#this came to me in a vision in my econ class | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writing-essence · 3 years ago

Text

Fear (Part 6) - Jonathan Crane

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x (female) reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Needles, Mention of Paranoia + Insomnia, Mention of sex

Summary: Jonathan meets reader’s roommate + boyfriend.

Author’s Note: Apparently I’m on a role tonight - Kelsie

Word Count: 1,913

Your talk with Jonathan eased your nerves quite a bit. You ended up sleeping that night and unfortunately through all of your Wednesday classes the next day.

“What the hell,” Chris said from the doorway of your bedroom.

You rolled over sleepily in bed, still waking up.

“What?”

“Don’t you have econ today?” She said, one hand on her hip and the other holding her bright pink flip phone up to her ear. You could hear laughing coming from it.

“Mind your own business,” You groaned, throwing a pillow at her which she easily dodged, “and tell your boyfriend to fuck off,”

“She says to fuck off,” She giggled into her phone before spinning around and leaving.

“Close my door,” You yelled, but she ignored you. You slowly got up and finally realized how long you had actually slept.

“Fuck,” You mumbled under your breath. You were already behind in econ, and this definitely won’t help.

You stumbled into the living room where Chris laid on the couch, still on the phone while the TV played FRIENDS loudly. Grabbing the remote, you turned it down, quickly earning a glare from your roommate.

After grabbing a cup of now cold coffee from the kitchen, you sat down at the bulky computer in your living room to check if your econ professor emailed you about missing class. You were surprised to see an email from Jonathan.

“Y/N, I finished the serum. I can give it to you during Thursday’s class or I can drop it off tonight if you really need it -Dr. Crane,”

You didn’t feel like you needed it as much as before now that you caught up on your sleep, but you couldn’t pass up seeing your teacher crush today. You quickly crafted a response telling him that you’ll be home all night and he could swing it by when he was able to. You ended it with your address before sending it.

“Rex is coming over later,” Chris called from the couch, flipping her phone shut loudly, “Look presentable,”

You groaned loudly and sunk down in the creaky desk chair dramatically, “I’m not getting ready for your douchebag of a boyfriend,”

“Can you at least try to get along with him,” She said, turning the TV back up, “It would mean a lot to me,”

You rolled your eyes and got up from the desk quickly.

“I’m going to get ready,” You said, passing her to get back into your room, “But it’s not for him,”

Several hours later you were stuck in an UNO game with Chris and her boyfriend. You didn’t want to hurt Chris’ feelings by never hanging out with them, but when they were together they shared a single brain cell.

“When do you say UNO?” Rex asked, examining the large amount of cards in his hands.

“When you have one left,” You mumbled, anxiously looking back at the clock in the kitchen behind you. Jonathan said he would be dropping the serum off soon, and you didn’t want him meeting Rex.

“Draw four,” Chris said confidently, placing down a +2 card.

“Can you not read?” You asked, pointing at the card in front of her.

She slapped her face quickly. A deep blush was set in her cheeks and she had been sipping on wine all night so you knew that she was a bit tipsy, but their shared stupidity was getting on your nerves.

A loud knock came from the front door behind you and you jumped quickly out of your seat to get it.

“Is that the pizza?” Rex asked, leaning over the table obnoxiously to see.

“We didn’t order pizza, we just talked about it,” Chris laughed, pouring herself another glass of wine.

You swung the door open quickly and were face to face with the professor once again. You prayed he couldn’t see the mess happening at the dining table from the door as you awkwardly attempted to take up the frame so he couldn’t see past.

“Hey,” You said breathlessly, attempting to be casual.

“Hi..” He awkwardly held out a paper bag, “The serum is in there, you should only need one dose,”

“Thanks,” You mumbled, opening it and looking inside.

“I wasn’t able to test it on anyone,” He said, watching you cautiously, “Try to keep me updated on how it’s affecting you when you take it,”

“Is it safe?”

Before he could answer, Rex interrupted from the dining table.

“Hey, do I know you man?” He yelled obnoxiously as he leaned over the entire dining table to see the front door.

Jonathan looked past you quizzically at the scene happening inside before back down at you, confused.

“Ignore him, please,” You begged, attempting to push him out of Rex’s vision.

“Hold on,” Rex said, jumping out of his seat, “You were my Psych professor last year at GSU,”

“Ah,” Jonathan nodded quickly, ignoring your attempts to push him away from the door, “Rex, right?”

“Yea man,” Rex said, coming over to where the two of you were standing, “What are you doing here?”

“Y/N is dating him,” Chris giggled from the dining table before she quickly downed another glass of wine.

A deep blush was shared between both you and Jonathan and you quickly tried to regain control over the situation.

“He was just dropping something off,” You said quickly, “In fact, he was just leaving,”

“No man,” Rex said, grabbing Jonathans upper arm and quickly pulling him inside of your apartment, “Stay and play UNO with us,”

Jonathan looked over at you with a nervous look on his face and you shook your head quickly.

“Oh my gosh yes,” Chris slurred from the table, “We were just about to order pizza,”

“Hell yea,” Rex cheered, giving Jonathan a rough slap on his back before joining Chris back at the table.

“I’m so sorry,” You quickly reached over and readjusted Jonathans suit jacket that had gotten messed up from Rex, “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, they’re just obnoxious,”

“It’s okay,” He blushed as you reached up and brushed his hair out of his face, “I have some time,”

“Yay,” Chris cheered loudly, “Do you drink wine?”

To say you were embarrassed as an understatement. You felt horrible having Jonathan now stuck in an UNO game with tweedle dumb and tweedle dumber.

“Do you have any…” Chris narrowed her eyes at her cards as she swayed in place, “7s?”

Rex handed over a few cards, confused, “Hey, how come you get to take cards now?”

“That’s ‘Go Fish’,” You mumbled, rubbing your head which was now starting to hurt, “You don’t ask for cards in UNO, you draw them,”

Chris started giggling hysterically, “I think I drank too much,”

“You think?” You mumbled, shooting an apologetic glance over at Jonathan who just smiled back softly.

“When do you say UNO again?” Rex asked for the second time that night.

“Alright,” You slammed your cards down on the table, defeated, “I’m not playing anymore, you guys are too dumb for UNO,”

Chris continued giggling in her seat as Rex shot you an offended look.

“I’m not dumb,” He said, watching as you stood up and ushered for Jonathan to do the same, “I dropped out of school on purpose,”

“You failed 5 classes,” Chris giggled from beside him.

“We’re leaving,” You groaned, leading Jonathan back to the front door.

“I’m so sorry,” You said, quickly pulling him into the hallway outside of your apartment. The dim light above you buzzed loudly.

“It’s okay,” He smiled at you again, “I enjoy spending time with you,”

You raised your eyebrows, impressed, “Are you flirting with me Professor?”

He rolled his eyes and turned away from you awkwardly as another blush spread across his face.

“Honestly I thought you wouldn't want to have anything to do with me after I said I wouldn't help with your fear toxin,” You mumbled.

“I told you, that was mostly just an excuse to get you to go out with me,” He said, still avoiding eye contact.

“We should go on an actual date,” You suggested eagerly, stepping closer towards him, “Like out to get drinks without Rex or Chris annoying us,”

“And no drugs,” He joked, finally looking back at you.

“Okay well now it just sounds lame,”

He laughed softly and you felt your heart soar. You had never heard him laugh before. You stood shocked for a moment as he fumbled to get his phone open.

“I’m not doing anything tomorrow after class,” He said, still looking at his phone, “If you’re free then,”

“I am,” You said, still watching him closely. You wanted to kiss him at that moment, but before you got the chance he shoved his phone back in his pocket and awkwardly stepped back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow in class then?” He said, offering an awkward smile.

“Okay,” You said softly, waiting for him to at least give you a hug goodbye.

“Keep me updated with the serum,” He reminded you before turning around and quickly leaving toward the elevator.

You stood silently in front of your apartment door for a moment before going back inside, disappointed.

“Did you kiss?” Chris slurred jokingly from the dining table still.

“Did you have sex?” Rex added in, earning a weak slap on the arm from Chris.

“You guys are so fucking embarassing,” You said angirly walking back towards the table where they sat, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You can’t act normal for two seconds?”

“I think we’re fun,” Chris said, a pouty look setting into her face.

“It’s not fun,” You groaned, grabbing the paper bag with the serum before leaving towards your room, “I barely know this guy. The least you could’ve done was be sober,”

You slammed the door behind you and sunk to the ground, embarrassed about the previous events. Surely Jonathan wouldn’t ever want to come visit again. It was mortifying.

You tried to stop thinking about it and quickly pulled the serum from the paper bag to examine. It was a tiny needle with a small amount of liquid inside. Your stomach dropped as you realized you had to inject it yourself. Your night kept getting worse and worse.

You took the cap off of the needle and took a deep breath before injecting it quickly into your left arm. It was immediately painful, your whole arm warming up almost as if it was on fire. You stifled your groans by burying your face into your lap and quickly fell over into a fetal position on the floor. An instant dizziness set in and you started to wonder how the serum was actually supposed to work. There was no one time medication for paranoia or insomnia. Jonathan could’ve given you poison and you didn’t even question it. In fact, you injected it yourself. Why did you trust this man so much? You just told Chris you barely know this guy and suddenly you're injecting yourself with “serums” he perscribes?

The more you thought about it the more nervous you got. He barely told you anything about his past or where he was from. He kept it all obscure. The truth was, you didn’t know him at all. Before you could panic more, the serum overtook you with drowsiness and you passed out quickly on your bedroom floor, forgetting to set an alarm for your class the next day.

70 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

Close Call

John (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope) x Reader (Female)

Warnings: SPOILERS, Swearing, Near-death scene

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Colleagues John and Y/N are stranded in the ghost town of Little Hope with four of their students. Will the two manage to save their group from the horrors the town has to provide for them? Will they both live long enough to see the next day and maybe finally come clean to one another?

Requested by @artlovingbre Hello dear! Sorry to be posting your amazing request so late, hope it makes the wait worth it. I love John, he’s such a comfort character and he needs to be protected at all costs haha. Please enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

“Are you alright?“ Shiny eyes shed a concerned gaze on him while a warm hand hold his cheek, adjusting his head to a specific angle. “Try to open your eyes, John.“ She speaks in a soft voice, guiding him back to consciousness.

His eyelids lift ever so slightly, his foggy vision not doing the woman crouched in front of his slumped body justice. He can see the worry mixed with light fear on her features. Something about the look in her eyes tells him she’s seen something that mortified her. John’s gaze clears up when he focuses on that exact element of her gaze, the one suggesting she’s not doing as well as she’d like others to think. He almost chuckles to himself at how signature of a Y/N move that is.

Y/N Y/L/N, the Business and Management professor who has recently been transferred into their college. In her early thirties, she’s only had about ten years of teaching experience but she has easily become the most liked and professor on campus. Her attitude and her teaching are basically a formula for success one can’t deny. She’s earned herself this job with a lot of work, having come from a much smaller and less-known college where she taught a class of roughly twenty people, she had to teach many other classes as well, considering she also possesses great knowledge in Economics and English Literature. She’s continued to do so, being a substitute professor whenever an English Lit or ECON one couldn’t make it, while also tutoring on the side. She has worked hard to make it in the world of knowledge and John finds her incredibly inspiring.

He met her when he was looking for a professor to cover for him while he got through the final preparations of the school trip he was planning for a group of his students. She would’ve volunteered immediately, he’s definitely certain of that, but this time around he was actually directed to her by a fellow colleague. Seeing her for the first time felt like he was witnessing a phenomenon he’s heard many people talk about but no one was sure it existed. He had heard whispers about her all over campus, she was rather popular - she had come to the college and brought a breath of fresh air with her, getting the students wondering and making assumptions about her. She carried herself with such powerful confidence, it got everyone thinking she’d be a strict, no-nonsense, stuck-up professor who asked for too much while not giving the students enough.

Needless to say, they couldn’t have been more wrong.

John has never connected to a person so quickly and easily before. The new professor was certainly something the school needed but no one could suspect it’d be someone of her rank. Even he felt he was below her and he has been teaching for twice as long as she has. There’s something so appealing about her, makes him want to never stop talking to her - if circumstances allowed for such a thing, he’s certain neither of them would run out of things to say. They have plenty in common, a lot of stories to share and a lot of advice to give one another despite him being the more experienced professor.

“What the hell was that?“ He mutters, sitting up in a more upright position.

Y/N scoffs, “You tell me. That man, he looked just like you. And....there’s no explanation for this, is there?”

They’ve just witnessed John’s double’s execution. It was a real torture to be exposed to such a horrifying scene. The death in and of itself was disturbing, but one can only imagine how the entire situation is messing with their heads - especially Y/N’s. She’s a person of logic, she likes being in the know and fully understanding issues and problems. She can’t just accept this illogical occurrence that has been happening to them all night. It’s tiring her out and driving her mad. Matters are a lot worse when you don’t know why they are the way they are or how they came to be. Knowing she functions based on this principle, John can’t help but feel bad for not being able to help her. Hell, she’s doing all the helping around here, he’s the one who blacked out when they returned from that hellish trip back in time.

Their students are surrounding them, all looking on with worry and confusion as to what they saw. These trips back in time have become common in the past our or two, they no longer question it when it happens, instead they focus on what they see.

“None as of now, but...“ He starts speaking, looking for words of comfort which are cut short when a sudden noise comes from somewhere nearby, amongst the tall grass and bushes.

It sounds like a fast movement, quickly accompanied by a growl-like sound that is enough to freeze the two in their spot while their students each took a step back, getting further away from the possible danger up ahead. John and Y/N get up hand in hand, eyes glued onto the now visibly rustling grass from which emerges a gruesome creature straight from hell. It’s not their first run-in with a monstrosity like this one - they faced the chain-bound one going after Angela; the floating, long-tongued one with it’s target on Taylor and the spear bearing one in pursuit of Daniel.

This one is his. It’s finally his turn to spin the wheel of fortune and see how likely he is to survive.

His thoughts are racing, he can hear the thumping of blood in his ears. This is either gonna be his demise or a story to tell, the two options so far from one another, so surreal. They remind him how fragile his life is. How little it would take for him to be wiped off the face of the Earth, but how much effort he’d have to put in to save himself and the people he’s responsible of. Among them, a person he hasn’t been fully truthful with this whole time...

“GO IN THE HOUSE! NOW!“ Y/N’s voice grounds him, pulls him back to reality. She shakes his arm, yanking his attention to her, “John, we gotta move!“

The thought of one of these things even daring to get close to Y/N mortifies and angers him. He doesn’t want to run from these creatures, demons or whatever the fuck they may be. He’s done choosing flight.

“I’m sick and tired of allowing them the upper hand.“ He exclaims in frustration, looking around for something to use as a weapon. “Y/N, go inside. I’ll meet you there shortly.“

His words are insanity to her. She can’t even imagine leaving him behind as he’s suggesting, but she knows arguing would be futile. Instead, she backs away without as much as a word.

The demon starts approaching, this one’s movements a lot faster and more rapid in comparison to the rest they’d faced. John is aware he’ll need to stay razor sharp to even have a chance of survival, not that there’s much for him to do against an overpowered demon moving at that speed while all he has is the old sledgehammer he finds laying nearby.

He manages to get one good swing in, pushing the thing away, earning himself some time to put distance between him and the demon, but before he is able to do so, the thing is already charging at him and has him toppling to the ground, promising to seal his fate right here and now.

A sudden hit is delivered to the demon’s head with incredible force, giving John the freedom to stand up and look to see who his savior is as they go in for another swing with what looks to be a metal pipe.

It’s Y/N.

“Take that, you piece of shit!“ She yells, delivering another blow to the head.

John runs to her side, guiding her away by the arm now that the demon is far enough away. Adrenaline is pumping through the both of them, keeping them on their feet despite the shaking of their knees. They attempt to make a run for the house, but Y/N’s movements are hindered by the chain that wraps around her calf, yanking her back and onto the ground.

John wastes no time rushing to her aid, using the sledgehammer to free her from Angela’s demon’s grasp and pulls her to her feet. This time, the run to the house is successful. They make it inside, mildly harmed, out of breath and with rapid heartbeats. And with their lives, of course. Surprisingly, they made it in with all their limbs and their lives. That has to count for something.

“You suck at following instructions, don’t you?“ John asks Y/N after they briefly catch their breath.

She chuckles, holding the wrist she sprained when manning the heavy metal pipe as a weapon, “No, I just protect the people I care about. You should know what that’s like.” She bumps his shoulder with her, sending him a warm smile.

He sure knows what it’s like.

* * *

It’s all over. They are safe, back on campus. Shaken up, bruised and traumatized but alive and safe from any physical harm. For the mental torment they will be helped by professionals, friends and family. What matters is that they’re alive.

“Hey, um, I never got to thank you for saving my life back there.“ John hesitantly approaches Y/N once each student is picked up by someone from the school parking lot, presumably to be taken to a hospital. The two of them can’t go anywhere before they take responsibility for what happened.

Y/N grins at him, her tired eyes shining in the late morning sunshine. “I couldn’t leave my favorite colleague to die now, could I?” She laughs, placing a hand on his shoulder, “And thank you for saving my life.”

He returns her smile, covering her hand with his, “Couldn’t let you die on your first school trip, could I?”

She laughs again, shaking her head in what appears to be disappointment, “First and last. I bet I’m getting fired for this.” She looks down at her shoes, digging them into the pavement.

“Hey.“ He gives her hand a squeeze, grasping her attention causing her to look up at him and meet his warm gaze, “I won’t let that happen. I promise.“

Y/N sighs and nods, exhaustion radiating off of her, “Alright, I trust you. Let’s just get it over with, shall we?” She tilts her head towards the entrance of the school.

Ok John, now or never. Just spit it out

“Um, Y/N?“ He says her name questioningly, causing her to turn to fully face him, “Would you maybe want to head to lunch afterwards? I completely understand if you’d prefer to be alone, but if you want some company...“ He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck, nervous as all hell. That’s really telling, considering they just escaped hell.

He resists the urge to close his eyes and cringe at how hesitant and awkward he sounds. Where is that bold side of him that wanted to fight a demon earlier?

“Sure, John. I’d love nothing more. Lord knows company is just what I need right now. I’d hate to be alone, I think I might lose it.“ Her response accompanied with a slightly shy chuckle sends an overwhelming wave of relief crashing down onto him, allowing him a sigh.

Sometimes, as John would learn, going through hell may be worth it when you consider the aftermath.

A chance with Y/N is his aftermath, and it just about makes the hell of Little Hope worth it. He’s yet to find out for certain though.

@sparrow-gg @megandaisy9

27 notes · View notes

ellewritesathing · 4 years ago

Text

So Close - S.S. XLVII

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 47

Word-count: 6.3k+

A/N: apologies for disappearing friends!! i’ve finally finished writing all the parts for 6a so i should queue them up for regular content again soon (also i’m pretty sure i’ve used this gif before but don’t mention it)

Sleeping had always been tricky for you, but after everything you’d seen and all the sacrifices you’d made protecting Beacon Hills, sleep was either short and dreamless or long and full of nightmares.

That night, you dreamt of Stiles.

He was always at the edge of the picture, just out of your view, but you knew it was him. His laugh, his voice, his silhouette. The way the light caught on his hazy figure and sometimes you could just make him out before he disappeared completely.

He always disappeared, but he always made you promise to find him, and you always did. Stiles was starting to fade into the distance again when the alarm tone rang out. It tore you away from him, but not before his hand caught yours and he said, “I can feel you forgetting me.”

The alarm tore him away from you before you could promise to remember Stiles one last time.

When you were sure you couldn't dream of Stiles again, you pulled yourself out of bed and forced yourself to get ready for school. You were already on your second cup of blood-spiked coffee when Mason, Corey, and Liam showed up. You crapped them out for trashing your house but it was largely just to get a laugh and not because you were angry with them. This was the first morning that you weren’t angry, just empty.

Scott broke up your fun before you could get anything really good out of them, and then he asked what Liam wanted to show you guys.

Liam took you to the living room and pointed up at the ceiling where a dark stain rested. There was a dark spot in the center and black tendrils snaking outwards. Definitely not a water stain; it looked almost like tree roots.

“That’s how he got in?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, but what is it?” Liam asked. He looked away from the ceiling to gauge Scott's reaction.

“It’s a Lichtenberg figure,” you said, still staring at the long tendrils that seemed to reach out for something. An image flashed through your mind: these same tendrils snaking up a neck, unusually dark against the pale, sickly skin. Tearing yourself away from the Lichtenberg figure, you folded your arms around yourself. “They, uh- they’re common in lightning strike victims.”

“You knew someone who was struck by lightning?” Liam asked. You felt his eyes on you and curled in on yourself even more.

“No, I-” You shook your head and sighed. “I think so, but I'm not sure ... I don't know.”

“Stiles,” Scott said when you couldn't. You nodded at him and he gave you an encouraging smile in return.

“You can also usually find charred spots like this on the ground after a violent thunderstorm,” Mason said, blissfully unaware of how crappy you felt and continuing the lightning-related thought process.

“So that’s how the Ghost Rider got in,” Scott said. He looked away from you and back to the Lichtenberg figure on the ceiling. “He rode the lightning.”

Liam caught your attention in your peripheral vision. “If they can use the lightning to get past the mountain ash … no place is safe.”

“What about the others?” Corey asked. He sounded panicked. “It’s my fault they’re marked.”

“We’ll find a way to protect them,” Mason said quickly. He looked over at Scott and Scott looked over at you.

“And we’ll find a way to get the others back,” Scott promised.

One of your phones went off and scared the rest of you out of your stupor. You promised to reconvene later on, and split up to head to school. No matter often it happened, it was still jarring to discuss the supernatural special of the week over breakfast and then have to sit through econ and pre-calc.

Still, your friends found you between classes and it was back to piecing together a way to defeat the big bad. Today, it was relics. Specifically, a student ID card belonging to a sophomore named Jake Sullivan.

“Wait, what’s a relic?” Malia asked.

“An object with a fixed associated to the past,” Lydia said. As she spoke, you twisted your signet ring on your finger. It was a nervous habit that you'd picked up whenever you couldn’t turn the Feliscore Arcade coin over itself. “Jake’s ID was left behind after he was taken, and Gwen found her sister’s bracelet on her bedroom floor.”

“How can someone be erased and still leave something behind?” Malia asked.

“A conservation of mass,” Lydia explained. She was incredibly patient with her explanations considering how near-constant they were. “The total mass of any isolated system remains constant.”

“So, even the Ghost Riders have a weakness?” Scott asked.

“And a relic would be proof that Stiles existed,” Malia said.

“And that we can bring him home,” you said, sounding more hopeful than you'd meant.

“Exactly,” Lydia said. “And I think I can find one, but Noah and Claudia-”

“I can take care of Noah,” you said. “Give me the ID and I’ll go talk to him, but I think you should go looking while I do.”

The bell rang and you had to split up, but you and Lydia texted until you settled on a plan. It was a shaky plan, but you needed to talk to Noah and Lydia needed to do her Banshee magic to find something that belonged to Stiles.

So, hesitantly, you borrowed the car from Scott after school and drove yourself to the station. Once you were there, your hand hovered over the key. Once you went in there, everything would change again.

You yanked the key out of the ignition and headed to Noah’s office.

Your explanation of relics was shaky - Lydia could have done it much better - but Noah followed along for most of it. There was only one thing that he was caught on.

“You want to search my house?” Noah asked.

“Yes,” you said. “I know it’s crazy, but if there’s any chance that Stiles left anything behind …”

“Why would it be there? At my house?” Noah asked.

You took a deep breath and looked down at your hands. The light caught on your ring. “Because I heard what Elias said after we left, and my house has really thin walls,” you said quietly. Noah looked confused, so you went on, “I heard what you told Scott about-”

Noah pushed the case file in front of him away and leaned forward in his seat. “About my dream?”

“About your memory.” You looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Please. The worst that can happen is that Lydia doesn’t find anything.”

Noah sighed and rubbed his face. “She’s already at my house, isn’t she?”

“Got there five minutes before I walked in,” you said.

“Dammit, Y/N!” Noah shook his head. “This is just typical. You and Stiles are always-” He stopped dead when he realized what he’d said. He sighed and put his head in his hands.

You pulled one of his chairs closer to the desk and put your hands out for him to hold if he wanted to. “I do it, too, sometimes,” you said softly. “I tell jokes that people don’t understand because they weren’t the ones I shared them with. Whenever I buy food, I buy a pack of Reese’s even though I don’t eat them. Seriously, you- you should see the stash I’ve got. They’re pouring out of my loose floorboard.”

Noah laughed. He pulled his hands away from his face and gave you a sad smile. “You know, last night I couldn’t sleep so I got up. Figured I’d do some paperwork. The files were in the back of my car so I- I went to the garage, and some junk had fallen off a shelf and I stubbed my toe on an old baseball bat. Without thinking, I yelled a name …” he took a deep breath. “Stiles.”

You smiled at him, trying to shove down the tears that threatened to spill. “The other day, Malia wanted me to promise her something, and I said ‘no matter what’ without thinking about it. She didn’t know what it meant but I knew that it was because it was something he and I used to say to one another.”

“Stiles,” Noah said.

“Stiles,” you repeated. “I’ve never actually said his name until now. It felt too, I don’t know-”

“Real,” Noah said for you. You nodded and he sighed again. “And that’s why you’re so determined to find something.”

You tapped the desk a few times as you answered, “Determined to find Stiles. This is just the first step.”

“Okay,” Noah said. He slid the ID back over to you. “Okay, Lydia can search the house.” Then he laughed. “Even though she’s already doing it.”

“Thank you.” You took the ID back and put it into your wallet. Somehow feeling more uncertain than when you came in but still comforted, you said, “I’ll get out of your hair now.”

“Wait, do you- do you maybe want to grab a cup of coffee?” Noah asked. He looked awkward. “I mean, if you have the time.”

“I’d love that,” you said.

It was an awkwardly lovely coffee date. Noah knew the ending to some of your jokes, and you made his coffee the way he liked. Although you didn’t explicitly talk about Stiles, you talked about your grades and the diet he had to go on to help manage his cholesterol, how Mel was doing at work and life at the station. It felt like you’d been doing this for years. Just catching up.

But then your phone buzzed and you had to go help Scott track down Gwen. Even after apologizing a dozen times and Noah assured you that he understood, you still felt guilty as you left him there with two empty coffee cups.

You rushed to the school, listening to Mason’s hasty explanation of how Gwen snuck out of the bunker and Okafur, Steinbach, and Wallace were never in the bunker to begin with. He needed to figure out a way to stop the Ghost Riders and your job was to try and keep him safe until he did.

It wasn’t that hard, considering that nothing was happening aside from the team getting absolutely destroyed on the field.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Mason cheered as one of the players got knocked down to the ground. Everyone around you got mad at him but you tugged on his sleeve to get to sit with you again.

“Hey, what did you realize, boy wonder?” you asked in a low voice.

“The night of the party, Parrish showed up. The Ghost Rider seemed … scared of him, I guess,” Mason said. “And then I remembered the mural.”

“The Hellhound fighting the Beast,” you said slowly. “You think it’s related?”

“It has to be,” Mason said. He sounded more confident than before. “The Hellhound’s a harbinger of death and these guys … I mean, it has to be connected.”

As if on cue, thunder started rolling in the distance. Ignoring the pit in your stomach, you said, “Find Hayden and tell her to call her sister. I’ll make sure nothing happens here.”

Mason dashed off and, after a few minutes of alone time, the wind started picking up. Then the light rain. When the lightning cracked overhead, your eyes darted across the field.

Scott was staring at the sky. He pulled off his helmet as the light rain turned into a downpour. You raced onto the field as players started taking cover. Corey yelled that the Ghost Riders were there, but you couldn’t see them.

The ref was trying to get everyone off the field as you huddled the players together.

“Okay! We’ve got all three, right?” Scott asked.

“Scott, there were four,” you said. Both of you turned to count but you still only came up with three players: Gwen, Okafur, and Steinbach. You saw Scott grab Corey’s hand and did the same. You couldn’t kick the Ghost Riders’ asses until you could see them.

Your grip tightened as you watched one of the Riders drag Wallace off the field as he screamed for his life. Then he just disappeared into a small cloud of green smoke.

“Oh my god!” Okafur yelled. “They’re real! We’ve gotta get out of here!”

“Stay together. We’ll protect you,” Liam promised. He wasn't as confident as Mason had been.

“How?” Gwen asked.

You followed her eyes to the quickly approaching group of Riders. There were just three of them but you knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against them. Scott told you all to run but the second you did, three more Riders showed up to block your path.

“Stay close!” Liam yelled, pulling the players behind him.

It didn’t help. They shot Okafur and he disappeared, just like Wallace.

Corey moved out of your grip but you could still see them. So could Scott. As one of the Riders readied their gun, you weren’t entirely sure whether seeing them was a good thing or not.

Liam tackled him before he could shoot but it was just an inconvenience for the Rider. He kicked Liam off of him. Scott jumped forward to protect him, but as soon as he moved another Rider shot Steinbach. He was gone.

“We can’t stop ‘em! Protect Gwen!” Scott bore his fangs at the Riders.

You did the same but you were so focused on the Riders that you didn’t notice Gwen slipped past Corey. The Riders shot her and she disappeared. In a few seconds, the Riders were gone, too.

The four of you stood in the field until the rain stopped, none of you managing to say anything.

“Hey,” you said to break the silence. The rain was clearing up. “Let’s go find Mason and Hayden. He might have an idea on how to end this.”

They nodded and you rushed back to the school. Mason and Hayden were fine. Parrish didn’t fight the Ghost Rider but it left them alone before disappearing just like the rest of them.

“Everyone from the bunker has been taken,” Scott said as he got off the phone with Malia.

“Everyone? How?” Mason asked.

“It doesn’t matter how,” Scott said. “Malia’s at the hospital and Argent’s been hurt. My mom’s with them.”

“I’ll go check on them,” you said. Looking over to Liam and the others, you added, “You guys get cleaned up, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Scott said with a nod.

You found Lydia at the hospital before you found Malia or your mom. She told you about Claudia’s frontotemporal dementia and how it should have killed her by now and you caught her up about the Ghost Riders taking everyone from the party.

The two of you found Scott and Malia before either of you got to talk about Stiles.

“Tell us you found something,” Scott said.

“I found out Claudia never had children,” Lydia said, dropping her eyes for a second. “So, Stiles can’t be her son.”

“What about a relic?” Malia asked.

Lydia shook her head and you looked down at your hands. You twisted the ring on your finger, so sure it was connected but not sure enough that it could be a relic. Tied to him, maybe, like Noah was. But not something that belonged to Stiles.

“There never was a Stiles, was there?” Malia asked, as gently as she could.

It was quiet. Scott broke it by saying, “It doesn’t even sound like a real name.”

“We have to keep looking,” Lydia insisted. Her voice was urgent - the kind of urgency she only got when something was driving her supernatural Geiger counter crazy. “Check the school records again. Or call your dad-”

Malia shook her head. “No, we’re fighting the wrong battle.”

“No, we’re trying to find Stiles,” you said defensively.

“The Ghost Riders came back and we still have no way of stopping them. Whatever they are, they’re real,” Malia said. She was one of the best friends you’d ever had, but she was also cold and fixated on survival. You understood, mostly, but right now it was annoying. “We can’t keep chasing someone who isn’t.”

“Maybe he’s not real to you, but the rest of us actually give a damn,” you snapped. There was a time when you would have felt bad for snapping at them, but this wasn’t the time to feel bad. This was the time to find Stiles.

“Y/N, he didn’t leave anything behind,” Scott said gently.

“Just us,” Lydia said, seeming hollow as she looked up again.

You shook your head and started walking away from them. “This is unbelievable,” you mumbled.

Malia grabbed your arm before you could get very far. “Where are you going?” she asked.

You spun back around and pulled your arm away from her. When you were this upset, her touch burned. “To call Isaac and Cora since you guys don’t care anymore,” you said.

“No one said we didn’t care, we just-” Scott stopped, unsure what to say. “We just can’t keep losing people.”

“I’m not losing anybody else,” you said. “I’m finding him, Scott.”

“Then let’s do it together,” Lydia said, grabbing hold of your hand. Her touch was cold, but it still burned. She gave you a smile and looked back at the others. “Please?”

Malia was reluctant. In the wild, coyotes didn’t have time to track down imaginary best friends. Still, she looked over at Scott before she told you that you were out of your mind.

Taking a deep breath, Scott looked over at you. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll keep looking.”

---

It turned out that while your definition of ‘keep looking’ meant that you’d skip school the next day and get together as a group to discuss everything, Scott’s definition was to go to school and act like nothing happened. In an effort to be slightly less confrontational, you’d gone along with his plan, but it didn’t make you happy.

As hard as it was to believe by your scowl at Scott’s goofy smile when he dropped into the seat across from you at lunch, there was a time not too long ago when you would have at least tried to hide your bad mood from him.

“Get an A on that psych paper?” you asked, stabbing your food with a fork.

“No. Well, A-minus but that’s not the point,” Scott said as he shook his head. He took a breath and leaned forward. In a fake whisper, he explained, “Lydia found something. Malia’s already checking-”

You pushed your tray away and grabbed your bag. “Then why are we sitting here? Let’s go.”

Scott laughed and led you out of the cafeteria and to the parking lot. At first, he didn’t want to explain where he was taking you because he wanted to see your face, but - after some threats to tell Melissa about how the car got that scratch on the bumper - he finally told you about Lydia bribing the tow truck driver. He stopped talking when you reached a powder blue Jeep.

Your heart ached as you tried to remember something, anything, about the Jeep or the person who owned it. You tried to remember Stiles.

When no memory presented itself, you said, “Well. This Jeep isn’t going to search itself,” and pushed past Scott to get to the Jeep.

It wasn’t filthy, just a little dust-covered inside and pollen-coated on the outside. To add to the abandoned feel, the radio was stuck on the wrong frequency and only played static. Ignore how wrong it felt for the Jeep to be like this, you opened the glove compartment and found a red rag, some take-out receipts, and a map of Eichen House. The radio cut out and you froze.

“Why’d it stop?” Malia asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lydia said. Despite her rough tone, she flipped the Master Switch on and off four times before saying softly, “But there has to be a reason.”

Because he was incapable of sitting in silence for more than three seconds, Scott started sniffing. Loudly.

Turning in your seat, you asked, “Did you catch a scent or a cold?”

“A scent,” Scott said and shook his head in an attempt to focus. “Ours. Mine, yours, all four of us.”

“Mine? I’ve never been in this Jeep before,” Malia said, sliding forward in her seat in the back.

Scott shrugged. “Neither have I.”

“Yes, we have,” Lydia said. “We just don’t remember it.”

Malia tilted her head to the side. “I thought we were done with that.”

“You literally promised me last night that we wouldn’t give up,” you said, doing your best not to glare at her.

“No, Scott promised you. I didn’t promise anything,” Malia said.

“Mal, could you for once in your life try to understand when something is important to someone?” you asked. You didn’t mean for the words to come out as harshly as they did, but they were out there and you couldn’t take them back now. You took a deep breath and looked away. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. Can we please just keep looking?”

“I don’t know if there’s anything to look for,” Scott said. “Parrish checked the VIN number and there’s no record of an owner.”

“The Jeep didn’t just drive itself here,” Lydia argued.

Scott looked over to Malia with his ‘they’ve got a point’ face. It reminded you of an argument with Isaac back when he thought the twins were the ones killing people instead of the Darach. You couldn’t remember who the other person in the argument was, so you guessed that meant it had to involve Stiles.

“Oh, whose side are you on?” Malia asked exasperatedly.

Scott looked at you, then he looked at Lydia, and then Malia, and then back at you again. “I’m on everyone’s side,” he said eventually.

Malia and Lydia started arguing over whether or not Stiles was real again, so you continued your search of the glovebox to help tune them out. Your hands froze over the Jeep’s registration papers.

“Guys, I think I found something,” you said, not caring what you might have interrupted. You unfolded the paper and leaned closer so Scott could read over your shoulder. “It’s from 1996.”

“But there’s no name,” Scott said.

“Yeah, but look at the address,” you said. “It’s Noah’s.”

---

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Claudia said after reading over the Jeep’s registration papers. “I haven’t seen that Jeep in … almost eighteen years.” She looked over at Noah for confirmation and he nodded slightly.

“But it’s in your name,” you said. “You never went looking for it?”

“It was stolen.” Claudia shrugged. She was either a very good liar or she really didn’t know anything.

“Then how did it end up at the high school?” Lydia asked.

Noah shook his head and opened his hands. “Beats the hell out of me,” he said with his trademarked sigh. “I mean, that thing was a junker back in the day. God only knows who’d want it now.”

Something about how flippantly Noah talked about the Jeep tugged at your heartstrings. “Someone with a sense of whimsy?” you asked with only a touch of your usual venom.

“I- I guess,” Claudia said with another small shrug. “I don’t know, girls. Maybe somebody dumped it there?”

Stiles would never abandon the Jeep, you almost screamed. You let out a low growl that reminded you uncomfortably of Malia and took a breath to recover.

Lydia set an uncertain hand over yours to calm you down. She turned back to the Stilinskis and asked, “Is there any way to trace the history of the Jeep after it was stolen?”

“No,” Noah said, frowning at the idea of how that would even be possible.

“Can’t you check for fingerprints at the station?” you asked.

Claudia looked over at Noah and shifted slightly closer to the edge of her seat. Noah met her eye and sighed again. “Is this about Stiles?” he asked.

“Can you please just check the Jeep for prints?” you asked, doing your best to keep your voice even and detached.

“Don’t you girls think you’ve taken this far enough?” Claudia asked. She reached out for Noah’s hand as she asked, but it seemed less like a move of solidarity and more like a reminder that she was there. She handed the registration details back to Lydia with her other hand. “I don’t really know what’s going on with you lately,” she said to Lydia, “but maybe it’s a good time to talk to your mom.”

Instead of telling Claudia that she was way out of line, Lydia just pulled her hand away from you, dropped her gaze, and nodded. “I’m sorry. You’re right,” she said quietly. She looked up again and flashed Noah a bright, dishonest smile.

“Hey, are you okay?” Noah asked.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Can you just …” Lydia shook her head. You knotted your hands together to keep from reaching out to comfort her. “Um, do you mind-” she pointed to the hall where the bathroom was.

“Of course. Take your time.” Claudia nodded. She didn’t even make it through her sentence before Lydia was on her feet and heading down the hall. Shaking her head, Claudia turned back to you. “You’re a good friend for being there for her, but be careful not to encourage Lydia too much,” she said. “You know how unstable she can be.”

You swallowed hard to keep from snapping at her. All you could bring yourself to say was: “Lydia’s a genius.”

“There’s a fine line between genius and insanity,” Claudia told you with a heavy look.

You’d been squeezing your hands together tightly to keep yourself grounded, but Claudia’s words made you squeeze so tightly that you could smell blood. “I’m going to go check on Lydia,” you said as you rose to your feet.

Noah called out to you but you told him it was fine and kept walking. You could hear him and Claudia whispering after you left; he thought she was too harsh on you guys, she thought you needed someone to stop enabling you, you stopped listening when you found Lydia slumped in the hallway crying.

You knelt in front of her and fumbled for her hands with one hand and cupped her face with the other. “Hey. Hey, Lyd, you’re okay,” you said gently. “We’re gonna find him, okay?”

“How?” she asked, voice tight through the tears. Her eyes darted down the hall. “How are we gonna find him?”

You faltered. A beat passed and you knew whatever you said next would sound fake. “I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know, but we’re going to find him. I promise we’ll find him, alright? No matter what.”

Lydia went still for a second. “No matter what,” she whispered. It sounded like a question when she said it. “Why are you saying that to me?”

“I don’t understand,” you said, pulling back slightly in surprise. You suspected the saying had something to do with Stiles, but you had no proof and it wasn't like Lydia could tell you anything for certain. “Why does it matter?”

“Because it does,” Lydia said. She looked down the hall again and squeezed your bloody hand. “We need to go. Now.”

Lydia didn’t wait to answer any of your questions. She pulled herself up and basically dragged you out of the Stilinski’s house, apologizing for the intrusion and thanking them again for their time as if they’d actually done something helpful.

Once Lydia had safely buckled you into the passenger seat, she started the engine and pulled out of the driveway at such a speed that you were sure Noah would call you about the tire tracks. She explained, briefly, that she was having one of her feelings and you needed to get back to the school. To the Jeep.

You didn’t argue. You never argued with Lydia’s feelings, especially not when they had anything to do with Stiles. She seemed to be the only person who still wanted to find him, and you trusted that together you and she would find him.

It’s not that you expected to find Stiles sitting in the Jeep when you got to the school - even if a tiny piece of you hoped you would - but you weren’t expecting to find a tow truck driver trying to shake down Scott for more money.

“-Now I’m picking it up again,” the tow truck driver said as you and Lydia ran up to them.

“How much do you want? I’ll write you a check,” Lydia said.

“It’s not about how much. They want it out of here, okay? So it’s not up to me,” the driver said. He moved closer to the Jeep to attach it to his truck but Scott stepped in his way. Scott had never seemed intimidating to you - a byproduct of seeing him laugh so hard that milk sprayed out of his nose when he was five - but he looked intimidating at that moment. “Don’t make me move you, kid, okay? I’m hooking this thing up. And I am towing it away.”

Scott clenched his fist and you got ready to intervene, but Malia broke off a piece of the tow truck before anything escalated that far.

Malia handed the broken connector to the tow truck driver. “Your truck’s broke,” she said.

After some particularly nasty words, the tow truck driver stormed off and left your friends laughing in his absence. It was only a few seconds of laughter, but you felt a little lighter after a win - even if it was a small win.

“So what now?” Scott asked.

“I mean, he’s probably just going to come back in the morning,” you said. You looked at the Jeep over your shoulder and sighed. It looked so impossibly lonely in the dark parking lot. “Do you guys want to stay here for a while?”

“No,” Malia said, at the same time Lydia said: “Absolutely.”

Scott got that awkward look on his face when he had to choose between his friends. “Five minutes?” he suggested. “Just to make sure no one else comes back.”

“Fine,” Malia said begrudgingly. “But I’m not sitting in the back.”

“Deal!”

You and Scott sprawled into the backseat while Malia took the passenger seat and Lydia sat in the driver’s seat. Sitting behind the driver’s seat like this, you could almost picture Stiles sitting there. He always sat there, except when something was incredibly wrong or the time when he taught you to drive.

The memory of learning to drive was still fuzzy and disjointed in your mind, but that’s how you knew it was him. Stiles was in so many of your memories that without him it felt like your whole life was fuzzy.

You were still trying to piece together the fuzzy memories when a roar tore through your ears. A strained, agonizing roar. Whoever that roar belonged to was dying. You bolted out of Scott’s arm and clambered over him and the seats to get out.

“Did you hear that?” Malia asked. She’d been too uncomfortable in the Jeep after a few minutes so she'd stood guard outside.

“I think all of Beacon Hills heard that,” Lydia said.

“Who is it?” Scott asked.

“I’m not sure, but I think I recognized it,” Malia said.

Despite the very distinct and unexplained feeling that Stiles was human, Malia’s recognition sent electricity down your spine. “Let’s go find out,” you said, looking over at her for a second before taking off towards the preserve.

Finding whoever roared was clumsy. There was no scent and they hadn’t roared again since. You were still looking for the injured wolf when you tripped over the burnt body. Despite your badass shadow-wolf status, you screamed and scurried to your feet.

They let out a roar in response to your accidental kick to their ribs and you dropped next to them to check that you hadn’t just killed them. From the second you focused on them, you knew that it wasn’t Stiles.

“Hey, you’re okay,” you said gently. You reached out for his hand to take away their pain. Their hand wouldn’t open so you moved to their arm and started taking away their pain from there.

It hurt so much that you didn’t even notice that Malia and Scott got there until Scott put his hand on your shoulder and the burnt werewolf grabbed Malia’s arm. You pulled your hand away so fast that you took bits of burnt skin with you.

“Peter?” Malia asked.

He struggled to say something but nothing came out.

“Who’s Peter?” Scott asked.

“Peter Hale,” Malia said, not looking away from the burnt werewolf. He struggled again to say something. “My dad.”

“Your dad?” you repeated. Your voice ached from taking away his pain. “Peter Hale. That makes him Derek’s brother. I don’t- how could I forget Derek’s brother?”

A distorted voice broke through your internal crisis. “You were my beta first,” Peter forced out. His voice triggered something in Scott; a memory, you guessed. You didn’t remember anything.

Scott stuttered out Peter’s name. “He bit me,” Scott said. “How could I forget him?”

“How could I forget him?” Malia asked.

Peter looked more pained with the knowledge that Malia had forgotten him than when you kicked him. He looked heartbroken. He craned his head to nod at his hand.

“I tried to get his hand open but I didn’t want to break it,” you said quietly, moving around to try and see what Malia would find.

Scott took Peter’s pain away as Malia pried open Peter’s palm. Between the three of you, Malia got whatever it was and lifted it up.

A set of keys.

Stiles’ keys.

You snatched the keys from her and started running before either of them even had the chance to say anything. Nothing they could say could stop you from trying those keys in the Jeep, because you knew they were the key to more than just the Jeep. They were the key to bringing Stiles home.

Malia tackled you to the ground in the school parking lot and Lydia almost lost a hand trying to break you two up. Once again, the four of you piled into the Jeep, but this time you got in the driver’s seat.

Now that you were sitting there, key still clutched in your hand, you almost couldn’t bring yourself to try it. What if it didn’t work?

With an uncertain breath, you put the key in the ignition and turned it on. The engine sputtered. This wouldn’t bring Stiles home if you couldn’t get the damn engine to turn over. You kept turning the key and pressing down on the clutch.

“Don’t flood it,” Scott said next to you.

“Please, this thing is held together with more duct tape than-” You stopped arguing when the engine turned on. You didn’t talk. You didn’t breathe. All you did was wait.

And wait.

Stiles didn’t show.

“What now?” Malia asked, poking her head between the seats.

“I don’t know,” you said quietly. A few annoying tears clawed at your throat as you spoke. You kept your eyes fixed on the steering wheel to keep from crying.

Scott started suggesting that you all go home when the radio stuttered to life. It filled the car with static. Scott reached to switch it off when a voice came on.

“Hello?”

Stiles.

You grabbed Scott’s hand and yanked it away. If he touched that radio then you were going to break his fingers.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

His voice fought the static but you’d recognize that voice through a hurricane.

“Can anyone hear me?”

Hesitantly, you reached for the walkie connected to the radio. You didn’t want to break whatever magic held the signal together and lose him. Still, you pushed on the button and took a breath. “Stiles?” you asked. “Stiles, I can hear you.”

Stiles said your name in a way that no one had ever said your name. He said it like it meant something. “Is that you?” he asked. “Scotty, you there?”

Scott held your hand over the walkie. “I’m here. Oh my god, Stiles- I can’t believe-”

“Oh my god, you know me?” Stiles asked. He sounded so relieved that your heart ached. “You remember me?”

“I’m trying to,” you said. “I- I dream about you. I promise I’m gonna remember you, alright? No matter what.”

It was quiet. Just the sound of your breathing.

“Are you okay?” Scott asked as he pulled himself closer. “Where are you? We’re coming to get you.”

“No, no, no. You can’t, okay? You won’t be able to find me,” Stiles rushed out. He was panicking and you wanted more than anything to fix it.

“No, Stiles, I need to find you,” you said. “Let me find you.”

“What are you talking about?” Scott asked at the same time you were talking. “Just tell us where you are and we’ll … we’ll come and-”

“Just remember this: Canaan,” Stiles said. Canaan. You were going to get that tattooed on your forehead to make sure there was no way to forget it. “Okay? You have to find Canaan. Just find Canaan. Promise me.”

“I pro-”

Static.

“No.” You moved closer to the radio, desperately looking for a switch to flip to bring him back. “No, no, no. Stiles? Stiles, can you hear me? I need you to say something, okay? Anything.”

Static.

“Stiles, please say something,” you whispered.

Scott said your name quietly. He untangled your hand from the walkie and set it down in its holder, putting his other hand to the side of your face. He said your name again, over your hysterics. “He’s gone,” he said gently. “We’ll get him back, but, for now, Stiles is gone.”

Tagged: @ietss @used-avocado @trustfundparker

#so close #teen wolf #teen wolf au #teen wolf rewrite #stiles stilinski #mccall!reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles slow burn

38 notes · View notes

lettersofwrittencollective · 6 years ago

Text

The Pull (4/?)

Summary: The Ragnulf’s are one of the oldest lines of werewolves known. A gift from ancient times was given to the line. Though not all of the line will experience it. There are some who will experience a Pull. This Pull leads them to their true mate, a soulmate. The problem is, just because the wolf finds their true mate does not mean that they are the same for that person.

Author: @lettersofwrittencollective

Pairing: Stiles x Hale!Cousin OC (Reader)

Word Count: 1732

Warnings: kind of whiplash emotionally.

As always, let me know what you think. Questions, comments, concerns.. the whole 9 yards are welcome! You can either send me a message or leave a note in the comments :)

<<Prev || Masterlist || Next>>

The following morning, it’s the loud blaring of your alarm that wakes you. It takes a moment to figure out where it’s coming from or what it even is but as soon as you do, you’re also hit by the realization that you slept through the entire night. You feel rested for the first time in a couple months and you can’t help the little hop in your step as you go about your morning routine, making sure you put the coffee to brew.

When it’s time to leave you remember to grab the bandana and put it in the main compartment of your backpack before heading to the school. Meeting up with Isaac and Allison you ask how she’s holding up. She’s still a bit shaken but more than anything she just wants to find a way to fix it. She doesn’t wanna hurt anyone. You don’t miss the way her eyes flick to Isaac and you’re sure he doesn’t miss it either but no one actually comments on it.

“But, what about you. You seem to be better this morning” Allison comments, an actual smile on the corner of her lips and you can’t help the smile that stretches across your face.

“I finally got a full night's sleep” you whisper to her like it’s a scandalous secret of some sort.

“That’s amazing Tasha! Did you do anything different?” the brunette asks you and you simply shake your head. You had no intention of questioning your good luck in this moment.

“I’ll see you guys later though, alright?”

You went to Econ and Math and were able to actually able to pay attention in class. You’re still not sure you understand what’s going on in Math but that’s always been an issue for you, so it’s nothing to worry about. As far as you’re concerned the morning had gone great. You and Isaac spent your free period in the library, trying to study and it’s at that point that Isaac told you Scott had asked about you last night. You had been hesitant to ask but you also needed to know, “Do I need to be careful around him?”

“Nah, i think think things are fine” He’d replied with a soft confidence that made you sure things would actually be ok.

You’d been working on a particularly difficult algorithm when suddenly you couldn’t breathe. It had felt like something was constricting across your chest while a rope was wrapped around your throat being pulled taut. A whine escapes your lips as your hands claw at the invisible rope. When you felt like your head was going to explode you, suddenly, found yourself choking and taking gasping breaths of air. You don’t realize it but your eyes have flashed and Isaac noticed.

“Natasha..” Isaac calls and you turn to him. His hand is on your shoulder and there’s concern in his blue eyes and you know that he’s curious as to what’s going on but the thing is that you’re not even sure yourself. Sure, there’s a suspicion but nothing concrete.

Shaking your head, you force a smile on your lips, “It’s nothing to worry about Isaac.. I promise”

“That’s a load of crap and we both know it.”

“Isaac..” you begin, not sure what you’re going to say or how you’d even begin to explain things. Thankfully, you’re saved by the bell signaling the end of the period. Grabbing your stuff, you shake your head at him. He doesn’t look happy but he slowly nods and you wait for him to gather his own things. You already know that the conversation isn’t over but - for now- you’re able to get away from it.

During lunch, you find yourself sitting with the McCall Pack, Isaacs friends. No one really seemed surprised you were there. Though, Stiles had given you looks when you sat down that made you sure he didn’t like the idea of trusting you and the redhead, Lydia, doesn’t seem too happy that you’re there either. But since Scott greets you and Allison welcomes you it doesn’t seem that either one of them are going to fight your place at the table.

Allison begins to talk about seeing her aunt when Scott just gives her warning look and then motions his head towards you.

“Oh.. she knows..” She says slowly.

Scott looks surprised but nods his head.

“Okay… So what happens to a person who has a near-death experience and comes out of it seeing things?’

“And is unable to tell what's real or not?”

“And is being haunted by demonic visions of dead relatives?”

Apparently Isaac hadn’t exaggerated Stiles’ and Scott’s reactions to the sacrifice. You’re trying to figure out if you’d ever heard of anything like this before.

You almost don’t hear Isaac respond, “They’re all locked up because they’re insane.”

You look at your friend and kick him under the table, that was completely rude and uncalled for, when you hear Stiles sarcastically respond, “Ha. Can you at least try to be helpful, please?”

Isaac doesn't acknowledge your kick and leans forward on the table, “For half my childhood, I was locked in a freezer. So, being helpful is kind of a new thing for me.”’

“Wait, what??!” You snap in horror but Isaac ignores you and continues to bicker with Stiles.

You stand to go and try pull Isaac away from the table and get some answers about a freezer childhood when you hear someone clearing their throat and then ‘Hi- Sorry - I couldn’t help overhearing what you guys were talking abou. And I think I actually might know what youre talking about.”

The entire group fell silent and she takes that as her que to keep talking. “There’s a Tibetan word for it. It’s called ‘Bardo.’”

“Wait, isn’t that associated with Buddhism?” you asked the girl. A part of you felt bad that you had forgotten about her yesterday but hopefully you could fix that later.

Kira offered you a smile and nodded, “It literally means ‘in-between state.’ The state between life and death.”

Lydia’s not having it and you don’t blame her. Even if there is some sort of term for it, doesn’t mean that it’s actually something that is real in the supernatural world. Lydia coldly asks Kira who she is and just as you’re going to answer, Scott beats you “Kira.” His friends all looked confused so you jump in “She’s in our history class.”

“So are we talking Bardo in Tibetan Buddhism or Indian?” Lydia challenges and you’re torn between appreciating her apparent loyalty and disliking her for her coldness.

Kira, on the other hand, chooses to ignore the hostility and sits on the bench, forcing Scott and Stiles to both move down the bench. You’re grateful you had already stood as neither one looked to see you were still there. Kira continues though, unfazed “Either, I guess. But all the stuff you guys were just saying? All that happens in Bardo. There are different progressive stages where you can have hallucinations. Some you see, some you just hear. And you can be visited by peaceful and wrathful deities.”

“Well this may actually have something to it.” You murmur as Isaac repeats wrathful deities as if he’s asking what they are.

Kira doesn’t bat an eye when she responds “Like demons.”

“Demons- why not?” Stiles says like he’s not sure he believes it but is also resigned to it. Just how much do they know and not know?

“Wait.. If there are different progressive stages, then what’s the last one?” Allison asks and no one misses the underlying hint of panic in her voice.

It takes you only a second for the answer to occur to you. You’re sure that everyone else knows what it is too but that doesn’t keep the atmosphere from getting heavy when Kira cheerily responds, “Death. You die.”

The group remains silent the rest of lunch and you can tell the Kira is confused. She apologizes to your group before moving on. It takes you a moment and she’s almost down the steps when you decide to go after her, calling her name as you do. She stops and turns to wait for you. “Look I’m sorry about them, I’m sure you just surprised them and no one really knew how to change the topic.”

“Oh.. no.. that's ok. I probably shouldn’t have been so cheerful when i said death. It probably came across kind of creepy.” she gives a forced chuckle at the end and you let out your own chuckle, though it’s much more natural.

The bell rings then and you extend your hand towards her as you say “I’m Natasha by the way. I’ll see you in History?” Kira just looks at your hand like she’s not a hundred percent sure you’re actually reaching out shake her hand and you don’t blame her. It is a kind of antiquated thing to do. She nods after a moment and then shakes your hand before taking off herself.

After History, you’re so glad that you can finally head home. After that moment in the library and the talk of Bardo at lunch, you’ve been on the verge of freaking out. You haven't really been able to breathe and could barely understand a word that Mr. Yukimura said let alone the notes on his slide show.

You’re walking to your bike and pass Scott standing in front of a blue jeep. It’s in that moment that you suddenly remember that you’ve got either his or Stiles’ bandana so you call your name as you walk up to him. Digging into your backpack, you pull out the cloth and hand it to him “I think this is yours, or maybe your friends, either way, it was in the classroom the other day after you two left.”

“Um.. thanks for returning it.” He smiles at you but you’re already getting on your bike. You give him a salute before putting your helmet on and leaving the parking lot.

Isaac texts you before you head to bed, saying that Allison really needs him tonight and he won’t be making it. You simply respond and tell him to take care of her. You, then, check your alarms and get ready for bed before calling it a night.

You’re awoken by the sound of your screams.

<<Prev || Masterlist || Next>>

tag list: @nicole-lynne @fandom-princess-forevermore

Do not copy and paste my writing anywhere without my consent. This work is the property of lettersofwrittencollective . Associated characters belong to MTV and are being borrowed for this work, all OC’s are the property of lettersofwrittencollective. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author/publisher.

Posted 08 March 2019

#teen wolf #reader insert #stiles #Stiles Stilinkski #stilinski #stiles imagine #Teen wolf x reader #The Pull #my writing

236 notes · View notes

delos-mio · 6 years ago

Text

Golden Hour - Part 2

A/N: part two is here!! please let me know how you’re feeling about this fic! your feedback is always greatly appreciated c:

-----

When you woke up the next morning, Steve was still fresh on your mind. The way he smiled, the way he smelled…everything about him haunted your dreams. Truthfully, you felt kind of dumb for having such a big crush on a guy you didn’t get a number from. But you couldn’t help yourself—Steve had worked his way into your head. After freshening up and pulling a sweatshirt on, you wandered out into the living room of your apartment with Wanda where she was eagerly chatting with Sam over a cup of coffee.

“Fancy seeing you here, ditcher,” you teased Sam as you grabbed a mug for yourself.

“Hey now! I couldn’t find you when we left. So, who really did the ditching?” he asked with a raise of his eyebrow.

“You did. You left the second we got beer, asshole.” You sat across from them and stuck your tongue out at him.

“Where’d you end up anyways? I didn’t hear you get in until almost 7,” Wanda said with a tiny smirk. This information amused Sam and he whooped a bit before you flipped him off.

“It wasn’t like that. I um, I ended up on the roof of the house with Steve,” you said while you shot daggers at Sam.

“Rogers?”

“He said literally the same thing when I mentioned you last night.” You paused to take a sip of the too-hot drink before continuing. “Where have you been hiding Steve Rogers anyways?”

“He ain’t hiding! I met him during freshman orientation. Clint and I lived in the dorm room next to him and Bucky,” he said as a matter of fact. “He plays baseball, so he’s always at that house. Real good guy.”

“I know.”

“Oh, so you’re the Steve biographer now?” he asked with a shit eating grin, making you flip him off yet again. Then you watched as realization came across his face. “You like him! Oh man, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about him being totally your type. You and your pretty boys. Mhmm, I bet he liked you too,” He shook his head and smiled again.

“Oh, fuck you!” you laughed. “I am mad at you for not introducing us, though,” you said with a fake pout.

“How’d you guys meet then without your charming and well connected best friend?” He was loving every minute of making you squirm.

“I um, well, I saw Billy over pretty close to me. So, of course I freaked out. And I kind of grabbed him since he was the closest to me and asked if he’d pretend to be my date.” Once it came out of your mouth, you realized just how melodramatic you’d been the night before. It was a wonder Steve didn’t run the minute you asked him for such an odd favor.

“You what?!” Wanda laughed, unable to contain her giggles. Sam just stared at you with his dark eyes and raised eyebrows.

“It got worse.” They both stared at you, urging you to continue with your story. “I kind of…I may have kissed him when he said Billy was walking in our direction.” With that admission and the ensuring roar of disbelief and laughter, you grabbed the nearest pillow and buried your face in it. “I know! I know, ok?”

“I don’t even know what to say. Must have been a good kiss to make him stay with your crazy ass all night,” Sam quipped and you launched the pillow over at his smug face. “Did you give him your number or anything?”

“He said to come by the studio sometime. Not really sure what that means in guy speak. Any insight?” you asked Sam.

“Well, he’s pretty closed off, especially about his art. So, I think the boy’s got it bad. I can ask him if you want.”

“No!” you yelled abruptly. “I mean, no.”

“If you say so.” He finished the rest of his drink and brought his mug to the sink before shrugging into his jacket. “Well, ladies. It’s been lovely as always, but I have to get ready for my date.”

“Econ girl?” you asked excitedly.

“Econ girl.” He opened the door before leaning back a bit. “We should all probably start calling her Gabby, by the way.” With that, he gave you a wink and slipped out the door.

----

Steve quietly tried to sneak back into the apartment he shared with Bucky. Generally, he was a pretty heavy sleeper, so he figured it’d be no problem. As the front door clicked shut behind him, another door clicked open inside the apartment. A girl clad in only one of Bucky’s shirts exited his room and immediately jumped upon seeing Steve. He quickly averted his eyes and turned his attention to the ceiling, trying to look anywhere but at the half-naked girl before him.

“Sorry,” he murmured as she quickly padded down the hall to the bathroom.

Steve pushed his hair back from his face and shook his head. Of course Bucky had company. He’d been at the same party last night, and it wasn’t often he couldn’t find companionship if he so decided. He made his way to his room which doubled as a secondary studio and let the back of his knees hit the mattress, flopping onto his back. His eyes fluttered shut as he mulled over the events of the evening. He had walked into a party with Bucky, who almost immediately ditched him, only to be asked by a pretty girl to pretend to be here date. She was very pretty, wasn’t she? Two souls, abandoned by their friends, finding each other in a packed party. He let out a small sigh as he thought about her smile and how unapologetically herself she’d been from the moment she spoke to him. As he was getting lost in his own thoughts, he was interrupted by his door being flung open and Bucky leaning in his door frame.

“Do you mind? I’m really tired,” Steve grumbled, still not opening his eyes.

“You dog! You got home later than me. Don’t think that’s ever happened before,” he said with a smile evident in his voice.

“It’s not like that. You’ll notice, Buck, that unlike you, I didn’t bring anyone home with me.” Steve was starting to get irritated by his roommate’s presence and hoped he’d leave him in peace and quiet sooner rather than later.

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you sleep. But you’re gonna tell me about her when you wake up.” With that, Steve heard his door shut again, leaving him in the stillness of his room. He fell asleep half hanging off the bed where he landed with the girl who kissed him without reservation on his mind.

----

The weekend passed with a lot of idle time thinking about when you could possibly see Steve again. You were really regretting not scrawling your number somewhere for him. It was torture not knowing how to find him again outside of going to the studio, hoping dumb luck would make you run into him. Yes, there was the option to ask Sam for his number, but you already came off strange enough during your first interaction—you didn’t need to scare the boy away with a creepy text out of the clear blue sky.

You made it to Monday morning and somehow managed to make it to your 8:30 am class on time; a rare feat for you. Thankfully, the class was all engaged in a lively discussion of why Susan didn’t make it to Narnia at the end of the The Last Battle, so it was easy to stay alert and engaged. Before you knew it, your professor was dismissing you and reminding you all about the paper that was due on Thursday. You shuffled down the stairs of the academic building, AB as it was affectionately called, and paused once you got to the quad. Normally, you’d head home for a few hours before your afternoon class, maybe to the coffee shop if you were drowning in homework. But you had Steve’s invitation ringing in your head. Was it weird to go see him so soon? But he wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t want to see you, right?

The art building was only a quarter mile from your building, so you made quick work of the walk and tried to hype yourself up, telling yourself that there’s nowhere to go but up after what you put him through on Friday. When you got inside, you realized you had no idea where you were going. You had yet to take an art class while at school and though you knew he’d either be printmaking or drawing, you didn’t know where to begin looking for those studios. After wandering aimlessly for a minute, you saw a tall girl stalking out of a room to your left. You quickly caught up with her and called out from behind.

“Hey! Really sorry to bother you, but do you know where I could find a printmaking room?” you asked with a smile. The girl turned around and shot you a look, removing one earbud from her ear.

“What?”

“Printmaking…where could I find that room?” you asked again, this time less sure of yourself.

“Down that hall to the left,” she said unceremoniously and popped the earbud back in, turning back to the direction she was originally heading and left. You widened your eyes to yourself but took her directions. At the end of the hall, the was a set of double doors propped open and a few tables in a large workspace. There were only a couple students in there, hovering intently over their work. You poked your head in the room and gave in a quick scan, wondering if you’d have any luck finding Steve.

Immediately, your eye was drawn to him. You were thankful he didn’t notice your presence because you were definitely staring. All weekend, you were sure you had a picture-perfect vision of him in your head, but you were abruptly reminded that he was much more handsome than you could dream up. He had traded in his plaid shirt from the other night for a paint-stained grey tee that was about a size and a half too small. You remembered from hitting your chest on his head that he felt muscular, but seeing him in this shirt showed off just how built he really was. His biceps strained under the short sleeves as he delicately carved back layers of his work with an Exacto Knife. There was a backwards snapback holding his grown out hair back out of his face, his beard speckled with a bit of stray ink. You allowed yourself one more moment to admire him from afar before you approached. You thought it’d be fun to get his attention the same way you did the night you met and gently tugged on the back of his tight shirt.

“I was wondering when you’d come around.” You could hear his smile before you saw it. He set down the blade and turned to face you, letting his palms rest on the edge of the table behind him. He looked completely in his element and relaxed, his blue eyes squinting slightly as he looked you over.

“I wasn’t sure if it was really an open invitation,” you smirked before taking a seat in the chair next to him. He joined you and maneuvered his chair slightly so he could have his body turned toward you.

“I promise you, I only say things that I mean.” He lifted hit hat and pushed his hair back before securing it again. You couldn’t stop the heat that started to rise in your cheeks.

“So, what are you working on?” you asked, peeking over his shoulder.

“Well,” he turned to move the board between you two, “it’s a print I’m working on for midterms. It’s part of a series based on deconstructed mixed with hyper-realistic anatomy.” You looked it over and saw the allusion to a ribcage and beating heart. He had meticulously hand carved out every vein, artery, and muscle. It was gorgeous. You sat for a moment and just marveled, not only at what he had created it, but the man who created it. Steve was soft where someone else in his situation would have been hard. He was a gentle jock and you were completely taken by his almost impossible juxtaposition.

“Steve, it’s beautiful. I love it,” you said sincerely, letting your hand rest on his bicep. Holy shit, he was solid.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” He flashed you that wide smile that made your knees weak the night you met. He let his legs slide out a little and leaned back casually in his chair. “You know, I talked to Sam yesterday,” he said nonchalantly. You immediately felt your stomach turn and looked at him with wide eyes.

“That motherfucker. I hope he didn’t tell you all the greatest hits of my blunders,” you groaned.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Steve chuckled. “He just said he heard we’d finally met and asked if we would like to go with him and Gabby to the football game Friday.” He looked at you expectantly and ran his hand idly over his beard.

“W-we? Sam never asked me to go,” you half asked with confusion.

“Yeah. I think he was kind of hoping I’d ask you to go with me,” he said with a smirk. Relief and realization washed over you. “What do you say? Can you make it through a whole football game with me and Sam?”

“Sam? I don’t know, the jury’s still out on him.” You both laughed a little nervous laugh. “But I could watch a game with you, yes.”

“I can pick you up around 6 if that works for you,” he offered nervously, seemingly surprised him and Sam’s plan worked out.

“You’re not going to make me sit in barf, right?” you asked and bit on your bottom lip, unable to resist picking on Steve just a bit.

“Very funny,” he drawled sarcastically. “Could I—would I be able to get your number? So you can tell me where you live and all that,” he added quickly; you were really starting to love seeing him get flustered. You reached for a scrap paper and pencil and scribbled down your number, sliding it across the table to his large hands. His fingers just barely brushed yours as he took the paper before stowing it away in the front pocket of his jeans.

“You can always use that number before Friday too, if you want,” you said with a sly smile and stood up from your seat, leaving another small kiss on Steve’s bearded cheek. His laugh carried a bit as you walked out of the studio, your feet feeling like they were being carried by tiny, pink fluffy clouds.

You had a date with Steve Rogers.

#Steve Rogers #steve rodgers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #marvel #mcu #chris evans #steve rodgers imagine #Steve rogers fanfic #captain america imagine #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers au #college au #masterlist #golden hour

111 notes · View notes

lindsay36ho · 3 years ago

Text

Tonebase – Catching the Moment

Interview With tonebase’s Piano Executive Ben Laude

In late 2019, tonebase Piano was launched, with the aim of giving amateur pianists access to high level music education through premium online content featuring great artists. Since then, education has been trending even more in a digital direction because of the pandemic. Piano Street’s Patrick Jovell has talked to Ben Laude about the challenges he faced building tonebase’s piano platform, but also about how to forge a unified music education, reconciling our physical and virtual realities.

Piano Street: Dear Ben, thank you for letting us interview you! From what I know you are responsible for the Piano at Tonebase. But you are not alone. I could count fifteen people working in your team. Among the founders I find Chris Garwood who is a guitarist. Can you tell me how it all started and how it has developed?

Ben Laude: First of all, thank you Patrick and to everyone at Piano Street for the resources you’ve been providing us pianists for decades now! I used to frequent the forums back in my conservatory days, mostly looking to pick fights with people about whose Rach 3 recording was the greatest (it was Horowitz and Reiner from 1951, I was convinced).

I joined tonebase in medias res about two years ago with a simple mandate: build the piano platform. The model I had at the time was tonebase’s original pilot classical guitar platform, which had been launched in 2017. Our three founders met at Yale, where two of them (Chris Garwood and Igor Lichtmann) were pursuing their master’s in guitar. They took their ‘Music and Business’ course more seriously than most, it seems, and ended up with a germ of a business plan. They connected with a comp-sci/econ double major whiz kid (Abhi Nayar), and the three of them officially founded tonebase in the summer of 2017. Their savvy and initial success led to getting involved with some Silicon Valley investors, with whom they secured funding to expand to another instrument. Piano was the obvious choice. At the time I was hired, I was busy teaching and performing, and continued to assist David Dubal in curating his NYC piano performance series (a gig I had going back to my early grad work at Juilliard). I figured it was time to put the doctorate I earned in piano to proper use, and had started applying to tenure-track jobs in higher ed when the call for a tonebase ‘Head of Piano’ fell into my lap. It seemed a bit too good to be true, as I’ve had a second passion for media production dating back to high school, especially video editing. I’ve always enjoyed Bruno Mosaingeon’s interviews at the piano with Glenn Gould and wished more films like this existed with more pianists.

Ben Laude performing in concert

My first six months at tonebase were a mad scramble to recruit as many high calibre pianists and professors as I could and coordinate productions on various repertoire and pianistic topics. Garrick Ohlsson was one of the first major artists to say ‘yes’ – he and I met for coffee in New York the summer of 2019 and got lost in conversation about piano. He was clearly a great fit for our longform style of in-depth tutorial videos, and I owe a lot to him for being willing to contribute lessons to our launch. The next big challenge was organizing our post-production workflow with my teammates – editing the video and adding corresponding scores and workbooks to the platform. (I watched Ohlsson teach Chopin’s First Ballade and Third Scherzo over and over again for so many hours while editing those lessons, that I must have learned both pieces by osmosis – they’re now in my active repertoire and I can’t account for that based on practice-time alone.) We launched in late 2019 with about 30 videos and to-date we’re approaching 300 released, plus dozens more in our backlog waiting to be processed and released.

2020 was a bittersweet. It started off in January and February with some unforgettable productions, including two extended sessions with Leon Fleisher, just months before he passed. While Covid led to a higher demand for streaming services, it also became quite difficult to continue productions as before. I also began to direct my energies towards developing foundational musicianship content, beginner courses, and live programming, while continuing to pursue new collaborations with great concert artists and professors where possible. 2021 couldn’t have arrived soon enough. Our subscriber count has by now risen to over 5000; among our active users, about 40% are ‘serious amateurs’, 40% teachers/professionals, and another 20% or so younger students. We’re aiming to keep pace with our expanding base as we grow, and continue to provide a really exceptional and unique product to pianists of very different backgrounds. There’s also some major concert artists who will be added to our roster soon, including a few based in the UK/EU, and I look forward to producing with them later this year (hopefully in person, fingers crossed). We’re still a young platform, and I’m excited to see where we can go from here.

PS:You are a Juilliard trained pianist and you also function as a tutor, also on Tonebase. Which key questions on piano playing and interpretation have you nourished through the years and which come out in your function as a Masterclass moderator?

BL: While at Juilliard I grew fascinated by one of the core questions, or mysteries, of piano playing: that is, what is the relation between physical technique and musical expression. The more I investigated the problem, the more I discovered that musicianship training – i.e., deeply internalizing musical relationships in one’s mind, ear, and voice – can foster better interpretive ideas while also contributing directly to overcoming physical obstacles. In my tonebase lessons, I’ve tried to emphasize the importance of integrating music theory and aural skills into our practice at the keyboard, and we’ve been releasing more and more practical musicianship content for our users’ benefit.

These musicianship subjects are often taught in isolation, especially in the American conservatory systems I’m familiar with, so that your typical piano major will sleep through music theory class on Monday, mumble through solfege exercises on Tuesday, and show up on Wednesday for a private lesson. This results in an unfortunate separation between the intellectual comprehension of harmony and form, the aural recognition of musical relationships, and the physical realization of these principles in performance. (I should also mention a vital fourth element, the study of music history and culture, which takes place on Thursday and is forgotten about by the weekend!) It is no wonder why so many one-sided musicians have emerged from this state of affairs. How often have we encountered a pianist with “great technique, but nothing to say” or with “great ideas, but no chops,” or those who have great ears or analytical minds but never applied them at the piano?

Producer and tutor. Ben Laude is also featured in instruction videos at Tonebase.

The remedy, I have found, is a kind of well-rounded musicianship training where playing the piano is treated as a means for developing your musical personality, rather than as an end in itself. I don’t claim to know the best way to get there! But, I have familiarized myself with some traditions that I believe can help a great deal – for one, I’ve always found Nadia Boulanger’s method of keyboard skills training, with solfege and harmonic analysis mixed in, to be very useful. (The first time I ever performed Bach without a memory slip came after painstakingly working through the Fugue phrase-by-phrase, singing one voice while playing the others, then switching.) Committing to such training transforms our connection to the instrument, and over time a kind of holistic awareness starts to develop, which is just awesome. It becomes nearly impossible to play a given figuration or progression on the piano without hearing its component elements and knowing something about how they relate. Scores can be processed faster and memorization becomes much more rapid and reliable. Furthermore, these new sensitivities instantly inform how passages might be played, conjuring all sorts of possibilities about voicing, texture, phrasing, rubato, etc. Physically, the instrument begins feeling more like an extension of your arm, hand, and fingers, relieving tension and promoting facility.

There’s much more to this, but these are the basic contours of a kind of “musical fluency” at the keyboard that I believe all pianists should develop more thoroughly (including myself!), and which I hope to spread through tonebase.

PS: The line-up of artists and pedagogues on Tonebase is impressive as are the productions in question. The technology used is a proof of your ambition to give the viewer the best possible chance to get into the contents of the Masterclasses. One easily thinks about carefully directed momenta in order to secure the core message. As a “stage director”, how do you manage the different artists and personalities which all have their own fields of expertise and own articulated artistic/pedagogical universes?

Leon Fleisher teaching pianist Rachel Naomi Kudo Brahms’ B-flat major Piano Concerto.

BL: Pianists can be temperamental, particular people, and each of the artists on tonebase has a singular vision at the instrument that has been honed over decades. I’m lucky to work with one pianist at a time, since their perspectives often rub against each other. In some cases, they appear to be in direct opposition. For example, Leon Fleisher preached a rhythmically-strict, architectural approach to building phrases; Jerome Lowenthal insisted on a rhythmically flexible, narrative approach to interpretation. Who is right? Both, and neither, I suppose. What matters to me is that both have the floor, and are given a platform to demonstrate and defend their perspectives at the instrument. Then, it’s up to viewers to watch, absorb, and find what resonates with them. Pianistic wisdom comes in many varieties, sometimes contradictory!

Ben Laude in interview and Chopin session with Emanuel Ax.

In terms of stage direction, I do my best to steer and structure lessons without leaving my fingerprints all over them. Some artists, like Boris Berman, preferred to work more carefully with me in advance to develop a carefully articulated lesson plan. In other cases, artists were more comfortable speaking extemporaneously about their piece or topic. Garrick Ohlsson, for example, had a marvelous ability to spontaneously manifest highly structured lessons on the spot with very few retakes. One of the trickiest parts of the job has to do with building an ideal viewer in the mind of the artist. Professors are used to the give and take of engaging directly with a student in person, so speaking to an anonymous future student inside a camera can be alienating. If I can manage to make artists comfortable and be themselves, they forget about the artificial environment they’re in and their personalities shine through.

PS: This last year’s Pandemic situation has shown a necessary increase in consulting digital resources in music education. Institutions are now much more open to include such alternatives in their regular curricula. How do you predict the future for Tonebase and similar resources on the Internet?

One of the Scarlatti takes with Claire Huangci.

BL: I should say that I’m familiar enough with dystopian literature and film to be suspicious of the rallying cry to thoroughly digitize education. It has seemed inevitable since the advent of the internet and streaming services, but brick and mortar educational institutions were too thoroughly entrenched in social life to be uprooted like Blockbuster Video. Nevertheless, education had been trending in a digital direction when 2020 arrived. It seems like the pandemic just sped things up by a decade.

Discussing the piano concerto repertoire with John Kimura Parker.

The original mission of tonebase was about connecting amateur pianists to the otherwise insulated worlds of conservatory and concert hall. Therefore it relied on the coexistence, and separation, between offline institutions and online individuals. The amateur’s relative isolation from centers of high level music making and education was the problem we were solving by making the wisdom of great artists accessible and affordable. But what we found even before the pandemic was a widespread general interest in such premium online video content, from more amateurs on the periphery to professionals at the center of these institutions, plus many students and teachers in between. Now that the pandemic has created a situation in which everyone is isolated, including from their own institutions, there has been a need for virtual experiences of all kinds. Some are surrogates that will disappear once social restrictions are lifted, but it seems like others are here to stay. I see lots of potential for tonebase and other online resources to become staples of music education in the post-Covid future, both in institutional settings and private teaching.

You might think a subjective, sensuous discipline like music requires the flexibility of “offline” learning and would find less use in incorporating digital resources into the classroom or studio. Yet what I’ve found in observing tonebase’s appeal is that it’s precisely the elusiveness of music education that increases the value of any given artist’s video lessons. Whereas it might be interesting to hear the same calculus concept explained by five different math instructors, ultimately they’re each trying to communicate the same bit of knowledge. This is never quite the case with piano instructors, as there’s a wonderful lack of consensus about even fundamental principles of technique and interpretation. There are no axiomatic proofs to musical understanding or scientific laws to piano technique, there are only more-or-less-successful approaches developed and passed down through lineages of mentorship. Under the right circumstances, piano teachers should embrace this healthy relativism and utilize our video archive as discussion material during lessons. Having students weigh different approaches will help them think critically about piano playing, find solutions faster, and ultimately foster original artistry to a degree not possible if you only had access to the perspectives of one or two professors.

Screen capture from a digital workshop with Simone Dinnerstein.

On the other hand, often the point of a lesson is not to encourage an exploration of different viewpoints, but to focus on solving a student’s specific problems without the distractions of a second opinion. Even here, a digital resource like tonebase offers a lot of promise down the road. Private teachers often wonder what goes on during the 167 hours between lessons with a student, and having trusted, high quality video lessons and training videos available for the student to watch and practice along with could be a game changer. Teachers could be spending valuable lesson time working on the particular problems a student is facing while they entrust tonebase’s virtual instructors to do the job of introducing or reinforcing concepts and skills in the interim. Along these lines, I believe piano departments and music school libraries will find great value in making tonebase available to both students and faculty as a versatile teaching and training resource.

Garrick Ohlsson preparing for filming momentum.

Of course, in-person learning environments bring benefits that can’t or shouldn’t be reproduced by digital technologies, such as direct feedback from instructors and social interaction with peers. Music, as Boris Berman exclaims in a tonebase lesson, is “the art of sound,” and there’s something irreplaceable about experiencing sonic vibrations in person – making, sharing, and commenting on music together in the same space. Feedback can be digitally mediated to a degree, and tonebase has been increasing its live workshops and developing community feedback channels. But ultimately, the power of digital resources utilized in combination with in-person instruction remains unrealized, especially in music. The goal is to make tonebase a constructive force in reconciling our physical and virtual realities and forging a unified music education that draws from the best of both worlds. (And if all hell breaks loose and the machines do try to take over, I would expect the humanizing forces of music education to tame the robots and for tonebase to help keep our priorities straight!)

After filming session series with Boris Berman.

Emanuel Ax on Learning Chopin in Lockdown

tonebase recently visited the 7-time GRAMMY Award-winning pianist at his breathtaking home in the Berkshires for an extended interview and recording session.

youtube

from Piano Street’s Classical Piano News https://www.pianostreet.com/blog/articles/catching-the-moment-11172/

0 notes

gunshyrpgggggggggggg · 7 years ago

Photo

Congratulations MERLYN! You’ve been accepted as Siobhan Byrne. Below the cut is a sample application for you to view and use to your advantage. If you have any questions, feel free to contact me.

OOC INFORMATION -

NAME: Merlyn, she/her

AGE: Twenty-Two

TIMEZONE: Eastern Time.

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I’m a full time University student in my fourth year! I’ll be fairly busy with that, but since most of my classes are online, I have quite a bit of free time that I can dedicate to the game.

ANYTHING ELSE? Not that I can think of!

IC INFORMATION -

DESIRED ROLE: Siobhan Byrne.

WHO ARE THEY TO YOU?

Siobhan is still growing. She has a vision of who she wants to be and just needs to find a way to get there. She’s kind and wants the best for those around her. She’s not blind to what her family does, and while she doesn’t agree or want any part of it, she understands that hating her family for doing things she sees as wrong will only hurt her in the long run.

Since her brother’s death, Siobhan has been changing. Slowly but surely, she’s becoming a different person and the next few months of her life will shape who she will be in the future. She’s started drinking, sometimes so much she can’t remember the night before. She tries to hide it from her family and friends, but deep down, she knows they notice something is off. Though, Siobhan is good at pretending. “I’m okay,” will leave her lips, with a small somber smile. “It’s just hard getting over Cillian.” That typically ends the conversation. “She’s grieving,” they say. “People do it in their own ways.” She hasn’t touched drugs. Not yet, at least.

The two things that keep Siobhan going is hope for a better future and Henry. Columbia kept her occupied. She made beautiful art in her small apartment while listening to Lila’s music. She studied the great artists that came before her, from Ancient Greece to the Renaissance to modern minimalists and everything that came in between. Her econ homework was stressful and complex, her lowest grades she received, but she knew it would help with her end goal. Her dream has always been to run her own Art Gallery. She would have a small cafe where local musicians could play their music while patrons browsed beautiful works, sometimes maybe even her own.

Her family’s business made the world an ugly place. She wanted to make it a bit more beautiful. No matter how small her impact may be. Though, with the looming darkness that surrounds her, she’s not sure she’s capable of achieving her dream anymore. But, that certainly hasn’t stopped her from trying.

CONNECTIONS:

DANTE VASCO - Crush Siobhan has had a crush on Dante since she met him. Young and oblivious, she just saw a pretty face and large biceps. She remembered giggling obnoxiously at every stupid thing that left his mouth, hopelessly infatuated with the man. He was older and dangerous. The brother of her future sister-in-law. Dante was everything Siobhan would _never _have. Since her brother’s murder, she likes to pretend that Dante doesn’t have the same effect on her; he’s a Vasco. The enemy. But, Siobhan knows if she ever bumps into him, she’ll revert back to the same little girl she was when they first met.

DARCY BYRNE - Father Siobhan is a daddy’s girl. Or, she always tried to be. While she was growing up, Siobhan knew she didn’t fit the Byrne dynamic. Her brothers and father would always have inside jokes that she was never a part of and go to sporting events and movies she wasn’t old enough to see without her. Cillian always tried to mend the gap between them, but her father, in her eyes, never seemed to catch on. She always wanted to be “one of the guys” but she just didn’t have the personality for it. Of course, she knew that he loved her and supported everything she did, she just didn’t have the relationship with him that she wanted. She wasn’t a son. She was the only daughter that he had to keep safe. Sheltered. They were never buddies; they were just father and daughter.

MORAL ALIGNMENT:

Siobhan is a Chaotic Good Alignment. While at first I thought she would be Neutral Good, I believe Chaotic Good is the better fit; Siobhan believes that every law has their biases. She has her own moral code, but is undoubtedly good.

EXTRAS: all my graphic content for Siobhan can be found here. Below, you will find my written content for her.

FUTURE PLANS:

I really want to explore Siobhan delving deeper into her own twisted spiral. Whether this means going into the business to feel a bit closer to Cillian, or finding herself lost in her own mind, numbed by drugs and alcohol.

Alternatively, I think Siobhan would start to distance herself from her family. The business got her brother killed, why wouldn’t her other siblings, parents, or even her nephew, be at risk, too? Siobhan can’t handle that kind of heartbreak again. Maybe leaving her family behind is the best way to save herself.

I also want to develop Siobhan’s relationships with other people. Now that she doesn’t have Cillian, there is a gap in her life. She has Lila, her closest (or only) true friend and roommate, as well as Henry, the little boy she adores, but there will always be something missing. I think she’ll try to fill this hole with one of two things: romance or family. She’ll either find someone who will hold her while she cries and kiss her tears away or find a way to connect with her brothers or parents. Maybe even both. Though, her family has always been exhausting for Siobhan, the true introvert in a family of extroverts.

WRITING SAMPLE:

1:03 AM

The glow of Siobhan’s bedside clock stung her groggy eyes.

Lila was out at another music party. “It’s a fundraiser,” she said, taking her third shot of the night as she put on her coat. “This band is raising money for studio time. I think,” she shrugged heading out the door. “Any excuse to drink, is good enough for me.”

Siobhan laughed at her roommate before returning to her somber state. Now, hours later, without being able to sleep, with no inspiration to sketch or paint, Siobhan wished she went with her overzealous roommate to the unknown apartment filled with all the people she didn’t know and who didn’t know her. At least then, Siobhan would be doing something other than melt away into her sheets, slowly turning into nothing.

Exactly eight minutes later, when the red numbers made a clean 1:11 AM, Siobhan tore off her sheets and went to her closet, finding the bottle of 19 year old scotch Cillian bought for her as a joke on her nineteenth birthday. She didn’t plan on drinking it so soon, but after his death, she’s consumed half of the bottle.

Siobhan took her scotch and brought it to the kitchen. She filled a small tumbler and took a sip, letting the liquid burn her tongue and her throat as it went down. She gagged. The amber drink swirled in her glass after she put it down. If there was one thing she was taught growing up, not through lectures, but through simple observation, it was to always pace yourself when drinking. But, lately, Siobhan has let most of her ideologies go. So, she picked up her glass and drank every last drop.

Her face felt hot and her body tensed, but she filled her glass again and shot it down as cleanly as Lila did hers. Though, Siobhan coughed much more than what she would consider normal or acceptable.

She looked at the bottle and started to feel tears drip onto her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away, sick of crying alone in the dark. She started to feel lightheaded, not quite dizzy, but her body didn’t feel her own. That was how she knew the drinks were working.

Another glass later, Siobhan was on the floor, a large piece of canvas on the ground and a paintbrush in her hand.

Black. Siobhan needed black. She mixed it with her blues and reds, used it on its own and even mixed it with white to get a desolate grey. She wasn’t painting to make a picture. She didn’t have the energy for that. No, Siobhan was painting what she felt. Hard lines and splatter, mixed with finger painting and tears made for a messy product.

By the time Lila came home, Siobhan was sleeping on the couch, covered in colours while her work and bottle of scotch sat next to her on the floor.

Lila didn’t mention it the next morning.

Siobhan was truly grateful.

#rp #rpg #crime rp #mob rpg #bio rpg #sample app

1 note · View note

damester13 · 5 years ago

Text

Entry #15 - (Leave) 09/13/19

In my entries about my college journey, Maybe I glossed them with too much of the good stuff in it. While all those good things actually happened to me, we all know by now that I have already lost all of those. No matter how much of good things they were, it's nothing but just memories now. So now I will detail my last few months in Cainta.

Last year's Christmas was probably the saddest of all 21 Christmases I've had. Ever since I stopped functioning during our Finals week, I've been skipping meals more intensely and Christmas Eve was no different. I also turned off all communications with other people for a while. My coping mechanism switch was lit green. I just didn't want to have to deal with anyone at that point. I was filled with shame and disappointment, that I feel like interacting with people will just force me to be "okay" temporarily. From there, I just wanted to give up, primarily my journey as a college student. But at this point, it's extremely petty of me to give up this early, right? Right. I needed an excuse to run in my head and in other people's, too. So why not apply for a LoA status for 1 sem and figure out where things will go from here? And I did just that, but not exactly.

To tell you the truth, there was some bits of geniune hope that my LoA period will bring some positive results. I intended to stay in Cavite for the full extent of my Leave for the change in environment, and plan to shift to Education course when I get back. Of course, my aunt didn't accept that at first, so I just had to make a compromise with her. I said that I'll spend my Leave considering my option to stay in Pol Sci as well. I never did it though, but I had to say it just so I will be allowed to push through. Again, Pol Sci is such a wonderful course. Unfortunately, it's not what's for me. From here on and out, somehow things didn't go as planned for me.

As I've said earlier, there was a glimmer of hope in this decision, but things went differently when it started to become busy at home. There was an ongoing construction for our new garage and my aunts were constantly going out to do whatever they were doing. Since the rest of the people apart from me and Lola were not at home during the day, I was very much needed to be at home all the time to "watch over" my lola and the construction workers in case they might need something. My plan to leave for Cavite was put on hold until the time came when I wasn't just up for it anymore. You see, even after the construction was over, we kept having visitors over and over again. I was a complete shut-in, so leaving my room with tons of visitors outside was a tightrope I'm not willing to walk on. It was just very hard for me to find a good chance to ask for permission and leave the house.

It kept going on and on like that until one day, I just woke up with not even a single pint of hope and positivity to be found in me. Along with that, any vision of a good future for me was also gone. I consider myself a positive thinker. Even with a bad coping mechanism when things fuck up, as long as I can see a chance for things to get better, I will find myself being okay one way or another. But now, everything is just dark. I cannot see anything at all. I kept telling myself, "Something was there before." But now, I can't even remember what it was anymore.

During these times, I kept going on and off with interacting with people. I am very much conflicted with how I view my friends at that point. I think they were just big distractions to me. All their happy, sad, or even random stories are just for me to temporarily forget my own reality. I committed to talk to these people when they need someone to talk to but it wasn't easy for me to listen to them without thinking of how unfair life is for me. Regardless, I remained as a "true" friend to them until the very end. I'm sorry.

The tables have turned completely and I just can't recognize my situation anymore. This wasn't how things are meant to go. Or perhaps, it was? At this point, it doesn't matter. Things have been going downhill for a long time now that it just feels like any bad thing that happens to me is just a part of an endless streak of unfortunate events. Somewhere along the line, I just decided to finally give up for real.

I began my plan to officially drop out of college. I did say "plan" but given the lack of vision that I have, I really didn't have much apart from planning to permanently stay in Cavite. As for my primary "excuse", I just don't think I can pursue something that I have no motivation for. Me staying in UP will just be an utter waste of time and financial resources if this goes on.

I asked several friends of mine for their opinions and advice regarding this decision because I recognize my state of mind isn't as optimal as it should be at that time. Their opinions varied quite a bit, but the bottom line of most of them was that "It's up to me." Personally, I dislike this a lot purely because I think I'm very much aware of that fact. I ask for people's take on my problem because I want to know what THEY want for me, what THEY think the better choice is for me. I ask those because those are the things that I do not know yet. Anyway, I still valued their words as I work my mind around things. Thank you.

Finally, with all these said and done, I still had to ask for my aunts' GO signal if I intend to push through this path. If our talk about my LoA ended up in a compromise, this time I cannot compromise anything anymore. I was going to keep convicing them until they're finally okay with it. But my emotions were the ones that gave up first. My aunts kept pushing for me to enroll the next semester even if I was already a week late in the enrollment period. Their persistence was just as I expected but hearing it directly iritated me so much that I just lashed out on them.

"You just don't understand me at all! At this point, I feel like I might end up killing myself someday!" I shouted.

That was the first time I ever mentioned that to anyone directly.

I suddenly found it hard to breathe.

My hands were shaking.

I wasn't able to talk.

I shed no tears but my heart was crying.

I realized that I was no longer capable of having a conversation with them so I stormed out of the room.

My legs were numb.

The numbness went all over my body.

I couldn't bend my knees at all.

I had to penguin-walk towards my room.

I fell on my bed without bending a single joint.

I felt weak.

This went on for at least 10 minutes until I finally calmed down.

That was my last conversation with them. 2 days later, I finally left the household and now I'm here in Cavite.

In the end, I committed a lot of mistakes yet again. I wasn't able to convince my aunts regarding my decision. I wasn't able to meet a couple of friends before I left for Cavite. I wasn't able to officially drop out and now I'm in an indefinite period of unofficial leave.

If this is a story of my greatest comeback of all time, oh how great that would be. But I don't want to stupidly believe in such unlikely thing. I'm sorry.

Extra stories:

For reference: I incurred an Academic Delinquency tag and was put on a Probationary status for not passing more than 50 percent of my total units in one sem. In that sem, I only passed 2 of my Japanese classes (obviously because of my prior background), and my Econ class because of a curve I think. Also, 1 of the Japanese classes isn't technically creditted to me since I already had 5 out of 6 cognate courses done in my curriculum.

For the record, I don't care about my grades as long as they're not failing. Maybe even if I fail a couple, I wouldn't mind. But what I do mind is the implication of the strings of failures especially when concentrated in one semester. It definitely tells something about me and my current path. I felt like I had to step back and I did, permanently.

While I was in UP processing my LoA application, I met a girl who was also settling her Academic Delinquency status. She was hospitalized during finals week resulting to her failing all her classes back then. I honestly felt much more disappointed in myself since she was still determined to keep pushing through even after such an inevitable setback. I hope she's getting closer to her finish line by now.

During my Leave, I intended to study and take the N4 level in JLPT which is the official examination to determine one's Japanese proficiency level. I did study "unorganizedly" for a few months, but eventually lost interest and gave up. I lost sight of whatever purpose there was for pursuing it. I just saw it as a way to distract myself.

0 notes

onisrn · 7 years ago

Text

Right so im aboutta rant and maybe just write out possibly all my thoughts here from the past week okay cue:

So lets start from where i amn right now. Im in self care mood: Ive got the salt lamp and my bedside lamp on, my pink faiyrlights on, my scented Yankjee candle lighted, a mug of milky mint hot chocolate next to the laptop, my room smells of vanilla because i put on that air freshener thing (the one that you plug in), Ive got sami yusuf playing (Inna fil jannati). The reason for my self-care-y-ness: i was feeling real bad about the past and how i let certain people just idk you know what im on about see the last post (mahena).

So thats what was bothering me when i came home. My friends whjo i told (komal and zaynab reza) were so incredibly nice to me and i miss them so much (zbr is in isloo but yk still) and i wish we met each day lijke we used to and i wish i valued them more and i wish i valued the people who care about me and not fiocus on the bad stuff from yuears ago so much. anyway im good nbow. inshallah.

honestly man teenagers do not get enough credit for the stuff we go through. like not me per se i guess i bgvecame kinda strong after olevels and decided to get my priorities right and stuff and majorly that was because of my religiousd family. but what about the other people my age? like just all the hoprmones and the mood swings that are not your fault. and the crushes (wqait for it. next to next para) and the just trying to figure out who you are and stru8ggling eith confidence and choosing what you want to do in life and friends and all that drama asnd insecurities and man just growing up. and then theres the added like boyfriends and what not who dont have religion or who are in families where its fine or whatever. like mahena hgerself must be going through/havwe gone through quite some ish like boyfriend and friends and rama and boys that like you zand dealing with them and all that crtap and peer pressure and its so much harder to not do gunahs depending on who you hang out with and the studoes are so difficukt and stressful and the responsibiulities and it’s not fun being too young for some thingsd and too old for some ugh teenagers deserve more credit man. but evrrything becomes a hundred thousand times better when i knowe that i hgave allah and the imams and the prophet and quran. but what about those who dont have that connection with allah and they dont know to develop it? im blessed that im from a religious family and i was fortunate enough top get my priorities kinda right but wehat about the poeople who dont have relihgion or allah? i honestlyt dont understand how pople can function or survive e=ven a second without having that “there is something greater than this” feeling. I feel so bad for people my age i love thjem so much theyre so dstrong ❤ (ok i dont love them i hate ppl my age but yk we dont get credit asnd we go tyhrough some ish that we just need to get through ourselves in most cases opr take advice from friends our age whop also dont reaslly know what theyre on about)

honestkly man i feel like if someone needs a soulmate at any age its when youre a teenager. youre just going through so much and all alone. sometimes you just need someone wholl loisten to y7ou and give you advice and who you know wont judge you and who your insecurities shut up with. Like yeah i know youre too young to be married in all senses and have kids etc etc and ypouire not mature enough to choose who you sopend the rest of your life with but like, skipping all that if you find the person somehow and tehyre perfect for u etc etc then it would just be so cool to have someone at this age idk i feel. anyway this got weird **I dont want to get married right now disclaimer disclaimer**

ok on a totally unrelated topiuc theres this guy in both business and econ and i really dont want to talk about it or itllk drill it in more gut yeah theres really nothing to tell. theres this guy in biz and econ whos kinda cute not hot like cute in a cute lil boy way its quite endearing but yeah you guessed it i maybe kinda like idk idek why

you know what? since we came back from iran sometimes I’ll be in class (business. it’s boring and the last class so i be tired) so while im in class sometimes ill start crying (not all out, like no one sees me (I hope)) because i just want be there sdo bad. first ot was iran, qom, but now i want to go to karbala so badly i just die to go there ive never wanted to be there so bad away from this worldy life i want to go to the land thats a piece of jannah i want to be away from this worldy fickle life i want to be close to my imams i dont mind if its karbala or even iran or umrah i have a poster of imam husayn’s haram in my room and i look at it and cry and i have the Karbala chgannel thing on snapchat and they keep posting snaps where theres just standing in the middle of baynul haramayn and the dome in front and people walking by and i want to be there so bad my heart breaks and yearsn to be there but icant go there at least till june because the cruel CIE people kept one last small 1 hpour MCQs exam way in June so that my exams are just hanging in the air not dfinished until that dratted paper and im stuck here anyway probably for the better buyt i want to be there so bad i cant express it

today i was reading in mikyal what it will be like when the imam comes and he will call out to the people in th emiddle opf the night and theyll be in worship or asleep and theyll hear him and will all reach Makkah and i want that so bad but im scared what if i falter at the last minute what if im not strong enough what if i lose sight of the ultimate goal that is Allah what is my own worldly desires cloud my vision what if I’m not strong enough Im so scaswred fopr that time man all my sins will cpount against me i so scared i wont be on my side im so scared ill falter at the last minute or pride of my deeds will cloud up my vision or make everyuthing worthless im so scared what if i falter

#anyway idk if ive been thinking anything else in the past week #gonna go to sleep now #i started writing thisd at like midnight #thursday #25th jan #12:44am

0 notes

dreamingaboutcountingstars · 7 years ago

Text

Whoo finally done with midterms!

It’s been a crazy past two weeks. I’m not really sure where to begin because so much has happened!

I’ll probably make some more in depth posts because I’ve wanted to sit and ruminate over everything for a while but for now... I can finally relax!

So I spent last weekend at home in LA with my bf, my family, my friends, and my martial arts family. I was there from Thursday night to Sunday and honestly it was so nice. I didn’t even realize how much I had missed the connections and communities and just LA in general. I only had two full days in LA so sadly I wasn’t able to see a bunch of people, including kasamas and other friends, but I’m still grateful for the chance be home, even for a short while, and affirm the love and relationships I’m so lucky to have.

And then I flew back to DC! I arrived Sunday night, unpacked and immediately repacked because the net morning I was leaving for my work retreat at an eco-lodge in Maryland. It was a gorgeous cabin we all had for two and a half days of bonding (and ironing out organizational stuff). There were even goats and sheep! And even though leaving LA was a little heartbreaking, I am very grateful to be part of an organization that constantly seeks to improve, build each other up, and center our work in the movement. Even though it was exhausting, it was also inspiring to be united in our vision for a more just, equal, peaceful world and to plan out our work with a new, larger, better, team! 💪🏽

And then we came back in time for me to immediately do my regularly schedule research work for my professor and to get my midterm back for Environmental Econ, where I did pretty well considering I didn’t really study.

Work and more work for two days and then Friday, I started my skills institute on Real World Strategic Planning. It was a lot of information and I thought really helpful, but like everything else, it was also really exhausting. I’m not sure I’m a fan of weekend seminars just because it went from after work on Friday to all day Saturday and Sunday. And I was already so exhausted by the time it happened (and I missed out on a work reception and another retreat since they conflicted) and it just meant I didn’t get any recovery time.

I also went out with a coworker/good friend on Sunday for Halloween, which was a lot of fun and much needed social time.

Then I had a paper proposal due and a homework assignment on Monday.

Tuesday my work had a Facebook Live event with a Congressmen on US complicity in Yemen and I lead on social media preparation for North Korea legislation to prevent a first-strike scenario, which was exciting in the sense that I feel like I’m growing professionally but also exhausting.

And today, I had another econ assignment and a quiz due, in addition to research work and a meeting with my professor.

And throughout all of that, I had to sort out registering for classes, dealing with admin stuff so I could register for a particular class, meet with my graduate advisor, and attempt to wrangle some semblance of order in everything, including returns, chores, etc. Plus dealing with some drama, which is fine but contributes to my anxiety and is emotionally taxing for me.

So now, I finally can take a breather! Whew. I’m still behind on a lot of stuff but for now, the worst is over and I can take a few days to try to recover. I have a dinner date with some friends planned on Friday, which I’m excited about because I haven’t seen them in a while. And I signed up for an extra BA gig to make some extra cash on the side because I’ve been spending a little too much money lately...

But as of right now, school will be somewhat less intense, at least for the next two weeks, so I’ll try to engage in some self-care and more importantly, sleep!

#personal #updates #thoughts

0 notes

lunar-stories-blog · 8 years ago

Text

I Mean Business: Misty Goh

Poster designed by Josephine Chang.

What's your name?

I go by Misty, but officially it's Yu Xi Goh (吴宇希).

How would you define yourself as a creative?

I’m going to be Creative Development Intern at Fullscreen Media this summer, but I actually wouldn't define myself as a creative, though I have a vision in everything I do. That does include thinking outside of the box, but that doesn't include an artistic sense.

For example, this year I am Production Manager at Chelsea Music Festival, so the biggest part is building a team, finding interns, as well as programming. I don't know a lot about classical music. I don't know the difference between Bach's first symphony and the second, but I know that night is about Bach.

I’m also co-producing a new film called Ripple. It’s a senior thesis written and directed by Min-Wei Lee, and it’s based on a true story. It’s an all Asian cast and super diverse creative team.

So you're more behind the scenes, in terms of production?

Yes.

But you're a cinema studies major?

Yes. So I started out as an Econ major, and I realized very quickly that although I was okay at it, I wasn't having fun nor was I enjoying the competitiveness. So I wanted to do something that I liked. Since high school, I've always really liked performing arts, so I thought Cinema Studies would allow me free time to do internships and things I like. In the end I can still produce films. The goal is not to be a director, like I said I'm not a creative. The goal isn't to be an actor, either. So I guess I'm looking at the corporate, business side that Cinema Studies allows me to do.

How would you describe or define your Asian identity?

First and foremost, I am from Singapore, so I think of that as home. I was born there. I go back every year. A lot of my culture, my tradition is definitely from there that I try to bring here as well.

How would you say that applies to your work?

Right now there are a lot of pressing issues with diversity, especially in film, you know, Oscars So White, and other global movements. I think in film even though it's white, rarely do you see people of Asian descent, so that is really important to me when I think about casting, who's working behind the scenes. For this current short film that I'm producing I'm trying to think of not only an all women behind the scenes crew but also include more people of color and Asians. Same with the music festival. I mean, if you look at classical music it's predominantly white, but if you look at behind the scenes there are more people of color. Not everyone can afford to play the violin. It's something about class that you can't avoid with that sort of industry. I'm always thinking about including all these different people to work with to better the environment.

“Right now there are a lot of pressing issues with diversity, especially in film, Oscars So White, and other global movements. I think in film even though it's white, rarely do you see people of Asian descent, so that is really important to me when I think about casting, who's working behind the scenes.”

I remember we were talking about your internships with production companies, kind of their attitudes towards this industry's treatment of women and people of color...

Yeah. So I was really lucky to have been working with Wild Obscura films. Basically it's two female bosses--one's mostly a producer and one's a director, though each does both. The first day I came in, they said to me, you know we stand up for women, that's what we do here. If anyone says anything sexist, racist, or ableist or anything against you, you should come talk to us about it. Though we can't do much to change the industry, we can refuse to work with that person. So that gave me a lot of confidence and comfort knowing that they're a small company they're willing to do so much, just for an intern. I just think it's commendable to be able to stand up to that. It's so easy to think, you just have to suck up, you just have to adhere to it so that you can rise above the ranks later on, but the fact that they're doing this, it meant a lot to me.

Do you identify as a person of color, and what does that mean for you in America?

I think everyone in Singapore is a person of color. Racial harmony is a big part of Singapore. In the U.S., I think I've been lucky enough to be a part of communities where there are a lot of people of color, be it my boarding school, be it NYU, so I don't feel out of it. But I definitely identify as a person of color.

So you went to boarding school in the States for high school. Do you want to talk about that experience, and do you feel American at all? Is it a part of your identity?

I do have the accent, so that's funny. It was sort of an interesting experience because I'm definitely more Americanized than my friends in Singapore, my friends from Singapore here, but it's also because I've lived in this country for so long, and I've always been going to American schools.

But if you met someone, you wouldn't say I'm American.

No, definitely not. I think in the legal sense that'd be a lie. I feel like if I were to call someplace home, it'd definitely be Singapore.

So do you see yourself moving back to Singapore and living there?

The industry there is so small, it is growing though. I think this year we had two films go to Cannes, we just won something at Sundance, which is very exciting. I think a sound mixer from Singapore was just nominated for an Oscar, for La La Land. So there's hope that the industry will grow, but for the next 5-10 years, I think the U.S., Europe or maybe China is a better place to learn, to develop and build my career before I go home.

Earlier you talked about Asian communities and having that at NYU...

I definitely have a Singapore circle of friends as well as this literature circle that is mostly Singaporean. It's not exactly a book club, it's a potluck so you just bring in stuff, and you have all of these Pulitzer-prize winning, New York Times bestselling authors and here they are, just sitting in someone's living room reading for an hour. You make really interesting friends from all walks of life, they might not even be in the art community, most are, but you get people from architecture, business. It's called Singapore Unbound and they curate the Singapore Literature Festival and Second Saturdays readings mentioned above. Sometimes it's poetry night, other night it's more short stories, they also have open mics as well. I just think it's a really nice community.

Do you feel like there's much of a community within Tisch?

I transferred into Tisch so I was maybe two years late because I also did a semester abroad. So I think this is my first year actually in Tisch and even then I spend half my time at Stern doing my minor in BEMT, so I don't feel a sense of community in Tisch or even in terms of NYU. Of course we have friends that go to NYU but at the end of the day I don't think we're friends because of NYU. I guess yes because we met there, but I don't think we meet at NYU, we don't talk about NYU, other than, oh shit I have an exam coming up.

“The first day I came in, they said to me, you know we stand up for women, that's what we do here. If anyone says anything sexist, racist, or ableist or anything against you, you should come talk to us about it. Though we can't do much to change the industry, we can refuse to work with that person. So that gave me a lot of confidence and comfort knowing that they're a small company they're willing to do so much, just for an intern.”

You transferred into Tisch from Econ, and you told me that in high school you were planning on going into physics. How did that decision come about and how did your parents take it?

I was really involved with physics in high school, but I was putting the same amount of hours in labs as I was in theater, because I was stage managing all of the productions as school. I was working late nights, figuring out the cast and crew with the director, all of these problems on set...so I don't think it was that unnatural for me to switch from Econ to Tisch.

My parents are very liberal and supportive of me going into anything as long as I was happy, so I'm really fortunate to have that.

When you tell people that you switched from Econ to Cinema Studies, do they usually not see the connection?

Definitely, but I do think some aspects of the market is interesting, it's important to know what's going on. It's also just nice to be in the arts. You know your future is going to be about managing your own finances and to be able to know how to do that yet also manage your own stuff, is nice.

We've been interviewing a lot of artistic people, but part of what we wanted was diversity and intersectionality and just things that you wouldn't expect, and I think your work and what you want to do in the industry is very...people don't think about that aspect.

My culture is very practical. If you think about the Singaporeans at NYU, 90% are probably in Stern or Econ just because they want a stable job and they want to graduate. Not many people are in the arts. It's been driven into our minds that Singapore is just this small red dot, like we have to fend for ourselves in this big world. It's not like we're “old money” because we're not--we're such a young country. There's so many different factors that put us out there and I feel like in order to make it visible we're growing more and more materialistic. I think Singapore is the most expensive place to live in in the world. It's crazy.

So to be able to sustain that, there are so many different choices we have to make--like sacrificing marriage until later in life, limiting your number of kids, relationships, career trajectories. That's why we're driven to more practical solutions to financial problems. It's not just that our parents want to be lawyers, doctors. They want us to sustain ourselves. I think we think in terms of 5 years from now instead of next month or next year.

Have you ever felt, in the film industry or in life in general, that your identity as an Asian person has influenced the way that people treat you?

I have been hired for being Asian. I mean, the reason I got so far with the music festival is because I can speak Chinese. The reason I could do so much in Paris was because I can speak Chinese, I can read Chinese. I don't think that being Asian is such a bad thing. (laughs) Especially with the market going to China, and especially being able to speak English and Chinese and being able to work in a professional setting in both. And French is just a bonus. So I think that knowing what people in China want, what people in America want, finding those similarities that those share, and finding out how to market a film in that way, that's very desirable for most production companies.

But so many investors are going to Hollywood from China, like HuaYi Brothers had a major part in The Edge of Seventeen. That's why the lead guy was Asian! He's a Chinese guy who plays a Korean, but I'm okay with it. (laughs) Baby steps. So things like that give me hope in the industry. I do think we're moving forward. I think being able to sort of know what we want here in America and compare that to what they want in China, which is definitely the blockbuster action type...I'm not sure if I'll end up having that kind of job, but it would be a nice job to have, sort of connecting the two and being that bridge. That's the dream.

Interview by Elaine Lo and Amy Ni.

Find Misty’s upcoming film, Ripple, on Facebook here.

#misty goh #interview #film #film industry #film production

0 notes

moodyf0ody · 8 years ago

Text

Introspection

It’s March! February has been a crazy month, I think so? Or was it the start of March? I don’t even keep track of dates anymore, everyday just passes and I just try my best to get my responsibilities done for the day. Everything that went by has been a blur, but some of the events have been so significant that I can’t help but learn from them.

1) Reflecting on Class Time I realise how boring my teachers are. Really BMS is so repetitive but I still don’t know how to apply so I really think our teachers should give us more homework, including more essays and case studies. We’re getting so much less than the Science students and it may be that the Social Science teachers think that since their subjects are a little easier to understand, they don’t have to pressure us. Of course we have the option of doing our own work and passing it up to them, but how can we know which are the best questions to attempt, and if they’ll ACTUALLY mark it?! Damn it!

ESS is such a drag, the presentations in class are better than having her present. But still, it’s a damn Science subject, you’re supposed to explain the concept to us first, not have us speculate about it. How does it make sense that our teacher has to study before she can answer our questions, especially when our questions are PURELY subject matter we don’t understand from the textbook? I also feel like the textbook does not even explain things, it just states them. What even is ESS? Why are my answers so different from the marking scheme. How am I supposed to find the time to practice questions also? How do you apply the damn thing!

Maths is fine because maths just always makes sense, I think? I’m not practicing enough and I hate that! I guess I’m so swamped with my other activities but I shouldn’t make any excuses. I”m not efficient enough. Nevertheless, my Maths teacher does not inspire me to see the Maths in the world. Bummer! I think that is her job!

The languages on the other hand have been so so enriching. English has had me thinking about how people should use language to convey important issues to each other. It has me thinking about how powerful language can be if the user of it has something to say. If only there people who were willing to listen and dwell upon the words, too! But of course, since so many people abuse the language and use it to maybe hurt people (NOT constructive criticism), it could be disastrous. However, I wish my English teacher knew more about the world because she doesn’t seem 100% aware on global issues, OR SO SHE SEEMS. I want more from her, more insight, more cultural artifacts that I can refer to. Oh, but I was pleasantly surprised when she brought in the John Barleycorn piece and I took about half an hour just trying to read one paper of it. But I made the correlation that John Barleycorn was not a person but a drink and it turned out to be what the author intended. That was when I started thinking, shit, that’s how it works! Everything is a fucking metaphor, people ARE actually saying EXACTLY what they mean, but NOT EXACTLY at FACE VALUE. It just depends on who’s listening.

My Malay teacher just has a way of telling us things, she doesn’t need to have tons of knowledge about global issues, but I think she would be elevated onto as Ruth says, ‘unicorn level’ if she did. I love the concepts that she uses, and her energy is infectious! I nearly never fall asleep in Malay class. We started on our Reflective Statements and Written Assignments, and I think it’ll be interesting for me to discover which issues I am inclined towards. So far, it’s the negative issues portrayed by Naguib Mahfouz in Midaq Alley. Midaq Alley is so much fun, it’s so funny, ridicules the Arab society, reaches out to women and just makes me reflect upon the many characters in my own culture. I feel like I am so shielded from the bad in my country, I need to find more holes to peek through. Btw we just got a sneak peek at what we’ll be tested on in Paper 1 and it’s really cool how it works. I can’t wait to do more research on my Malay culture and history to understand why we do what we do and say what we say. Why is it that materialism is so prominent in this culture, and women oppression, and social status, and religion is sometimes used as an excuse, and also how religion can be a saviour? It’s so very exciting! I just came across some twitter accounts of Malaysian designers collecting some of our cultural artifacts, and I feel a certain way when I learn about my roots. But I only see the beautiful parts of it, I haven’t taken the time to really go through the dirt :/ I’m excited to see how my teacher tackles Madame Bovary, so far, I’m not really a fan of it. I like the element of how Emma is so brainwashed by romantic novels though, kinda seems like Flaubert’s mockery towards writers who write to do just that. Hm!

Econs is the same as business. Sometimes, it’s really interesting but I think my teacher’s VOICE is just so sleepy. I like how she provides us with a lot of materials though (kind of a lot). Some tutorials and calculations, and she mixes things up in class sometimes. We just started learning about GDP and I’m thinking, how the hell do they do it in real life man? Going door to door obtaining all the data, and with all the possible inaccuracies, wow I’m excited to learn more about Econometrics. Intimated as well to be honest with ya. Although I really wish she could make relations to real life situations, like the economic conditions of our country at least you know. I mean I don’t have enough time to do the research and exploring, I have 6 subjects, isn’t she supposed to give it to me? Make use of class time?

2) MPAC Wow, I don’t even know where to start with this one. We had 3 weeks of prior notice about the MEGAFAIR performance. It wasn’t a normal skit, it had a theme, intended audience, NO fee, and it was a half hour play. Yeap. I had a small team of 20, barely any with experience and no guidance whatsoever from the teachers. But we had this one senior, and input from Ruth’s friends from sekolah seni.

“If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants”- Sir Isaac Newton

This is how we managed to come up with our masterpiece, Nasi Lemak Mawar. We had many problems with the storyline and the script. Our first one was entertaining and funny, but we didn’t give it enough thought. We thought that anything that kind of made sense was okay. Then we received some negative reviews, an especially terribly negative review from YK, but it was exactly what we needed. For many days our teachers were telling us, “It’s not - MEGAFAIR. Think about your audience. You’re supposed to be talking about semangat kejihadan usahamanan! We were not getting it, we were overattached to our script and we were uninspired.

Until, our senior told us, your plot is completely unrealistic, no one will learn anything from it, it’s a plot with a lot of holes. He pointed out the exact scenes and parts of the plot he had a problem with, and we got it. We finally understood. So that night we called him to brainstorm with us, and he was so willing to do it. It was awesome. Ruth’s friend suggested a simple plot, giving the teachers exactly what they wanted. But that’s just it, before this our conflict was between what the teachers wanted and what we had. Which is in other terms, boring shit and some funny ass shit! And on our first night of practice, our story was incredibly boring. INCREDIBLY BORING. I was like, this is not it. This is not gonna work. We’re doomed.

At the end of that practice, we gathered together and I was not sensing any excitement from the crew. From my experience, I thought that an indicator of an entertaining play would be that the cast are dying to watch their friends’ scenes. And I didn’t see any of that. Everyone looked like they had something to say, and someone mentioned that we bring a new character to life, someone who actually matters. I realised how in a play, your characters should impact the plot, audience or the characters. And that was really missing from our play. We started brainstorming like crazy. I felt so enlightened and happy that other people were giving input. And it was golden input!

Later that night, I couldn’t imagine myself sleeping, knowing that my story was not at its best. So I forced Ruth and Haleens to stay up with me and build this damn script. So we got the rough idea of things and since Haleena is great at doing things impromptu, and so is Ruth, they decided that we don’t fuss over a script. We see what the actors do. Ruth suggested that we build the character around what Haleena and Syahmi could do as well. And later on, as I developed the script (little by little) I found myself building my lines around my friends’ personalities.

Practice was lots of fun, and the ideas were flowing. However, it was hard because some of us had homework and other commitments sometimes, people didn’t really speak their minds. Ruth was supposed to be my assistant director but she spend most of her time just clinging to Karam. I hated having to repeat myself when people were not being attentive, and when people came late. But I found that delegating tasks really helped me, because honestly there is a shiit load to do.

I got the inspiration to show her visions for the business from a movie I watched, The Princess and the Frog and made a little dance to it. I was committed on that, because I knew that would add a lot of value to our play andI was right. My friends were cooperative as well, but I faced some issues with the music. Thank God, from a movie I watched, “Ferris beuller’s day off” I thought of another song, an even more perfect song to play. And it was a great decision because it was so much more upbeat.

In the end, I had to make a proper play so that the sound and lighting people could follow (I made sure to assign some people here!) and most importantly to get the flow of the play. Otherwise, you would have people talking over each other and lines that are kind of lame coming out. So a script is motherfkg improtant. Also, we found utility hahaha in doing lines without the script and actions in a circle, running lines lah.

For backstage stuff, Amin and I carefully assigned who would be carrying what in and out, and we made sure we practiced these transitions, also within a time limit. This was the part that the audience laughed at because of how fast my actors did it, and how LOUDLY they did it HAHAHA. It was really funny. This part was super stressful, but the actors were really independent and they were mainly alert, even at 1 am! Also, I told the sound managers exactly what they had to do, and told the actors exactly where their props had to be and where they had to be. This took a lot of time but it was very worth it, because it was very smooth. We took the time to practice with the EVER SO COOPERATIVE sound and lighting crew and we were so relieved that we did.

Then it was showtime, and everyone came to watch. Even my family members! The audience was roaring and they were so into the play. However, my mum said the dance sequence was too short. But people still loved it so so much! They thought it was adorable, well-thought out, easy to follow and a good way to promote MARA. I loved how it turned out as well, finding it impossible to accept the credit because I knew it was not one person. It was 100% collaborative and it was beautiful! I learnt so so so much from this experience and I am so grateful to have the support from Karam, Ruth, my parents. To be surrounded by the super talented and hilarious actors I had. For the ideas and inspirations from the art all around us, and from the people as well. I feel so much closer to the school because I have put in a little part of me inside. Hm.

0 notes