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#embroidered keychains
tillman · 8 months
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My fucked up hand for scale anyways main reason I got this bag its maaassive for an ita bag which is so nice. Exactly what I wanted for work and such. Simple canvas but a bunch of random pockets all over im cheesed with this.
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irukasenseii · 7 months
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I bought a naruto mystery box at the convention I popped in to. Can't wait to get home and open it
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mothmeats · 5 months
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I'm taking my counseling exam tomorrow!!!! It was $275 to schedule so I Really Fucking Hope I don't have to retake it ☠️
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Ralsei fan art, from delta rune, embroidered it then made it into a keychain
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everoutoftouch · 2 years
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rovingwren · 4 months
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Finished! I have a market later this month and I am going to focus a lot of my efforts to stocking for it 😁
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artistalley · 11 months
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“Handle With Care, I’m Fragile” Keychain
Handle with Care! * 4" x 1" embroidered keychain with split-ring attachment
Love what you see? Check out more of @janet-sung's work right here on Artist Alley.
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retrogamingblog2 · 9 months
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Embroidered Pokemon Tag Keychains made by RoseGoldJelly
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bettsfic · 2 years
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writing cheats
i know i’ve probably written about these all individually but i’m putting them together in one post. these are writing tricks that are extremely cheap and dirty; when you use them it feels like cheating and honestly by posting them i’m probably exposing all the easy moves in my own work, but more than a writer i am a teacher, so here you go, some writing cheats that have never steered me wrong.
quick character creation
what’s really annoying is when you have two characters sitting at a restaurant or something and the server has to come by. to what degree do you describe the server so that it’s clear they’re just a background character but that they’re not just a faceless form, so that the world has texture without taking up too much space on the page? rule of three, babeyyy: two normal things and a weird one.
she had pale skin and blue eyes but her hair was dyed black like a 2010 emo kid.
he was tall and broad, and he wore a sweatshirt with an embroidered teddy bear on it.
the woman stood there comparing the prices of toilet paper. she had a short angled bob and carried a keychain the length of a trout.
why does it work? it gives the reader something to hang onto, a brief observation that shows the world exists around your narrator. it also works when introducing main characters, but there’s so much action going on that you can’t take time to write a rich long paragraph about them. all you need is a little hook.
quick setting creation
i used to TOIL over descriptive paragraphs. for years i was like, description is my weakness, i must become better at developing imagery. i believed this because a famous writer once projected a paragraph i had written onto a screen and asked my cohort, “count how many images are crafted in this paragraph.” there were none. none! my friends were sitting there like, “we are TRYING” but they couldn’t find any.
i would say that after years of studying imagery development at the sentence level, i am, perhaps, competent at it, but what was more helpful was for me to shrug and tell myself, “i’m just not a writer who does that.”
anyway. my cheat is thus: 
there’s not much you can assume about your audience. the audience is not a homogenous whole. but your ideal audience is something you can guess at, and that means you can play around with their existing knowledge and expectations. 
if you say your characters are in a tacky shit-on-the-walls restaurant, if your ideal reader is an american who went to restaurants during the maximalist era of franchise design, they will conjure their nearest memory of one of those places. and for those readers who aren’t familiar with it, they’ll use other context clues to conjure that space. the point is, you don’t have to list every single stupid license plate nailed to the wall. you can leave it as one detail of one sentence and let your reader extrapolate from there.
if i say the dentist’s office looked like a gutted 90s taco bell, maybe no ideal audience would have ever seen a place like that, but a lot of people can mentally conjure a dentist’s office and a 90s taco bell and overlay them together to create a weird and fun image.
you can go even simpler than that: a bathroom the size of an airplane lavatory. a tiny studio apartment with a hotplate instead of a stove. a mansion with a winding stairwell. the point is that you want to define the size of the space and its general vibes.
in some ways detailed description can be overrated, because your reader conjures images even in absence of them on the page. and for those readers who can’t mentally conjure images, it doesn’t matter anyway; they take you at your word. the trick is to figure out what details are unexpected, relevant to understanding the story and its characters, and those are the things that you add in.
one other note: after working with hundreds of writers on drafting, for *most* of us it’s difficult to develop images and establish setting in a first draft. it’s nearly always something to be saved for a second or later draft. i think it’s because while we’re writing we tend to put character and action first.
nail the landing
there’s a joke i heard once from a writer i really admire: “you know it’s literary fiction if the story ends with a character looking at a body of water.”
and god it’s so painfully sad and true how easy it is to nail the landing of a given story by ending on a totally irrelevant piece of imagery. the final beat of a story followed by your character looking up at the sky and seeing a flock of birds in the shape of a V flying past. or maybe they’re sitting in their car and they count the rings of a nearby church bell. or maybe they watch an elderly couple walk down the sidewalk hand-in-hand. i don’t know!! when in doubt shove an observation, an image, whatever, something neutral at the end and it’ll sound profound. 
(this cheat is the only one that can really bite you in the ass because if the image is too irrelevant you risk tonal incongruity. for use only in the most desperate of times.)
sentence fragments
when writers ask me how to punch up their writing or start developing their own style, my go-to advice is to give up the idea of a complete sentence. fuck noun-verb-object. if you have a series of character actions, knock off the sentence subjects like in script action. if the clause at the end of your sentence is particularly meaningful, don’t separate it with a comma but a period and make it its own thing. if your character is going through something particularly stressful or heinous, that bitch is not thinking in complete thoughts so you don’t have to convey them that way. make punctuation bend to your will!!
rhetorical moves
this one opened a lot of doors for me stylistically. remember that famous writer who called me out on my lack of imagery? i always thought his prose was beautiful, that he’s one of the best living prose writers, etc. once i learned more about rhetoric though, i realized he just employed it a lot. 
usually when we talk about beautiful sentences it means a sentence that uses rhetorical devices. the greeks were like, you know what, when we give speeches there are certain ways to phrase things that make the audience go nuts. let’s identify what those things are and give them names so we can use them intentionally and convince people of our opinions.
i love shakespeare, i really do, but one of the big reasons he’s still a household name today and his plays are still performed is because every sentence of every goddamn play utilizes a rhetorical device. the audience is hard-wired to vibrate at the sound and cadence of his writing, like finding the spot on a dog that makes their foot thump. for five hundred years, william shakespeare has been scritching that spot for us.
i have no idea why, cognitively, rhetorical devices are so effective. i’m no rhetorician. all i know is that well-deployed anaphora makes a reader want to throw their panties on stage. my intro to rhetorical devices was the wonderful book the elements of eloquence by mark forsyth, a surprisingly fun read! hopefully that will open some doors for you the way it did for me. 
the downside to this is that once you know rhetorical devices, it’s like learning how the sausage is made. on one hand, as a writer, you’ll have a lot stronger grasp of style, but as a reader good prose loses some of its magic.  
pacing it out
many writers, myself included, rely on the tried and true “he bit the inside of his cheek” or other some such random action to help pace out dialogue. one time my thesis advisor sat me down and said “you’ve got to take all of those out.”
“all of them?” i said.
“all of them,” she said.
i thought, but that will weaken the text! it didn’t. once i cut what i came to call cheek-biter sentences i never went back. and now when i edit for other people i’m like, look i know where you’re coming from but just cut all these out and see how the scene stands. if it doesn’t feel right you can put some back in. a lot of times when you’re drafting you put those in the way some people say “um.” they’re just sentences you jot while you’re thinking of what the other character says, so from a writing perspective it seems like you’re pacing, but readers don’t read it that way. they just want to get to the next line of dialogue.
but sometimes you really do need to pace out a scene and i think there are other ways to do that that don’t rely on banal physical movements, such as:
interiority: a sentence or paragraph of relevant cognition, bonus points if you weave in background context. good interiority defines the voice of your writing.
observations: i know i just said description is overrated but idk sometimes you just need a character to note the back and forth clacking of one of those desk ball toy things.
character texture: maybe your character notes something about the person they’re talking to. a wilted pocket square. a mole that looks like it needs looked at by a dermatologist. a scar on their forehead. some detail that deepens or complicates our understanding of a character.
narratorial consciousness and access
this one is less a cheat and more a problematic opinion i have that doesn’t win me any popularity in writing circles.
i believe that if you’re writing in first person or close third or any narration which is dedicated to the mind of one character, you are only ever obligated to convey the experience of that character’s consciousness. and nothing else.
by that i mean, if your point of view character is unobservant? then they’re not going to even notice the flight attendant is missing one of their canine teeth. if your pov character is focused and obsessive, they’re going to think lavish, detailed paragraphs about that which they’re obsessed with and have no acknowledgement of the rest of the world. if your pov character has no understanding of time, does your story even need to be linear?
defining the scope of a narrator’s cognition early on can give you parameters in which to work. even if you don’t consciously do this, you still do it. if you write in third person limited present tense without really thinking about it, that’s your scope. i’m just pointing out you can choose to do it differently. you get to define your narrator. 
whenever we talk about narration we also talk about information access and the order of information being revealed/conveyed. writing must always be in order; even if you’re writing multiple concurring things, it still has to be rendered on the page in order one after the next, because the human mind can’t read two sentences over top of one another. 
if we’re restricted to the mind of a character, that means we’re also restricted by their knowledge and experiences, and this can be used to your benefit. i don’t want to take too much space for this but i do talk more about the relationship between narration and reality here.
in short, you the writer get to choose 
what the reader knows,
in what order they know it, and
its relationship to the presumed real events of the story, which develops the (un)reliability of your narrator
okay going to cut this off now before i go on more rants about narrative scope. i hope you found this helpful and go on to put some of these nasty lifehacks in your own writing!!
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tillman · 8 months
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Making an ita bag for characters with little to no merch is too funny of an experience. This has taken months and its still empty as fuck. I love it. Its my pride and joy.
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asparklethatisblue · 2 months
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a lady at an event told me how, so if you know how to crochet and want to make yourself a little watermelon for whatever reason:
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Make a circle in red, white, and green. I used a magic loop, with 6 rows for red, one for white, and two for green. That depends on your yarn and how big you want to make it
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Fold it in half and crochet the edges closed. You can also use a needle to sew it shut if you prefer
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Embroider seeds in black. Done. You can attach it to a pin, or a keychain, or whatever you have available. I’ll be braiding a little thread from these yarns to attach to my bag probably
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jetpng · 5 months
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Palestinian coin pin
Dome of the Rock keychain
"Palestine" heart enamel pin
"Revolution until Victory" pin
Olive handpainted dish
Khalili handpainted dish
Tatreez embroidered box
Khalili blue hand painted dish
Tatreez embroidered pillow
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emporium · 10 months
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Does Tumblr Still Exist Keychain • $6.00 $4.00
Other social media platforms have come and gone but tumblr is still here. Celebrate the enduring legacy of tumblr with this keychain.
2.25″ diameter
Woven fabric with embroidered edge
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heiznx · 11 months
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PRINCESS ARRIVAL
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∗༝*◦✦ it's neige's first time meeting you yet he hopes you would already see him more than just a stranger or an acquaintances.
BEFORE READING, this contains light cursing, slight yandere behavior and all that goes with it.
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Neige LeBlanche, you quite dislike him.
On your first arrival to Twisted Wonderland, you knew nothing about him until you went out with some of the Night Raven College and saw it: his face on keychains, stickers on people's tumblers, and his name embroidered on tote bags.
Cater was the first to actually introduce him to you, and he did so by showing you a video that was blocked by an advertisement that featured Neige LeBlanche.
Vil was the second when he spoke of Neige during practice, and Rook described him as someone who has rose-red lips, glossy ebony hair, and an endearing smile that could charm anyone (his words, not yours).
You didn't dislike him because he did anything wrong; you were just biased because it saddened you to know that Vil sees himself as less than who he actually is.
Grim looked at you with a face expressing betrayal after the headmaster informed him that he had to stay in class while you had to fetch example materials from the bookstores near the island—you just couldn't say no.
At the moment, you were looking around, trying to recognize the place you were in and connecting it with the map in your hands; you didn't want to get lost in the unfamiliar world or, worse, taken.
You took many mental notes of your surroundings. You can see a black-haired student walking in front of you, holding hands with what you assumed was a dwarf, and there were many red-roofed stalls.
Your eyes narrowed as you tried to make out what they were selling before you heard someone loudly yelling, "Hey! Watch it!"
Now that made you even more cautious than you were since the sound was too close and it seemed like it was directed at you when it was truly for the student and the dwarf in front of you.
It was fast; you saw the student falling back towards you, and you automatically moved your map to be held by the fingers of your dominant hand before extending your hands forward.
Oh, and that you caught him.
The problem was that you didn't catch him like how the main character gets caught by the love interest; it wasn't the arm around the shoulders—no—you caught him by hooking your arms below his.
You nearly staggered, not taking the weight of the student into account as you did with the entire scenario. Your eyes caught the red text on his sailor hat that was askew and embroidered on it: "Someday My Princess Will Come", and then you noticed him staring at you.
You suddenly thought of Rook's words about how Neige LeBlache had rose-red lips and black hair as ebony; you had no idea why you looked at his parted lips like he was surprised, but it was in your line of sight.
"Neige! Are you okay?" the short gray-haired dwarf asked as you pulled up the student to his feet. "Oh…! Thank you so much!"
"It was just my impulse…" you smiled, albeit nervously. "More importantly, is your friend okay?"
The ebony-haired student hasn't moved ever since he landed in your arms earlier; you can only see his back, and not even his shoulders looked like they were moving, like he wasn't breathing.
"Neige!" the dwarf called a bit loudly.
This time, you heard the name of the person you caught loud and clear: Neige, like the actual Neige LeBlanche, the artist Neige LeBlanche.
So that's why you suddenly remembered Rook, because his description of Neige LeBlanche was accurate, and that made you try to gaslight yourself, though it was obviously futile.
"I…" your voice broke, so you had to quietly clear your throat first. "I'm really sorry if I spooked your friend in any way, but I can't stay much longer since I have errands to run for our headmage."
The dwarf looked at you, giving you a polite smile before saying, "That's alright, thank you for—"
"Or we could assist you!" Neige suddenly spoke, surprising both you and the dwarf, and it seemed like he just recently started breathing again. "Ah! I didn't mean to frighten you…!"
"No, no, it's not like that! I just got surprised," you tried to reassure him immediately since it was part of your personality. "But… are you two not busy as well? I'm assuming you two are from the Royal Sword Academy."
"Are you perhaps from Night Raven College?" the dwarf asked, to which you nodded with a small smile. "What a coincidence! You see, we are on our way to buy supplies for our props, so if you're on your way to the same place, perhaps we could travel together?"
"I mean..." you uttered as you looked down, hesitant.
You took note of how the dwarf didn't seem to hold any resentment towards you, even though you're from the other side of the island, not to mention that Royal Sword Academy was a school that your school considers their rival.
"I believe we could at least introduce ourselves; I'm Dominic," the dwarf said, placing a hand on his chest and bowing towards you as a greeting. "I'm a second-year student at Royal Sword Academy."
"I see... I'm [name]," you said, and you contemplated extending your hand, but you were already doing it before you knew it. "I'm from NRC... and... I'm a third year."
"Neige, Neige LeBlanche! I'm a third-year too!"
He immediately grabbed your hand before Dominic could, but no one could say a thing since he was smiling brightly and gleaming, and you felt yourself being drawn in for a bit—he was almost similar to Kalim.
However, you tensed a bit when Neige placed his other hand on the back of yours, sandwiching your hand as he shook it, but to be polite, you gave him an eye-closed smile and a nod, expecting him to let go in a bit.
"Neige..." Dominic looked at him, making Neige look at Dominic too, and the dwarf gestured towards his hands that were sandwiching yours.
"Ahh! I'm sorry!" Neige released his hold immediately, placing his hands behind him to try and ease your discomfort. "I zoned out, I'm sorry!"
"No... it's fine," you responded hesitantly as you looked down at your hand. "Uhm, please do lead the way, I'm still... new in this place."
"Of course!" Dominic said, trying to ease your discomfort too. "Let's look for supplies in the bookstore!"
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Neige was so nice that you just continued being wary of him since you weren't used to seeing someone that nice in Twisted Wonderland unless you were facing Kalim or Ortho.
It wasn't just his kindness and soft-spoken voice that made you feel that way; it was also because he seemed to be staring at you awfully much.
You had the supplies Crowley wanted at hand, but you find yourself wishing you could buy some supplies you've been eyeing, but alas, using the headmage money can cause drawbacks.
Maybe you should've accepted Neige's offer when he said he'd pay for what you bought, but that seems like you're taking advantage of his naivety.
Dominic was still in line, three people away from the cashier, so you engrossed yourself at the shelves where the books are, skimming through the titles and summaries.
"Do you like that book, [name]-san?"
His voice just popped out of nowhere, and you tensed a bit before relaxing yourself with your finger on top of the book as you looked back at Neige, who smiled at you innocently.
Perhaps you've grown to have a soft spot for Neige, but only a little bit—just a tiny little bit—because he was so nice to you despite only meeting you today and he was so attentive towards you; it felt overwhelming, but you weren't voicing your concerns, so you assume it was partly your fault.
"How many times are you going to ask that?" you chuckled as you pulled out the book from the shelf and looked at the cover. "Well... it has an interesting cover and title, but I'm just browsing."
You flipped the book to look at the summary on the back, your eyes scanning over it—oh, it has one of those famous troupes back in your world.
It's to be expected that there are transmigration books with long titles that have an obsessive love interest and a second lead that's chasing after the main character, who ends up with the so-called unexpected love interest.
The familiar plot is making you look back at the similar books you've read before, so you looked at the price to see if it was affordable, and to your not-really-shock, it was not.
"Didn't you want that?" he asked after seeing you return the book to the shelf after reading the summary.
"It has an interesting title and all..." you trailed off a little since you were overthinking the placement of the book a little, not sure if you got it there or the book beside it. "It has an interesting troupe that I'm familiar with, but I don't recommend it to you."
To him, who was looking at you with an innocent beam, one who can take all the words you say despite their harshness and might even see them in a positive light.
Now that you think about it, some obsessive people in what you read started off like that too; they were easily manipulated—you suddenly broke off your trail of thought because you're questioning yourself about why you were thinking about Neige in that way.
"Why not?" he asks, looking both curious and a bit surprised. "It can't be bad since you seem to be familiar with it, what is the book about?"
"It's something about—" you try to find a better word to hide the meaning of the book, so you grab the book to read it again while your mind works to paraphrase it. "The love interest likes the main character a bit more than usual."
"There are... boundaries to being interested in someone?" Neige asks, as you want to start sobbing in your mind because his tone sounded like he was completely oblivious to what you were talking about.
"I suppose it depends on morality," you said, steadying your voice as you returned the book, thinking of creating an example in which he recognizes it, but you don't want to trigger anything about him since you know nothing about him. "Let's say... someone likes someone too much to the point they cause pain to them and also to other people."
"In terms of... being too much..." Neige says, the side of his index finger near his lips, and you nodded a little to encourage him to continue, though you were digging yourself a grace in your mind. "In your own words... what is too much?"
You were taken aback. He was so innocent about the topic, and he could've asked for different things, such as why you thought the summary was interesting or why you were familiar with such a topic.
What answer should you even give to that personal question? It was opinionated, but you don't know what to say since you can't form coherent words at that moment.
"Is there anywhere you have to stop by, [name]-san?"
Dominic was back. You and Neige both looked at him, but you'll formulate an answer in your mind later because that question isn't really your priority anymore.
Your focus was on Dominic's question because it reminded you that yes, you do have something to do, and you had to buy ingredients for Vil's smoothie since his supply ran out and the cafeteria was a no for him.
"I do," you nodded a little, not noticing the way Neige lit up at your response. "What I need is near Night Raven College so I can manage on my own since your school is on the opposite... side of where I'm going."
"That..." Neige spoke first, the light in him dimming, but he remained smiling as you gave him an apologetic smile. "That's a shame."
"But it was nice to have you around," the dwarf said, to which you blinked surprised, causing him to laugh. "We hope to see you during the competition."
"And I wanted to get to know you a bit more," the other said, making you turn to him just to see him taking out his phone, and it's obvious what's going to happen next. "Could we share contacts, [name]-san?"
You hesitated because, as you think right now, you can't imagine what you were going to talk about with Neige—the Neige LeBlanche at that.
"I don't have a personal one..." you responded, growing a bit nervous.
The two blinked fast at your response, trying not to be too rude about their surprised reactions because even they have one despite their poor background.
Neige clearly remembers your words about how you weren't even from the island you're on, and he remembers how you said you were running errands for Night Raven College's headmage, who sent you out without a phone.
"That was delivered poorly..." you said after a few seconds of silence, fumbling to get out the phone the headmage lent. "The headmage lent me one, but it's not mine, so I'm not sure if I can..."
"Ah, that could work," Neige smiled, albeit calmly, as he extended his hand towards you. "May I?"
Nodding, you clicked on the contacts and handed it to him, watching as he tapped your number on his phone instead of the other way around.
"I'm surprised you don't have your own phone..."
"Ah, well..."
"I don't mean anything bad by it... What's more surprising is that it's lent by the headmage himself."
"Shit," you thought; perhaps you shouldn't have let that information slip. "It was for emergency purposes."
Neige hands you the phone back and smiles, "I'll see you again soon, [name]-san."
"Stay safe!"
"Oh! You too!"
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A frown spread on your face as you paused the music under Vil's command, looking down on the first years that tried to catch their breath from practicing too much while the second years were used to exerting that much energy.
You grabbed the towels and their respective water bottles before handing them to the dancers; to your amusement, the first years chugged it down as VIl sighed.
"Did you see that?" Vil asked, gesturing to the first years as Rook praised them despite their movements not being up to the model's standards. "Manager."
"If balance is the problem, not to assume because of their structure, but won't heels be a good training method?" you asked, looking up to the model as you tried to block out Rook's words. "The first year's posture and flow are—"
— r i n g !
Horror plastered on your face immediately as you looked away from Vil and down to the headmage's phone in your pocket, which you grabbed immediately.
After your encounter with the students from the Royal Sword Academy and knowing that Neige took your number, you've been anxiously waiting for the call, not wanting to miss it because you didn't want to be the one to call back and start a conversation.
"Take it outside, manager," Vil said, to which you nodded and scurried away immediately, making the Ace and Deuce raise a brow. "What's with that reaction?"
"Ah, well—we thought we were the only contacts the prefect had," Deuce said.
"In reference to the break before the whole competition thing, I was sure we were," Ace agreed, nodding his head as he stood up. "You know what this means, Juice?"
"We don't have time for gossip," Vil cuts in before anything else, making the first years tense up as the model held up a heel. "Wear these."
Ace stared jaw-dropped as Deuce started sweating nervously at the thought of wearing one, and Epel couldn't tell whether to deadpan or laugh at the reaction of the two because Epel was already used to it.
You answered the phone on your way out of the ballroom, just in time to see Riddle walking in with the papers in hand, his heels clicking.
"Good afternoon, prefect," the prefect greeted, his posture perfect compared to your trembling hands that couldn't even put the call on hold. "Am I allowed to enter?"
"Of course, Vil-san and the rest are inside; just don't forget to knock," you said before looking at the phone and placing it near your ear, which made Riddle get the idea that you can't talk for long. "I think you're the exact person they need to see, Riddle-san."
Your words made the Heartslabyul prefect chuckle a little before commenting, "Your mind works wonders."
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— c l i c k !
You swear that right after you were talking, the phone fell before another person from Neige's line suddenly talked about cosmetics and also before the call suddenly got cut short.
The ebony-haired student picked up the fallen phone, a red hue covering his pale cheeks, almost matching the color of his lips, before he wiped the screen of his phone.
He sees that the call has already ended, making him softly frown before he notices the notification that pops up suddenly; it was from you, asking if he was okay.
Of course he was okay! He felt more than okay, because not only did he get to call you, he also learned a bit about you, and he got to hear you laugh—and it was all in one day.
The makeup artist stared in horror, fussing over the phone that fell earlier as Neige only lightly trembled in excitement, his lips quivering as he stared at your contact that didn't have a photo or a name that fit the way he sees you.
The happiness he felt could rival the times he read R's letters or when he saw his supporters. He sighs, feeling disappointed that he heard of it through the phone and that the call also ended quickly.
He's fuming, but he had to calm down.
In your eyes, Neige was a stranger, yet you were so nice to him when you two first met, reassuring him many times that he wasn't at fault whenever he made you nervous.
Riddle did interrupt you two early on during the call, but you remained polite, even greeting the dorm leader before you made time for Neige himself.
The point was that you were nice to strangers, and there's no doubt that you'd remain nice to the makeup artist who disturbed your conversation with him, right?
"Alright, let me type something, and then we can continue with the finishing touches," Neige smiled sweetly, looking back down on his phone. "Oh, and could you get something for me in the bookstore and at the mall?"
"O-Of—"
"On second thought, I can do it," Neige cuts off immediately as he happily types. "It would have much more sentimental value that way, right? What phone model is the latest one today?"
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Neige blinked at the crying emoji, wondering what he did wrong or if it was serious; he hasn't interacted with people as much on social media, so what you send confuses him.
Did he make you cry already? Was there something wrong with what he sent you?
Nevertheless, you wished him success, and his heart warmed at that. It was probably how you normally text people, yet he yearned to make you see how he stands out in your view of people.
"I can't wait..." Neige smiles as he turns off his phone before turning towards the makeup artist. "For now, I'll work hard until you see me as someone more than someone you just met."
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THIS IS HEIZNX, this was an idea i wrote in my notebook, i stressed over the colors sm. there's supposed to be more, like the scene with deuce and epel on the beach (?) part near RSA, and yuu called for neige's help since he's famous. the relationship progressed and all, but mc suddenly stopped replying to neige, because of the book 6 events. i'm imagining vil having an interview with neige and vil brought mc along so they could apologize to neige. they were able to, but neige starts voicing his self-loathing and how he felt sad and all that, and yuu was guilt tripped to being in a romantic relationship with him.
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morganbritton132 · 1 year
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I love that Eddie is a craft guy! It just makes so much sense. Do you think he's one of those people who is CONSTANTLY doing a new craft and their house is just littered with Eddie's crafts, and he's always making little hand made gifts for Steve, the party and the band? I can totally imagine Steve coming home and the house just being in total disarray and Eddie's just like "I made a bird table and i personalised all your coffee cups :))"
Eddie Munson and the ADHD urge to start a new project before you finished the last one.
Despite Eddie’s big personality and the joy he gets galivanting across cafeteria tables and award show stages, he is very much a homebody. His favorite places growing up was his bedroom, Gareth’s garage, and the drama room where he hosted D&D. Then he went on tour and when the shows were over, he just wanted to be home.
He liked being able to strip away the Eddie Munson persona, sit down, and channel all the ideas in his head into a creative output.
Honestly, making money just made it worse. He can afford shit now.
Steve’s the opposite though.
Steve likes to be out of the house. He was a kid that lived in a big house with parents that never wanted to see or hear him, sometimes year-round sports were the only thing keeping him sane. Once Eddie made it big and was touring, Steve was once again alone in a big empty house and so he found things to do.
He meets up with Robin at least once a week to get dinner and drinks, and sometimes they go dancing or they sing karaoke. Him and Dustin meet up semi-regularly to catch up. He was a part of their neighborhood walking group before Diane annoyed him out of it. He goes bowling with some teachers from work occasionally and takes a pottery class that he sucks at. Him and Max are a part of a trivia team that has only ever succeeded at being the drunkest team in the game.
So, the combination of ‘Steve is 90% of my impulse control and he’s not here right now’ and ‘If I don’t create something, I will die’ means that sometimes Steve comes home to a new windchime or a questionably made bird house.
 Sometimes he comes home to Eddie embroidering one of his jackets by hand even though he bought an embroidery machine that he has never used. Other times, he comes home and Eddie has carved every bar of soap they had into a little fucked-up guy or he found a recorder and wants to play Steve a song.
Or sometimes, Steve returns home from the cooking class he’s taking at their local community center to beads. Beads everywhere.
Beads in the carpet. Beads on the hardwood. Beads in their shoes by the stairs. Beads everywhere.
Steve – who is pretty Type-A about their house being clean and organized because he has a shit memory and needs to be able to find things – very calmly sits aside the ravioli that he made and says, “Eddie, what the fuck?”
“I dropped them.”
Steve makes a gesture like ‘yeah, no shit’ and then just makes a distressed noise, but Eddie waves him off as he dumps a handful of beads into the good punch bowl that they use for parties, “Don’t blame me. Your cat tripped me. I nearly brained myself.”
“She’s only my cat when she’s bad,” Steve sighs, sitting down to help pick the beads up. “Why do you have beads anyways? Since when do we have beads?”
“Do you remember those beaded lizard keychains?” Eddie asks, and then when all he got was silence. “I’m going to make you one…after we pick up two thousand pony beads.”
Steve makes another noise that’s somewhere between ‘you’re causing me actual pain’ and ‘I love you so much it makes me stupid’ and Eddie grins at him. He gestures to the punch bowl and says, “Stevie, think about it. Once we fill this bad boy up, we can separate the beads by color. That’ll be fun, right?”
“…Yeah, I’d actually really like that.”
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tiredofthehumanlife · 10 days
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Our children yearn for violence
Barbie dolls: jegulus x reader (James, regulus, you)
Words: 3.6k ish
Summary: the school calls you in bc your son got into an altercation what happens when the other kids' parents are hot
Warnings: your son is named Elliot, also you're referred to as Ren and Rena like the gn term for your parent so just yk it's not an oc i promise, you're a highschool art teacher, pushing the trans James agenda, misgendering James from the principal, honestly you pour coffee all over the principal and I'm pretty sure that's assault so just yk, no consequences very fictional world, condoning violence, abortion mentioned, James is a baker and regulus is a stay at home dad/writer just so you know, modern au I'm SORRY, Lily has a wife but she isn't here Lily is just mentioned, actually kinda unwarranted meanness toward the principal but yk whatevs, kinda extremely fanficy if that makes sense but let's just close our eyes and laugh along okay, that's all I think man
Your son, Elliot, was quite kind. You weren't one to toot your own horn, but he was a pretty well raised 6 year old. He was more introverted so when he came home telling you all about his new friends you were very proud of him. He loved Lightning McQueen and he was absolutely giddy to tell you his new friend, Harry, had a Lightning McQueen backpack. And his other friend, Luna, loved Tinkerbell almost as much as he did. Elliot loved art too, he took after you in that field. You were a high school art teacher. Luckily for you the same bus that picked up the first graders for his school, also picked up from your high school. Elliot would ride the bus and after dropping off all the other students the bus-driver would  drop him off at the high school. Elliot would spend the last few minutes of the school day with your last class. They loved him, they thought he was adorable. They often made him little cards or gave him candy. Elliot was the best and nicest, if you do say so yourself, first grader you ever met.
When his school called you in the middle of your class, telling you he got into an altercation, you were shocked. You sent your class over to classroom next door, another art teacher who gladly helped you. Then you quickly gathered your things and got to the Elementary school as fast as you could. You spoke to the front desk. They pointed you down a hallway. If you were a third grader, you'd be scared shitless walking down this hallway.
Finally at the end of the row was your son. He was in a short sleeve plain red shirt and his favorite pair of shorts that has a little lightning bolt towards the bottom. Elliot's backpack was sitting next to him on the floor. He was digging his hand into a little ziploc bag of pretzels, a ziploc bag you didn't remember putting in his lunchbox. Elliot glanced up when he heard you approaching. He memorized the sound of the keychains on your bag clinking, thinking of home. He smiled brightly, and scooted out of his chair. He ran towards you, latching onto your leg.
You saw a row of three chairs, each filled with a small child, sat next to a door. The door had a small sign that read 'Princapal' so you assumed it might be the principal's office.
The child closest the the door was a girl with curly white hair tied in two pigtails down by her ears. She was wearing a shirt with Tinkerbell on it and a bright pink tutu. Her tennis shoes looked to light up. Her backpack was sat next to her. It was green and had beautiful flowers embroidered on it. She had what looked to be a thousand keychains, all of which were characters to another children's show. She was snacking on a small ziploc bag of goldfish. Luna.
Next to her was a boy. He had glasses that looked to large for his face, and curly hair that looked tossled from what you assumed was the altercation you were called in for. He had on a Spider-Man shirt and jean overalls. One of the straps to the overalls was unhooked and thrown over his shoulder. His shoes were of Lightning McQueen, they looked to light up too. They matched his backpack. That must be Harry. He was snacking on a ziploc bag of cheezits.
"I missed you, Ren. Am I going to get kicked out of school?" Elliot mumbled against your leg. You squated down and clutched onto his hands. You pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"No, baby. Why did they call me? Are you okay?" Elliot nodded as you asked him questions, holding up his bag of pretzels.
"Luna's dad gave us snacks. I took the pretzels because the cheezits are white cheddar and Harry likes those the best. And Luna likes the pizza goldfish, but I don't because they don't taste like the good pizza. But look, Rena, these pretzels have butter inside." Elliot quickly pulled out a pretzel and bit into it, showing the inside to you. Sure enough the pretzel had the fake cheese filling inside.
"Oh yeah look at that it does have cheese inside." Ignoring the fact he called cheese butter, you looked around Elliot as he continued to tell you all about his snack. You noticed two men  standing next to another water fountain. One of them was holding a green lunchbox that looked eerily similar to Luna's backpack. The other was holding a matching Lightning McQueen backpack, Harry's dad. They looked as confused as you, talking to each other quietly so their kids couldn't hear them in the near empty hallway.
"Okay baby I'm going to go talk to your friends' parents,  you go back to your chair and keep working on those cheese pretzels for me." Elliot quickly nodded. You kissed his forehead before standing up. Elliot turned back to his row of friends and started talking to Harry. You headed toward the water fountain.
Luna's dad was dressed in all black, you were curious as to how he had such a colorful kid. He was in a black button down that was tucked into his black slacks. His shoes were shiny and they made you wonder if he just came from a board meeting or whatever people who don't spend their entire day listening to your mom jokes as they teach high schoolers how to weave do. His hair was black and curly and looked to be perfectly set in place.  The only pop of color was his nails, bright green and pink splattered on each finger. Luna's doing. If you weren't deeply worried for your son, you'd say he was hot.
Harry's dad, and you do mean this in the nicest most respectful way, was fucking jacked. He was just as attractive as Luna's dad. He was in jeans and red converse. He had on a t-shirt that had red text on it. It said 'Boys with Tits' and little stars printed around the text. You wondered how strong that cotton t-shirt was because the sleeves around his biceps and pecs looked tired. Holding on for dear life. Harry's dad had what looked to be flour smeared on his cheek. His hair was also curly and black but was much different from Luna's Dad's hair as it was more messy. He looked a lot like Harry. He even had on very similar glasses. On his own Lightning McQueen backpack, was what looked to be the same number of keychains as Luna's bag had. Although his had less children's shows. You spotted a trans flag and a raccoon eating a sandwich among them. You glanced down at your own appearance, realizing you most definitely looked like an art teacher. Your hands were covered in paint. You grimaced before shrugging. One of these men had bright pink and green splattered on the tips of his fingers and the other was holding a Lightning McQueen backpack, you doubted they would care much. When you finally reached them, they both looked away from the other to stare at you.
"Hi. I'm Elliot's Parent." You gave them a light wave, giving them your name as well. They both nodded.
"Hey. I'm Harry's dad, James." you smiled at him.
"I'm Luna's Dad, Regulus."
"Do you guys know what happpened? They just said altercation on the phone." Regulus shook his head at the question. James shrugged. At this point you honestly felt sympathy for his sleeves.
"Luna won't even tell me what happened. She's just been sadly eating her pizza goldfish." Regulus said, looking between you and James.
"Oh yeah. Hey thanks for giving Elliot those pretzels. He thinks they're a hoot." Regulus shrugged at you.
"Luna's the one sharing." James moved the subject back to the whole reason you three were here.
"I asked Harry what happened and he told me 'name calling' and then continued with his cheezeits. So that's all I have." James explained. You thought you might be putting the pieces together now. Yes, Elliot was a kind boy but he was also loyal to a fault. You were both the type to self sacrifice in the name of love. You'd kill someone for Elliot and any one of your friends. Elliot does take after you in a lot of areas...
"Okay well I only see three children, they all seem to still be friends so who were they fighting?" You asked. There wasn't even another backpack sitting near the chairs. From what you spied in window to the principals office, the only person in there was the principal herself.
"Do you think our kids would actually get into a fight?" James asked. You and Regulus glanced at each other.
"Yes." You said in sync. You glanced back at Elliot. He had finished his snack and pulled out his Lighting McQueen picture book, showing Harry all the pages. Sweet boy, but also a tad rabid. You wouldn't be shocked if the principal told you he bit somebody.
"Luna's lovely don't get me wrong, but her favorite uncle has had to pay for a lot of bail." Regulus said, zipping open Luna's lunchbox. He peered in there. You wondered if he was looking for a shank she made during her art class. James huffed.
"If this is some stupid bullshit, I think I'll riot." James whispered.
"That's something Barty would say." Regulus muttered, stuffing his hand into Luna's lunchbox.
"Listen, I'm sure we're all just a little peaved because it's our kids, but surely this is something serious that truely needs me to leave 17 high schoolers alone with another teacher." James and Regulus gave you a knowing look. "Okay so I'm lying." Regulus pulled out a bag of apple slices. He held them up above his head and leaned to look around you.
"Lue, I'm stealing your apples. Is that okay with you?" Regulus yelled down the short hallway. Luna looked up from making her goldfish swim in the air, to look at Regulus. She nodded and held up a thumbs up. Regulus zipped her lunchbox again and pulled open the bag of apples.
"So what if they threw a couple punches, I taught Harry that we don't start fights, we end them." James explained. Regulus nodded as he bit into an apple. You huffed.
"I'm pretty sure I taught Elliot the difference between oil and acrylic. I'm honestly shocked he even knows the word fight." You felt a little behind on your parenting. Regulus set down Luna's lunchbox by his feet.
"Well to be perfectly honest, I am not shocked that Luna got into a fight. Her mother was, in the best way, fucking rabid. Love her to death, literally, but she got into a good number of fights while we were school." Regulus said. He chuckled after he said 'to death'. You kinda felt like he kept making inside jokes but he was the only one in on them. James nodded along.
"High school sweat hearts?" James asked, giving Regulus an understanding look.
"No," Regulus laughed as he bit into another apple. "Hell no. Um I knew her mother in high school. We were really close. She passed and I adopted Luna." You and James both let out sad ohs. Regulus didn't seemed bothered by it at all though, continuing to much on his apple slices.
"Well me and Harry's mum were high school sweethearts. After Harry was born though, we got divorced. His mum and her wife are both stuck at work so that's why they aren't here." James said, filling the awkward silence. You nodded.
"Really glad we're spending this time trauma dumping." You joked. Regulus snorted and held an apple slice out towards you. You great-fully took it as Regulus held one out towards James too.
"What is the Principal doing in there? Feeding her hostages?" James muttered not even a breath later he was following up his comment. "Sorry, that was mean." You and Regulus both laughed, looking at each other to make sure someone else thought it was funny, too. With that the door to her office opened, the Principal's head popping out.
"Sorry for the wait." She said, holding the door open.
The Prinicple would be terrifying to any first grader. She was in a perfectly pressed suit. Her perfectionism rivaling Regulus'. Her hair was back in an extremely slick bun and you questioning whether or not her name was Trunchbull. She sat down in the chair behind her desk, turning to her computer and typing away. She listed off each of your names, started with what you assumed was James' last name as he nodded at her and ending with yours.
"You should be." Regulus muttered before plastering a smile on and helping Luna out of her chair, shooing her into the office. James carried Harry's bag for him as they entered the office. The principal grimaced at James as he entered.
Elliot took his time, gently putting his book back into his backpack. You smiled at the care he took with his favorite book. Then he scooted out of his chair and pulled his arms through the straps. Elliot clutched onto your hand, as you walked him through the office door. There were three chairs sat in front of the Principal's desk. James was sat with Harry in his lap, James' arm crossed over his stomach. Regulus was sat similarly, Luna deciding not to face the Principals and instead sitting sideways in Regulus' lap. You sat in the chair in between Regulus and James. Elliot hopped up into your lap, placing his backpack next to you. He leaned back against you and held onto both your hands. You were pretty sure he was scared shitless, but you completely understood.
"Today your children got into a fist fight with another student. We do not accept bullying of any forms here so we will-" Regulus cut off the principal, pausing from digging into his bag of apples.
"Well what caused the fight?" Regulus asked. The Principal stayed silent for a moment before continuing.
"What started the fight does not matter. What matters is that your three children ganged up on one student, and beat him. We do not accept physical-" It was James' turn to cut her off this time.
"Well who swung first?" The principal clenched her jaw. She glared at James. Harry took it upon himself to answer for her.
"Charles did." Harry said as he swung his feet back and forth in his father's lap. James hummed.
"So you didn't start it?" James asked. Harry shook his head.
"One could say that he didn't start it but he did finish it." Regulus muttered chomping into an apple. You stuck your hand out to him. Regulus dropped a slice from the bag into your hand.
"Listen, if you three would please let me finish-" The principle started.
"Actually I have a question for you, Mrs. Principle. I didn't have time to learn your name, I was quite busy with my job," James snorted at you. "I was wondering, what happened before the fight? What triggered it to start? I am quite confident that my son wouldn't just beat some other kid up for fun. At least not unwarrantedly." Regulus nodded at you. Luna wouldn't kick somebody in shin just for breathing wrong, well actually.
"Again that does not matter-" Harry took over the principal's speaking time yet again to answer the question himself.
"Charles called Luna a bitch." Harry said, matter of factly. Regulus scoffed and James leaned down to ask Harry if he was serious.
"Yeah he did, so I called him a bootlicking, slimy, vomit inducing, retched, failed abortion." Luna said. You glanced over at her. It was actually the first time you heard her speak. You felt a small smile grow, understanding what Regulus said in the hallway earlier. Regulus was smiling brightly. He held his hand out in front of her. Luna slapped her hand in his, giving Regulus a loud high five.
"Then Charles said she was a dumb idiot." Harry explained, still swinging his feet back and forth. "Then Elliot said something, I don't 'member but it pissed Charles off so he punched Luna in the arm." Harry continued. You looked down at Elliot.
"I told him the only time anyone will ever love him is if he was cremated and turned into a diamond." Elliot whispered. You laughed. Elliot looked up at you, a small smile growing on his face. You gently kissed his on his forehead.
"Oh I love you, you know that Elliot?" Elliot nodded and looked back to the empty Ziploc bag he was tearing holes in.
"I would greatly appreciate it if you three would take this seriously, this is no laughing matter. " The principal said, clenching her jaw.
"Well I would greatly appreciate it if you took this seriously. A boy called this girl a bitch and then punched her and yet we're the ones who had to leave work to meet with you. It seems to me that these kids were just defending themselves. I think you just grabbed the nearest kids and blamed them. Luna didn't do anything she's the victim. Elliot and James were just protecting their friend. Sure maybe they should've gone easy on him the failed abortion comment would've been just enough but-"
"Your children broke a boy's nose."
"Well, maybe he should've kept his mouth shut." Regulus said, sitting up in his chair.
"I think he'll be too busy breathing out of it to call anyone else names, now." James said, setting Harry on his feet. James stood and swung his backpack over his shoulder before holding out Harry's.
"Ms. Potter we are not done here." The prinipal said.
"Seems to me we are, see you Monday." James said. Luna took that sign and hopped off Regulus' lap, pulling her own bag on.
"Well Ms. Potter I do hope over the weekend you find a new shirt, along with new manners." The principal said. You stood up, letting Elliot run out the door after Harry and Luna.
"Well Mrs. Principal I do hope you learn how to shut your mouth on matters that don't concern you, you foul, lothesome, grimy, bottoming-feeding, transphobe. Enjoy your night." You said. You reached over her desk and knocked her mug over. Her coffee spilled over the papers on her desk dripping into her lap. You assumed it was cold by now because she just clenched her jaw.  You gave her a bright smile and left out the office door. Regulus and James shared a look before following. You three lead your children out of the school building and stopped on the steps. The three kids ran off towards the nearby tree, attempting to climb it.
"We are probably going to have to enroll our kids somewhere else, huh?" You asked. James shook his head.
"No, schools almost out and luckily for us she's actually transferring in about a month anyways." James explained. Regulus nodded, setting Luna's bag down.
"I do mean this in the most respectful way, but that was extremely attractive." Regulus said. You heard Elliot laugh over in the tree at something Luna said. James nodded at Regulus.
"Oh yeah extremely Pilf-y." James grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Regulus turned to him with a confused look.
"Public Interest Legal Foundation?" Regulus asked. James, smile fell.
"No, Parent I'd Love to Fuck. Like milf or dilf." Regulus laughed and reached out for James. He gripped onto James' bicep as he laughed. You started chuckling along with him, his laughter very contagious. Regulus wiped at his eyes and he stood again.
"Oh that was good, James."
"I don't think it was that funny." James muttered. You shrugged.
"I thought it was good." Regulus sighed and straightened his back.
"So our kids beat another kid up." He said. You nodded. You glanced over at Harry and Luna helping Elliot climb up.
"Your kid has a filthy mouth Regulus, if she said that to me I think I'd cry." James said, nudging Regulus with his elbow. Regulus smiled proudly.
"I know, right? What a psycho first grader." Regulus said. His chest seemed to puff out a little more.
"Where did she even learn half those words?" You asked. Regulus' face fell as he stared at you with serious eyes.
"Her uncle." You and James shared a look.
"well Elliot isn't innocent either, that diamond comment was wild." James said, jumping topics. You nodded.
"I'm extremely proud of my son, I personally think they derseve some ice cream, what do you guys think?" You asked. They both looked at each other.
"Sounds good to me." Regulus muttered, Pulling Luna's bag over his shoulder.
"They'll have napkins there so I can give you guys my number." James said, winking at you both. You chuckled.
"Ah ha yeah that was smooth, James. Good one." You complimented.
"Yeah I thought so." James said, turning towards the tree and calling the kids down. You looked to Regulus.
"Oh by the way I love Luna's bag it's so pretty." You said. Regulus' ears turned red. He glanced down at his shoes before looking back up at you.
"Thanks. I actually made it for her." You gave him a shocked look.
"Did you really?" Regulus nodded. "Well you're extremely talented Regulus." Soon enough all six of you were in an ice cream shop. The kids were giddy. They were getting sticky ice cream all over their faces and hands, but it didn't matter. This was a celebration. you spent the time laughing along with James and Regulus. When the kids finally finished their ice cream James stayed true to his word and gave you both his number. He made a group chat before you even left the parking lot, starting up a conversation about a date.
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