and a missing suitcase.

Three young boys, one beloved cat, one father who’d just lost the love of his life and his partner parent all at once. That was the Sanders household now. A night of childish yells and tears from the boys and their father alike: this was an ordinary night.

So how was Dad doing? He was a nervous wreck, of course. If he’d been a bit on edge before, it was nothing compared to the absolute personification of anxiety Virgil had become now.

As he breathed deeply to calm himself, Virgil ran a hand lightly through Logan’s soft, wavy hair. “What do you say to some Magic School Bus before dinner, Lo? Would that be good?”

“Mmhmm,” the toddler said with a nod, sliding off his dad’s lap.

As Virgil stood, Logan reached for his hand and pulled him towards the stairs. Virgil let himself be led to the smallest bedroom, where Logan immediately went to his small but growing book collection. He pulled out a CD that Virgil then placed in the small speakers he’d bought, back when he and his ex had adopted Roman. The “Baby Boombox,” Ethan had called it, as he filled Ro’s room with all his favorite Broadway soundtracks and Disney ballads. Then had come Patton, with Raffi songs and lullabies because they were the only things that would send him to sleep smiling when Roman was still active during naptime. And now there was Logan, who was soothed by the smooth strains of classical musicals and who listened with rapt attention (if not complete understanding) to audiobooks of all kinds. Virgil popped in Logan’s choice, “Lost in Space” and set it to play. Logan scooted his tiny plush chair as close as he could to the speaker and sat, staring up in wonder as his favorite narrator read about Ms. Frizzle’s class and whirling planets. Without interrupting, Virgil slipped out of his youngest son’s room and made his way to the kitchen to start dinner.

The pasta was cooking and the sauce bubbling on the stove when Virgil’s phone buzzed against the counter. He glanced at the screen and smiled.

If the past year had taught him anything, it was just how important family could be. He and his brother use to have a rather rocky relationship, never spending much time together. Unfortunately, Ethan had been part of the reason for the rift - Remy had never liked his brother-in-law and was never any good at hiding it. Normally when he was proven right about anything, Remy held it over his younger brother’s head for the rest of their lives. But not this time. Not when they’d sparked into full-on screaming matches over the years as Virgil asserted that Remy was wrong about Ethan. He was a good partner and an amazing father. He’d even said it, hadn’t he? His biggest ambition in life was to be a good papa.

Guess that had been a lie, too.

But no amount of friction and distance could have kept Remy away the night Virgil had called in tears. “Nuncle” Remy had been a near-constant fixture in the Sanders house ever since, particularly in those first couple of months. It had been Remy who’d suggested Virgil get the boys to therapists early, right after the split. It had been Remy’s husband Emile who’d found them matches among his colleagues, ones who made the boys feel safe and heard. It had been those therapists who discovered the reason behind Roman’s mood swings, identifying his bipolar personality disorder early and helping Virgil to get him the appropriate treatment. It had been Emile who’d cautiously suggested he get Logan fully evaluated for autism, and found him compassionate parenting resources to help relate and communicate with Lo better. Virgil would be a wreck without his brother and brother-in-law – or, rather, he’d be more of a wreck.

Which is why, when Logan went missing, Remy was the instinctual first call.

He’d heard Roman and Patton bounce down the stairs into the den, making dramatic sound effects as they fought their dragon-witch. He hadn’t heard the door open, or the soft steps of Logan following his brothers downstairs. He hadn’t seen Thomathy the tomcat be loosed into the yard as Roman cried, “Ride into the sunset, noble steed!” He hadn’t seen Logan stand on his tiptoes to re-open the door and follow the cat outdoors.

He’d just called for the older two boys and gone upstairs to get Logan when he’d found the CD player off and the chair empty. And that’s when the panic had kicked in.

“Lolo?” he called upstairs.

“Buddy?” he asked the den.

“Logan?!” he almost screeched into the basement.

Roman and Patton were obediently sitting at the kitchen table, fidgeting, when Virgil re-entered, eyes ablaze. “Where’s your brother? Was he playing with you?”

“No, he was too scared,” Roman scoffed.

Patton, on the other hand, looked concerned. “I think maybe he followed us? He was trying to pet Tommy.”

“Where is Thomas?” their father asked, the edge in his voice rising. “You were playing with him, where did he go?”

Roman shrank in his seat as he realized this was more than just make-believe. “He… I wanted him to be free?” He pointed to the back door with a shaky hand.

Virgil stared at his eldest son, biting back harsh words of frustration. He was eight, he didn’t know better yet. But the panic was rising, thrumming through his veins and disrupting his ability to think straight.

He grabbed his phone and hit the speed dial to Remy.

“Rem? I need you here,” he said the minute his brother picked up. “Logan got out of the house chasing the cat.”

“Shit, okay, I’ll be there in 5,” Remy said, already hanging up before Virgil could point out that he lived a ten-minute drive away. He arrived in three. Normally his driving habits pissed Virgil the hell off, but at that moment, it was all he can do to not cry in relief as he grabbed a flashlight and his extensive first aid kit from under the sink and ran out the back door.

Remy was soon placing himself bodily in front of the door to prevent either older brother from charging after.

“I’m a bad prince, I’m the villain,” Roman choked out through his tears. “It’s all my fault.”

“I gotta keep him safe!” Patton said. He tried and failed to climb onto the counter, but grabbed what ‘supplies’ he could reach into his school bag, a collection of juiceboxes and goldfish and band-aids.

“Hey, hey, little dudes, c’mon,” Remy said, trying to sound as soothing as possible. “C’mere.”

They were just small enough and he was just big enough to gather them both into his arms at once, even as they wriggled and tried to escape.

“Dad’s gonna get Lo back, okay? They’ll both be back soon,” he said, carrying the boys to the couch. “And Tomma-llama-ding-dong too.” He placed them both on the couch. They were both red-eyed and drippy-noed, but no longer trying to make a break for it. He grabbed tissues and wiped their faces and noses, moving gently. He watched Roman particularly hard. He’d been present for downward spirals before, when the mania and hyperactivity fell, gradually or suddenly, into dark days where the boy could barely get out of bed.

Remy ran soft fingers through Roman’s light hair, remembering. The worst depressive episode had lasted a full week and a half, and Virgil had been despondent. It was right after that bastard Virgil’s ex had walked out on them, and of course Virgil had blamed himself, telling Remy that Ro’s depression was all his fault for not being a good enough father. He would have curled up around his boy and begged him to be okay, if Remy hadn’t sat on his chest reminded him that he had two other sons that needed him. Childish? Yes, quite literally, sitting on him was Remy’s favorite way of picking on his little brother when they had been children themselves. But it had worked, and Roman was getting treatment now, both medications and therapy, and both his uncles and his dad had learned strategies to help keep him from getting trapped in his up- and down-swings.

Now, Patton imitated Remy, patting a slightly-stick hand on Roman’s shoulder in a sweet attempt at grounding techniques. More than any of the boys, Patton took after Virgil, always trying to keep his brothers safe. He was fierce in his defense of them towards others, but gentle and soft when he saw them sad. Remy ruffled Patton’s honey-gold curls with his free hand and stood. He had Roman and Patton Sanders in his care, and they were sad and worried. It was time for some Disney movies.

The sun was falling below the horizon as Logan followed the family cat into the woods behind their house. He trotted as fast as his still-chubby toddler legs could carry him, following the brown-and-black striped tail of the big tabby. Galloping paws quickly carried the pet out of sight, but Logan kept plodding along in the same vague direction. Scarcely noticing the growing dark, he clutched his worn, stuffed octopus tightly in one hand as he walked further and further into the forest. When Papa had asked when he wanted to name it, he’d looked up and said “Octopus.” His tone had been one of “Well, duh,” and his voice had been so deadpan for a three-year-old that Virgil had fallen into intermittent fits of giggles for hours after. But he’d carried it continuously ever since, particularly as he listened to his books on the deep sea. He clutched it tight as he finally caught up to Thomas. The tabby had found a mossy patch under a tree, caught in the last patch of sunlight, and curled up contently. Logan sat next to him and patted his head, content that he’d finally done what he set out to do. But looking up, the toddler realized he could no longer see the edge of the forest and wasn’t sure which direction he’d come from. He was in the middle of the forest, alone, with no notion of how to get home. Logan didn’t cry, or yell, or flail. He just froze, everything locking down in the face of a situation he didn’t understand and couldn’t solve. He might have stood like that for minutes or hours, but Thomcat chose that moment to stand with a stretch and wind his way around his smallest family member, purring as he rubbed up against Logan’s short legs. The warmth drew him out of his paralysis, and he sat heavily on the mossy stump. The cat leapt into his lap, covering most of his tiny torso in warm fur as the beloved pet continued to purr. Clutching tufts of Thomas’ fur in one hand and Octopus in the other, Logan’s emotions thawed and he started to sniffle, then cry aloud. His hiccups and sobs reverberated off the unfamiliar trees that surrounded him.

Virgil crashed through the trees, flashlight and first aid kit in hand, trying his best to keep a level head. Logan was missing. His little boy, the tiniest, quietest member of their family, was alone, somewhere probably dying in the forest definitely kidnapped by child stealers lost in the unfriendly woods. He’d made that promise, over and over again through the long adoption process: he would keep his sons safe. He would protect them. He wouldn’t let anything dangerous happen to them. Ethan may not have meant it, but Virgil had, with every fiber of his being. He would keep his family safe, every single member.

He trusted Remy to be a good caretaker to Pat and Ro right now, but he worried for his eldest. He just dashed into ideas and plans without thinking, so much more than either of his brothers. And of course, Virgil knew why. A memory sprang to life like a film reel in his head without his bidding.

“Papa, look at me! I’m gonna be just like Peter Pan! I can fly!”

“Of course you can, Roro! If you wish hard enough!”

A summer day, lazy and bathed in golden light. It had been magical in a way - no wonder Roman had believed in super abilities. But that moment, Virgil had finally seen what was happening as he rounded the corner, an infant Logan strapped to his chest and Patton holding his hand.

“Fly- Roro! Kiddo, please get down from the roof!”

Ethan had just chuckled. “Shhh, V, he’ll probably be fine. He’s gotta learn somehow, right?”

Patton, all of three years old and still lisping, had shook a finger at his older brother.

“Wowo, get down fwom thewe!”

“You can’t stop me, ‘m a PRINCE!” the five-year-old had yelled back, approaching the edge of the shed roof.

Virgil had dropped Pat’s hand to run, shrieking more than speaking as he yelled, “Roman Sanders, do not jump off that roof! You’re going to get down safely!”

Ethan had barely budged, too busy laughing his ass off. It had ended up being Virgil alone who helped Roman get down, letting him be Dad the Downer while Papa stayed ‘the fun one’ in Roman’s eyes. Was it any wonder he’d blamed himself for Ro’s bipolar swings?

But he’d learned better since then. Being a ‘fun’ dad didn’t matter at all if he couldn’t keep them safe, first and foremost. He would find his little boy, and their cat, and he would bring them home. He checked his first aid kit as he walked and sighed with relief. He’d remembered to re-stock it recently. In addition to the bandages and ice packs and ointments and band-aids in everyone’s favorite characters, he’d packed everyone’s favorite treats. He had cat treats for Thomas, which he immediately took out and started wafting, and he had tiny containers of Crofter’s jelly, Logan’s only favorite food that he always wanted to eat, no matter his mood. Virgil listened to the forest hard for any noise besides the rustling wind. He had his flashlight turned on even before the sun fully set, to make sure Logan would see him coming. His heart still raced, frantically pointing out every passing second and minute that his son remained missing. Every moment he was out here was another moment he could be tripping over roots or eating poisonous berries or getting a rash or being abducted or hitting his head or…

Deep breaths, Virge, he reminded himself. In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight. The calming reminders in his head spoke with Emile’s voice, gentle and soothing. He could only do his job as Dad if he kept his head and stayed alert. He listened hard again, noting small animals, leaves falling, choked sobs, branches cracking, distant cars, and -

Sobs! Where were they coming from?

He picked up his pace, needing to double back a couple times before he was heading in the direction of the noise. He swept his flashlight in front of him with one hand and shook the cat treats with the other as he called out.

“Logan? Is that you? Logan? Thomas?”

The sobs stopped abruptly, and the flashlight beam illuminated a tiny form unraveling itself from a fluffy one almost the same size. “Dada?”

Virgil sprinted the last few yards. He worried for a moment that Logan might need to avoid touch right now, but that fear was dispelled with the toddler threw himself into his father’s arms.

“Lolo, are you alright? I was so worried, kiddo! Did you hurt yourself? Were you scared? I’m here, I’ll get you home, okay?”

“Dada, ‘m sorry.”

“Why sorry, Loberry?”

“I was bad, an’ I got lost,” Logan said, gripping Virgil’s jacket and Octopus with equal tightness.

“Oh, my little Lo, no, you weren’t bad. We should have been with you, I should have been watching. I’m so sorry, honeybear. But you’re safe now, okay? We’re gonna go home.”

Virgil knelt, picking up Logan and balancing him on one hip, then picking up a long-suffering Thomas and draping the cat over his shoulder. He was a bit encumbered by his first aid kit, but nothing could bother him now that his little boy was safely in his arms.

Searching for Logan had felt like an eternity, but had been less than 20 minutes. When father and son and cat entered the back door, the Disney movie (Sleeping Beauty, Remy’s choice) hadn’t yet finished. The door closing woke up Roman and Patton from where they had dozed off, but they were immediately up and hugging Virgil’s legs.

Their father ruffled their heads as he gentled let Logan stand on his own, then pulled them all into a group hug.

“We’re gonna talk tomorrow, okay, kiddos? About Thomas safety and Lolo safety. But tonight we’ll just relax together, now that we’re all home. I love you all so much.”

“I love you, Dad”

“Love you too!”

“Me too, Dada.”

By the end of the night and the second movie (Atlantis, Logan’s request, and Patton had conceded that he didn’t want any movies with woods), the Sanders house had quieted. Virgil could feel his heartbeat return to normal for the first time in hours as he gazed fondly at his sons. All three had fallen asleep, sprawled across the couch and Virgil’s lap. Remy had helped them change before heading home with a last firm hug and reassurance that, “You done good, bro.” Logan’s head rested on Virgil’s thigh, the horn of his unicorn onesie flopping over as he slept. Patton was snuggled up as close as Logan had okayed, cat ears folded over on his one onesie. And Roman had pulled a pillow on the ground so that he could be next to all of them, a tiny lion defending his pride in the onesie that he was practically “too old for,” but that he’d still wear when Pat asked him to. Thomas the tomcat, exhausted by his forest adventure, was curled into a ball in a laundry basket.

So how was Dad doing?

He’d never be completely at ease, not with so much depending on him, not with so many obstacles to overcome. But for tonight, Virgil was content.

#prompt writing #Roses Writes Fanfic #single dad au #single parent au #my imaginary sons #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #ts virgil #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts remy #ts emile picani #ts deceit #ex-anxceit #anxceit #remile #background remile #familial sleepxiety #my smol dark son #my smol drama son #my smol soft son #my smol nerd son #my smol sass son #//deceit

[onestowatch]

The Albums That Got Us Through School | Staff Picks

Life would not be the same without music. That sentiment holds twice as true when it comes to talking about one’s school years. At a time when you are going through seemingly-infinite transitional phases and overwhelming confusion is at an all-time high, music exists as both an escape and connecting force to the world outside your immediate purview; music can become something larger than yourself. 

Quite possibly the only thing in existence capable of connecting The Plastics and the rest of us, how would middle school, high school, and college us existed without those albums that quite literally defined teenage us? After all, we all didn’t grow up with lofi hip hop radio - beats to study/relax to. So, we asked ourselves what one album served as our guiding light through those tumultuous school years. 

Avril Lavigne - Let Go

From the palpable agony in “Losing Grip,” to the innocent infatuation in “Sk8er boi,” to the tear-worthy loneliness in “I’m with You,” there’s no album that guided me through the early 2000s more than Avril Lavigne’s Let Go. Introducing an emo side of pop music, Lavigne’s dark and relatable lyrics undoubtedly rescued countless young women in the face of hormonal angst. Truth be told, I still bump it in the car more often than not.

-Yasmin Damoui

Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

In terms of pure listening time, Panic! at the Disco’s debut or Green Day’s American Idiot likely takes the prize for scoring my school years. However, no album embodied the overwhelming teenage urge to grow up quite like Neutral Milk Hotel’s landmark album In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. Released over a decade before I would ever dare to play Jeff Magnum’s haunting fuzz-folk’s meditations over the school’s PA system (the result of a misguided initiative to allow students greater control over the lunch playlist) to this day, In the Aeroplane Over the Sea exists as a nostalgia-ridden reminder to days and nights spent trying to uncover a greater, hidden meaning behind all the noise.

-Maxamillion Polo

Drake - Thank Me Later

From late nights on Facebook writing statuses dedicated to my crush to "Shut it Down," to queuing up "Miss Me" on the bus to school so that it'd start playing as soon as I stepped off... damn. That album really has everything. The braggadocios, the late-night simp tunes, a fun, flirty track for the ladies. You name it baby. It shaped me into the versatile king that I am today, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

-Green Lee

Nine Inch Nails - The Downward Spiral

Masterfully melding the bellicose but anxious feelings of my wintery youth, the downward spiral lyrically guided me to the heights of teenage cliché. I stopped playing sports. I became deliberate and moody at house parties. I wrote terrible facsimile poetry to my much prettier and interesting girlfriends. I joined bands one week, quit them the next. All the bad decisions buoyed by this great album, my adolescence summarized succinctly, you could have it all, my empire of dirt.

-David O’Connor

Kanye West - Graduation

The album that got me through college was Kanye West’s Graduation. I was a junior in college when this song was out and it signified a lot of change in my life which coincided with Kanye’s progress in musical prowess. The nights we would drive around off-campus listening to “Flashing Lights” are some nights I’ll remember forever. Kanye’s legendary ‘Glow In The Dark’ tour was based on this album cycle. I remember driving two hours on a weeknight just to catch this show near my hometown with three of my friends. This moments I had around this album will always mean a lot to me.

-Malcolm Gray

Blink-182 - Blink-182

Blink-182’s self-titled album was undoubtedly the album that got me through my pre-teen and teenage years. Growing up in the Northshore of Chicago (yes the same Northshore that Mean Girls was based off of, and yes that movie was crazy accurate about the kids I was surrounded by), it was hard to find who you actually are in the midst of rumors, bullying and cliques. The album showed growth in maturity, while still sticking to individualism. Unlike most of Blink’s albums, this album showed a more mature side to their art. That was super important for me to remember, simply because it prevented me from getting warped into the egotistical bubble most of my peers found themselves in. It was also the album that really inspired me to get involved with music and touring, so I have to give those guys in Blink some mad props.

-Joe Leggitino

Bring Me The Horizon - Sempiternal

No band was able to simultaneously capture and validate the whirlwind of emotions I experienced on a daily basis in my early teenage years quite like Bring Me the Horizon. Their fourth studio album, Sempiternal, included songs such as “Can You Feel My Heart” and “Shadow Moses,” which contain brutally honest lyrics that related to my internal struggles in a way music had never done before. Furthermore, because of my newfound love for Bring Me the Horizon, I was welcomed into the punk/metal community with open arms. Gaining acceptance into this new community fundamentally changed my high school experience because as frontman Oli Sykes said, “Other hurting people can be the best therapy.”  

-Alissa Williams

Shania Twain - UP!

I got this huge purple boombox one year for Christmas and got really into CDs. I found this Shania Twain CD at a Best Buy clearance aisle one day with my Dad and had it on repeat for years growing up. I’d like to blame Shania for my love of country and fire of independence from men.

-Jenna Singer

Death Cab for Cutie - PLANS

PLANS hit me just when I got my driver’s license: my first legal stamp of autonomy. Driving – by myself – to these tracks gave me a hall pass to feelings I needed to feel, in my own space, in my own time.

-Alexa Schoenfeld

Kelela - Take Me Apart

When it comes to methods of surviving the emotional (and financial) rollercoaster that is college, never would I have thought to even consider the act of being taken apart to be one of the most important mechanisms for endurance. From the austere yet liberating lyrics of “Frontline” to the end-of-the-war melodies in “Altadena,” Kelela sends listeners on an emotional, intergalactic journey through the stages of dealing with a loss in her 2017 release Take Me Apart. If I learned one thing about surviving college from this album, it's that it is okay for things to fall apart sometimes, because destruction is often a conduit for rebirth (if only that also held true for the financial loss, though).

-Bianca Brown

Arctic Monkeys - AM

Nothing throws me back more than Arctic Monkey's album AM. From "Do I Wanna Know?" to "Snap Out of It," every song on that album makes me feel like an angsty tumblr teen again. Without that album, I doubt I would've been even half as edgy going through high school.

-Alison Wu

Phoenix - Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix

I didn't know indie-pop music until I heard this album. It was the first vinyl I bought, the first real band I was obsessed with. At the end of 8th grade, I found their project on Youtube and listened to it up and down in the era before ads. It ushered me into high school where I'm pretty sure I saw the world in exclusively pastel colors and thought I was enlightened because everyone else was still listening to The Black Eyed Peas. Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix made me an indie kid -- I started snowboarding, wearing a lot of grey, and only listened to blog radio after this. Phoenix is still my everything.

-Precious Kato

A Day To Remember - Common Courtesy

Ever since I first discovered A Day To Remember, they’ve remained one of my favorite bands and this record specifically got me through high school. Every track on this album has an important message and it’s definitely worth listening through in its entirety. Whether you’re going through a tough time or just needing some heavy-ish music in your life, ADTR gives it all to you.

-Alissa Arunarsirakul

#avril lavigne #neutral milk hotel #drake #kanye west #nine inch nails #Blink 182 #bring me the horizon #a day to remember #phoenix #arctic monkeys #shania twain #Death Cab For Cutie #kelea #soul #alternative #pop #folk

[drpsyche]

Serenader

Word Count: 1767

Rating: T

Based on @shadowpiratemonkey7 ‘s college and fuckboy aus. Our favorite OC from hell comes up with a full proof plan to win over the small gem/girl of her dreams.

I leaned back at the lunch table, Carnelian sat across from me, still eating. She was my wingman, the one person I could count on to bounce ideas off of and not end up in trouble with the RA.

“So,” she says, looking up at me, “Let’s go over this again. You see the girl you like; you’ve made eye contact and your going to start up your first conversation. What do you say?”

“Ask her for nudes?” I respond.

“No.”

“Ask her for… lewds?”

“No.”

“Oh! Send her nudes!”

“No!” Carnelian pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“Did I come off too strong?”

“Yes, harassment is coming off too strong.”

“Damn,” I say scrunching my brow. Talking to girls is so hard. I try my best to get it across and all they usually have to talk about is boring shit, like their studies or how their days went. Why can’t everyone just be direct?

“Alright, so this girl you like, how does she know you? Do you have classes together? Have you talked?”

“I follow her sometimes,” I respond.

Carnelian gives me a weird look. She’s fond of those. It’s one of those that’s a combination of annoyance and disbelief.

“What? She’s never seen me! I think. I can hide really well. I’m sure she’s only seen me once… or twice.”

“Alright, so she probably is aware that you’re stalking her.”

“It’s not stalking! I love her.”

“Have you ever spoken to her?”

“Of course, I asked to use her pen once and we managed to talk a bit about our classes.”

Carnelian has lost the look and seems almost surprised, “That’s… good, a good way to open up and break the ice.”

‘A damn boring way’ I think.

“Yeah, I said she looked nice. And then I said she smelled nice, and then I said she’d look nice naked, and then I asked her what her schedule was like, and then I asked if she was seeing someone, and then I asked if she’d like to go out sometime and then I-”

“Ok, so you screwed up the first meeting… already.” Carnelian says, rolling her eyes.

“Well, I… um”

“At least you didn’t ask her for nudes.”

“Uhhhhhhh”

“Goddamnit A,” Carnelian says putting her face in her hands, “Can’t you just not screw up this badly?”

“But you told me to be myself!”

“No, I have never said that. Mostly because I know you, and being yourself is never a good thing.”

I grumble. Carnelian is not a good friend. All she’s got is bad advice and she tries to keep me on a leash. We need to platonically break up or something.

“Ok, so here’s what I think you should do,” Carnelian says.

An idea comes into my head; more seductive than any idea I’ve had before.

“You should apologize,” she says.

That is not my idea. In fact, apology is one of the nastiest words I can think of, an antithesis to my very being. To apologize is to be wrong! And I’m never wrong.

“No!” I say as my face lights up, “I’ll do it like in the movies, show up at her window at night with a boombox, playing something sexy. She’ll never be able to resist. She’ll be like putty in my hands, sexy sexy putty that I can-”

“No,” Carnelian says, shaking her head, “That only works if you want to apologize, which I doubt you do, or if you need to win her back. As of now, she’ll probably think you’re stalking her… which you are. You need to come off less stalkerish.”

I sigh. I don’t want to admit it, but she might be right. I don’t want campus security coming after me again.

“Ok, what If I do it and apologize to her, in a take me back sort of way?”

“She never took you in the first place.”

“Semantics.”

“Fine, but what would music you play?”

I smile a wide toothy grin, I know exactly the music.

“Lords of Acid!” I say proudly.

“NO!” Carnelian yells, “That’s a terrible idea, what in the hell are you thinking? You wanna blast explicit sex innuendos out in the middle of the night? Are you crazy?”

Clearly Carnelian does not know the seductive power of Lords of Acid. The band can charm the shorts off of any woman.

“Look, I’ll lend you my Marc Anthony CD if you please don’t wake up the whole dorm with industrial music about pussy cats.” Carnelian says.

“Thanks.” I say, smiling. Carnelian always has my back.

  {Later That Night}

 I jog to the dorms and look up at the windows. A few lights are still on, but most have gone to bed. I finally spy her room (it’s on the third floor), and I pick a stone up. I toss it and hit the window, thankfully not breaking it. I’m getting better at this haha!

I hold up the boombox and press play. Marc Anthony’s seductive music begins to play, and I know, deep down in the very core of my being (or my crotch, same difference) that this will do it. I can see Peri now, wooed at the music, perfectly willing to dispel the ill-informed ideas of me to see the soul of a poet beneath it. Or soul of a lover, I hate poetry, its boring and only really serves to make yourself look good so you can pick up chicks. At least to me… I’ve never had a talent for it. But that doesn’t matter! What matters is that Marc Anthony does and I’ll ride his coattails to get that sweet sweet tail.

There she is! I can see the shadows moving behind the window. Groping… hehe groping is right, for the lights so she may finally see me. C’mon, just look out the window and see me. See me and love me, I know you can do it.

There! I see a flash of blonde hair, the light goes on, the window opens and… oh shit.

“How beautiful!” says the room’s occupant.

My face falls. It’s not Peri, it’s that weirdo law student. What was her name? Yana or something? God dammnit, I’ve got the wrong room. She smiles out at me, clasping her hands together.

“You know,” Yana, continues, “I’ve always dreamed of this. An attractive mysterious stranger showing up in front of my window in the dead of night. Holding up some music in the hopes I’ll leap into their arms and be off! Oh college is such a dream come true.”

She sighs, a blissful look on her face. “I’ll admit though, in my dreams they’re always playing something from Lords of Acid, but hey, not everything can be perfect.”

“uhhhhh,” I say, looking around. This isn’t going according to my plan.

Other lights are turning on as other students are popping their heads out wondering what the commotion was. Goddamnit, how did I get the wrong room?

“So, cutie pie, what made you fall this hard huh?” Yana asks, smiling down at me.

Before I can answer, I hear another voice.

“Yana, who is it?”

I recognize that voice and when the corresponding face comes to the window, I recognize it too. Oh double shit.

Bell looks out groggily down at me, slowly the realization kicks in.

“Alright babe, you know how I said we should keep things open?” Yana asks, “Well, this little thing here just came and-”

“YOU!” Bell shouts, realization blasting away any trace of tiredness, “I remember you! You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up at my dorm like this in the middle of the night!”

“Babe, it’s like… 10,” Yana corrects, but Bell is done listening.

Things have gone down the drain rapidly at this point. Peri’s weirdo lawyer guardian/mom/creature has been a nuisance before, a final block between my destiny and me.

“Get away from her you bitch!” Bell yells and disappears from the windowsill. Yana has her back turned to me and is looking inside the room.

I wonder if I should take my leave before something happens.

Then something happens! A large book comes flying from the window, spinning in the air like a deadly Frisbee. It connects with my boom box and knocks it out of my hands, smashing it and silencing Marc Anthony… forever.

I stand there, dazed, my hands still above my head holding the air where the boom box was. I lower them and turn to the smashed machine. A large thick doorstopper of a book is embedded in it. It reads “Tax Law Volume 1”.

Things have escalated and it’s probably time to run away.

“I’ve got eleven more volumes of those and I’m not afraid to use them!” Bell shouts down at me.

Yeah, definitely time to run away.

I duck as another one flies out at me, and crashes to the ground. It’s impressive that she can throw these huge tomes with such accuracy.

“Bell!” Yana says, “You know how expensive those books are right?”

“Shut up! We’re not studying to be tax lawyers!” Bell replies before furiously throwing the third one.

The fourth one clips my shoulder as I attempt to run away and I’m knocked to the ground. Bell’s yelling profanities at me and quite a bit of the dorm has woken up to watch the festivities. I scan the building and there she is. Peri’s sticking her head out of one of the windows, wondering what’s up. Sure Lapis is right behind her too because of course she would be, she’s always there because she got to Peri first. Peri and I link eyes for a brief second and we share a moment. She shivers at the sight of me, which I will see as a shiver of anticipation and not disgust (I’m very good at ignoring the latter). Then a fifth book comes flying at my head and I manage to roll away in time.

I abscond and manage to get out of range of the sixth book as I disappear into the night. My pride is wounded and so is my body, but my resolve is unbreakable! I will woo this girl! No matter how many heavy-law-tomes-fired-from-a-crazy-lawyer-who’s-also-a-little-bit-attractive-if-I’m-honest that I have to endure. Someday, somehow, I’ll finally get Peri to love me.

Just gotta make a quick stop off at the music store tomorrow to buy a replacement CD for Carnelian. I’m 90% sure the book smashed it.

 (I took Yellow and Blue’s names from definitelyameatbag’s fic that they sent in. I didn’t know what to call 8XA so I decided on just a single letter “nickname” ala S/Mystery Girl.)

#8xa #drawbauchery #shadowpiratemonkey7 #steven universe #fanfic

[g-on-ef]

Daddy’s Little Songbird

Fandom: Fairy Tail Parings: Natray/Gratsu, Fraxus, Chendy, Gajevy, Juvana, Jerza, Stingue, A little of Loray. Ratings: M for sexual content Warnings: none that I can think of Summary: Five years ago Natsu left Gray for fame and fortune, five years ago he left his unborn child never knowing them or seeing them going through their experience in life. Now he’s back and he wants to make amends, the question is does Gray even want him back? Especially now that he is engage to another man?

Chapter 1: The offer

Natsu and his cat Happy stood in front of the water fountain that was in the center of Magnolia Park. He could see people walking by minding their own business, he could see that it was a pretty crowded.

Perfect.

“You ready little buddy?” he asked at the little cat who meowed and grabbed the hat on that was lying on the ground with his mouth and walked over to the fountain. He hopped on top of the fountain. He then turned to his friend/partner.

“You ready Lucy?”

Lucy looked at him and nodded her head.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she took out the mix tape that she and Natsu have been working on and put it inside the portable CD player. She then pressed play, and stood up and walked over to where Happy was and sat down.

Natsu heard the familar beat of the song that he and Lucy have been working on, waiting for his queue. Once the intro was done Natsu began to sing,

When you're standing in the dark And you struggle to find the light When you just try to find your way But you just can't find the time I'll come for you You know that I'll save you

Lucy watched as the people were stopping their walk or whatever they were doing and turned to face the pinkette that was singing his heart out.

Who you gonna call, gonna call? Who you gonna call, gonna call? When you need somebody When you need someone Who you gonna call, gonna call? Who you gonna call, gonna call? When you need somebody When you need someone

Lucy grabbed Happy and placed him on the ground. The little cat started walking up to people with the hat in his mouth, some were generous enough to drop a few jewels in the hat since they were enjoying the performance and had to admit, the boy had an amazing voice,

When you need somebody When you need someone When you need somebody When you need someone

When the water's just too deep Getting chased by the shark When the pressure's just too much And you feel it in your heart I'll come for you You know that I'll save you

Lucy couldn’t help but smile as she watched her best friend sing to his heart’s content, he was an amazing singer and it broke her heart that he couldn’t show the world his talent. He was amazing, his music was fantastic and the songs he wrote put any professional writer to shame.

Of course, according to Natsu, those writers didn’t have his beloved to inspire them.

And who's right? Let me know I'll be there I'll be close It's your fear That we won't If this dies Be my ghost

Who you gonna call, gonna call? Who you gonna call, gonna call? When you need somebody When you need someone Who you gonna call, gonna call? Who you gonna call, gonna call? When you need somebody When you need someone

The song ended along with the tape, Natsu stopped his singing and watched as people applaud his performance. Natsu bowed and thank them as they stared to leave the park but not before they congratulated Natsu on a job well done. Natsu thanked them as he walked over to Lucy who picked Happy up and began to count the money.

“Alright Lucy, how much did we make?”

Lucy looked at Natsu before a huge grin spread across her face.

“Well my dear friend we made...$350!”

“3-350?!”

“Yep, people are really loving your performances, not that I blame them, you keep getting better and better which each song that you write and perform,” she said with a soft smile.

Natsu smiled as he took the money and counted it, once he was done he put it in his pocket.

“Well we should start heading out, Gray is probably wondering were I am,”

Before Lucy could agree with him the two heard clapping. They turned to see a short man with bright orange hair walking up to them. The man had a white suit on and looked like he just came from a very important meeting. Standing next to the man was none other than Lucy’s parents.

“You were right Jude, the boy is talented, hell I haven’t seen talent like that in a long while,”

“Mom, Dad,”

“Mr. Heartfelia,”

“I told you Ichyia, he has an amazing voice and his writing skills are simply divine,”

“So that was an original song eh?”

“Uhhh...”

“Of course it was, he even compose the beat that came along with it, didn’t you Natsu?”

Being address by Layla Natsu shook his head and snapped out of his shock.

“Yes, I basically wrote and produce this song, of course I had a little help,”

“Oh?”

“My boyfriend, Gray is usually the one who inspires the most of my songs and he’s always helping me when it comes to choosing which beats best suits the songs,”

“I see,” Ichiya said staring at the boy.

“Well Mr. Dragneel you certainty left an impression on me and I would love to hear more of you, you probably haven’t guessed it yet but I am Ichiya of Blue Pegasus,”

“Blue Pegasus?! The most successful music company to ever exist!”

Ichiya smiled,

“The very same one, and I would love it if you were a part of our team, you have a talent my boy and it is being wasted on just doing nothing but street performances. My men and I are here for the next two weeks, I hope you and I can have a meeting a schedule your future soon my boy,”

Taking out a card he handed it to Natsu.

“I look forward to your call of course I would prefer it if you called me within the next two weeks as that is the amount of time I will be here, now if you excuse me I have to go and find my men and inform them that we will be heading to the Heartfelia mansion a little earlier than expected,”

With that said both he and the older Heartfelias left the two alone.

“So what do you think Na...tsu?” Lucy looked to where her friend was supposed to be but wasn’t nowhere to be found.

“He must have ran to the bar to tell Gray the news,” she said to herself as she picked up her boombox and head towards the direction where Fairy Tail bar should be at.

Fairy Tail Bar

“Don’t work to hard you hear me Gray?”

Gray turned to see the owner of the bar glaring at him along with the co-owner.

“Don’t worry Gramps, I’m not lifting anything heavy and Juvia is making sure that I’m not overworking myself,”

“Good, the last thing any of us need is for you to get hurt,”

“Don’t worry old man, I’m making sure that he doesn’t do anything stupid,” Gray turned to see his friend, Cana walking up to him.

“Besides, he and I are on the same boat now aren’t we?” she asked as one hand rubbed her belly and the other rubbed Gray’s.

Gray just laughed as he placed his hand over both of hers.

“Yeah we are, so don’t you guys worry we’re going to be okay,”

“Alright, just don’t do anything that will bring harm to my great-grandchildren,”

“Makorav is right, I don’t want anything happening to my grandchild and their future best friend okay kids?” Gildarts, Cana’s father said.

Both Cana and Gray just nodded their heads as they went back to serving the customers.

As they served the customers everyone was enjoying the peace and quiet, not knowing that things were about to change...

A/N: Good ??? Bad ??? Should I continue this ??? Let me know ^^

#fairy tail #natray #gratsu #juvana #chendy #stingue #fraxus #jerza #natsu dragneel #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #cana #sting eucliffe #rouge cheney #freed justine #laxus dreyar #jellal fernandes #erza scarlet #gajevy #gajeel redfox #levy mcgarden #mpreg #alternate universe #famous person au #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

[arseniybashirov-blog]

Influences

I started producing music back in 2006 when no one really cared about electronic music as a whole and everything was still more underground. I was inspired by some big names in the trance scene, like Tiesto, Ferry Corsten, Armin van Buuren, Sasha, John Digweed. This was right when I started messing around with producing.

Although before all those big names, I remember my first taste of electronic music was The Prodigy. I remember I had one of their albums on a cassette tape. I was so much in love with “Breathe”, The song was so unique, very dark & full of 90′s apocalyptic grime. 

Afterwards, when I went back to my home country one summer I discovered Scooter. I remember coming back to the US with some new tapes & playing “How Much is the Fish”, over and over again on my boombox. I would just sit next to my stereo and think it was the greatest song ever.

Sometimes you got this really great electronic pop that came by once in a very short while. I remember hearing Kylie Minogue’s “Can't Get You Out Of My Head” and I knew I just wanted to hear more of that house sound. Today, you can practically hear that house bassline in all kinds of reincarnations in house, and future house. Even to this day the song has a timeless quality to it. I swore at the time it was the future, but unfortunately you would never hear anything truly like it again on the radio. 

Being of European descent. it was much easier for me to get into electronic music, because it was never really accepted in the US, especially in the early 2000′s. Either way, my early exposure to these artists made me want to make music. The more I listened the more I had ideas of my own. I ran into all the big hits at the time like Benny Benassi, Daft Punk which was on MTV2, but was never a huge fan. 

I think eventually, the most influential thing I ever listened to was Paul Oakenfold’s 2 disc“Creamfields” It introduced me to uplifting trance. It was seamlessly mixed and such a beautiful journey through some of the most incredible soundscapes of that time (this was around 2005). A lot of Paul Oakenfold’s music at around 2004-2006 was very influential & I had his songs on repeat. The Great Wall album had some incredible tracks and remixes of some very classic songs mainstream music, like “LA Woman”. 

Even though I think it’s not Paul Oakenfold (I keep thinking it is because the sound of the remix is near his style), “Scott McKenzie - If You're Going To San Francisco, (Global Deejays Remix)”, is worth a mention as a big influence & an incredible underground track.

At around the same time, and even before I listened to Creamfields I had listened to a CD mix by a local DJ, (unfortunately, I was never able to track him down as he just disappeared or stopped playing) that introduced me to what the underground scene really sounded like. Most of the music in the mix sounded a lot like Brooklyn Bounce, which I later discovered from a few tracks with the same sounds. To this day I still can’t find the intro song to the DJ set, but it is forever imprinted in my mind and I will never forget it.

I got really into the music around 2006 & 2007 when the internet was really booming and you could download almost anything you wanted. At this time I got more into big timers in the trance scene and would listen to A State of Trance quite frequently. A lot of the names that I knew already, I ended up downloading compilations from them only to expand my exposure. 

Myspace also introduced me to Calvin Harris in 2007 & even LFMAO with “I’m in Miami”. Who knew that they would later be huge names?

Another huge influence from the Myspace era was Hatiras and his label Hatrax. I fell in love with the artwork and his brand. He also made some great funky music. Eventually, I think it was 2012 that I met him for my first time playing in Boise. 

So yeah,  those were some really big influences for me at the time (aside from LFMAO which was more of just a cool coincidence), but there have been many others that were more recent.

Others mentioning are “Mojo - Lady” which is a pure classic when it comes to house music. This song gave me a huge love for house music & I found myself drifting more to house as producer. 

#edm #musicproducer #top10mistakes #producermeme #producermistakes #edmmusic #electronicmusic

[workreveal-blog]

How The Internet is Changing the Music Industry

New Post has been published on https://workreveal.biz/how-the-internet-is-changing-the-music-industry/

How The Internet is Changing the Music Industry

Believe if a crazy virus abruptly hit the world and wiped out the Internet indefinitely. It might essentially be the begin of some great apocalypse. We would not be capable of leaving our homes without Google Maps, we would not be capable of exit to consume without Yelp, and we would not understand who to go out with without Tinder. Complete chaos! The Internet has grown to be part of the way we live now, and it’s quite comical to think of the struggles we went thru for the tune, handiest a pair many years in the past. I keep in mind the instances of laying on my bedroom floor, using a cassette tape and a boombox to try and document a complete music off the radio. But the evolution of the Internet has modified the sport for musicians and has kickstarted careers for a lot of our favourite artists.

Internet media consumption

Earlier than the Net took off, aspiring musicians needed to get observed the manner – with the aid of chasing after company bigwigs with demo cassette tapes and playing at any cafe or dive bar they could locate – with the hopes that any person with a connection to the music global might be in the room. But now, the creation of the Internet has positioned the some of the strength again inside the artist’s fingers.

Social networking has introduced a modern day detail to the song enterprise, imparting a platform for impartial musicians to put up their work and build a strong fanbase. MySpace performed a significant element inside the Arctic Monkeys’ upward thrust to fame inside months in their very first gig. Lovers of the Sheffield rock band created a fan page and posted their profile and tune, which ultimately cause them to a document address Domino. Calvin Harris and Lily Allen extensively utilised Myspace to their gain on the begin of their careers. And now, on Fb, it’s even less difficult for users to find out new bands, share track and connect to artists all around the world. Viral movies have grown to be the jackpot for unbiased artists to get found through the Internet. Some Vine customers took benefit of the platform to exhibit their song, only having 6-seconds in step with video to departing a mark on fans. Artists like Ruth B. And Shawn Mendes were both discovered on the app. Ruth B. Uploaded a video of herself making a song and went from 50 to at least one,000 followers overnight – which soon after becoming over 2 million fans. For hopeful musicians, YouTube has been one of the finest merchandising tools, ever. With some clicks, artists can add movies – whether they be authentic songs or covers – and it is going to be without problems accessed to over 1000000000 YouTube customers. And the choice to embed films to put up to other websites has made it even easier to get located. Prominent artists like Justin Bieber, The Weeknd, and Carly Rae Jepsen have been found through posting YT videos. For years, Uk singer-songwriter, Sarah Near, has been uploading covers of songs using Massive names like Drake, Lana Del Rey, and Rihanna and earlier this month, she released her debut song, “Call Me Out.” And all of it began on YouTube. If she just dropped this music first, Earlier than continuously including a new cover to her YouTube library every week, might her originals garner nearly as lots attention right off the bat? Now not handiest has the Internet made it less difficult for musicians to share their track, But generating tune has emerged as extra convenient and low-cost as nicely. Artists can create makeshift studios in their homes or hire out a studio for a few days and add it to the Net inside minutes. The liberty to submit, percentage to social media, reTweet, re-publish and find out has ended up some distance too smooth. The Net is an incredibly useful medium and will hold to keep advancing. And who is aware of – quickly, the Net may be the handiest manner to get found.

The tune is an altogether modern shape of artwork that involves sounds and silence in an organised manner. It’s far very well expressed in phrases of pitch, rhythm, and fine of sound. Pitch, rhythm and sound nice are the three essential a part of any music that together includes melody, harmony, tempo, meter, articulation, timbre, dynamics, and texture.

The first-rate part of any music is that it keeps on converting with the converting generation with more than one changes within the sample and stimulus. These days, most of the restaurants, resorts and Big inns have musical clippings of the official soundtracks that play a crucial position in altering moods of the listeners.

Before exploring the improvements of technology, the track was constrained to audio cassettes, CDs, and radios. Regularly, with the appearance of the era, modern way of song assets got here into lifestyles. Song enterprise started adapting itself to the converting desires of the converting generations.

In advance nearly every person had radios, But unluckily that was Not sufficient to have fun all the pleasant musical notes that an individual wants to hear. Then the evolution shifted to audio cassettes that were exact enough to revel in the musical notes of any song But here too human beings were No longer capable of getting all the favoured notes. If they bought one cassette, it can have one track in their desire But Now not the relaxation. Eventually, the ones humans ended up taking increasingly more numbers of recordings. Later, when the CDs came into existence people were extremely satisfied with the sort of sound great and wider preference it used to supply. But, a person is in no way happy be it cash, call or even music.

Sooner or later, a Huge revolution was added inside the track enterprise with the introduction of net and Net. The largest development that Internet-delivered in the record industry is that every expertise can quickly attain its target audience without any filter out. In the olden days, wealthy capabilities used to warfare to make their voice reach their target audience. Now, those issues had been resolved.

Nowadays, Net has significantly influenced the music international each in India in addition to in the worldwide market. Some of the internet resources had been introduced to serve song lovers with a huge variety of their favourite choices and are capable of social their track aspirations. Now, people can download any quantity of songs from these internet assets. They have an opportunity to seek from an extended list this is classified underneath individual sections like singers, tune composers, films, Bollywood songs, devotional songs, old songs, new songs, pop songs and various denominations.

Furthermore, Internet has crossed all of the limitations and geographical limitations that earlier used to restrict the song resources. These days, sitting anywhere in the world, track fanatics can revel in their preferred melodies and dance to the beats. The Net changed the face of the track world, storming in like a typhoon and leaving devastation in its wake. A few argue that the music industry should have visible it coming and tailored faster, at the same time as others say it was a slight contact of arrogance, believing that their enterprise model couldn’t be affected.

Internet music industry

Below is a examine how two of the leading games in the company were affected, positively or negatively, with the creation of the sector-wide net, and how the Internet changed their once so lucrative enterprise model.

(1) record Organization

The Internet modified and immensely altered the way wherein track is advertised, sold, disbursed, and shared. It’s miles a very different surroundings to the only that existed two decades in the past.

Technological advancements have meant the dying knell for the liked “CD” with income of this layout diminishing regularly. Which means that track downloads (the general public of which are unlawful) are here to live.

Music piracy is the unrelenting undertaking facing the internet music industry These days, a hassle which they ought to meet head-on to be able to live on.

Technology which includes CD-R’s and peer-to-peer file sharing have made lifestyles indeed not possible for the record labels. The Internet modified the velocity at which song documents may be moved and transferred between human beings, making it a hopeless case on the subject of policing for the music enterprise at massive.

(2) song Shop

The track retailing landscape has completely been converted with the arrival of the Internet. The neighbourhood impartial record stores were indeed worn out, leaving at the back of the Big retail chains and supermarkets, to fight it out among themselves for the bodily marketplace.

The Internet modified the business of the favourite song retailer, and become instrumental inside the extreme popularity of a brand new participant in the market, specifically iTunes.

Nowadays this new entrant has a complete for a monopoly on the virtual music market, accounting for 70% of global online virtual track sales, and thus making it the most famous prison record store ordinary.

Internet music streaming

The “brick ‘n’ mortar” operations have needed to appearance to other merchandise to atone for the losses being incurred from the decline of the CD, that’s a direct result of ways the Internet changed the music business.

Products like video games, DVDs, technological accessories, products (t-shirts, books) are all to be found inside the music shop, a shop which once simplest consisted of racks upon racks stocked full of CDs – every other clear instance of ways the Internet changed the song retailing business.

Don’t wait until it’s too late – get to grips NOW with how the Net can fine be placed to work for you and your business. Take it step with the aid of step from the very beginning, and develop yours online enterprise strategy from there.

Don’t discover yourself in a few years from now in a defunct industry, claiming the creation of the Net modified your business.