“all triggers are valid” or discourse around policing triggers applies to things in the scope of being triggered by a movie, being triggered by pictures of clouds, being triggered by neon lights, being triggered by the smell of honey, things that are politically neutral, not shit like being triggered by gay people, trans people, poc, etc.
It was a story that made headlines around the world.
An all-girl team from Afghanistan applied for visas to come to the First Global Challenge, an international robotics competition taking place in Washington, D.C. this week.
And their visa request was denied.
They weren’t the only team to face visa hurdles. The team from Gambia — two girls and three boys — was also denied when they first applied.
“Having no hope to come, we still worked,” says the team’s captain, 18-year-old Alieu Bah. “We never give up, no matter how hard the condition is. That’s how we pushed and pushed and pushed until we finally reapplied and got our visa, and here we are now.”
How do you like keeping arboreals as opposed to ground living snakes? Is it a lot harder?
I wouldn’t say it’s necessarily harder; it just has its own set of challenges. Arboreal snakes tend to have different issues come up regarding husbandry and enrichment–for example, when I rescued my Amazon tree boa, the guy who abandoned her said she would never perch and that’s why he didn’t want her (along with the horrible mite infestation she came with).
It turned out she just didn’t like the perches he was providing her and once I gave her something that allowed her more points of contact, she started perching during the day a lot more. Animals seldom do things for no reason and part of being a good keeper is trying to troubleshoot these problems from the animal’s perspective.
Arboreal snakes also tend to behave a little differently in regards to handling. In my experience they tend to be more alert and high strung (this doesn’t necessarily mean aggressive, it might just mean you need to pay more attention to where your fingers are moving around when you handle them to avoid startling them). Treating mites on arboreals can be a bigger ordeal since I’ve found that they’re more susceptible to getting stressed by the bathing process.
I practice what I call “husbandry handling” with my ATB because she’s a slightly nervous animal who prefers not to be handled often–however, I need to be able to do it with as little fuss and stress as possible in case she ever got sick or injured and needed hands-on medical treatment. This basically means I take her out on a regular basis and practice touching gently all over her body in the ways I might need to in order to provide medical assistance, but try to make it as stress-free and short as possible. She prefers to be a hands-off pet, and that’s fine! She’s still pretty chill for an ATB and I’m grateful she’s tolerant of husbandry handling.
Holly, on the other hand, is very laid back and doesn’t mind being handled. I’ve met CBB chondros that were much more nervous and didn’t like handling at all, so this seems to be a matter of individual temperament. She had an infected tooth last year from hitting the tongs and I was able to get in her mouth to treat it with relatively little fuss and stress for her.
This got a lot longer than I meant it to, so I guess the TL;DR version is that keeping arboreals is definitely different, but not necessarily harder if you have the experience and resources to do it properly. I’ve only kept chondros and Amazon tree boas though as far as arboreals go so that’s about all I can speak for.
1. Some people aren’t meant to be a part of your life. If they want to leave, let them. Don’t fight for someone to stay if they fight to go. 2. Your value is not determined by others. A masterpiece is still a masterpiece, even when the lights are turned off and no one’s around to appreciate it. 3. Be grateful, even for the little things - especially for the little things. They are what makes life so wonderful. 4. Always take your time to let go, to move on and to heal. It doesn’t matter if you need a week, a month or a year to find closure. Just don’t rush. Take as much time as you need and find your own pace. 5. Be brave enough to try new things. Don’t shy away from challenges, who knows where you’ll end up? 6. Don’t be afraid of change - it’s always around the corner anyway. Think about what kind of person you were this time last year and how much you’ve transformed during the last 365 days. Truth is we don’t stay the same. No one does. So embrace the change in you. 7. Think of something you’re absolutely terrified of, then do it. Get out of your comfort zone. You’ll feel invincible noticing that you’ve accomplished things that seemed impossible only weeks ago.
8. Pay attention to details. A person may look entirely different to you once you put in some effort to get to know them, and to get to know all of them. The same rule applies to everything around you: your environment, your relationships and also yourself.
9. You don’t have to be in a relationship to feel loved. We often disregard the sings of affection our family and friends show us because we crave romantic gestures. Don’t discredit this kind of love - your family and your friends are the ones who stay.
10. “Good things come to those who wait” - do they? I don’t think so. Good things come to those who get back on their feet when they were torn down. They come to those who just begin, begin fighting for what they want, begin giving their all to get where they want to be.
hi everyone, i hate to make a post like this but we don’t feel that we have any other option right now. my girlfriend and i are living together and struggling with money. i am essentially broke and the little money she has left is all going towards food.
i am currently trying to earn some money by doing freelance work proofreading and editing but it’s extremely slow and i have yet to make anything at all. i am applying to jobs around town as often as possible and hoping to hear back from them.
my girlfriend was recently hired but due to the time it takes to order and ship her uniform as well as scheduling the actual work we are not expecting her to get a paycheck for at least 3 more weeks.
we would both be extremely grateful if anyone would be willing to donate to us. if anyone has freelance work for me i would be more than happy to do that. neither of us are artists or writers or anything but we’re trying to think of ways that we could give back.
i also have an unused starbucks gift card worth $25 that i’m trying to get rid of. if someone donates that amount i can send you the gift card.
my paypal is email@example.com. please only donate if you’re financially comfortable enough to do so, and please boost this post. thank you guys.
There’s an undeniable crime problem in Los Santos, an affluent city rife with thieves and bandits of all pedigrees, which isn’t in itself all that strange. What’s odd is the incredibly high number of unsolved crimes, of acts no one claims, ones that the LSPD can’t even begin to lay blame for. Even when committed in broad daylight, even when the police arrive on the scene in the middle of a heist, no one manages to catch more than unclear glimpses of the culprits, no bullets hit their marks, and when all is said and done there is somehow never any reliable evidence. No camera ever manages to catch a thing, no trap is ever successful, and never has a single witness managed a coherent report, like somehow none of them ever pay enough attention. Like somehow what they’ve seen can never be put into words.
Throw a stone and you’ll hit a crook in Los Santos, from thugs to conmen to masked killers they all call the city home, all know their place, yet somehow the balance of powers never really makes sense. Like something is missing, like everyone’s fighting to be second best while the title of top dog goes empty. Not that the reluctance to take charge is all that surprising, considering the way any crew which starts to grow big enough to extend their hold over the city is cut down. Driven out or found murdered, often laying in the remains of what was clearly a vicious shoot-out, though the killers are never found. Like vigilantes, only not nearly so altruistic; the spoils belonging to the defeated gangs are always taken, and only reappear at the scene of yet another unclaimed crime.
There’s a crew in Los Santos, so ingrained in the essence of the city itself no one seems to remember how things were before they arrived. The Fake AH Crew; legends in some circles, monsters in others, both consummate enigmas and borderline celebrities, the crew with the world at their feet. The main six players of the inner circle aren’t odd, exactly, each criminals of great renown but still holding pretty standard goals, greedy and bloodthirsty and perhaps more loyal than most but still acting well within their given standard of normalcy. They aren’t unusual, really, but these days they do have their little quirks.
As the leader Geoff has always had to present himself as reasonably level-headed, controlled outside the occasional snaps of frightful anger, a little overbearing in his need to dictate every plan maybe, but what criminal kingpin isn’t? What’s odd is the new fear kept behind closed doors, Geoff second-guessing his own ideas to a degree that is wholly out of character, running over plans again and again, pulling them apart and looking for flaws, debriefing even after successful missions when everyone else just wants to celebrate, unconsciously pressing his hand to his heart like reassurance that it’s still beating.
Jack drives like she’s made a deal with the devil, like every vehicle is just an extension of her being, inherent ability paired with unmatchable knowledge of every backroad and alley in the city. What’s odd is the nightmarish daydreams she gets sometimes, when she looks back at her latest baby and sees flickers of crunched metal and shattered glass, the phantom scent of spilled gasoline and the unmissable click-whoosh of catching flame.
For all his quick temper and flippant attitude Michael can be utterly pedantic about checking and rechecking the timers on bombs, which honestly isn’t an awful trait in the resident explosives guy. What’s odd is the way Michael gets angry about it sometimes, storms about the penthouse yanking out every last alarm clock, the way he swears he can still hear something ticking with furious intention, like the last seconds of a countdown.
He may be happier in a no-holds-barred fist-fight but nobody could say Jeremy isn’t good with a gun, an excellent shot with just about any weapon he can get his hands on. What’s odd is the little burst of panic he gets right after firefights, patting down his own chest, checking again and again like he can’t quite believe he wasn’t hit.
Ryan isn’t wracked by guilt, doesn’t regret what he does the way some might; he’s a killer and he owns it, he chose it, and it truly doesn’t bother him. What’s odd is the way he still can’t sleep, can’t close his eyes some nights when the darkness squeezes close and he feels so cold, like the depths of the ocean are pressing down on him, stealing the air from his lungs.
In terms of his own safety Gavin is as reckless as they come, all slapdash impulses and delighted disregard, chasing amusement at any cost when it’s only his own neck on the line. What’s odd is that sometimes Gavin walks around with a parachute strapped to his back and no intention of flying that day, utterly overzealous precaution without any real explanation as to why, like some part of him is always terrified that he’s going to fall.
Maybe the Fake’s know, on their worst days, that something isn’t quite right, something about them has gone awry, but the concern never lingers in the face of their unmatched success. Because a crew’s a crew, right? Maybe they’re a little luckier than most, maybe they’ve been unstoppable for so long it feels like no one else is really trying, like they are the merciless gods of their city. Maybe they catch themselves drifting sometimes, losing time or memories or thoughts or scars. Maybe they all know something is not quite right, a distant siren in the back of their minds begging them to pay attention, but surely it doesn’t mean anything.
You can romanticise it all you want, call them the scariest, the most dangerous, devastatingly talented in all the worst ways, but at the end of the day all humans are flawed and all crews will fall. Whether or not falling is enough to shake them from their throne is, however, a completely different issue. If a crew dies in the woods (the city, the sky, the sea), and nobody is brave enough to tell them, did it even happen?
There’s an empty penthouse in Los Santos, one that cannot be sold, one no one likes to talk about, not really. What has been said is that the door sticks sometimes, cannot be opened no matter how much force is applied. What has been said is that things move around all on their own, new stains reveal themselves and furniture appears and disappears like someone’s been squatting, but the dust is too thick for anyone to have visited. What’s been said makes shivers run down spines, hair stand on edge, gives rise to furtive glances and shared discomfort, an unspoken agreement never to return.
Maybe this alone wouldn’t be such a problem, maybe owning the most prestigious penthouse in a city overrun by wealth would be enough to attract some sceptic, but there is of course the matter of the previous owners. The most despicable, untouchable, indelible criminal gang the city had ever seen. Has ever seen, even this long after their passing. They died, at some point. No one quite remembers when, or how, no one really seems to talk about them anymore, not beyond wild stories of their antics, amazing heists and unspeakable terrors fading off into silence, like they did in the end. How bizarre it is that the crime levels didn’t actually drop even after they were gone.
There’s something deeply wrong in Los Santos, something strange and unsettling, like a catastrophic event has knocked the whole city just slightly out of sync with the rest of the world. It’s in the way the LSPD have cabinet upon cabinet of unsolved crimes that never manage to make their way into reports, years of unacceptably unpunished offences that would bring the might of a federal investigation if only they were disclosed. In the way a startling amount of those offences resemble crimes from days long past, copycat plans following acts of a crew long buried, new targets hit with the same old flare, methods and motives impressively in-character down to the smallest details.
There are secrets in Los Santos. Things no one knows, things everyone knows, an awful, impossible, inescapable reality they’ve all been trapped within. It’s in the way unease builds and dissipates without cresting, citizens never quite recognising their own discomfort, never fully acknowledging the oddity of acting without reason, of crossing the street or averting their eyes, of taking the long way home simply because that one corner just didn’t feel right. In the way the city is beset by sudden inexplicable explosions, the way gunfire rattles without a source, the way empty streets echo with chilling laughter like the ghost of a memory, the phantom chill of a nightmare, the ceaseless loop of those who will not be laid to rest.
Here we are, with this new tutorial of
mine. This is like my third tutorial about my icons, since I’ve improved a lot and I’m happy that people would like to know my way of doing so
WHAT YOU NEED
A bit of photoshop vocabulary knowledge
Being a bit able to make icons
(I think it is very difficult to start making icons, it requires a lot of time
and dedication, seriously at least for me LOL)
Don’t use this tutorial if you want to recreate a tutorial like this(?), just use it as a base for your icons, piece of advice to make your own icons, since that some things that I learnt was thanks to other tutorials from youtube and Tumblr, that I really thank a lot. Some Others were thanks to my lil creativity, and the fact that I love experimenting things
I just want to say that even if eremika doesn’t become canon we can all still enjoy and love it. This really goes for any ship. Not getting canon is not the death of a ship. Everything you loved about it is still there. Canon is nice but it’s not necessary. Trust me it hurts like bitch to see your ship go down but after sometime you can still continue love your ship.
And we if we do get canon telling other people to leave because they aren’t canon is bullshit. If you do that then your trash. I don’t care how stupid the antis are don’t go around saying shit.
We won’t disappear if we don’t become canon and neither will other ships. Don’t be those people that act like canon means you own the whole manga and now your ship rules over the manga.
Again I’m talking to eremika because that’s what my blog is about but this applies to all ships, even ones not from this fandom.
Im tired of seeing this attitude in my other fandom and I pray I don’t see that shit here too. Especially if it’s us that get blessed with canon.
Writer and artist applications are open until June 14th!
Welcome to the first (to my knowledge) JJBA fanzine with a medical theme! Check out the links below for more information about the zine, as well as instructions about how to apply (I promise it’s a painless process). Don’t hesitate to contact me with any questions (on or off anon), and please signal boost this so that the zine can reach as wide an audience as possible! I’m hoping for a variety of creative talents to be featured in this zine, and I would hate for anyone to be left out because they didn’t see the option to apply. <3
So! Tomorrow is @plastic-pipes’ birthday and since I was never given a prompt, I figured I’d just base this birthday ficlet off of some awesome art that pipes drew instead. (And how could I resist adding a trope to it?) Hope you have a great b-day, pal! :D
“So, this isn’t exactly how I saw our night off going.”
Kim’s face is only illuminated by the light of their two phones, but it’s easy to see the frustration in the tiny pinch of her forehead and slight dip of the corners of her lips, despite the lightness of her tone.
Ok so I didn’t initially want to get too deep into the hate surrounding bughead as a canon ship, but seeing the number of hate comments on the cast’s tweets (particularly Lili, since she’s the one who has tweeted about the deleted bughead scenes the most) has honestly made it hard to stay out of. I understand not backing a particular ship because you just don’t see the two people connecting, or because you ship one of them with a different person. That’s all fine and good. But to go after and verbally attack the writers and cast of the show because you don’t agree with how the story is being written is unacceptable.
I know a lot of people are mad because bughead as a ship doesn’t fit with the comics, which I can certainly see if you’re comparing the show to a few specific storylines in the comics, but it definitely doesn’t apply to all of them. The Archie comics have been around for a very long time, and in that time there have been a countless number of tellings of the lives of the characters. Granted, most (if not all) of these feature Jughead as either romantically/sexually uninterested in anybody, or as strictly asexual/aromantic, which makes the argument that he shouldn’t be in a relationship a little more valid. However, that’s not to say a more romantically interested Jughead character is completely off the table, as there are endless possibilities for the story of the Archie comics characters.
The idea of endless possibilities brings me to beronica. Obviously there were a huge amount of people who went crazy for the beronica kiss in the first episode. Who wouldn’t? The idea of two strong female characters being in a relationship is more than appealing, and I would honestly like to see their relationship develop more throughout the series (maybe not romantically, but I like the idea of them as a sort of power duo). With that kiss came a lot of expectations as to where their relationship would go, and thus bringing about beronica shippers. But, when bughead was made canon in episode 6, beronica shippers, for lack of a better term, went crazy.
This brings me to my main point. Now, like I said before, it’s perfectly fine to be dissatisfied with a couple in the show because it’s not allowing for your personal ship to happen. But, as I also mentioned, attacking the actors and writers of the show for making it impossible for your ship to exist at the moment is unacceptable. No amount of hate comments or protests is going to get the writers to change anything, so you might as well just let the show run its course, and if your ship ends up working out, that’s great! But don’t spend your time angrily tweeting at the cast and writers just because you’re unhappy with how they chose to write the show.
Lastly, and I’m surprised this isn’t more obvious, it’s a TV show. It is a fictional story comprised of made up characters and a screenwriter-developed plot. Of course it means a lot to all of us who watch it, but there comes a point where you need to separate reality from fiction. The actors on the show are real people. Lili, Cole, Camila, KJ, Madelaine, Casey, Roberto and all of the other wonderful people who make this show what it is are just that: people. So stop treating them like robots who will respond to your every demand, and stop saying so many hurtful things to them. Whether or not you think they do, they see the awful things you say to them on Twitter and everywhere else. And I bet you anything that those things hurt.
TL;DR: y'all gotta just suck it up, stop being assholes and let the show run its course
- so at school daniel went back to his normal self - well- you were actually really confused as to what his normal self was - was it this sweet and adorable guy or this complete douche? - or could it be both..? - you would catch daniel just staring at you blanklessly - but then again, you’d have to be glancing at him to know that - ever since he walked you home he’s been calling you shorty a lot more often - in whICH YOU HATED - but it slowly grew on you throughout the day - he’d walk pass by you and as your shoulders would bump into each other he’d whisper “shorty” in a low teasing tone - the day was normal as usual but you could feel yourself gaining attention since daniel would nonstop highkey tease you - like during art class he’d take your paint brushes and you’d go on a hunt for them - and once you found out it was him who took it, you smeared paint all over his face as he died of laughter - suprisingly, you were looking forward to go to daniel’s house - but at the same time you were scared as fuck cause you didnt wanna lose your viRGINIty you innocent soul - so afterschool, you walked out of the schoolgates and noticed daniel leaning against it as he was kicking around rocks - he still had paint smeared across his face which you found cute - “aye y/n,” he called out - “wash off that paint, you look silly,” you replied as you chuckled - “you’re the one who tainted the art and beauty of my pure, acne free, handsome face,” he spoke as he made facial expressions that made you laugh - “whatever you say buddy,” - “oi daniel,” a voice called behind you - “ready to go?” you looked behind you to see the group of 10 boys daniel would always hang out with - “uhh yeah,” he spoke - “i’ll see ya later y/n,” - “uhh okay,”
- “rEMEMBER AT 7!” he yelled as he waved goodbye, running to his group - sooooo time skip - you were at the front of his house - ringing his doorbell and yet again no answer - so you rang it to ring ding dong again - but this time no answer - “ahh, sorry im late,” a voice spoke behind you - you turned around to see daniel with a bleeding nose, a bruised lip and a cut under his eyes - “daniel whatthefuck happened to you?” you asked as he ignored your question and opened the door - “don’t worry about it,” he spoke bluntly as he made his way in - you followed once again and you could see blood dripping down onto the floor as his arm was also bleeding - you guys entered his room as he instantly headed towards the bathroom - you heard loud banging as suddenly a loud scratch sound was made - “fUCK” daniel yelled - you entered the bathroom cautiously to see him at the side of the bathtub holding his hand due to the cut he got from the first aid kit - you sighed as you walked towards him and sat beside him, opening the first aid kit - getting out the cream, you opened the lid off and placed some onto your fingertips and applied it to his bruised lip and the cut - daniel whined to the burn - “just endure it, okay? squeeze my hand if you need too,” you spoke as you placed your left hand out as your right hand continued to apply the cream - daniel intertwined his fingers with yours as he didn’t squeeze at al but you didnt seem to notice it - after applying the cream, you got out the a tissue and wiped the blood off of his bleeding nose very gently, making sure not to hurt it - you threw out the tissue and got out the bandages and applied it to his cut under his eye
- “how’d this happen?” you asked softly - “well- we were gonna go out to the arcade but then these group of gangsters began picking a fight and i took the first hit for guanlin,” he spoke softly as his voice cracked in between - “please becareful. i mean, i don’t support fighting but if you are going to get into a fight, make sure it’s one you can win. but still, violence is bad man…” you spoke even more softly as you finished applying the bandage - “also, you’re arm is bleeding,” you implied as you could see the blood through his white t-shirt - daniel lifted up the sleve of the shirt to reveal a bruise with blood gushing out - “ouch,” you commented as you got out a wet tissue and began dabbing gently onto the blood. this time daniel whinced but squeezed your hand a bit as he clenched his eyes extremly tightly. - after doing so, you got out the cream once again and applied it, then applied the bandage around his arm. - “there! all done! unless you have more scars..” you spoke as you looked at daniel, noticing how lost he was looking into your eyes. he blinked softly as he looked down onto the floor. you noticed how he was still holding your hand, but he began to squeeze it a bit more tighter. - “does it hurt that much?” you asked out of concern - “no, i just don’t want to let go of your hand,” he replied as a smile appeared across his face - he leaned his head into onto your head as you both slowly began to fall asleep naturally - you soon woke up to be in a bed your not familuar with - “wtf do i still have my virignity?” - “yup,” - you saw daniel at the table finishing the presentation part of the project - “hhh fiNISHED!” he yelled as he spotted you awake - “someone’s awake,” he said with a small gummy grin across his face - “how long was i asleep?” - “an hour or so?” he replied. you got out of bed and skimmed over the oral part of the presentation as you approved of it - “seems pretty good,” you spoke - “it’s getting late, you should head home,” daniel said sadly - you chuckled as you nodded and agreed - once again, he walked you home as he non-stopped teased you - but this time, you took longer glances at him - and it sorta hurt everytime you saw his brusies - fAST FORWARD TO THE NEXT DAY - “wAHHH HOLY SHIT HOW ARE YOUR BRUISES HEALING THAT QUICKLY?????” daehwi ask as he gawks his eyes at daniel - you all were in art class as the teacher had to leave the room for a washroom break - daniel glanced at you with a smile as the group began to tease and shove him around playfully - “i want my bruises to be healed that quickly,” jisung said as he pouted. the group all had either major or minor bruises. guanlin had a scar on his neck as woojin had a black eye, it was all a mess and everyone pitied them. - “yO Y/N” you heard a voice call out - you turned away from your canvas - “can you help us with our bruises? i mean the nurse went on vacation so…” jaehwan said as you nodded blanklessly - they all [excluding daniel] were happy to your replyment - so skipping to lunch you met them at the nurse’s room as you had the first aid kit out - jisung dASHED TOWARDS THE BED FIRST and sat down cutely as he pointed to the bruised arm he had - none stop helping, cream, tissue, bandage, and some rubbing alcohol here and there and the little ones screamed of the burn due to the pain - you noticed how daniel had a blunt expression on his face as all he did was cross his arms and lean against the wall - after you were done with the 9820329 of them, the 10 of them thanked you and ran off as daniel stayed back - “why so grumpy?” you questioned as you backed away the first aid kid that was almost empty at this point - “nothing,” he coldly replied - “oh really?” - “mmmmhm,” - “is someone jealous their not the only one who got special treatment????” - “n O,” - “admit it daniel you’re jealous,” you teased as you took a step closer - “am not,” he snapped back as he took a step closer - “sure you’re not,” you teased
pairing: park jimin x oc genre/rating: smut, mature themes, language words: 11.3k summary: you’re working at a camp (kinda like camp rock) sexually frustrated and very single, when the camp suddenly decides to make more money by opening their doors for older “kids”. you come across park jimin, who makes it more than clear that he would like to get to know you better in more than one way
you are in queen’s court. you were supposed to be in queen’s lane - or was it queen’s road? you see a sign pointing you towards queen’s street, and you realise you no longer know where you are or where you should be. you fall to your knees, hopelessly lost in this queen’s maze.
“private road”, says the traffic sign. “no entrance.” looking down the road, you see it’s fully signalled, with lights, signs and markings on the asphalt. however, it seems to lead to nowhere and you never see anyone using it. you wonder about the mysteries of the private road.
walking past a row of houses, you see how neatly the hedges have been cut into walls. a bit too neatly, in fact; all of them blend together and become nearly featureless green rectangles. you feel like you’re in a computer simulation with low-poly graphics, and for a second you doubt the reality of everything around you.
you walk past a church. it is old and grandiose, truly a historical relic. a couple of blocks later, you walk past a church. it is old and grandiose. truly a historical relic. you turn to another street and walk past a church. it is old and grandiose, truly a historical relic.
anonymous said: if you’re still doing teen wolf, can you do #55 with stiles? love your stuff, keep up the amazing work!
prompt: 55- “don’t you dare lay a finger on her”
chapter song: rollin / khalid
warnings: slight swearing, little smut? drunkness.
parties were a must do in beacon hills, it was a friday night and what better to do then to spend the night drinking cheap booze and dancing with your best friends?
i was trapped in lydia’s room with allison drinking cheap wine as we all crowd around her mirror applying makeup and trying on several different outfits.
the two girls both had boys to impress, not that they really needed the excuse to get dressed up. allison was with isaac now and lydia with aiden leaving me single, as always.
not that i didn’t mind, beacon hills was overflowing with eye candy and i liked to browse.
i twirl in the mirror sighing as i change once more throwing the clothes in a pile on the floor.
“what does one where to a glow rave?” i huff trying on yet another shirt.
allison looks up mascara wand in hand, “im wearing a high waisted skirt and a bralette- wear white it works better”
“oh and leave plenty of skin exposed- yano so your boys can paint all over your body” lydia chirps winking at me.
“leave me alone, just because i don’t have a boy” i moan rolling my eyes as i slip on a high waisted pair of jean shorts that seemed to not leave much to the imagination.
“yes wear those” lydia confirms smacking my butt lightly causing us all to laugh.
“anyway we all know everyone’s after you- what about little liam?” allison teases standing from her spot in front of the mirror.
“baby scott? the beta? no thanks he’s practically a child” i tut shaking my head as i throw a loose fitting shirt over my bralette.
“your not wearing that shirt to the party right?- and what about stiles” lydia offers a slight smirk twitching onto her lips.
i blush slightly tucking a loose piece of hair behind my ear “um no im not- ill take it off once im inside” i try and avoid the question
“and stiles?” allison presses running the wand over her eyelashes pausing to glance at my already rosy cheeks.
“i-um- there nothing going on between stiles and i” i finish my voice shaking as i bend over to lace up my chucks
“oh c’mon you both have been fawning over each other since second grade” lydia tuts ruffling with her hair before reaching for her glass.
“i have not” i defend glancing at my appearance in the mirror, i didn’t look half bad.
i smile slyly to myself, maybe lydia was right, maybe the tall dangus of a boy had the same insane feelings you’ve had for him since you first meet him in the sandbox.
lydias phone beeps as we pull ourselves together to leave downing whatever left in our glasses, “he’s out front lets go”.
we all follow lydia down the steps and out front to meet aide and ethan in they car, all toothy werewolf grins.
it didn’t take long for us to reach derek’s loft, you wondered how danny and your best friends had managed to convince the rather intimidating and broody hale man to give up his man cave to a bunch of underaged teens.
never the less you were excited that it ant another one of lydia’s parties, you were over throwing up in her toilet bowl as miss martin scowls at me.
we pull into the parking lot and you can hear the soft rumble of the bass, the lights already pulsing through the large window pane, “this better be good” i mumble as i follow my friends up.
after pulling the door open we’re greeted by the smell of booze and sweaty bodies as everyone seems to be painted up, the music blaring. we push through the crowd until we find scott.
allison tugs on my arm and pulls me toward her, noticing lydia seemed to have ducked off already.
“I’m going to find issaac will you be okay?” she shouts but i can’t seem to hear her “WHAT?” i yell back
she goes to respond but were push apart from the crowd and I’m sent hurling toward the floor colliding with a body on my way down.
“fuck fuck fuck” i cuss rolling myself off the body and clasping my head.
“oh my god I’m sorry” the hand lifts me up the light catching on his face to reveal stiles.
i let out a laugh shaking my head back and forth
“well what do we have here, clutz” i tease watching the boy stand upright reaching for my hand.
“coming from the queen of clutzville” grabbing his hand he pulls me upright a goofy smile plastered on his face.
he watches as i glance around looking for my girls but coming up empty.
he senses my nervousness
“everything okay? where’s the rest of the musketeers?”
i shrug running a shaky hand through my hair, looking up to the boy as he shoves his hands into his pockets, it was his tell.
he was nervous too
we stand in front of each other for awhile, in silence as the bass thumps around us the sweaty boxing us in closer to each other.
we both let out a giggle, my hands shielding his eyes from my blushed cheeks as we both try and erupt into conversation at the same time.
“you first” i smile as we both settle from our laughter.
“i- i think you look really beautiful- and there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you-”
i step closer trying to hear him over the loud speakers
“what’d you say?” i yell
“i said there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you” he yells back speaking directly into my ear
i smile, tucking my hair behind my ear ready to hear his response.
“i-” he was cut off by scotts booming voice
“WASUP MY NERDS”
i roll my eyes laughing as the boy throws his arms around the both of us, stiles shrugging away as scott’s ruined wherever moment we had.
“god mccall you stink of tequila” i complain trying to hold the alpha upright without struggling.
i spot the other girls and i quickly excuse myself skipping over to the girls, whom are already covered in paint.
“thanks for flaking on me!”
“why do you still have your shirt on!!! and where’s your paint!” allison yells at me whining.
i roll my eyes and pull my shirt off over my head
aiden & isaac starting whistling giving me the worst case of blush.
“shudupppp!” i complain covering my face with my hands, everyone giggling as the alcohol starts to make it’s way into our blood streams.
“here you need a drink” lydia hands me a red solo cup and i grimace as i smell the vodka, but none the less i knock it back. everyone cheering.
i feel a warm hand on my shoulder and i turn as rest of the pack boys walk over with malia & kira.
the newest werewolf at the front a smirk on his face as his eyes rake their way over my exposed body, his hand still on my shoulder.
lydia nudges my shoulder, pushes me toward the beta.
“need something beta?” i sass clicking my tongue.
scott hits his shoulder playfully everyone seemingly drunk already, bunch of lightweights.
“as i matter of fact i do” he retorts, his words starting to muddle as he steps closer moving his hand down to my waist.
“not on the menu for you dunbar”
mason holds back a chuckle as he watches his bestfriend get rejected again from the girl his been fawning over since he transferred at beacon hills.
liam rolls his eyes slightly swaying almost falling only to be caught by mason.
“maybe you should stick to the juice boxes”
i smile allison giving me a playful ass smack as encouragement.
looking past the laughing group i watch as stiles walks toward the exit to the loft, without thinking twice i grab scotts beer and rush toward stiles.
i grab his hand a tug him toward me preventing him from leaving.
“where’d you think your going stilinski!”
he licks his lips trying to find an excuse as he mouth opens and closes, no words falling out. only the pure expression of him checking me out.
i tug him toward the painting station knowing he had no real excuse to leave.
i was going to make him stay no matter what. i had a little liquid confidence now so i needed to know what he was going to say before we were interrupted.
fucking scott mccall .
we stop in front of the paint and one of the boys smiles at me as they hand over the paint walking away from the two of us.
i turn forward finding stiles still looks frustrated.
“you really don’t see how they look at you do you?” he admits deflated.
i sigh but he continues
“liam’s totally into you and not to mention everyone else that has a brain i-”
“do you want to talk about liam and boys that want to get into my pants or do you want to paint my body? tick tick stilinski”
he nods, his adam’s apple bopping as he steps toward the paint as he reaches for a brush.
i smack his hand grabbing onto his wrist as i dip his hand into the paint, removing it quickly and in one swift motion placing his wet hand on my bare ass.
i can feel his hot breath on my neck as he stammers to for a sentence.
“don’t use a brush” i whisper dipping my finger in paint.
he removes his hand quickly and i turn so he can see his hand work before turning to face him again.
“are you going to take your shirt off so we’re even?” i bargain as he stares blankly down at my chest.
he fumbles with the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head as i start attacking his chest with paint, as he does the same with me.
i or the final touches on the swirls on stiles chest and put a little on my lips pressing them to his check leaving a neon organs lip stain.
“what did you want to tell me?” i ask eagerly, stepping closer to him
im pulled away from stiles by lydia and allison and dragged toward and open space to start dancing.
i smile as khalid fills the speakers, spinning around i let my body move to the beat singing along with the tune as the girls and i dance on each other.
it didn’t take too long for aiden and isaac to find us, making their way over to their respective girlfriends as they start dancing along with us.
i feel someone’s gaze on me and i turn quickly, catching a incredibly gorgeous boy checking me out.
i continue to dance as he edges closer spinning me around so i had room to grind into his hips.
harmless dancing, that’s what i was.
i pushed back against him letting my hips move against his, his body’s starting to roam all over my body.
“theo!” i snap out of my daze when stiles rushes over peeling me off him “don’t you dare lay a finger on her
“c'mon stilinski don’t be jealous now” he chuckles reaching his hand out toward me.
“she’d never go for a guy like you” he teases
i turn to the boy in disgust as stiles tries to make a run for it, i grab his arm and pull him into the body. sending us both off balance.
“what are you doing?” he speaks into my ear as i turn my back pressed against his chest.
“showing theo who’s the real alpha male” i begin to dance into stiles the boy seemingly stiff not knowing how to react.
“just relax and move to the beat” i mutter moving my hair to one side as his hot breathe fans my neck as we move in sync.
i turn and wrap my arms around his neck pressing my lips against his, he kisses back instantly slipping his tongue in before his hands slip down under my thighs lifting me up.
“let’s get out of here” you mumble against his lips as he nods backing away from the groups and toward the balcony. still atched to his waist.
i squeal playfully as the cold wind hits my exposed skin, stiles resting my ass down on the cold balcony edge.
“i swear to god stilinski you better not let me fall”
i cling to him as we both chuckle coming down from our high.
“so what was it that you wanted to tell me?” i ask curiosity taking over me.
he was cut off when the door swings open revealing a drunk scott in the arms of kira. she hauls him toward the edge as he throws chunks over the balcony.
“what a mood killer” stiles mumbles gently lifting me from the edge so im safely on the ground so he can tend to his best friend.
i wrap my arms around my body trying to keep myself warm, regretting on ditching my jacket at lydia’s place.
scott continues to throw up, stiles and kira kneeling next to him for support. but the two looked as pale as anything and i knew they couldn’t stomach the scene.
i wonder over to stiles placing my hand on his shoulder.
“go get him some water, ill look after him- and kira find him a towel?”
kira scrambles up and off into the party, stiles reluctantly wanting to leave
“i can stay with him-”
i place my hand on his head
“stiles i know you hate vomit- go inside get some water we’ll be okay”
he nods disappearing through the door as i haul scott up letting him lean against the glass plane.
“throwing up in front of your date? real smooth scotty” i tease rubbing the boys back as the vomit starts to subside.
we move toward the couch as he falls limp into the soft cushions, the same time as the music inside suddenly stopped the yelling of an anger derek hale echoing through the loft.
guess he wasn’t okay with the party after all
the door busts open and stiles struggles through the opening a pale look on his face.
i laugh and him and take the water from his hand giving it to scott before taking stiles hand and leading him over toward the edge of the balcony.
“oh derek just got-”
“no stiles, what have you been trying to tell me all night” i mutter hope in my tone.
“oh that um i um- that thing i wanted to tell you-” he stutters nervously
“yes” i giggle begging him to continue
“well uh- wow- i just- ever since i met you i um-”
scott let’s out a long groan “stiles-”
i turn to face the boy
“Scott McCall i swear to god if you interrupt him one more time i swear to god i will make you into a rug!”
i turn and face stiles
“where were we?”
he grabs my cheeks and presses his soft lips to mine, slow & passionate.
“i think im in love with you” he exhales resting his forehead against my own.
“i think im in love with you too stilinski”
our moment was short lived with the sound of projectile vomit behind us.