#i literally have to make a full portfolio for this school so i can move to new york and yet the tlou brainrot is holding me back!

[souleaterellie]

mfw i have so much to work on and edit and stream and yet all i can fathom doing is laying in bed or playing tlou! its a sickness at this point

[lacunasbalustrade]

my parents' situation has escalated in the time I haven't been here properly, I'll summarize:

I had to call the police because my mother, a grown woman of 47, thirty years older than me, and my father, a grown man of 50, decided to attack my younger brother for sassing them.

He's got a tone issue. He's always had a tone issue. But apart from that, he's obedient, much more than a normal child, good in his studies despite a slight disability that makes it hard for him to read, and takes care of our younger siblings.

this grown couple decided they needed to beat him to teach him a lesson. he hid in the bathroom. I had to hold my mother back and literally block my father's way. when I first tried to call the police, he took my phone and locked it in a room.

It's happened in the past. Same thing, but with my older brother, who is decidedly more troublesome, but also definitely not delinquent status.

it's been a few days since then. the police arriving stopped them from contemplating more violence - also, I managed to make them give allowance and transport to school by threatening to file charges. but some changes have been made. all of us older kids have to cook our own meals, sleep at 9.30 pm, and adhere to random rules they've decided to put into place without prior notification. furthermore, my mother has been throwing away the gifts we gave her in the past.

it's not the rules I hate adhering to - in fact, it's a bit of relief since I no longer have to depend on their constantly fluctuating schedule. It's the awful reason behind them - our parents wanting to alienate us from them and make everything a business transaction. it's the frostiness and polite greetings and designated responsibilities purposely planned to make us bear the weight of their lack of affection.

it's the way my mother refuses to talk about anything that's happened. she says she can't manage it emotionally. so i can hold back my parents from attacking my siblings and research laws and scholarships to get out of this place and she can't bring herself to have a mature, reasonable conversation. any disagreement is seen as disrespect, arguing with her.

we have five kids in this family. the older kids take care of two of the youngers. we don't go out after school, don't take any extracurriculars other than the school mandated ones, don't take tuition because we know family expenses are tight, don't even have friends we spend time with on a daily basis.

my mother's parents kicked her out of the house once she got married and played favourites, preferring her brothers to her. my father's mother was promiscuous during her marriage, is a Buddhist who forces her view of religion on others - think making everyone eat vegetables - and his father was abusive.

It's not that I don't know they've gone through pain. But pain isn't an excuse for them to pass on their life trauma. My mother bought a couple of clocks after the argument. They make the same sound as the clocks her parents have at their house. Ding-dong. Think creepy school bell.

I'm researching full-ride scholarships overseas. If worst comes to worst I'll take a government bond scholarship. I'm also thinking about setting up my own debit card since I'm over 16, and starting to work part time - which I've wanted to do, but which they've never let me.

I'm not injured by this, per se, because I still love them, even though they definitely don't love me. But my self worth does not hinge on whether they love me or not, and I want to, moving forward, find a source of income and work harder at my studies and extracurricular activities, plus creative pursuits, so I have a better portfolio that I can use to get myself into a scholarship.

They didn't actually have enough money to pay in full for my university/college anyway. Instead of relying on them, I'd really like to broaden my horizons in a foreign country, take subjects I'm interested in, and see how far I can go without them to hold me down and shut me up.

[ihavetoomanythoughts3]

literally every single one of your WIP titles brought me so much joy and I want to know everything...

but we'll start easy with just one 😆

-Why do I write

Do tell!

Ahhhhh that one 😭😭😭

So I’m in this program for Cretaive Eroting. To get to audition, you had to bring a portfolio of 4 works. I brought (among other things) an except of a story I was working on.

This is what I submitted:

—————————————————————————

“When I was little, I was always told not to go into the woods behind the house. I was told all sorts of stories to keep me from going in. There were bears, there was a bloody tent. All sorts of stories. It was a good strategy. I’m older now, and I still don’t like those woods.

On that particular day, I looked up at the trees looming overhead. ‘We should go in there.’ My friend interrupted my thoughts.

‘In the woods?’ I asked. ‘Are you crazy?’

‘Oh, c’mon Alexa.’ Mary said, her eyes alight with that dangerous curiosity of hers. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to go in.’

Mary had always been more reckless than me. She wanted to do everything, not thinking of the consequences until after. I wish I had more of that. ‘I mean…’

‘Exactly! So why don’t we go in?’

‘We’ll get in trouble, Mary.’

‘So?’ She questioned, ‘Live a little Alexa! We can’t still do everything our parents tell us, can we?’

‘I suppose not…’

Mary grabbed my hand and pulled me to the path of worn-down grass. ‘Has someone been here?’ I asked, ‘It looks like someone’s been here.’

Mary ignored me, dragging me in further. The further we went, the thicker the trees got. I could’ve sworn it got darker, the air heavier, the animals a loud cacophony as if to warn us of coming danger. I shoved down all those feelings. After all, Mary’s never been wrong before.

Mary turned to me and smiled. ‘See Lex? It’s not so scary here, is it?’ At the silence full of my hesitation, she sighed. ‘Look around, Lex, and tell me if this looks scary.’

I cast my gaze around the glade. The sun was shining again, with its light littering atop the babbling brook. The grass was bright, and the animals were quiet, aside from the birds, that were twittering softly. I watched the light hit something in the stream, causing a rainbow of colors to be cast in the river. I smiled softly.

‘Yeah, Mar, you’re right.’ My voice grew softer still, ‘This is beautiful.’

Mary’s smile mirrored my own. ‘This can be our spot, Lex. We’ll have picnics, and we can come out at night, watch the stars, and we can make memories here that’ll last us a lifetime.’

Mary’s energy was always infectious. ‘We’ve always wanted a spot.’ My voice was soft where hers was full of excitement.

Her expression softened, thinking of how we would be going our separate ways for high school. ‘We’ll always have this now, Alexa. Even when we go off to high school. It’ll be ours, and ours only.’

I moved to hug her, but then the forest went quiet. The birds stopped chirping; I swear even the water stopped. There was a rustling in the trees behind Mary. ‘Lex?’ Mary’s eyes searched my face.

I shushed her. ‘I think there’s someone here.’

‘Alexa, it’s okay. No one’s here except us, and even if-’

I knew she heard it too, the rustling. It was louder this time, closer. I could almost make out a shape in the trees. It was moving closer. I felt myself start to freeze up. The shape wasn’t a shape, it was a person, a man. He was just inside of the shadows when I saw the gun he had, heard the safety click off-”

I broke off. “I’m sorry, Officer,” I said to the woman in front of me, my voice thick with unshed tears. “May I have a moment?”

She looked at me sympathetically. “Of course, sweetie. Take your time. Do you need some water?”

I nodded.

As she left, I heard two officers outside whispering, whispering about me. How I ran into the police station. How I was sobbing and covered in blood. She walked back in and handed me a cup of water. I took a drink, more to steady myself than anything else.

“You need a break?” The kind-faced officer asked.

“No ma’am. Where was I?”

—————————————————————————

So I put this into a word document after my submission and then promptly titled it “Why do I write”. I got INTENSE writers block surrounding it both during and after my portfolio was being worked on. (To this day I’ve only worked on it twice more) It will probably sit there until my teacher drags me to the computer to work on it. 😭

[suneiaaa]

2022 recap!

Hey so I want to reflect about 2022 cause it's been one hell of a year. I do this for myself, but perhaps someone else is curious. I also want to bring back writing blog posts. I hope you'll excuse me if that's difficult and ends up being just a wish though, cause nowadays it's very hard to drop the phone and stop watching silly videos. I hate how our attention span goes off the window just like that. Actually let me make that a New Year's resolution: stop with the silly videos, thank you. The only reason I don't feel guilty about it is because I know it's the way social media is designed that manipulates our attention span left and right lol

Anyways,

2022.

In summary, I finished artschool, found my first industry jobs, moved into a new flat with my partner.

That was a lot of changes in a short period of time and I feel like I'm still recovering from/processing it.

_

In January, I was working really hard on the last 8 pages of Crow of Stone for one of my projects. That was the steepest learning curve up to that moment. From having to change the plot 7 or 8 times, to thumbnailing and scribbling, to storyboards, to handling critique and applying it, to being hella stressed out because perfectionism & still being unable to guess correctly how much information 8 pages can hold. Doing Comics Is So Hard, it's so much harder than you think!!!

I also put myself in charge of putting together the InDesign document of the zine Crow of Stone was in and that was really stressful FUCK THAT!!!:) We sold our zine at Comic BCN a couple months later, that was also a nice experience.

--

Then I got a chance to catch my breath but not really because that project ending meant the start of the final project And I Did Not Know What To Do Yet

I focused on adding some more pages to Crow of Stone and make it to the deadline of the International Comic School Contest of Clip Studio 2022 that is very long to write so from now on it'll be 'CSP CONTEST'. That was very important to me! I had always wanted to participate. I couldn't make it during 3rd year (my classmate won though!!) and this year felt like my last chance. So I did that. I had already given up on the idea of making something new with the time I had so CoS would have to do! You can read it here.

We were also Kindly Asked to participate in another scolarship (?) contest and had to create several comic(al) strips as entry. That wasn't too bad even though it didn't go anywhere lol

------

A NY WAYS, there went my time for the final project lol

It must have been April by this point. At first I wanted to create a storybook with my OC Neia but I struggled to give the story a... story.

My brainstorming for a new idea started. And it was a bit desperate. What did I want to draw? Should it be a comic? What did I like to read? Should I make something according to my inspirations? Quick, what are my favorite genres? Tropes? And most importantly, what do I want to tell? Etc. 

Lots of little drawings ensued.

And I finally came up with something that I felt was 'me' enough, and cool enough, and worth exploring. Llamadas Perdidas (missed calls, or lost calls.). The plot is STILL very hard to explain so I will translate it literally below and make of that what you will...

----

May. So my final project was pitching this whole thing. Thus creating a portfolio with the premise, plot, synopsys and sample pages. Just like with CoS, storyboarding was hard, thinking was hard. Time was almost up when I decided to pour all my energy into 6 pages. I was even finishing up the cover just a few hours before my deadline. 

That moment was fun, actually. I showed my work to my professor full of self doubt and wondering if it would be enough. He looks at me like girl this is fantastic sdhsjdhsjdh 

I had barely slept that day. On the way to school I found some broken glasses in a puddle and wondered, who could have lost their glasses like that? Flash forward and I'm home and I had taken a quick nap. And I can't find my newest, goodest pair of glasses. Before paranoia got the best of me I went outside and looked for them on the street (yeah I couldn't believe it either). Halfway to my school I gave up and went back home... And I found them before that: someone had left my glasses, intact, on a windowsill. On my fucking street. I had dropped my fucking glasses on my way home. Hah. I'll admit I cried a little bit.

---

June. As an extraordinary school thing, we were visiting a publisher's installations that day. When we met up with my teacher, for some reason, he said to me something like 'Thank GOD you're here. If you hadn't come I would have killed you. Are you nervous?'

And I said 'No?'

And he replied 'You better be'

Which puzzled me for a bit, but haha... During our meeting with the publishers they actually said 'Later we want to talk to X and Sun' and OH MY GOD was I fucking shocked (laughs)

Yes, they told me they Wanted To Publish Llamadas Perdidas. They saw my pitch and thought it was very cool. So I'll let you imagine the look on my face. Finishing school and already landed my first gig and as an author, no less. Man.

I spent several days being in a weird high and processing and I'll admit I haven't processed it yet. And thus I finished 4 years of art school.

---

I've written so much so from now on it'll be an actual summary.

Dealing with my first contract, panicking a little bit... On July I also received this good news: Crow of Stone had been awarded a runner-up prize in the Manga category of the CSP contest!

This was really great!! I fucking loved reading the critique and checking the other entries and I felt very proud...!

Also!!! They contacted me from ANOTHER publisher to work on another comic project. Since comics aren't well paid I took the job too :^) Freelancing in Spain is also hella expensive like you wouldn't believe soo... No, but it's also a good project and I'm glad I'm working on it as well! Can't talk about it yet.

MEANWHILE my partner and I were LOOKING FOR A PLACE TO MOVE IN TOGETHER!! Barcelona is so fucking expensive and it was straight out impossible to find anything decent. Even in the suburbs. So it sucked for a while... but eventually we decided to live in the small town we live in now. And we could find something pretty quickly :') And we moved in in August!!! WAHOO big lifegoal achieved :')

---

Fall. I've become a freelancer (oh god finances are such a headache...) and have been working on my 2 comic projects mostly. It took a while to adapt to like working everyday but I'm proud at how hard I've been working. Llamadas Perdidas is definitely the most difficult because I want to get it right/so many demons to fight and so much to learn. I'm also happy about the commissions I've been taking and love the style I developed. In December my art school and Clip Studio invited me to have a small panel at Manga BCN where I talked about Crow of Stone. I was honored & happy, especially since I met with my professor (the same I mentioned before) and he was very happy to see me and encouraged me a lot!

----------

That's about the major events that happened. My reflections? This year has been the steepest learning curve by far and also my most successful. I hope I can grow as an author and artist and keep flourishing. Also I literally just want to pay my bills with my work lol so there's my hopes and dreams. I haven't had much time to draw for myself, planning and drawing comics is super time consuming. But I didn't want to force myself too much and properly adapt to my new life (deadlines deadlines...deadliens...dead aliens...)

Videogame wise? I played Earthbound. It was the greatest thing I'd played in the longest time. Definitely a highlight. Triangle Strategy was cool too, but I hate Roland with all my heart. Xenoblade 3 was a good game but a disappointment story-wise. I had genuine fun being hyped for it, and playing too, though. So as we say in Spanish 'you can't take away the time in which I've been dancing'. Endwalker was fine though I like Shadowbringers a bit more x) OST wise this year was super fantastic. There were more games but I forgor. Oh yeah, Paper Mario was being great but it broke on me :( Also I became addicted to Eve and blame myself for not discovering him before. It's my fucking jam I admire him a lot.

To wrap up.

Wish me luck, I'll be working on comics all year, head full, want to maybe try streaming with the mic on,aaaaahhh thank you all for supporting me ESPECIALLY those who have been there for YEARS those who have commissioned me and just. Thank you! Happy New Year 2023, manifesting good mental health for all of us.

[shoichee]

hello! may i ask some tips about the instragram acccunts the GoM + kagami could have? like of sort of post, amount of followers, stuff like that THANK U and have a great day !!

THIS IS ACTUALLY HILARIOUS SINCE I BREATHE OFF OF INSTAGRAM LFMAO

[Headcanons]

Kuroko Tetsuya

HELP WHAT IF HE HAS NO PRESENCE ON SOCIAL MEDIA TOO—

professional lurker

never comments on anything unless it’s to congratulate under a friend’s post or something like that

probably started using it because Ogiwara moved from letters and texts to just... instagram (technology advancements, jazz hands)

his account is on private, and he only lets people he knows follow him

all of his posts are pictures to commemorate something or just really wholesome group pictures

DEFINITELY has that picture of the GoMs at his birthday OVA

DEFINITELY also posted the big birthday picture taken at the end of the party

and also had typed very sappy BIG paragraph captions for both of these posts, talking about the journey and him being grateful… y’know, him being him

HIS ENTIRE COMMENT SECTIONS ARE JUST EVERYONE SOBBING AND KEYBOARD SPAMMING??? ONLY LIKE MIDORIMA AND AKASHI POST COHERENT RESPONSES UNDERNEATH

@kiseryouta: kuROKOCCHIIIII!!NEJWIEISK

@momoiowo: TETSUU (ʃƪ˘･ᴗ･˘) YOURE SO SWEET REEEE

@a_daikiii: i stg quit being so corny no one died yet🙄 and @momoiowo relax smh

@shin_chan77: I suppose I can express some form of gratitude for being in my life despite you being a blood type A. (insert a giant paragraph after this)

@4k4shi: This was very touching to read, Kuroko. I’m very glad that our… (insert him going down memory lane)

Murasakibara has no comment LMAO

his entire Seirin team are his hype men under his posts

his profile picture is literally the gray default blank head because he didn’t even set up a profile picture for himself

he has like 20 followers max or something?

8 posts? like, he only posts on special occasions or big events

his occasional stories are always comprised of Nigou and blurry Kagami pictures/videos running away from Nigou UH OH (courtesy of @dust-of-fandoms)

@tetsuya11 for his user handle

@dust-of-fandoms JUST MADE AN INSTAGRAM FOR HIM HERE!!

Kise Ryota

uses his instagram account as a portfolio for his modeling career

majority of his posts are actually pictures he managed to snag from his frequent model shoots

it looks SO professional… but then you look at his IGTVs and his reel videos

his reels are either short clips of mini vlog series he does whenever he visits the GoMs or when he’s recording his Kaijō teammates doing tricks and dunks

his IGTVs are either skincare tutorials, fashion advice… or just… unexplainable, out-of-context shitposts of Kise running away from what fans assumed “a green-haired man” or some “captain”

follower account?? 124k

who wouldn’t resist a hot model?

DEFINITELY HAS A TIKTOK I CAN FEEL IT

@kiseryouta with an official verification next to it

people either love him or hate him

posts a casual selfie from time to time, and people praise him for “being real” LMAODOA AND HE’S JUST STARING AT HIS PHONE LIKE “??? IMIG BUT I JUST FELT CUTE TODAY”

his captions feel fake LMAO like: “Wow! today’s so pretty today!” as he puts a selfie post OR “What’s your favorite game?✨” under a professionally-shot model picture that does not correlate with the caption???

has posted shitposts on his stories and his fans are utterly confused… only the GoMs get it LMAO

Midorima Shintarou

ONLY reason why he has social media is because Takao convinced him that he could let everyone know the daily lucky items for each signs for every post he makes

so for the first 2 months of having instagram he just casually posts a “daily horoscope” report(?) for the day

his content attracted in all the astrology fans and people who are devoted to tarots

and he’s CONFUSED.

… Takao may or may not have played a hand in messing with the algorithms to expose his account to bigger audiences

once Midorima finds out he’s MAD LMAO *insert Takao pain noises*

either goes down two paths: just casually continuing to post the daily Oha Asa predictions without interacting with anyone OR deleting his account and making a new PRIVATE one just for communication/lurking purposes

so he can honestly have 10k followers if he chooses to be a horoscope account or like 3 followers on his private, take it or leave it

maybe he has two accounts if he feels that having instagram has its merits

definitely has a shit ton of random stuff/posts in his saved collections

boomer energy, like… what’s a “reels” feature?? people talk to their phone camera and record that?? he’s squinting really hard and scratching his head

either has 356 horoscope posts on his “main” or like 19 posts on his private

has a rubber duck as a profile picture for BOTH ACCOUNTS HELP HIM

@oha_asa_ for his horoscope account or @shin_chan77 as his personal because he doesn’t know how to change his username (thanks, Takao LMAO)

Aomine Daiki

he doesn’t give a shit about instagram LOL

it’s MOMOI who handles his account because he doesn’t wanna bother with it LMAOO

she would tease him and try to “encourage” him to stop lazing around by taking pictures of him whenever he’s snoozing and posting it

but he’s so damn good-looking that his sleeping pictures got some traction with new fans

Aomine is still sleeping

his account also has pictures of him eating at Maji burger or at a café, and of course Momoi is the one snapping these photos of him

he started caring about it a little more once Momoi told him that he can post videos of himself doing trickshots and one-on-ones to potentially find worthy rivals over the internet and meet up

so now his account (videos, reels, IGTVs) are all riddled with basketball/small parkour footage shot by yours truly, Momoi

so his fanbase is split between thirsty people and people who genuinely admire him for his skills… but I mean there’s also people in both categories, anywho

he’d totally follow his favorite Japanese idols on IG if they had one

also would follow any NBA-related accounts/players he admires

has like 2.7k followers (but growing really fast) with like 176 posts of videos and random pictures of him

his profile picture is literally a picture of him sleeping by Momoi

@a_daikiii

Momoi Satsuki

LOTS OF REALLY cute, playful selfies, and a lot of them are used with cute filters from the Snow app

sometimes would post herself doing a really cute Tiktok dance while in her school uniform

she doesn’t post too much; she’s actually more into posting IG stories and making highlights out of them and then making highlight covers have a coordinating theme together

very aesthetic theme on her feed overall hehe

definitely uses her account to comment on other GoMs posts, often commenting something snarky on Aomine’s and Kise’s

actually has 1-2 IGTVs on the Vorpal Sword’s big game against the Jabberwocks

doesn’t have much of full-body shots/outfit pictures other than mirror selfies because Aomine refuses to take good pictures of her

only when she sees Kise or Kuroko is when she can ask either to be a photographer

she’s definitely gotten a few small collab offers from small businesses, but she usually ignores them because it’s not exactly her thing

her profile picture is just a selfie with a sketch-line cat ear filter

uses a bunch of emoticons on her bio, captions, comments, everything

⌒(ㅇㅅㅇ❀)⌒ or ☆⌒(＞。≪) or .₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇. you get the picture

967 followers… that looks way too specific, but it’s somewhere around there; a lot of them came from Aomine’s account after they saw who’s been taking his pictures, and they wanna learn more about her??

around 40 posts?

@momoiowo

Murasakibara Atsushi

Himuro showed him how to use the app, but Murasakibara doesn’t find ANY USE FOR THIS LMAOO

he’d probably only get on it to look at food on the explore page and drool about the cuisines

keeps tabs on local places/restaurants/shops on instagram; those are probably the only accounts he’d follow tbh

it’s probably like ONE post and it’s an old picture of a dango on a plate he ate like 2 years ago

I have this image in my head that he has a really cute bento art as his profile picture?? can you imagine a Rilakkuma-shaped rice as his PROFILE PICTURE?

his bio is definitely: “hungry”

and that’s it

27 followers, and it’s literally just his Yōsen teammates, the GoMs and probably some other classmates of his

his captions are literally empty or 1-2 words

@oomaib0

Akashi Seijuro

only uses instagram because it’ll be beneficial for his company and to expand social networks, plus getting those sweet business deals and engagement

he doesn’t mind seeing really wholesome videos on the explore page though

when he wants to relax, a cat video melts his stress away

laughs to himself while he reads all the shenanigans underneath the GoMs’ posts

DEFINITELY loses a few brain cells seeing trolls and idiots on the internet… especially on controversial or political ones LMAO

he at first had to REFRAIN himself and take deep breaths before he just scrolls on, but he eventually got used to them and can now easily ignore them as easy as he breathes air

he actually enjoys shitposts and meme videos?? like he may not completely understand the meme trends sometimes, but he’ll still find it amusing enough for a chuckle

he ends up being the one who uses instagram the most? like Kise posts a shit ton, yeah, but Kise doesn’t really sit down and just scroll endlessly; Kise releases out content, while Akashi consumes the content

he reasons with himself that it’s to study his current demographics for the company, and while that may be true, Akashi just enjoys social media, plain and simple LOL

he does get to study the behaviors of all the generations using the platform, young folks and old folks alike, and it does get him excited in using his analytical skills to try to figure out people BEHIND a screen rather than those in front of him

it makes a really good challenge for him when he wants a good mental exercise

he has a post or two about his horses, his manor, and a video or two on him playing his violin?? but most are business-related, them being advertisements or business contracts/offers… things like that

his highlights are all about Q&As regarding the company, his background, his skillsets, etc. like an actual resumé

actually links current world issue cards/petitions on top of his company website; he’s quite an advocate

he actually doesn’t post about basketball because that’s something very close to his heart since it reminds him of his late mother… having that mixed in with his company-related posts feels wrong to him

27k followers, most of them are business-related accounts AND some are some followers his father bought for him without Akashi’s input to inflate engagement, etc.

@4k4shi… oh he thinks he’s SO CLEVER FOR MAKING THIS USERNAME LOL with the 4 being his jersey number and the 4s looking like As… AKASHI PLEASE—

his profile pic is like a professionally taken picture, nothing less for our king

his grammar and syntax are impeccable on social media; after all, he’s still being judged for how he carries himself even on the media

Kagami Taiga

mukbang guy… DEFINITELY

hot guy eating nine plates of steaks

IGTVs are filled with mukbang videos because Kuroko said he could make a living off of his appetite

HE COULD MAKE MONEY OFF OF JUST EATING? SIGN HIM UP.

on his posts, he posts dishes he makes for the day/is proud of and talks about the dish and ingredients briefly in the caption

that, or he has pictures of his new basketball shoes LMAO

or all of his basketball merch

HE’S DEFINITELY POSTED PICTURES OF LANDMARKS AND OTHER ICONIC PLACES HE’S TRAVELED TO (*cough* in America)

has a generic Jordan brand logo against a dark background as a profile picture

doesn’t have his face anywhere unless it’s in a mukbang video

279 followers or something

why do I have a feeling that he’ll accidentally blow up when Alex takes his phone to do a quick selfie on it?—

@taiga10

[jonthethinker]

I would read your rant about neoliberalism leading into technofeudalism cuz you're right and you should say it!!!

Thank you for indulging me. :)

What’s amazing about capitalism it that it can get people to volunteer to do things that under feudalism had to be essentially forced at the end of a lash. Take mining for instance. It’s always been this incredibly dangerous job, so dangerous that in feudal societies, lords had to often force people to do it, often resorting to depending on prison labor in order to get it done.

But capitalism gets people to not only go into the mines willingly, but fight hard against their closure, fight against society as a whole moving away from the use of whatever resource they’re digging for. It gets people invested in the desolation of their lands, their own bodies.

Neoliberalism is impossibly good at this very thing. At selling people a world in which they have greatly reduced control and security, draining them of every last ounce of productivity and value they can produce, all while convincing people that the removal of the guardrails of the system will actually not just make things safer, but will get them where they want to go even faster.

It privatizes public goods and proselytizes about how that, actually, in private hands, things will end up even better for the public. It cuts down on staff and demands even more of its workers, but convinces those workers that remain that all their laid-off fellows lost their jobs not because of the greed of the employers, but because they simply didn’t work hard enough. It redefines its workers as independent contractors, bold independent entrepreneurs, who can succeed off the sweat of their brow and whatever ingenuity they can muster.

In reality, they’re still just workers, now further alienated from their fellow workers, and thus even more leveraged against by their employers, with an even weaker negotiating position for pay and benefits. Not only that, but despite working these gigs on a full time basis, often going beyond forty hours a week, are denied the legal rights guaranteed to them by full time employment, so no employer provided healthcare or life insurance, no overtime pay, and little legal recourse for workplace abuses. It takes the idea of the wage slave, and turns it up to eleven.

And then on top of all of this, it denies the right of ownership of anything to most people. You don’t own your house, the bank does. You don’t own your car, the bank does. You don’t own your own education, the bank does. Anything and everything you need to live an even remotely fulfilling life is leveraged against you with a massive sea of debt. You can totally have access to a comfortable life, provided you are willing to take on the debt to do so; and if you have to take a job you hate, that drains the very life out of you and alienates you from any meaningful connection with other people, then that’s just the price you have to pay. It’s an investment in your future after all; don’t you think that ought to require a little hard work? Oh, and be sure not to get sick, or you’re fucked.

Meanwhile the richest most powerful people in the world don’t know a damn thing about hard work. They’re literally some of the laziest, luckiest people on Earth. But they get to casually upend and destroy the lives of countless people while they play action-figures with literal human beings; From Bezos and Musk destroying any nascent attempt at unionization in their companies and use public dollars to play astronaut, or Bill Gates ruining the American educational system on a lark and playing God-King in sub-Saharan Africa.

And to top it all off, their vast fortunes are not based on any old school capitalistic notion of profitability, but instead entirely on the value of their stock portfolios, overly inflated way beyond their actual market value due to the promise and potential of their products and the sheer value of their names. Wealth made of vapor. Not one bit more real than the divine right of kings.

So regular people the world over are entombed in a mass of debt while the richest among us have increasingly more political sway and do everything they can to keep us as alienated and apart form each other as they possibly can. How long until the system shifts slightly until you’re paying a monthly subscription to keep the clothes on your back? How long until just by graduating high school you’re burdened with a mountain of debt? And how does this system differ at all from living under a feudal lord, when you take into account how little power you have as an individual?

I’ll tell you how; You have less time off, and if you have any problems at all, you’ll believe it’s all your own damn fault.

[fireheartfaery]

Day 7: “You’re a bad liar did you know?”

masterlist; my links

college AU

TW: panic attacks, mentions of anxiety

Yrene is late. Again. In her twenty three years of life she has strived to be as punctual as her aunt, early by exactly three minutes. But in the last week, with finals looming over her like the death towers they used to sneak into in their teens, she has pulled all-nighters that haven't quite managed to turn into all-dayers. In short she's exhausted, and so is her alarm. Which is why, at 8:02 in the morning she stands in the line at their university café, waiting rather impatiently for her turn at the counter. Her foot taps on the ground, unconsciously, fingers drumming on folded arms. Calculations and anatomy are spinning in her brain as she visualizes the huge whiteboard covered in notes above her bed. Strategically placed their in case gaining information by osmosis may suddenly become a thing and she can actually get smarter in her sleep.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket and with an irritated frown she whips it out.

How are you feeling? Chaol's name flashes across the screen.

She smiles as she slides the screen open and types out a reply to her best friend. Like if i don’t get a liter of coffee i’m going to keel over and die.

He sends wide eyed emojis, please don't drink a liter of coffee. You will die.

hey, She laughs at his worry. Always worrying. who's supposed to be the doctor here? Me or you?

Before she can read his reply a throat is clearing behind her, and a hand is waving in her peripheral vision.

She looks up and realizes there's no-one in front of her. She's holding up the line. Her cheeks burn like coal as she stumbles to the counter. "I'll uh, I'll have my usual." Why is her heart beating so fast? "Large black with a dash of hazelnut."

"Sure, is that all?"

She cannot even breathe, the scratchy fabric of her polo neck is tightening around her neck. "Yes thanks!" She chokes out, laying far too many notes on the counter and dashing out.

Air, the colour of glaciers and mirror fragments, snaps at her skin. She let's it. Her breathing, erratic and struggling fogs, up the pretty world. She sinks to the floor, back grazing the rough brick of the coffee shop. The world is moving in and out of focus. Toffee being stretched and molded around her throat.

A hand lands on her knee.

"Hey," The voice is gentle. It sounds like a muffled echo in her ears. "My name is Mor. I think you're having a panic attack. Is there something I can do to help?"

Yrene looks up, she sees blonde waves and pretty brown. Her throat tightens. She's definitely not breathing. Where has the world gone?

"Okay i’m going to ask you to do something for me." That voice is still so soft. Sweet like her aunt's candied apples.

"Can you try to take a deep breath for me." If she was listening she would have scoffed. "And while you do that I want you to point out five things you can see." There's a beat. "Can you do that?"

She wants to ask how she's supposed to talk when her lungs have been squished like grapes. They will not make flavourful wine.

"Just point with your finger." Mor says.

Yrene sucks in a breath. It is as shaky as a smoker's hands.

She points her index finger at the woman in front of her.

"One." The blonde says.

She points to the ground; can feel the cool under her nails.

"Two."

Her finger catches on the book that had spilled from her bag when she collapsed against the wall.

"Three."

She looks at the sky. It is grey. It is there. She points.

"Four." The quiet smile on her golden lips is back. "Just one more."

Yrene wants to point to her ribcage. To show it isn't expanding. She is going to die. She points to the necklace hanging around her throat instead, the owl pendant warm from her skin.

"Five." Mor holds her hands. She cannot feel the heat radiating of her skin. She cannot feel anything. "Can you tell me four things you can touch?“

She is faster this time. Confused, but clearing. The wool of her jumper. The sunshine locks of the girl in front of her. The fluffy keychain Elide had got her at the start of the year. The plant stubbornly growing out of the sidewalk.

"Three things you can hear?"

Her voice is croaky, strangled in a way she hasn't heard before. She uses it anyway. Because she can.

"The bell above the coffee shop." It tinkles in acknowledgment. Students walk out laughing. "The cars on the road." There's an expensive car in the midst of traffic. She can hear it's soft purr. "My breathing." It is loud and full of life in her ears. She is grateful.

"Two things you can smell?"

She takes a breath, let's the university fill up her body. "The melting snow. It smells like rain puddles, muddy and dirty and fun to play in."

"One more?"

“You." Her senses are all over the place. Her common sense has disappeared entirely. "You smell like cinnamon, and the faintest hint of soap."

The laugh is enough to settle the last of Yrene's frazzled nerves. It is bright and full and carries happiness like a bouquet. She settles, heart rate slowing, lungs expanding, contracting, skin feeling the first nips of cold once more.

"Does that mean you like the way I smell?" The blonde grins, squeezing their still joined hands.

She thinks about it for a second. "Yes." Her earth brown eyes collide with Mor's caramel gaze. "I think I do."

"Can you give me one thing you can taste?"

Yrene knows she's lost it when the first thing that's pops into her mind is the woman's lips. She shuts her eyes to the thought, feeling her bones sludge inside her. Everything aches. She's held herself up for so long.

"How about this?"

The bitter smell of coffee wafting between faint hazelnut greets her. She opens her eyes to see her order dangling between slender fingers. Taking the cup, she tips its back, letting the hot liquid spill down her throat. It warms her from the inside. It burns away the dregs of the panic, hiding in the folds of her. Waiting.

When the cup is drained she looks to Mor, who is sitting their patiently, observing the world.

"How did you know to do that?"

"I suffer from panic attacks and anxiety attacks. It works for me." She shrugs as if it is not a constant and exhausting force. "Also," A bright smile takes over her face, "I'm a psychology major."

"Can I book you as my therapist when you graduate?"

There's that laughter again. The one that lights up all her insides. "I have a while to go before I get to qualified therapist status."

"Really?" Yrene frowns, "How long does it take?"

"I have to get my masters before I can practice."

"Wow," Her mind is a little blown. The med students are so cut off from the rest of the faculties- maybe by choice, maybe by design- that learning about other degrees always blows her away. Just the other day Feyre was telling her about the art students and the portfolios they have to submit. She can't imagine sitting down to pick a topic and then pouring your heart and soul into it. Med school made sense. There was no grey slate, at least for the most part. This is where the ulna is. This is how to tie off your suture. This formula tells you how to blow up the lab. The last one had been an honest miskate... the first time.

"Do you think you can stand?" Mor gets up, as graceful as a flamingo, and then offers a hand.

Yrene takes it without hesitation. She marvels at the contrast between her earth brown skin and Mor's burnt gold. The richest colours in the world. The ones that glow under the sun.

"Can I walk you to your dorm?"

"I have to get to class. If I rush I can be there for the second half of the double."

"Uh," She winces, looking at the hello kitty watch on her wrist. "It's been an hour?"

Her eyes widen to the size of planets. "It's been what?" Her voice is high pitched. "Oh gods oh gods oh gods. What if I missed the exam briefing? What if prof said something vital? What if—"

"Hey!" Mor clamps down on her shoulder, turns her so they're facing each other. Yrene only slightly shorter. "You were in no state to go to class. You still aren't. You should go to your dorm and rest. Maybe eat some carbs. Is there anyone who can take notes for you? And relay information?"

She frowns, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "Well I guess Rowan is in that class, and Nesta."

"They will help you?"

She nods. She breathes.

"Wonderful." Mor smiles. It's is pretty enough that Yrene sees stars. "Then we'll walk to your dorm and I'll make sure you're settled with some chamomile tea and some cheese sandwiches and then I'll go to my own classes."

They start walking, sludgy snow squelching under their boots.

"Won't you be late for class?"

The blonde just grins. She decides not to ask.

"You know I don't know your name?"

"Guess," It's her turn to be all mysterious and cheeky.

Mor looks at her closely, eyes traveling unashamedly from the top of her screwed curls to the tops of her black wellingtons.

"Irene."

She stumbles over herself. Looks at the woman alongside her. There isn’t enough oxygen in the world for her gasp of shock. "That's not it."

The blonde scrunches her nose in amusement. "“You’re a bad liar did you know?”

She sticks out her tongue. "How did you..."

"My friends call me Truth-Speaker."

"That's creepy." She raises a brow. It just makes Mor grin wider. "It's Yrene with a Y not an I."

"Pretty," She mumbles. "My full name is Morrigan."

"Pretty." She echoes. "Hey, you want to come drink chamomile tea and eat carbs with me?“

The blonde clasps their hands together beaming at the leaking blue sky.

"I'd love nothing more, Yrene."

She sees, touches, hears, smells, and tastes the happiness that clings to them as they step into the dorm.

------------------------------------------------------------

When i originally thought up the idea for this Mor was supposed to be the new barista and Yrene the regular and they would meet-embarrassing when Mor gets the order wrong. Do not ask me how it turned into this?

I hope i have been sensitive about this topic and portrayed Yrene and her panic attack properly.

Tags:

 @nishlicious-01​

[whitherliliesbloom]

the instagram boyfriends club

[ ffxivwrite2020 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #16 - lucubration ]

[ various wol/npc ships ] ★ [ 2,576 words ] [ highschool / modern au ]

haurchefant greystone, estinien wyrmblood and alphinaud leveilleur. mentions laurelis by @ancientechos​, peppermint by @mintdrop​. illya is also mentioned and appears briefly at the end. may be a little ooc but do i care?? a lot of the jokes were stolen from this youtube video, which was also the main inspiration for this fic. 

instagram pics are #seriousbusiness

Saturday mornings were typically an uneventful affair, and thankfully so. His duties as the student council president often meant hectic school days filled with a mountain high of paperwork on top of his already impressive laundry list of assignments. Alphinaud was thankful for any little moment of peace he can get - weekends in particular were sacred, reserved only for either relaxation or outings with his family, friends or girlfriend.

And yet...

[[One unread message from Estinien]]

Estinien: meet me at haurchefant’s house in 1 hour. You: Wait. In an hour??? What for?? Estinien: just be there You: ???? You: This is so sudden. Is something wrong?? You: Estinien???

Of course he’d be left on read, as was common when texting Estinien.. sometimes at the most egregious of times. This in particular would be one of the absolute worst examples of Estinien’s utter lack of prudence. No matter how many times Alphinaud would dial his friend’s number, the unanswered ringing would only cause his nerves to spike.

Within the campus grounds he was a well respected figure who possessed more authority than any of the other students of his cohort.. and yet outside of it, he’d always be reduced to being something of a pushover, one who couldn’t help but to allow himself to be pulled by the whims of his friends. 

He could only pray that whatever it was Estinien’s decided to drag him into this time, it wouldn’t take too much of his precious saturday rest.

-------------------

“You want Haurchefant to teach us how to take instagram photos??” Alphinaud’s voice raises in pitch, nothing short of bewildered by Estinien’s request to their mutual friend as he stepped inside of the house. “I never took you to be the type who cared about that-”

“It’s not for me.” With a low grunt, Estinien mutters between grit teeth before settling himself onto the couch with a burdened thud. “It’s for Totomi.”

In an instant, it all made sense, and Alphinaud has to withhold himself from letting out an audible chuckle. It’s no surprise that an outgoing girl from the drama club who has a penchant for the extravagant and flare would like to post photos online for her following to see. Though Alphinaud himself wasn’t exactly an expert on the matter - his own instagram profile was only ever updated semi-regularly with ordinary photos of classmates and student council activities, he was at least aware that there were others who practically lived their entire lives on that app.

“Ah! You wish to learn how to take better pictures for your beloved! How wonderful!”

Haurchefant’s jovial tone elicits a grimace from Estinien, whose grip on his phone only tightens.

“I’m just sick of her asking me to constantly retake shots. I’d rather not have to stand in the middle of the street for ten minutes just to take a single picture of her in front of a brick wall.”

“And you thought to ask Haurchefant...why?” Alphinaud asks with an inquisitive tilt of his head.

“You seriously don’t know??”

“Know what?”

“Haurchefant is called the god of instagram boyfriends.. or some dumb shit like that.” 

“Uh... what?” He’s heard of instagram. He’s heard of instagram models... but what in twelves name was an instagram boyfriend?

Haurchefant’s shoulders pull back in pride upon hearing that indirect praise, however, evidently more than a little pleased that his reputation and ‘fame’.. if it could be considered that, was beginning to spread by word of mouth.

“I’m so truly flattered that you would think so highly of me!” With a raise of both his arms, Haurchefant grins. Estinien rolls his eyes and mutters ‘i wasn’t praising you’ beneath his breath. “Indeed! I will admit to be at least well experienced in the art of taking instagram pictures for my beloved!”

“Laurelis? Pardon me for asking.. I’m not surprised that she has an instagram account.. but what makes you so special?”

Right on cue, Haurchefant raises up the screen of his phone, proudly displaying the profile of the ever familiar pink-haired miqo’te. Admittedly, Alphinaud didn’t know very much about Laurelis. What little he did know was only informed to him by her best friend, who just so happened to be the very same young lady he was dating. And from the few times they’ve spoken, he could see the miqo’te as being quite an instagram addict too - as most extroverted types typically are.

Upon seeing the numbers listed on the profile, however, Alphinaud’s eyes very nearly pop out of his sockets.

“Over five thousand followers?!” That’s more than the entire student body and staff members of Eorzea academy combined. The twelve knows it will take an eternity for Alphinaud himself to see that amount of followers on his account. 

“My dear is something of a minor celebrity! And I take great pride in knowing that I was able to play a small part in helping her take the pristine, ‘aesthetically pleasing’ shots as they say that she is known for today!”

“Good for you.” If estinien’s eyes could roll any harder they’d roll to the back of his skull. 

“Ah, but what of you, Alphinaud? Are you here to learn how to take better photos for Illya?”

The shorter elezen widens his eyes in surprise, not having expected to have a question directed straight at him, but he is quick to shake his head in response. As far as he was aware, Illya wasn’t exactly more instagram savvy than he himself was. She did have an account, one he naturally followed, but it would only ever be updated once every several days - and rarely with actual photographs of herself. Food, plant life and animals made up the majority of her profile’s portfolio, not that Alphinaud ever failed to double tap on any of her pictures, no matter how menial they seemed. 

Though, he supposes she could be considered slightly internet famous as well - just not at all in the same way her best friend was. He hears that her gardening blog has just reached a 2 thousand subscriber milestone, recently.. which he imagines to be quite a feat especially considering it was by all accounts quite literally a website filled with nothing but gardening tips, tutorials and floral arrangement pictures.

“Not exactly. Estinien forced-” he nearly continues to speak, but the low grunt emitted from the couch causes Alphinaud to swallow his words “-encouraged me to come along for the lesson. He said it’d be....livelier with the three of us.”

“Well, there certainly is no harm in more company! Regardless of your reasons for being here, I’m sure the things you’ll learn today will help you and Illya in the future!” 

Haurchefant moves over to the couch, tapping on Estinien’s shoulder who could only let out a groan in annoyance.

“Now then.. shall we get on with the lesson?”

-----------------------------

“Now, let’s do some practice shots! Say that I have asked you to take an OOTD picture!” 

“The hell’s OOTD.”

“Ah, outfit of the day, my friend! Now let’s have you take a picture of me and I shall give you my candid feedback! Starting with you, Alphinaud!”

The shortest of the trio thinks to protest for a moment, but quickly presses his lips together and reluctantly holds his phone up to snap a photo of his taller peer, who has already taken station by the window and posed for the camera.

“Ah a perfectly serviceable photo, my friend! But it has one critical, devastating flaw.”

“I-It’s that serious?? What is it?”

Haurchefant points to the bottom of the picture where his legs were cut off and shakes his head.

“You must never, ever cut off the feet in a full body shot, especially for an outfit of the day picture! This is one of the most common pitfalls of instagram boyfriends!” With an exaggerated wave, he gestures to his boots. “Remember! The shoes are part of the outfit!”

The sheer enthusiasm of Haurchefant’s loud proclamation only gives Alphinaud further whiplash when he turns to look at Estinien, whose face has darkened with the deepest frown he’s seen his friend wear in a long while. 

“It’s just shoes... why the hell does it matter?”

He’s more than a little disgruntled as he recalled the way Totomi had asked him to take a photo of her new wool sweater and jeans, and her numerous loud demands for him to retake the shot with her bright red sneakers in frame. It wasn’t even a new pair - but one she’s worn for years...unable to appreciate the effort she’d went into making sure her entire wardrobe was perfectly color coordinated.

“Grumble all you wish, friend, but these are things of great importance in the eyes of our ladies! Now, repeat after me! The shoes are part of the outfit!”

“T-the shoes are part of the outfit...” Alphinaud mutters, as Estinien grumbles even further. His uncooperative behavior only causes Haurchefant to grow more pushy.

“Louder! With more gusto! THE SHOES ARE PART OF THE OUTFIT!”

“Nobody gives a damn about your shoes!”

No wonder Totomi has to nag him to retake her photos...

-----------------------------

“The angle you take the photo can either turn the picture into a stunning piece of work, or an unaesthetic disaster! Please Alphinaud my friend, demonstrate by taking a photo of Estinien sitting on this chair.”

Alphinaud has never held his phone in his hands for as long as he has on this day, so much that he can practically feel the heat from its overuse start to scald his palms and fingers. And yet he dares not to argue, and instead quickly snaps a photo of Estinien as instructed, who looks just as unamused and tired as he was, if not even more so. 

“Splendid, Alphinaud! The focus is just right! However, you would have done better were you to have taken the photo at a higher angle.”

“What difference would that have made?”

“A high-angled photo slims down the face, while a low-angled picture elongates the legs! Indeed, it may seem surprising, but such small, subtle differences in even the height at which you hold your camera could make all the difference in the world!” One would assume they were listening to a professional photographer speak from the way Haurchefant lectured them about the intricacies and importance of camera placement in taking instagram photographs.. and Alphinaud wasn’t sure if he was more exasperated or amazed. “Now, take a photo of Alphinaud and show me your fine work, Estinien!”

With yet another roll of his eyes, and a barely audible grumble, Estinien steps forward and holds up his phone, towering over his seated friend and quickly snaps a photo.

------------------------

“Now, we shall practice taking pictures of one another within an imaginary scenario.” The cups of coffee and plates of biscuit Haurchefant had fetched from the kitchen were gently placed upon the dining table, before he steps back and gestures towards Alphinaud. “Say your lady and you are on a date, and she asks you to take a photo of her at the table.”

 “Um.. well, something like this?”

Alphinaud holds his phone up to Haurchefant, whose smile falters for but a brief moment.

“Oh dear, my friend.. Did you not notice the misplaced broom in the background?” He leans down and taps on the side of the photograph, where sure enough a blurry and seemingly innocuous broom stood just on the edge of the frame. It seemed harmless enough to him, and yet that mistake seemed enough to cause even Haurchefant, whose joyous demeanor never seemed to be breakable, to slump his shoulders. “The secret to success is a keen eye and attention to detail, my friend.”

For the first time in three hours, Estinien lets out a smirk and a chuckle. It seems the only way he’d get any enjoyment out of this little photo taking lesson is to see Alphinaud be told off and dejected.

“You suck at this, don’t you?”

Alphinaud’s shoulders rise and fall with a nonchalant shrug.

“Pardon, but at least my photographs are in focus.” 

“You wanna say that a little louder again, punk?”

“Now, now! Let us not fight! We are brothers in arms, and there is still much and more to learn! For our next lesson, I shall teach you how to take pictures of food and drinks!”

-----------------------

Alphinaud’s phone battery has never once died on him in his life. Even with his normally liberal use of his applications such as the notepad, calculators and on the rare occasions, prolonged social media use, he’s never used his phone enough in a single day for the battery to ever run out.

That day had certainly been the first.. and it was also at the end of that saturday, upon watching the light and life from his smart phone die out on him, that Haurchefant urged him to get a portable charger... among other things such as a selfie stick. He’d even downloaded one of those photo editing applications, one that he has still yet to fully figure his way around. 

If there was anything he’d learn on that fateful day, and thought to himself as he walked home under the hues of the setting sun that evening, it was that taking instagram pictures was seriously not a joke.

And here he was on a date with the gardening club president a mere week later.. and a far changed... and scarred man.

“Is something wrong, Alphinaud?”

Illya had caught him staring at a brick wall with a piece of particularly ‘aesthetic’ looking graffiti, and for a moment his head had been filled with naught by red blaring sirens and a words that repeatedly chanted ‘photo op’ in his head. It was only by the grace of her voice, and a slight tug of her hand in his that his attention would be pulled away, a forced smile upon his expression.

“Oh, forgive me. I was just.. distracted.”

Illya has never asked him to take a photo of her, much less stopped their date dead in its tracks in order to take a picture for her social media. She never was the type who cared much for arbitrary internet fame and followers.. and he thought he had been as well. 

T’would seem however, that he’s taken Haurchefant’s advice to heart, a little too much for his own good.. and he’s certainly far more attentive of his surroundings and much to his own horror, of the outfits that the people around him wore. One thing he hadn’t exactly counted on however... was an interest being ignited within him, an urge to take photos at golden opportunities in life when he would have otherwise thought it too mundane to capture before his lesson with Haurchefant and Estinien.

And as he stands stock still with a phone in his hands, his adorable and well dressed girlfriend by his side.. and an incredibly aesthetically pleasing looking brick wall.. And the motto of the instagram boyfriends club Haurchefant had asked him to repeat like a mantra that day echoed incessantly in his ears.

‘Her likes are your likes’

The eyes of the camera were to be treated like a gods’.. and if they thought their girlfriends beautiful, what better way to express that love than to capture that beauty on camera and share it for the world to see?

“Would you like to take a picture, Illya?”

[minthysugamon]

Barell of a Gun (Hitman! Jimin x Reader)

(Warnings: This one is pretty dark. Please don't read if you feel uncomfortable at the mentions of Paid Murder,Gambling,Uncomfortable Situations and Kidnapping. This doesn't depict Jimin's real personality. It's only a work of fiction. Please don't associate Jimin with this after you read it,he isn't like that in real life. IT IS ONLY A WORK OF FICTION BASED ON A JAMES BOND-AGENT 47 TYPE OF CONDUCTING LINE)

Word count: 2045

As soon as night has fallen,he started to get ready. Pen,check. Knives,check. 9mm,check. Everything was going perfectly. Park Jimin never paid attention to the victim. At least,he never let his emotions rule over the goal he had in front of him. And that goal was the 1,000,000$ he will get after he eliminated the person in the portfolio. It's a well paid price,and until he does the job without being noticed,it's worth it. He never accorded time to his emotions. It's a rational job,find the person,eliminate them,get paid. Nothing really hard. He prefers to say eliminate because killing would make his targets look like victims,whilst most of them are just rotten people.

"Agent 91,welcome. Please type in the password to unlock." His computer displayed the following words. He typed it in once. Doesn't work. The fourth time,same thing happened. "Fuck. Not again. I don't have time for this shit right now." Jimin was starting to get agitated. The fifth time,he just scanned his retina,hoping it would work. And it did. Thankfully. Because if it hadn't,the whole fuck-up would've cost him a lot of money and primarily his life,probably.

While sitting in the car,you had some Depeche Mode song your brother was blasting earlier in his room,stuck on repeat in your head. It was called Barrel of a Gun or something,the guitar riff was kinda cool so it stuck to your neurones. The ride to the casino was accompanied by an awkward silence,your date for the night has chosen some pompous place to dine at and now wanted to go gamble some money away. He was the son of some rich politician at your school,of course he would do something like that. "Did you like the meal?" The guy placed a hand on your knee,not as if you had asked,but for the moment you didn't do anything. "Yes,i liked it,even thought the wine was a little bit dry for my taste." He simply smirked and rolled up the partition in the back of the Limousine before his hand has made its way higher up on your thigh. "Well..if it can comfort you,i know that something won't be as dry as the wine tonight." Breaking point. You took his hand into yours and simply smiled. "Jacques,listen. I appreciate your gestures and all,but please,please,pretty please,don't ever fucking touch me again without me consenting to it." You heard a pop coming from the bone of his hand,not realising you were literally almost breaking it so you had let it go.

Jimin had stepped into the grand hall of the Casino of Monte Carlo,getting the casual verifications done. He stood at the roulette table,and since he had some time to kill,he didn't mind gambling away some thousands. The main point was to blend in,not to be outstanding. "Mesdames,Messieurs,Faites-vos jeux." He had forgotten how wonderful the french language sounds...as wonderful as a cat choking on some plastic wrap. His bet was put on the number 3,his lucky number. Not that he was superstitious,but it always brought him chance,so...why not this time? "Les Jeux sont faits." As soon as the roulette started spinning,he looked around himself and finally saw his target. But it wasn't planned that he will have company.

Sitting besides Jacques while he was playing a hand,needless to say,it was more than just boring. You never wanted to go home as much as you did now. Plus,the high-heels were killing your feet,it was a plus reason for you to just get up and leave. But you didn't. Simply because he was already kind enough to take you on a date,so,you had nothing more to do than just sit beside him and observe. Jacques wasn't good at Poker,even if he liked to think the opposite,and his loss was already over 100,000€. If he were a simple man,he would already be indebted,but it wasn't the case. The game only started to be interesting when another man sat down at the table and joined the party.

"May i?" Jimin asked with a small smile on his lips. He knew his target was beside him,it will be easier to calculate his every moves. But he didn't realise it will be harder since you were in the frame too. As soon as the game started,he saw that the guy wasn't good at playing,only bluffing,so,he took this to his advantage and told himself he will use the "I'm just tryna help you bro" card later. Jimin's eyes were mostly on you though,and he didn't calculate his emotions,but he would've been lying if he said you weren't beautiful.

You were looking at the cards in Jacques's hands. Seeing the 3 others on the table,he was already fucked,but of course,he had to bluff. "50,bet" echoed from the man beside you and everyone folded. Except one. The new player at the table. "Oh...i see you play with big amounts...let me make it more interesting then. Calling 1600." The black haired man's proposition made you jump a little bit. It wasn't only 1600€,but 1,600,000. "So..? What do you think? Reasonable proposition,no? Or...are you scared of losing?" The guy smirked and your partner stood up. "I'm going for a smoke. Pause the game." "Man,it isn't such a bad proposition,but okay...let's say 1,400,000 to save your honor." He followed Jacques to the balcony. Which was a pretty bad idea knowing how he can get when he's angry,you knew how out of hand the situation could get,he was the same at Uni. Anger Issues was his middle name.

Jimin was only trying to provoke the poor guy. Poor...let's not say that. He was the kid of an asshole that got rich by scamming poor people. Let alone,the father was a politician. The only way for Jimin to attain his final target was to hurt him. Not that he had to,but it was more effective this way. "Stop fucking following me. I have enough of your gimmicks. I saw how you were looking at him. You're on a date with me,not him." The hitman simply laughed. "Oh..you thought your little girlfriend came after you? Believe me,she has better things to do. Now,if you excuse me..." Gun cocked. Silencer already on. And fire. The bullet went straight through the younger one's head,in between the eyes. "Bull's eye. Good." As the body of the guy has fallen,Jimin started to wipe his silencer and put the pistol away. Too bad the girl was at the balcony as he did it.

"What the fuck have you done? WHO THE FU-" You screamed at him,but the scream hadn't live to its full potential as the guy from the table had silenced you with a hit to your head. You woke up five hours later,tied to a chair,in a living room in some old ass apartment,still propably in southern France. "Rise and shine babygirl,you're safe now. My name is...you have no buisness knowing it,but call me 91. Or Jay. Whatever suits you." As you looked around you,you saw nothing you could recognise. Only the feeling of the rag on your mouth was prominent,with the bounds around your wrists and legs. "I guess i should take off the gag...but can i trust you to not scream?" You nodded,already planning to get away somehow. As Jay took off the gag you inhaled and tried to scream but he had his hand in front of your mouth. "I should've killed you when i had the chance. I didn't need any kind of witnesses. But here i am,trying to plan out something so you don't talk. Now. Stop screaming or i'll send a bullet flying through your brain. Also..what's your name again?" He knew it of course...but wanted to hear it as he took off his hand of your mouth and looked at you. "Wasn't that your initial plan? And my name is (Y/n)." The sass in your words left him surprised enough to smile and unload his gun. "Wow,getting sassy i see. I like it." "Why did you kill him? Was it because he was involved in some shady buisness?" You talked way more than you should have. And Jimin liked that. More information means more time...which means a better approach towards the target. "What do i look like? A social justice warrior? Honey,i get paid for shit like this. But now,my only problem is you. What should i do with you? You weren't in the frame. And now you are here,bound to a chair...don't get me wrong,i like the view,but you shouldn't have wandered away from that goddamn table yesterday." You simply lowered your head and looked at his hands. He was fidgeting. Unable to decide what he should do. "You should probably kill me then. I mean,if i am too much to handle,and since you know i'll be talking as soon as i get out of here,you should just choke me to death...quick and effective." He smiled and took your chin with two fingers so you were looking into his eyes. "Let me think about it. But i already know i won't kill you...in the end,you're truly innocent so..there would be no fun in that." "So...you're pretty much a social justice warrior then" He let your chin go and stood up to walk around the apartment.

Jimin knew killing you would've made too much mess,plus,cleaning the whole appartment after it would have taken too much time. Plus...he kinda started to like you. You were the type of girl he could settle with. So he went with plan B...or more like,he wanted to go with plan b which was about to let you go and threaten you to not talk. But as soon as he heard footsteps coming towards the apartment,Jimin changed his mind and chose Plan C. "You'll be coming with me. We have to get away. I already lost more than 3 hours with you getting in my way."

You were quickly untied and he secured a gun around your thigh. "You know how to use one? Just in case,to be safe." Why on earth would he give you a gun? "I could kill you right now if i wanted." "Yeah,i know,but you don't want to. That's the positive point. Now open the window and get out." God knows why you obeyed him,but it was almost automatic. Did you like the rush of the situation? Maybe yes. Maybe it was simply because you were scared...maybe it was because you kind of liked the way the whole situation turned out. He was following you as soon as he cleared the area,and unlocked his car. "Get in. I'll be here soon. No more than 2 minutes." "Huh? Where the fuck are you going?" "Getting my shit and then i'll be here." And with that,he was already on his way.

No more than two minutes after,he was back with his suitcase and the briefcase containing some papers,his pc and most importantly,the money. "Buckle the belt. We'll be on the road for 10 to 15 hours..." "Where are we going?" He simply smiled and turned the engine on. "Let that be a surprise..." "So...you're pretty much kidnapping me,right?"

He chuckled and looked into the rear-view mirror. "It's better than the barrel of a gun against your head at least. And...you'll see,it won't be as bad as you think."

Was this really the life you were about to live? Probably. Was it safe? Probably not,but did you have any other choice? No. But...little did you know,it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

(Y'all,i'm sorry if it is bad...i really wanted something different but in the end idk...it doesn't seem good to me...i let you all be the judge)

[talkfastromance4]

Ashton snippet

Found this while perusing through old docs, it’s titled ‘Don’t Call Me Angel” and it ends abruptly because I never finished or I don’t know what happened. But here’s a snippet of a TA!Ashton as an art teacher. 

Might have to add this to my list of WIPs to finish if it gets good reviews. Let me know what you think :)

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

• • • •

Ashton has always felt things so deeply. He loves deeply, he rages deeply, he sympathizes deeply and he plays his drums with everything he’s got. He tries to keep his emotions in check but they change like the tides, even he finds it hard to keep up with them.

Ashton lives, breathes and sweats creativity. His passion is seen in his brush strokes, his despair is shown through the negative space of his photographs. Long hours spent in the dark room and sometimes endless nights painting on large canvases in his studio apartment has given him the cliché brooding artist look; dark circles under his eyes complete the look.

When he’s not in the dark room or his apartment he frequents the coffee shop that is the perfect halfway point between his familiar places. It’s called Java Bean and serve the best iced coffee Ashton has ever tasted to tell you the God honest truth and the shop is a literal godsend for being open twenty-four hours.

Ashton’s insides are made of caffeine, paint and a constant ebb and flow of pulsating thoughts and phrases that won’t leave his mind unless he writes them down in his sketchbook. That’s another thing Ashton can never leave the house without, his sketchbook.

It’s large, black and hard covered even though the spine has long since lost the potency of its glue causing it to lie open like a cracked crab. It’s filled with his thoughts, lyrics he can’t get out of his head, small sketches of flowers or images he sees late at night when he dreams (when he gets a chance to sleep).

The book is his vice and he would rather die than ever part with it for Ashton is a closed book with every person (aside from his three best friends) but he opens up fully between those pages.

For his last year at University he’s the TA for his favorite art professor, Miss Dooley who is the perfect amount of scatter-brained and genius. She calls every student ‘pet’ and always has incense or essential oils burning in her classroom.

It has been Ashton’s wish and dream to be an art teacher for high school students, to help those like him who want to stay in their shell reveal who they truly are on the inside.

“Hello, my pet,” Miss Dooley trills in her usual sing song voice as Ashton enters the large art classroom.

He inhales the acrylic paint, the fresh wood waiting to be turned into canvases and the waxy aroma from the oil pastels stowed away in a cupboard. It’s one of his favorite smells in the world, the mediums just waiting to be used and Ashton’s fingers twitch in anticipation to create.

“Hey, Miss D,” he grins making a beeline to her desk at the front of the room. Behind her on the charcoal colored chalkboard is her name in calligraphy with broad strokes of curves and flowers.

‘Advanced Art Multi-Medium’ is written in block letters below her name as well.

“Excited for this year?” she asks rolling around a small was of blue putty in her hands. She claims it keeps her fingers and joints from failing so she’ll always be able to make art.

“Yeah, does it look like we’ll have a good class this year?” he taps the pads of his fingers on the black resin tabletop, a habit he’s always had when he’s anxious.

“Oh, I think so,” she beams her robin’s egg eyes twinkle. “It’s a full class this year, which I have you to thank for my little chickadee.”

“Me? What do you mean?”

“You’ve been the best student for the past six years you’ve been here, my prized pupil and a very handsome fella if you don’t mind me saying.”

Ashton feels the back of his neck heat up from her sentence full of compliments. Surely he’s not the reason for a full class this year? That’s ridiculous.

“I don’t think—“

Before he could finish the double wooden doors swung open and a flood of college students entered and Ashton couldn’t help but judge the first few that came in. He recognized three of the girls in front who were in Delta Zeta which he knew the only amount of creativity in their body was decorating photo backdrops.

Apart from them the rest of the class he’s seen hanging around the art wing of the school and at some of the showings he was at. At the rear was one of his best friends, Michael Clifford who decided a month ago to dye his hair a deep purple again. Michael smirks at his friend as he takes a seat next to a petite girl opening up a small black notebook.

Ashton let out an exasperated breath through his nostrils at his friend who did not tell him he’d be taking this class.

“ . . . Twenty- three . . . and twenty-four. Excellent! We’re all here!” Miss Dooley claps her hands together and moves to the front of her desk to smile sweetly at her pupils. “I recognize some of your faces but welcome to Advanced Art! I am Miss Dooley and this young man next to me is Ashton Irwin who will be my aide for this year. Would you like to inform them what this year will consist of?”

Ashton clears his throat then steps forward to stand next to Miss Dooley but ends up leaning his back against the counter behind him. He wanted them to see he was relaxed.

“Hey everybody. This year will be about using different mediums and creating something great out of them and also finding your niche in your art. Every class you’ll have five sketches of a landscape or a self-portrait or anything else that catches your eye. If you don’t have a sketchbook I recommend getting on.”

Every eye is on him and he is making a point not to look anywhere near Michael in the back. He clears his throat again before continuing.

“Your final exam for the first semester will be the beginning of your portfolio which will show the progression of your ‘voice.’ When—“

“Our voice?” a platinum blond of the Delta Zeta trio asks with her hand in the air, a confused pout on her glossed lips.

Ashton folds his arms across his chest, the leather of his jacket squeaks from the motion.

“Each artist has a voice in their work, a certain style that is all their own. That’s why when you see the blurred colors of a lily pond you know it’s Monet or the small pointed brush strokes and vivid colors of Van Gogh. Art is a voice for when you don’t know what to say, you can convey so much emotion into it. By the end of the year I want to be able to tell who’s piece is who’s, that’s how prominent it needs to be.

“If you don’t think you have it in you or won’t rise up to the challenge of being vulnerable, then I suggest you drop the class. Some people really want to be here and create art, I don’t want you to be deprived of that.”

He stands there eyeing each and every person almost daring one of them to stand up and walk out. A motion of a hand raise catches his eye in the back, he thinks it’s Michael and is ready to kick his friend out if he makes a rude comment. But it’s not Michael, it’s the girl sitting next to him.

“Yes, pet?” Miss Dooley calls on her.

“How many pieces should be in our portfolio?” she asks in a gentle voice but with sureness behind it.

“However many it takes to find your voice,” Ashton answers her. She nods then bends over her notebook to write furiously on the page.

“Well, since no one has jumped ship, let’s start off with a little exercise. Turn to the person you share a table with, introduce yourself and sketch them while you get to know each other. You will be each other’s buddies for the semester. Begin, my pets,” Miss Dooley claps her hands together again and all the students shuffle around for pencils and paper.

» » » » »

It’s a Friday night and Ashton is sitting in his favorite booth at Java Bean with his sketchbook out and earphones in to block out the small chatter of other college students. His first week of class as a TA went really well, a lot of the students showed promise. To his amusement Michael’s first sketches were of the little succulents he has scattered about his apartment.

Ashton was pleased that they took him seriously and Miss Dooley always offered her help and guidance to those who had questions. None of the students had approached Ashton but he was fine with that, he’s still learning by watching Miss Dooley interact with them.

Ashton’s hazel eyes landed on Michael and Calum approaching his table as he sipped at his black coffee. He licks his lips watching them approach with shit eating grins on their faces and he reluctantly removes his earphones. He closes his sketchbook with a soft thump, slightly glaring at his friends. They know better than to interrupt him while he’s drinking coffee and immersed in his sketchbook.

“Hey teacher,” Michael snickers pulling up a chair from the next table over. He slumps down in it with his fingers twiddling in his lap while Calum spins the chair opposite Ashton around and straddles it.

Calum pulls his dark gray beanie down lower over his ears then rests his chin on his elbows.

“Can I help you with something?” Ashton sighs leaning back in his own chair.

“Luke’s throwing a party tonight,” Calum begins, “a back to school rager, if you will.”

“Good for him.”

“C’mon Ash,” Michael whines leaning forward on his knees. “Come party with us like old times.”

“You mean like when we were freshman and your head caught fire?” Ashton quirked his eyebrows up.

“We were young and dumb then,” Michael waves it off. “Come on, it’ll be great. The girl I sit next to in your class will be there.”

“And?”

“What girl?” Calum pipes up.

“And she’s cute,” Michael shrugs, “and it will be fun for you to get out of your little hermit hole you’ve set up here.”

“I dunno guys. I want to get up early tomorrow to take some photos of the waterfall. In my photography class I’m doing a series of different locations throughout the seasons, and I think the—“

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Calum interrupts holding his hand up. “Just . . . come hang out with us before you get neck deep in your work, yeah? Just for a few hours.”

Ashton rolls his eyes then sighs before giving in.

“All right, fine. I’ll come.”

“YES! The Ash Man is back!” Michael hollers clapping his friend on the back and the other customers turn to look over in irritation.

“You’ve never called me that,” Ashton says gathering his stuff in his shoulder bag, “and don’t start now.”

 The party was like any other party Ashton has been to in his college career, granted it is a bit tamer than when they were all freshman and sophomores. For the most part everyone had their clothes on which relieved Ashton. He hated having to try and wrangle whoever it was to get their clothes back on.

The townhouse was stuffy with vape smoke making the air foggy, beer and liquor filled his nose and he felt the music course through his body.

“Hey, you brought him!” Luke exclaims with a large smile. His arms are raised bringing Ashton in for a tight hug. “Glad you’re here, buddy.”

“Thanks man,” Ashton says tousling the younger guy’s golden curls.

“Drinks are in the kitchen, but I think I hear a shot of fireball calling your name,” Luke wiggles his eyebrows dragging the guys into the kitchen.

“I haven’t had fireball since New Year’s two years ago,” Ashton chuckles.

“Ashton! Hey!”

His head snaps when he hears his name then wishes that he hadn’t. The voice belonged to Breanne Thomas, a girl he used to hook up with on and off a few years back. She was even the model for some of his photography assignments.

“Oh, hey, Breanne,” he nods politely then shuffles past her into the kitchen. He did not want to relive old times with her at the moment.

“Yikes, sorry, mate,” Calum says handing him a shot glass filled with the golden liquid.

“Whatever, let’s cheers to a new year,” he shakes it off holding his glass up in the air. They all clink and down the shots heartily. Ashton remembers the burn as it travels down his throat and into his stomach.

As the night progresses he becomes pleasantly buzzed and that’s when he knows to stop. He just stumbles out of the bathroom when he hears his name being called and looks up to see Michael waving him over near the back of the house to the backyard.

Ashton pushes through the bodies, waves of weed swirl around his head and it’s so strong he’s sure he’ll get a contact high from it. When Michael becomes more in view he notices the girl from his class standing next to him.

“This is Lennox Hastings,” Michael introduces with a loopy smile. “Lennox Hastings this is Ashton Irwin. Our teacher. My best friend.” A small hiccup escapes him.

“Hi,” she smiles shyly at Ashton, “And it’s just Lennox. You don’t have to use my last name Michael.”

“It’s a badass name, Lennox Hastings! I have to say it all. You should show him your notebook, he’s got one too. Oops, I’ve got to go. Bye!”

He skirts away into the crowd and Ashton shakes his head at his drunken friend then turns to Lennox who now looks oddly familiar now that he knows her name. Apart from seeing her in his class he swears he’s seen her somewhere else before, but where? Or did she have a twin?

“I’m sorry you’re stuck with him as a table partner,” Ashton apologizes and she laughs lightly.

“He’s not so bad. He’s fun to talk to when I’m not working.”

“How’re you liking the class so far?”

“It’s good, I’ve been looking forward to it since I got here, actually. I was in all advanced classes in my high school and I’ve heard how amazing Miss Dooley is.”

“Yeah, she’s great,” he smiles then glances around at their surroundings. There’s a couple making out against the fridge and Ashton realizes it’s Calum and some short blond haired girl. “You wanna step outside? Get some fresh air?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” she smiles opening the door.

Ashton picks up two water bottles from the bucket on the counter then follows her into the warm August night. The screen door swings shut behind him, he inhales deeply and sits on the gliding bench besides Lennox.

“Thanks,” she says taking the water bottle from him and takes a sip. “This isn’t weird, is it?”

“What isn’t weird?”

“Us being out here? You’re basically my teacher,” she laughs nervously.

“Nah, I’m just an aide. I’m not a teacher yet,” he grins at her.

Now that he’s not inside the house with loads of distractions all around, he can finally get a good look at her. She looks familiar for some reason now as he stares at her in the yellow porchlight. Her auburn hair is pulled up in a half ponytail with some fly aways clinging to her round cheeks. Her eyelashes are long atop her doe eyes and Ashton finds himself wishing to see what type of blue they are and if he could paint them.

“You’ll make a good one,” she says pulling him from his wandering mind.

“Ya think?” he leans back and rocks the glider back and forth slowly, it creaks and groans as he does.

“Yeah, you control the room well and I can tell how passionate you are about art.”

“Thanks,” he says sheepishly. He’s never been able to take compliments well, whether it’s about his art or himself. “How’re the rest of your classes going?”

“Okay so far, lots of work already in my poetry class and advanced art,” she gives him a sly smirk and nudges his ribs playfully with her elbow.

“You write?”

“Mhm. Wrote a lot this summer, great inspiration,” she says grimly.

“That’s good, right? I’ve heard writers block is shit.”

“It is.”

“So what inspired you?” he turns his body so he’s angled towards her more.

Lennox shakes her head, a piece of hair clings to her lip and Ashton desperately wants to pull it away.

“I don’t want to bore you with my heartbreak, Mr. Irwin,” she says.

“Please, call me Ashton,” he grimaces at the title. “I’m an artist, too, remember? Heartbreak makes the artist.”

“You already know it, though, the cliché story of girl meets boy. Girl falls for boy and they date and commit but then the boy gets a record deal and leaves girl behind.”

“Wait,” Ashton sits up straighter when he heard record deal. “You aren’t talking about Harry Styles, are you?”

“You know him, huh?” she says airily.

“Yeah, we don’t get along very well. At all, actually,” he chuckles.

“How come?”

“That’s not important right now. I’m sorry he hurt you.”

• • • •

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**if your url has a strike through it’s because your blog didn’t show up as a tag! :(

[musicanddancingthroughlife]

Protecting the Spiderling Pt 3

Avoiding the five essays and four stories I’m meant to be working on because it’s 1AM and I don’t want to :P Plus, I laid back to do some writing, but forgot my novel (that I’m literally writing a paper on) on the other side of the couch and ugh I don’t want to get up to get that XD In other news, I think I’ve said, but final papers are coming up, so I’m in the middle of a mad rush to try and finish up everything so I can use these last weeks to just work on final term papers and portfolios. Also, this idiot here decided she could totally read 30 books this month alone, so.... I’m at 20, maybe 21 if i get to read tonight, but I’m taking recs if you guys have any quick reads that you liked XD

Hope you enjoy because I enjoy writing this but I’m not sure that the story’s all that great. Still working out the characters. Here’s Part 1 and Part 2, if you haven’t read them yet :) If you guys have any fics of mine you’d like to see more of, I’m always excited to hear from y’all! Also, I’m drained of ideas right now lol, so feel free to throw thoughts at me. No promises, but you never know :) Marvel I’ll do anything so long as Peter and/or Tony are involved, and y’all know me and Voltron haha

EDIT: It has a title now, guys, I’m such an idiot

-----------------------------------------

As soon as Peter left for school the next day, Steve and Tony made their move, calling all the Avengers to a meeting. As soon as they gathered, Bucky quietly moved to the door, ensuring that no one could leave until Tony was done with them. He scoffed when Natasha was the only one who noticed him move. Some heroes. They were just bullies. And idiots.

               Although, as far as Bucky knew, they couldn’t really blame Bruce, but whatever. He needed to hear this, too. Better that everyone be on the same page.

               “Something has been brought to our attention, and we felt it would be better if we addressed it sooner rather than later,” Steve didn’t even bother with pleasantries. He could feel Tony fuming beside him, and felt it was more important that they get this taken care of before his boyfriend tried to go on a murder spree. While Steve had no doubt Tony could take on any of the Avengers, he also knew that Peter would be upset if half the Avengers were killed by his dad, and then Tony would be sad, and then Bucky would brood cause his favorite boys would be upset, and then Steve would have to listen to all of them mope and whine. Ugh.

               “What the hell is your problem with my kid?” Tony demanded. Steve closed his eyes briefly, praying for strength – because yes he was going to dive right in, but not like that – and when he let his eyes open again, he saw Bucky face palming on the other side of the room.

               Natasha spoke first, “I thought you said you weren’t related to the boy?”

               “That’s not the point, Romanov. The point is that child is in my care and custody, and the other adults,” Tony spat the word like it was an insult, “are treating this like the school playground and bullying the only actual child we have here! It’s a pretty sad day when a 16 year old kid is more mature than Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.”

               As Bucky had suspected, Bruce was staring at everyone with surprise and amazement on his face; he had been completely unaware of what was happening to Peter. That still wasn’t an excuse, but that really just told Bucky that he wasn’t spending enough time with the kid, just as he himself hadn’t been. Sure, Bucky hadn’t really been around for most of the custody thing, but even he had seen more of the abuse in the couple of days he’d been back than Bruce apparently had in the last few months.

               “He’s too young for the field.”

               “Excuse me?” Steve froze. Tony’s voice was dangerously low. “Care to repeat that, Rustwing?”

               But Sam bit his lip, and Clint spoke up instead. “He’s just a kid, Tony. It’s not fair for you to let him on the field.”

               “You can’t honestly tell me that you’re just jealous that the kid gets to see action on more of a regular basis than you do.”

               “Antoshka,” Romanov spoke up again, “he’s too young. He’s going to get hurt, and that’s not fair. He shouldn’t be out in the field at all, because it’s going to get him killed, and that’s going to destroy you.”

               There was a long silence, and then Bucky’s disbelieving voice. “So you, what? Thought that you could drive him away… So he would stay off the field? That’s actually what you thought was going to happen?”

               Even Bruce was gaping at the spy. Maybe he wasn’t as oblivious as Bucky had originally thought. Clint persisted.

               “Well, yeah, because then he would realize that he wasn’t part of the team or anything, and then he would take that time to just go ahead and be a normal kid, because let’s face it, fighting crime – especially the way he does – is not in any way normal, even for an adult. So this would—”

               “You are such an idiot,” Bruce hissed. “That wouldn’t stop the kid!”

               Tony scoffed. “No kidding. If anything, that would only encourage him to be more stupid on the field, Birdbrain.”

               “I feel that we’re getting slightly off track,” Steven broke in. “The main point that we’re driving at is that Peter is a child. One that is under Tony’s – and therefore our – protection. Bullying him by shooting at him—”

               Tony shot Clint another dirty look, and Bucky counted it a blessing that he wasn’t calling a suit right then and there.

               “—or by ruining his homework, or threatening or even manipulating him to stay in his room is not acceptable.” With each word, Bruce was looking more and more green. “I mean, my God, does it make you feel fucking good about yourselves to make a kid cry? Is that what you were looking for, some kind of entertainment?”

               At the reminder of Peter with tears in his eyes, Peter apologizing for being in the way, Peter scurrying off with his overly full bag and what little homework he had saved, Bucky felt anger wash over him again.

               “You will be apologizing to Peter.” Tony’s voice was like ice, and it sent both Steve and Bucky on high alert. “Otherwise you can find other living arrangements. If you can’t respect my family, then you will not be allowed to stay here.”

[thelastchair]

Powder Magazine

(Written by Sam Cox - December 28, 2020)

Growing up in Montana, my winter free time was consumed by skiing. Big Sky was the destination when I was barely old enough to walk. Eventually we made the move to Bozeman and Bridger Bowl became my second home. During the early years, my family made the trek to a handful of Warren Miller movies when they were on tour in the fall and Snow Country was the magazine subscription that landed on the coffee table. I was vaguely aware of Jackson Hole, Snowbird and Squaw Valley and my father would occasionally regale me with tales of skiing (read Après) in Germany when he was in the Army. At some level, I already understood that there was something special about Bridger, but realistically, my sphere of outside influence was quite small. Christmas of 1989 turned my entire world upside down. My aunt and uncle are longtime Salt Lake City residents and Brighton skiers. Typically they would send a package each year with the customary cookies, toffee and a card. However, this year they sent two VHS tapes and a magazine - Ski Time, Blizzard of Aahhh’s and a copy of Powder. Things would never be the same for me. Scot Schmidt became my hero, Greg Stump was taking skiing into uncharted territory and above it all, Powder created an eloquent voice for our sport and was the fabric that held things together. Even at my young age, everything that I’d intuitively sensed before was distilled into a potent desire to devote myself to the simple pursuit of being a skier.

Johan Jonsson, Engelberg, Switzerland - Photo: Mattias Fredriksson/POWDER

Powder was founded in Sun Valley by the Moe brothers in 1972 as an annual portfolio of The Other Ski Experience. After several years of running the magazine, Jake and David Moe sold Powder to the owner of Surfer Magazine. A repurposed aircraft hangar in San Juan Capistrano became the new home of skiing’s most prestigious publication. Over time, there was an ebb and flow to the size of staff and cast of characters, each person leaving their unique mark. For decades Powder weathered corporate acquisitions, office relocations and the constant metamorphosis of the ski industry - never losing its voice, Powder remained the benchmark. It was a source of creativity, inspiration and a defacto annal of history. For many it was also a shining beacon, a glimpse into a world filled with deep turns and iconic destinations - even if this world could only be inhabited inside the constructs of your imagination.

My story and the impact Powder had on the direction I would take is hardly unique. The magazine left an indelible impression on countless skiers. When the news broke this fall that operations were being suspended indefinitely, a heartbroken community took to social media to pay homage to the magazine and how it changed their lives and in some cases, careers. This is my version of a tribute and it’s definitely not perfect. In order to gain some perspective, I reached out to former staff members - a collective I admire and respect. It’s an attempt to articulate the essence of Powder, capture its influence on the skiing landscape and give credit to the people who made it come to life. 

Bernie Rosow, Mammoth Mountain, CA - Photo: Christian Pondella/POWDER

HANS LUDWIG - The Jaded Local

“Skiing has always been really tribal and one of the last vestiges of having an oral history. Powder was a unique concept, because they weren’t really concerned with the family market. They were just concerned about being really into skiing. Growing up in Colorado and skiing moguls, my coaches Robert and Roger were featured in the early Greg Stump films. Being in their orbit, I knew a little bit about skiing culture and what was going on out there, but didn’t have the whole picture. The Stump films resonated with me, but Ski/Skiing Magazines didn’t really do it for me. Powder was the door that opened things culturally, it was the only entry point before Blizzard of Aahhh’s.”

“Something that nobody gives Powder credit for, is sponsoring the Greg Stump, TGR and MSP movies and giving them full support right from their inception. It legitimized those companies and helped them become one of the catalysts for change and evolution in skiing. Ultimately this change would have happened, but at a much slower pace without the support of Powder. Getting support from Powder meant they’d weeded out the posers and kooks and what they were backing wasn’t something or someone that was “aspiring” they were a cut above.”

“Powder brought a lot of things into the mainstream, raised awareness and helped to legitimize them: Jean-Marc Boivin, Patrick Vallencant, Pierre Tardivel, telemarking, monoskiing, snowboarding, the JHAF, Chamonix, La Grave, Mikaela Shiffrin, fat skis pre McConkey, skiing in South America….the list goes on.”

“I had some rowdy trips with Powder. Writing “Lost In America,” I went Utah-Montana-Fernie-Banff-Revelstoke via pickup truck, only backcountry skiing and camping in the mud. It was a month plus. I did another month plus in Nevada, which was after back to back Jackson and Silverton. Total time was two plus months. That was fucked up, I was super loose after that whole thing. So many sketchy days with total strangers”

“People forget that Powder was around long before the advent of the fucking pro skier. Starting in 1996, the magazine was in the impact zone of the ski industrial complex. There is limited space for content each season. It was a challenge to balance the pressure coming from the athletes and brands to cover something that was going to make them money vs. staying true to the Moe brothers original intent and profiling an eccentric skier, a unique location or even fucking ski racing.”

Full Circle - Photo: MJ Carroll

KEITH CARLSEN - Editor

“When I was young, Ski/Skiing didn’t do anything for my spirit, but Powder lit me up. It ignited a passion in diehard skiers and gave them a voice and community. It was focused on the counter culture - the type of people who rearrange their lives to ski. This was in direct opposition to other magazines that were targeting rich people, trying to explain technique, sell condos or highlight the amenities at a ski area.”

“Skiing has always been my outlet and mechanism to get away from things in life. My two talents are writing and photography, so I enrolled at Western State with the direct goal of landing an internship at Powder. Even at 19, I had complete focus on the direction I wanted to take. If it didn’t work out, my backup plan was to be a ski bum. 48 hours after graduating, I was headed to southern California to live in my van and start my position at Powder. When the decision was made to close the magazine, it was really personal for me. Powder had provided me direction in life for the last 30 years and I needed some time to process it. In a way, it was almost like going to a funeral for a good friend - even though it’s gone, the magazine lives on in all of us and can never be taken away.”

“It was, and will always remain, one of my life’s greatest honors to serve as the editor-in-chief for Powder Magazine. It was literally a dream that came true. I’m so grateful for everyone who came before me and everyone who served after me. That opportunity opened literally hundreds of doors for me and continues to do so today. I owe the magazine a massive debt of gratitude. Every single editor was a warrior and fought for the title with their lives. They were doing double duty - not only from competition with other publications, but the internal struggle of budget cuts, staff reductions and trying to do more with less. Powder never belonged in the hands of a corporation. The magazine spoke to an impassioned community and never made sense to an accountant or on a ledger.”

Trevor Petersen, Mt. Serratus, BC - Photo: Scott Markewitz/POWDER

SIERRA SHAFER - Editor In Chief

“Powder celebrated everything that is good and pure in skiing. It highlighted the old school, the new and the irreverent. The magazine also called bullshit when they saw it. It was a checkpoint, a cultural barometer and an honest reflection on where skiing has been and where it’s going.”

“My involvement with Powder came completely out of left field. I was never an intern or established in the ski industry. My background was strictly in journalism, I was a skier living in Southern California and editing a newspaper. I knew that I wanted to get the fuck out of LA and Powder was that opportunity. It was a huge shift going from my job and life being completely separate to work becoming my life. Literally overnight, Powder became everything - friends, connections and part of my identity. It derailed my trajectory in the best possible way.”

Brad Holmes, Donner Pass, CA - Photo: Dave Norehad/POWDER

MATT HANSEN - Executive Editor

“Keith Carlsen was a man of ideas, he had tremendous vision and influence. He came up with the ideas for Powder Week and the Powder Awards in 2001. In some respects those two events saved the magazine.”

“Powder was the soul of skiing and kept the vibe, it changed people’s lives and inspired them to move to a ski town. As a writer I always wanted to think it was the stories that did that, but in truth it was the photography. Images of skiing truly became an art form, 100% thanks to Powder Magazine and Dave Reddick. Dave cultivated and mentored photographers, he was always searching for the unpredictable image from around the world and pressed the photographers to look at things from a different angle.”

“It sounds cliche, but writing a feature about Chamonix was the highlight for me. Sitting on the plane, things were absolutely unreal. I linked up with Nate Wallace and the whole experience from start to finish was out of my comfort zone. Ducking ropes to ski overhead pow on the Pas De Chèvre, walking out of the ice tunnel on a deserted Aiguille du Midi right as the clouds parted, late nights in town that were too fuzzy to recall. The energy of the place taught me a lot. I didn’t have a smartphone and there was no Instagram - I had time to write, observe, take notes and be present with who I was and with the experience. As a writer it didn’t get any better.”

“The true gift of working for Powder, was the once in a lifetime adventures that I wish I could have shared with my family, I was so lucky to have had those opportunities. It almost brought tears to me eyes.”

Peter Romaine, Jackson Hole, WY - Photo: Wade McKoy/POWDER

DAVE REDDICK - Director of Photography

“Just ski down there and take a photo of something, for cryin’ out loud!”  “I’ve found that channeling McConkey has been keeping it in perspective. Powder’s been shuttered. That sucks. What doesn’t suck is the good times and the people that have shared the ride thus far and I’m just thankful to be one of them. There’s been some really kind sentiments from friends and colleagues, but this must be said - Every editor (especially the editors), every art director (I’ve driven them nuts), every publisher and sales associate, every photographer, writer, and intern, and all the others behind the scenes who’ve ever contributed their talents get equal share of acknowledgment for carrying the torch that is Powder Mag. There’s hundreds of us! No decision has ever been made in a vacuum. Always a collective. At our best, we’ve been a reflection of skiers everywhere and of one of the greatest experiences in the world. It’s that community, and that feeling, that is Powder. I’m not sure what’s next and I’m not afraid of change but”  “There’s something really cool about being scared. I don’t know what!”

Scot Schmidt, Alaska - Photo: Chris Noble/POWDER

DEREK TAYLOR - Editor 

“Powder was the first magazine dedicated to the experience and not trying to teach people how to ski. It was enthusiast media focused on the soul and culture. It’s also important to highlight the impact Powder had outside of skiing - today you have the Surfer’s Journal effect where every sport wants that type of publication. However, prior to their inception, everybody wanted a version of Powder.”

“Neil Stebbins and Steve Casimiro deserve a lot of credit for the magazine retaining its voice and staying true to the core group of skiers it represented.”

“Keith Carlsen is responsible for the idea behind Super Park. This was a time when skiing had just gone through a stale phase. There was a newfound energy in park skiing and younger generations, this event helped to rebrand Powder and solidify its goal of being all inclusive. Racing, powder, park, touring - it’s all just skiing.”

Joe Sagona, Mt. Baldy, CA - Photo: Dave Reddick/POWDER

JOHNNY STIFTER - Editor In Chief

“What did Powder mean to me... Well, everything. As a reader and staffer, it inspired me and made me laugh. I learned about local cultures that felt far away and learned about far away cultures that didn’t feel foreign, if that makes sense.”

“But I cherished those late nights the most, making magazines with the small staff. Despite the deadline stress, I always felt so grateful to be working for this sacred institution and writing and editing for true skiers. We all just had so much damn fun. And it didn’t hurt meeting such passionate locals at hallowed places, like Aspen and Austria, that I once dreamed of visiting and skiing. The Powder culture is so inclusive and so fun, I never felt more alive.”

Doug Coombs, All Hail The King - Photo: Ace Kvale/POWDER

HEATHER HANSMAN - Online Editor

“Powder is a lifestyle and an interconnected circle of people. It’s about getting a job offer at Alta, opening your home to random strangers, locking your keys in your car and getting rescued by a friend you made on a trip years ago. Through the selfish activity of skiing, you can create a community of people you cherish and can depend on through highs and lows.”

Ashley Otte, Mike Wiegele Heli, BC - Photo: Dave Reddick/POWDER

The contributions of so many talented individuals made the magazine possible. I would like to express my sincere gratitude to everyone who shared their experience at Powder with me. Also, I want to thank Porter Fox and David Page for crafting inspiring feature stories that I enjoyed immensely over the years.

After the reality set in that the final issue had arrived, a void was created for generations of skiers. I’ve been focused on being thankful for what we had, rather than sad it’s gone. It’s a challenging time for print media and I wholeheartedly advocate supporting the remaining titles in anyway you can. In a culture driven by a voracious appetite for mass media consumption and instant gratification - I cherish the ritual of waiting for a magazine to arrive, appreciating the effort that went into creating the content and being able to have that physical substance in my hand. Thanks for everything Powder, you are missed, but your spirit lives on.  

Captain Powder - Photo: Gary Bigham/POWDER

[lazarustrashpit]

Hey if you want to be an artist, I want to be artist but on the side since I am worried about the financial situation and I have to get a career and stay in school that’s what my parents say do you think I can become an artist still or? Or how do you manage? I’m not sure o becoming an artist since I’m not that good at digital, colors but I would like to be but in a more financially stable future.

Hi anon,

They don’t call us starving artists for no reason.

I’m not sure I’m the best person suited to answer this, as this is something I personally struggle with in becoming a full-time illustrator. However, I’m going to give you as honest of an answer as I can based on my own experiences. Please note, that I do not speak on the behalf of other artists. 

I’ve been a graphic designer for over 10 years, and an art director for a production company for half of that. What you see me doing on social media is something out of pure hobby. Fan art doesn’t pay my bills.

Short answer: Yes, it’s possible to become a full time artist and be financially stable. Is it easy? DEFINITELY NOT. Like with literally anything, it takes a lot of work and dedication to be successful. I’ve had the pleasure of conversing and working with several different types of artists. We’ve all struggled and continue to struggle, but the pay off is incredibly rewarding, if you can get your foot in the right door... but you gotta find the right door to begin with. What kind of artist are you interested in becoming? 

Artist is a vary vague term. There’s so many different career paths for each specialty. Comics: Pencilers, inkers, colorists, letterers; Concept artists: props, vehicles, costumes, backgrounds, fauna, aliens, buildings; Animation: 3d modeling, flash animation, compositing, rigging, storyboards, 2d hand drawn animation, 3d computer animation, stop motion animation. There’s a lot of positions out there. Saying you want to be an artist is like saying I want to be a doctor. Okay, but what type? Podiatrist? Veterinarian? Neurologist? Pediatrician? Psychiatrist?

Long scary answer below the cut.

Disclaimer: I’m not speaking on behalf of other artists, just my own opinion from my own experiences. Also, I am in no way trying to discourage you because a lot of what is written below is negative. The last thing I’d want is to deprive the world of another artist, but I also don’t want to provide some sort of false hope.

Being a full time artist is not easy. It’s extremely competitive regardless of what industry you want to dive into. It’s a lot of work and sleepless nights overcoming deadlines, your own self-esteem, and the biggest hurdle of all, finances.

Choosing any career is a big deal. As stated above, you have to do your research to really understand what you’re going to get yourself into. What’s the job market like for where you currently live? If there are not enough opportunities, are you willing to move for work? Yes, a lot of jobs can be done remotely, but if we’re talking about being financially stable, your best bet is to get yourself in with a studio full-time or on a long contract project. Freelance artistry is difficult—you set and negotiate your own rates for projects, and you’re responsible for marketing yourself to keep getting jobs, not to mention you are more susceptible to getting scammed and taken advantage of. And with social media being a driving force for a lot of marketing, you’re constantly fighting with the algorithm to get your work seen. Not to mention, there’s a lot of pressure because you get paid per project and if you can’t land a project, then you’re not getting paid. Whereas if you can work for a studio, the work is brought to you on a consistent basis, provided you can keep up with the demands and perform to the task at hand. A lot of the work may be repetitive and time sensitive, but it will be steady. Working for a studio/business gets you benefits like retirement options, health benefits, vacation/sick pay, tuition reimbursement, etc. 

There’s also the other side of being a freelance artist that no one ever really talks about. Everyone thinks that we spend every day just pumping out art, which is somewhat true, but we don’t often talk about the missing the endless emails with clients, the constant marketing, searching on artstation, fiverr, etc for gigs, querying literary agents, changing your portfolio(this is another thing I can talk about for days so hit me up in DMS if you want to discuss) constantly to reflect your very best work, keeping up on all your social media platforms to engage your audience, honestly, finding an audience in general is another conversation, dealing with carpel tunnel and other muscle related injuries... it goes on and on.

I moved 3000 miles across the United States from my hometown to California for better work opportunities. Are you prepared to work another job(s) to make ends meet? I worked in retail and a handful of odd jobs for several years before I fell into an actual full-time art job. 

Ultimately, it really depends on how passionate you are about this, and how much you’re willing to struggle to get to do what you want. For me, I fall into a very depressive state if I can’t flex my creative muscles for even one day. I worked as an event coordinator for several years, and was never worried about money. However, despite being financially well-off, I was so incredibly miserable every single day because I just didn’t have the energy to draw when I got home. It was nearly impossible for me to get out of bed every morning. Then, I landed a job as a graphic designer, I made less, but I was so much happier, but it still wasn’t enough. I would work a full day and still come home and draw something after having dinner, even though I had already spent 8 hours being creative beforehand. It’s literally something I just need to do to be happy. It helps me relax and de-stress. So, what I’m saying is, if you’re not passionate about it, don’t make it your main focus. Why open a restaurant if you’re not ready to wake up at 3 am to bake bread or go to the fish market for fresh ingredients? 

In the end, I’d rather be dirt poor and drawing, than be wealthy and miserable. But that’s not for everyone. It really, really, really, just depends on who you are.

A lot of artists have day jobs and do art on the side for supplemental income. If you have the drive to keep that up, because it will be taxing on your physical and mental health (please take proper breaks), then please pursue it. I would NEVER want to discourage anyone from pursuing art as a career or hobby. I just want to be real about the struggle. The beautiful thing about art is that it’s never too late to fall into. It just takes time and dedication to the craft. I’ve spoken with dozens of animators that didn’t fall into it until they were in their 30s and now work full-time for Disney. Anything is possible if you have the talent and the drive for improvement. 

Again, I’m not speaking on any other artists’ behalf. I’m sure we all have differing opinions and experiences on the topic. Feel free to DM me if you want to talk about this further. As you can see, I can ramble about this for days, so I’m just gonna shut up now lol

[emilyofjane]

Life Update (don’t worry, it’s a good one this time)

For those of you that have been following me for awhile, you might know that my personal life has been kinda...rough this year. But things have been going a lot better for me recently, and I have BIG news about my career path and my future as a whole.

But first, I need to provide some background:

As you all know, I’m a senior Biochemistry major in college, and I plan on graduating this December. Over the past year, however, I slowly began to realize that I’m...really not that good at my major. I’ve always kinda struggled in my science courses; I’ve never been able to make any higher than a B in any of my lectures, and the only labs that I earned an A in were my Capstone labs because my mentor is just really nice. When I started applying to grad school this past summer, I suddenly discovered that my major GPA (which is based only on my science courses and is separate from my overall GPA of 3.3) was well below 3.0 — too low to get accepted in any of the graduate programs I wanted to apply to.

The whole reason I became a Biochemistry major in the first place was to use it as a stepping-stone for my ultimate goal: to move on grad school and become a cancer researcher. So when I suddenly realized that I was guaranteed to be rejected from grad school no matter what, all of my plans for the future were suddenly turned upside-down. I felt like I had just wasted 4 1/2 years of my life working towards a degree that I didn’t even want; I was stuck in limbo with a mediocre undergraduate transcript that would never lead me to where I wanted to go in life. To make matters worse, I had taken out nearly $80K in student loans at this point, so I couldn’t just jump ship and switch majors, either. I was too far into my degree to turn back now, so I just felt stuck in a career path that I wasn’t even good at, let alone enjoyed.

My confidence took a nose dive after that, as did my motivation. It made me feel so incompetent to see everyone else breezing through my senior-level science courses while I struggled to get a C, that by the time my last semester started this fall, I sort of just...stopped trying. I didn’t see the point in putting in my best effort when I knew it was never going to be good enough anyway. I hit my lowest point in October, when I couldn’t even bring myself to log onto my Zoom lectures or pull up the slides to study. My grades plummeted beyond the point of salvaging, but when I finally broke down and told my mother about it, she refused to let me get a full medical withdrawal, basically forcing me to fail all of my classes and drop my already low GPA into oblivion. I truly felt like the world had set me up for failure, and that my entire future was ruined.

But then, as I was crying in bed and silently cursing out my mom for refusing to help me, I suddenly had an epiphany.

I’ve always loved to write and create, ever since I was a little kid. I remember writing stories in my notebooks in elementary school, which blossomed into writing short stories on Neopets, roleplaying and collab writing with my Deviantart mutuals in middle school, and eventually writing fanfiction on Tumblr and AO3. For the past few years, my catchphrase has always been “in a perfect world, I would’ve become a screenwriter instead of a scientist” because writing was my true passion, but my parents wanted me to pursue a practical career instead. You see, my parents are both business people, and their philosophy has always been “you have to make sacrifices to yourself and your family.” And I’ve always been a pretty smart kid — not a god-given genius like they thought I was when I was younger, but still very bright — and I’ve always thought that science was neat, particularly astronomy. That’s why I ultimately went into science instead of art; my parents convinced me that I could never make a living doing what I loved, and that I should become a scientist so I could support myself and my future family instead of “wasting my intelligence” on becoming a “starving artist.”

But if there’s one thing that they never took into account, it’s that I’m not like them. I’ve never really cared about money or material things in general — all I really need is food, caffeine, a roof over my head, a nice soft bed, my cat, and some wi-fi access, and I’m happy as a clam. I don’t care about going on regular vacations, or living in a fancy house with a pool in the back, or having a wardrobe full of cute and fancy clothes, or driving a nice car without bumps and scratches, or whatever the case may be; they never took into account that I don’t need any of that stuff to be happy, and I never have. And, even moreso, they never took into account that I’m not straight. They pushed the heteronormative narrative on me for so many years — that I was practically guaranteed to find my soulmate in college and get married and have kids or whatever — that I honestly believed them; it wasn’t until I actually got to college and discovered that I was aroace that I began to think otherwise. By my Junior year, I knew that I was never going to get married or have a family of my own, and frankly, I was perfectly okay with that. Besides, quarantine alone has been living proof that I’m perfectly content with living as a hermit by myself with my cat. Add these two factors together, and it becomes increasingly obvious that money is never going to be an issue with me; as long as I can pay the bills and support myself and my cat, that’s all I’ll ever need.

I realized all of this as I was sitting there in my bed, and it was at this point when I finally asked myself: did I really want to spend the rest of my life doing something that only made me miserable?

Once I realized this, something changed inside of me. I decided that I didn’t want to pursue science anymore, and I wanted to pursue my real dream of becoming a screenwriter in LA. And the very next morning, I marched straight to campus and met with every person I could think of to make it happen.

Now I’m planning to graduate with a Regents Bachelor of Arts in December, and I managed to drop all of those science courses I was failing in while keeping enough credits to maintain my student status. I haven’t reached the finish line yet — hell, I’ve literally just gotten started — but the important thing is that I got started. I finally feel like I have control over my own life again, and this is honestly the happiest and most optimistic I’ve felt about myself and my future in years.

Tl;dr I’ll always love and appreciate science, but I finally realize that I was never meant to be a scientist. My true calling is to be a writer, and that’s exactly what I’m going to be. I’m going to graduate with my Regents Bachelor of Arts this December, build up my resume and portfolio, save up enough money to move to California, and become a screenwriter for TV and movies in LA. It’s not going to be easy, and it’s not going to happen right away, but I’m not going to let that stop me from following my dreams — no, never again.

[semisofthours]

distance isn’t going to make me stop loving you. [repost]

warning: unprotected sex, dirty talk, and a little bit of choking.

a/n: this is my first smut and I hope it is alright.

you and bang chan used to be really close friends in high school, some would mistake you two for a couple. sadly, you two never got together due to him being a hard-working trainee and you working on your art portfolio for college. it was quite difficult for both of you to hang out since you were an early bird while chan was a night owl. luckily you two still found a little bit of time to keep in contact, whether it be a phone call or a small coffee break.

something that the both of you kept to yourselves for a majority of the friendship was feelings towards each other. you were always head over heels for chan and chan always felt lucky and proud to have you in his life. he was actually the first one to confess his feelings towards you.

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿          flashback.           ✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

the whole of stray kids was at your place, you cooked them a ton of food while most of them were playing video games in the living room. chan wrapped his arms around your waist and whispered into your ear,

“you know, I love you y/n.”

this didn’t completely catch you off guard but you sarcastically replied, “well duh, I’m great. who wouldn’t love me chan?

he pressed his chin on top of your head and sighed.“no silly, I’m in love with you.”

you were speechless, unable to comprehend what you just heard. your entire body tensed up and your face turned a whole different shade of pink.

“chan, have you been drinking? you get awfully affectionate when you drink, darling,” you say softly as you face him and wraps your arms around his waist.

“y/f/n y/m/n y/l/n, I love you so much. it makes me feel drunk.”

you couldn’t help but cry when you heard those words, “c-chan I love you too but we’re not going to be together for long. y-you know that...” you say softly while hiding your face into his chest.

“I know doll, but the distance isn’t going to make me stop loving you. I can pinky promise that” he said in such a calm tone while confidently holding out his pinky.

“Okay, but if you break this promise then I won’t know how to forgive you,” you state while making serious eye contact.

chan pressed his lips all over your face and you were just laughing the whole time because he’s so damn cute.

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　                          ✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

after that night all you could think about was distance, how would it affect you, chan, and the relationship as a whole… would he end up falling for someone else?

once you and chan went your separate ways, those questions started to disappear from your mind. you and chan focused so much on your careers that it separated the two of you. as much as you love chan, you know that his career is way more important than you. it’s all he wanted and you know you shouldn’t take that from him. 

you being the person you are, you tried your hardest to make sure chan and the rest of stray kids took care of themselves, even if that meant spending $100+ on food for them...

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July is never a busy month for you so you spent a lot of time designing future tattoos and creating music on the side since it seemed to relax you. Luckily, you only had one appointment for the whole of July and you don’t even know what this person looks like. they also want a surprise tattoo so this session is just going to be amazing.

the morning before the session, the mystery person calls and suggests to have a larger design ready for them. since you were thoroughly prepared, you tried to talk about a price but the callers simply state, “I’ll pay you whatever you’re willing to take.” which left you in a total blur. that voice seemed familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

FINALLY, YOU’RE MEETING MYSTERY MAN WITH SOME OF YOUR FAVORITE WORK. you spent hours making sure your entire studio was crisp and clean. for some reason you felt extremely nervous, you began playing some music that you love to sing and dance to. you spent what feels like forever singing and dancing to pass time (it was really 10 minutes of singing and dancing). you finally hear your client at the door and once you open the door you were hit with a wave of emotions.

you were trying your hardest to keep your composure but you just couldn’t stop the tears from coming out of your eyes,”c-channie? is it really you??” you exclaimed while covering your eyes. “hi doll, it’s really me. your channie!” he says while wrapping his arms around you,” I’m not actually here for a tattoo but I did want to see what could’ve been on my skin.” he states while bringing you back into your own home.

as you wipe your face, you quickly got up and grabbed your designs. “well, since I didn’t even know it was you!! I drew like 6 different things. cherry blossom tree, koi fish, a microphone, and different landscapes.” you said happily, “I’m quite proud of all of these, especially the landscapes.” you notice chan flip through your designs and finally looks up at you, “wow. they are all phenomenal y/n. I especially love the cherry blossom tree!” he softly states as his heart flutters for you.

“thank you chan but what the hell are you doing here??? I thought you and the guys have a bunch of important things to do.” you nervously claim while grasping his hands.

“I do have important things to do and seeing you is the most important thing I have to do today. I have missed you so damn much y/n, it’s making me crazy.” he pauses for a moment and moves you onto his lap.

“I miss holding you, miss your scent, the way you whine my name whenever I don’t do something for you. I miss making you and your heart flutter, miss your kind words, your random doodles, I just miss you, darling,” you felt him tense up as you tried to get comfortable on his lap, “ahh chan, you know you can always call me or come over,” you say in a slight seductive way, “I’ll always make time for you, as you said many months ago distance isn’t going to make me stop loving you.” you couldn’t help but grab chan’s face just to bring it closer to you. “You took the words right out of my mouth y/n. I can’t believe you remember that.“ chan’s hands wrap around your waist so tightly you could feel his heart pound against your skin.

"Can I please kiss you? it’s been so long since I’ve kissed your beautiful face.” chan whispers into your ear. all you did was a nod in excitement which made your body grind up against chan’s thighs. as chan was kissing your body, you couldn’t help but squeak and whimper very slightly at his warm touch.

you felt a little embarrassed at the small noises you made and decide to get up,“ I’m sorry… I’m being noisy.” you mutter while grabbing his hand,“ but I need you so badly. I need your touch and your love baby…” his eyes start to glisten in a way you’ve never seen before, he decided to get up and follow your steps.

“my baby doll is being needy, I haven’t heard you whine for me in a long time.” he states while sitting on your bed, “come on doll, I’ll take good care of you.”

as you crawl into bed, chan immediately moves you onto his lap. you felt his lips quiver along your skin as you slowly grind amongst his member. as much as you wanted to pick up the pace, chan just wanted to take things slow and savor every moment with you.

your hands roam his torso as he left marks along your collarbones, “let us take this off chan, I want to admire your amazing figure.” you whisper while playing with the bottom of his shirt. he quickly obeys your request and you felt your eyes widen, “have you been working out? your muscles look so defined!!” you say in excitement.“ well, of course, I’ve been working out, I wanted to look my best for you.” “you’ll always look amazing in my eyes baby!” you exclaim while placing your face onto his shoulder, “hold on channie, I have a surprise for you.”

you got up, played some music, and slowly started stripping for chan, while also dancing to the music. you were in black lingerie which showed off all of your own tattoos.

chan was completely mesmerized by the way you put on a show for him, his pants restricted his member which made him crave you even more,“ darling comes here now… I need to be in you.” he stated in a dominant tone. as you slowly crawl back onto the bed chan places his hands on your face and passionately kisses you. you felt his craving for you, so you took the initiative to pull down his pants. “all these years, you’ve been hiding this from me?” you stated while grasping his full member into both of your hands,“ my goodness baby… do you think you can handle me? I don’t want to hurt you.” chan mumbles as he thrusts into your hands. you softly chuckle as he worries, “channie don’t worry, I’ll make sure you fit. now, let me taste you.”

you left a trail of kisses along his torso and hips, he was a whimpering mess for you and my god you loved it. as he filled your mouth, you felt his hands grip your hair which made you moan against his member. he softly moaned out,

“y/n~ o-oh my god. your mouth feels so fucking good.” as you listened you felt his hips buck which made you gag a bit. “y/n if you don’t stop, I will literally cum in your dirty mouth.” you hummed against his member as you stare into his eyes while feeling him tense up even more. he forcefully pulled out of your mouth, grabs your waist, and positions your bottom in front of his face, “baby, you’re being naughty. I wouldn’t want to punish you right now.” he says while running his finger between your slit.

you buried your face into your bed while squirming at his touch,“ please touch me… I need you…” you whimper softly which sound like music to chan’s ears. he removes your underwear and slowly pushed his finger into you, your body decides to move into his finger and make soft moans into your bed. “my darling is so tight, I can’t wait to stretch you out. I can’t wait to see you whine and whimper just for me.” he said softly while leaning towards your thighs,“ I just love every part of you so damn much.” you felt his lips press against your skin and instantly perked your bottom up for him.

“my g-goodness, m-more, please… channie please.” he smirks and slaps your bottom, “not yet darling, I don’t think you can handle my cock just yet.” chan slowly puts another finger in you and kisses your hole very gently, “you’re dripping y/n, you taste so good.” he hummed against your skin which caused you to squirm even more. as he picked up the pace, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your climax. “I’m t-too close baby. please please get inside of me.” he softly chuckles as he pulls his fingers out and positions himself at your slit, “okay love, are you ready? if it hurts please tell me.”

you nod quickly and push yourself closer to chan,“ yes yes, please fuck me.” he slowly pushes himself into you and grips your waist tightly, “holy shit, you are so so so tight. so tight and wet for me, aren’t you?” a mix of moans and whimpers fill the air as you struggle to answer him.

his hips bucking at an unsteady pace which makes you weak. chan sits back onto the bed and pulls you onto of his lap,“ please ride me, baby, I need to admire you.” you catch your breath for a moment and slip his member into you, “channie you’re fucking huge…” you bit your lips and wrap your arms around his neck while pushing yourself all the way down. you can feel chan’s breath along your skin, you slowly grind amongst his member.

chan lets you take your time, you moved your hands towards his neck in hopes to restrain his breathing for a little bit. “hmm, what do you think you’re doing sweet cheeks? do you want to choke me?” all you do is nod while slowly adding pressure to the base of his throat, as he slightly struggles to breathe you decide to pick up your pace quite a bit.

you made sure all of him was in you, hitting your sweet spot every time you push down. you tried your hardest not to make loud noises but chan made that impossible for you, “channie please please pound into me, please please.” that plead came from your gut and chan felt it.

he quickly placed you onto your back and pushes himself all the way into you, grazing your sweet spot again. chan muttered curse words and your name constantly, making you feel even better about letting him fuck you. chan rubbed your slit gently while ramming himself into you as fast and rough as he can. you moaned and whimpered loudly while gripping chan’s blonde hair.

“i-i need to c-come…” you were clenching around chan’s member and trying to hold yourself together until he says that you can come, “channie, please… I need it.” you whined and plead for him to let you reach euphoria and finally, he pulls out and replaces his member with his wide tongue. “y/n~ come now, baby. come all over my face.”

finally, you were able to let yourself go and my god, chan looked like he was ready to have another round. as your high came down, you realized he hasn’t come for you just yet. “babyyyyy I want your load in me!!”

chan chuckles and squeezes your cheeks, “okay darling, open nice and wide for me.” he states while positioning himself by your lips. you quickly obliged and placed your hands on his thighs. he thrusts himself into your mouth while gripping your hair, he was close to his climax but just wanted to admire how you looked with his member stuffed into your mouth. “ahhh y/n~ you look so good right now. oh fuck.”

he kept hitting the back of your throat which made your eyes water and you gag. after one last thrust, he finally released his load all into your mouth and you hummed in complete pleasure.

“I missed you so much channie~ I love you so damn much!” you whisper while laying down beside him, “thank you for this baby. I love you too y/n.”

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿          aftercare.           ✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

“Let us take a nice warm bath, I feel like I was quite rough with you today.” chan says as he sits up, “I’ll only take a bath if you carry me to it,” you said jokingly as he quickly rushes to start the bath. all of a sudden you’re in the bathtub with chan’s fingers brushing through your hair and rubs your body very softly which made you melt into his arms.

after the nice and calm bath, you put on chan’s old sweatshirt that he lent you many years ago. “y/n I’ve been looking for that sweatshirt for years!!! why didn’t you tell me it was with you?!” he exclaimed as he crawls into your bed. “You never asked me about it baby, so it’s mine until you ask.” you jokingly said while sticking out your tongue and crawling into bed. ”also, I think I look much better in this sweatshirt than you do baby. it just fits me so perfectly.”

chan laughs as he brings you up to his face,” whatever you say y/n. anyways goodnight my sweet peach, you’ll need to rest for what I have prepared for tomorrow.” your face showed clear shock but you refused to argue since you were just so tired, “okay channie, I love you so much!! goodnight.”

“I love you too y/n… sweet dreams,” he says before kissing the top of your head and slowly falling asleep with your head on top of his chest.

[bluedaviau]

「 cherry. rachel hilson. cis female. she/her. 」 are you ready for the time of your life, BLUE DAVIAU? the TWENTY ONE year old FINE ART graduate from tulane is ready to HOT AIR BALLOON  in DUBAI this semester. close friends would describe them as IDEALISTIC and CREATIVE, but there’s really only one way to find out. get ready for what august has in store for you, BLUE ! 「 pepper. twenty one. est. she/her. 」

ABOUT THE MUN.  the 2000 claymation film chicken run radicalized me

what up, i’m pepper, i’m twenty four, and not to flex but i’ve had writer’s block for two str8 months !! but i’m hoping to change that right here right now with one ms. blue daviau so thank you for coming on this journey with me friends it’s gonna be wild. a bit about me is i’ve gone to the mall literally every day this week and honestly, i am Exhausted from it so i apologize for the mess this intro is about to be. i’m a taurus with a libra moon and libra rising so do with that information what you will. my favourite pokemon is mewtwo. growing up i had a massive crush on danny phanton and ben 10, like i loved those lanky boys that could transform to fight crime for some reason?? i can’t tell you why. also when i was a child i thought god looked like king triton from the little mermaid. alright that is enough about me, moving on to blue. 

BIO.  if you use my coloured pencils you better put them back in rainbow order

this is going to be the short version of her bio but if you want to see the long rambly messy version you can find my google doc/app here ! which i recommend you looking at for no other reason than to see how cute the little cherry doodle i inserted in there is. it took me so long to get that in there and looking cute. it’s baby’s first fancy google doc 😌 anyways sdjhdsjh 

blue was born and raised in hawaii! her mother, stormi, was miss hawaii state at one point and her father, reggie, was a pro surfer! however before blue was born her father had a surfing accident that left him in a wheelchair. he turned to art to try to cope with the trauma of this accident and the reality of never being able to surf again, and he even opened up his own gallery! his gallery became a tourist attraction in hawaii and pretty well known in the art community and after passing down her crown blue’s mother became a news anchor. so the fact was blue was the daughter of two local legends in hawaii and the expectations were high!

not to mention the fact that all of blue’s elder siblings were amazing too. blue has five older siblings and all of them are successful in their own right and in their own niche. they’re also all named after colours funnily enough. the daviau parents had big hippy energy in case you were wondering. 

so growing up blue was always just kind of the ‘other’ sibling. all her older siblings had showed their talents at a young age and grew into them pretty quickly, while blue was just kind of... there. she was an artist, but she wasn’t a groundbreaking artist. she could sing, but her voice was simply pretty, not lifechanging. she could surf, but she was average at best. to put it simply, blue was the daviau sibling who wasn’t at all special. which ironically, made her stand out like a sore thumb. 

blue didn’t mind too much though, at least not when she was younger. she kept to herself anyways. all blue wanted do when she was younger was read, draw, and explore hawaii’s wild life, so she had everything she could possibly need to be happy right at her fingertips. life was good for her despite her inadequacy, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t aware of it (and wouldn’t develop a complex about it later).

when blue was six though her parents decided that they needed to have sweet, sweet, baby number seven to save their marriage. they named that sweet boy gray. he did not save a damn thing, but he sure was cute. blue was eleven when her parents finally divorced and that pretty much marked the end of blue having any kind of parental guidance. 

long story short, both of blue’s parents went kinda buckwild the moment they were single and most of the responsibility to take care of five year old gray fell on blue. blue was the one to make gray’s meals. blue was the one to give gray a bath. blue was the one to tuck gray in at night and get him into his school clothes in the morning. blue was the one to help him with his homework and hold his hand as he crossed the street and honestly pretty much do everything for him until she was about seventeen. both her parents simply checked out on that front, and it the end blue was more of a mother to gray than either of their parents were. 

the pressure of having to not only take care of herself but also gray when she wasn’t even legally an adult yet, was honestly way too much for blue. her anxiety skyrocketed, and the pressure she put on herself only grew. the only way blue could really cope with it and calm herself down was by 1. losing herself in nature, 2. drawing, or 3. reading, or rather most likely, doing all of the above at once. using art of an escape pretty much guaranteed that blue’s love and passion for it grew, and with that her talent for it. by that time blue was seventeen she had a full portfolio ready to send off to any university outside of hawaii that would take her. because you bet your bottom dollar your girl was getting the hell outta there!

as we all know blue got accepted to tulane. it was hard to leave gray and her family behind, but blue set her mother and father straight before she left, ensuring that gray would be well taken care of in her stead and hoping that some distance between herself and her family that was so dependent on her (her mother never new how to cook so blue made all the meals, her father never knew how to handle gray so he was always coming to blue to advice, gray was absolutely lost without her, etc) would lift that pressure off her shoulders. 

it didn’t at first. the first few months were tough with all the calls blue got from home. that plus the schoolwork she had on her plate almost left her more stressed than before. however, slowly the calls began to fade and slowly blue was able to put her full focus in her art program, and later, her animation programs. 

sorry folks my brain is fried, we’re gonna stop here!

HEADCANNONS. on all levels except physical i am sitting on top of the moon with my legs swinging back and forth

Blue’s father is in a wheelchair from the surfing accident that made him take up art. His past as a professional surfer is actually part of the reason why his gallery is so popular though honestly, because the accident was televised and after that tragedy many of his fans and the public wanted to support him. He just also so happened to be really talented. But yeah, Blue’s father was really talented at surfing, he was even invited to the summer olympics in the nineties! But he was also the type to refuse to go because ‘surfing should be freeing, the olympics have so many restrictions, it takes away from what surfing is!!’ dkjsd he was that type yk? I also imagine Blue’s parents were the type to be on the front lines at protests. As it is, Blue is the same, very passionate, definitely has made some bomb ass posters and t-shirts for every women's march she’s attended.

Blue can play the ukulele really well and she honestly has a really pretty singing voice. However she can’t dance even a little bit. Honestly, she could literally break a bone. Really wants to throw it back though 😔

Loves to bake and cook because they’re relaxing activities with built in rewards. Learned to bake and cook because of having to take care of herself and her brother's meals when she was younger, that is if she didn’t want them both to literally get diabetes. As it is though, now that she doesn’t have to worry about her baby brother’s diet as well as her own, she will make a whole chocolate cake just cause she’s a little stressed and proceed to actually eat it. But she will share though. Catch Blue coming to your hotel room with sweets.

All of Blue’s elder siblings are adults now, but Gray is still about sixteen. They exchanged letters from Hawaii to Tulane and Blue always spends hours decorating hers and including little snacks and cute little knick knacks in them, despite the fact that Gray is now an angsty teenager and does not find these things as entertaining as he used to. Despite that, they are definitely the closest out of their siblings for the most part.

Blue’s siblings' names are Sage, Jett, Jade, Ruby, Rose and of course Gray. Jade and Jett, and Ruby and Rose are both twins.

The type to cry easily honestly. Also the type to carry other people’s problems with her. Like if you tell Blue that someone hurt your feelings last week she will remember and she will check on you the next time she sees you. Very empathetic, almost to a fault though because she’s constantly being careful of everyone else’s feelings rather than her own. The type who’s a good listener though. Also the type to give either really good advice or really odd advice.  

Art still tends to be her happy place, something she got from her father. Trying to find her own place outside of her father's shadow. She wants to get into the world of animation and cartoons but the whole task is a bit daunting. Is planning to work her ass off for it though! Spends a lot of time in coffee shops storyboarding and making animations. I think she may have a contract going on with a cartoon network of some sort, like they may have picked up a show of hers? Because I imagine her putting out some of her first shorts on Youtube and that might have gotten a bit of attention and led to her getting a deal for a show, so. She’s probably working her ass off towards that, and is honestly probably 1.doubting if they really picked up her show because of her talent or her father’s name, and 2.wondering if she can really do this.

Loves water in all shapes and forms. Since she can’t go to the beach everyday, the small bath in her tiny ass apartment??? Suddenly heaven. That said, Blue is either terrified of the ocean or loves it and I can’t decide which. Standby on that.

Makes a great coffee cake. Like it’s to die for.

Is VERY passionate about the environment. Is a pescatarian. Goes to the farmers market to pick out fresh produce. Loves to hike.

Always has the urge to sketch or paint after she reads poetry or novels. Highlights her favourite bits and has the tendency to read them over when she’s sad. The parts she loves are usually the parts that leave her wanting something.

Draws when she’s sad too. Claire Saffitz energy when she’s cooking but also just through life. Very friendly, but an introvert when it comes to gathering her energy.

Lives for libraries and bookstores, and has stacks on stacks of books in her old apartment. Loves old children's books honestly, like The Secret Garden, and poetry. Like whimsical and fantastical fiction with flowery words that just brings you to another place? Blue’s freaking jam. Falls in love with someone in fiction every five days, and desperately wants to be in love in real life, hence all the tinder dates and blind dates. I don’t think Blue ever has fallen in love though, like not really.

An absolute baby when it comes to the cold. Literally there could be a slight breeze and Blue will be acting like she’s suddenly in the arctic.  Any cold destinations will be greeted by a bundled up Blue’s Clues.

Made her first painting out of her own feces at six months old. Her parents proudly framed it. It’s probably still up in the attic in their Hawaii home.

Won her first art show at six but was unsure whether it was because her art really was something worth awarding or because of her father’s name. The award got her on the front page of the Honolulu Tribune but with her father proudly at her back and the title ‘Following in her father’s footsteps’ above her head. Blue just wants to find her own footing in the art world, and be her own person.

Keeps a journal and has since she was a teenager.

WANTED CONNECTIONS. i’m the friend that needs help opening water bottles. 

coming to theatres near you soon!