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sarahlevys · 4 years

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SO YOU WANT TO GET INTO TWYLEXIS

(a fic rec post - last updated 10/31/2021)

11/25/20: I have been talking to a lot of people about The Good Ship Twylexis, and when @earnmysong asked me for some fic recs, I could not resist! Below are some of my favorites, organized by length. This is not intended to be an exhaustive list, and is simply composed of some of the ones I’ve read. I hope you check them out!

10/31/21: Nearly a year later, the fandom has grown by leaps and bounds! I've been able to add many excellent Twylexis fics to the below list. I tried to keep these recs focused on fics in which they are either the only ship or a substantial part of the narrative, so while there are many fics nowadays that have Twylexis as a side pairing, those will not be listed below. Now that we can be more choosy, I've also removed fics that featured Twylexis as part of a throuple or moreple (so that I can hopefully do a fic rec list for that specifically in the future!)

So I see Alexis is getting back out there. (Short Reads)

in the middle of the deep blue night – T – 577 – by @hullomoon

Alexis is all alone at the party, that is, until Twyla joins her.

in the hack – G – 2K – by thingswithwings

After Ted, and before the Next Thing, Alexis joins a curling team. She's great at it, because, what, like it's hard?

Icarus had the right idea – T – 4K – by Luthor

In which Alexis convinces Twyla to take her to the beach, and has an okay-time I guess.

never saw you coming, never be the same – G – Podfics! 15 minutes in total – by DelilahMcMuffin, GoLBPodfics, & Amanita_Fierce

Three different perspectives from Twyla Sands and Alexis Rose's first Pride spent together as a couple.

to be your harbor – E – 4K – by @doublel27

Twyla uses some of her money on things that are special to her. Alexis is special to Twyla. Luckily, Twyla is precious to Alexis.

and it's just around the corner darling, 'cause it in lives in me (no, I could never give you peace) – T – 3K – by beepbedeep

She’s what people call the worst, most pointless kind of celebrity, a socialite, and she does it better than anyone else. It’s good, she knows it’s good, she’s serving her purpose, playing her part perfectly, and if she doesn’t really know how to be alone with herself, how to handle the actual weight of her life when the gossip blogs get bored and the photographers stop showing up for a while, that’s fine.

i knew from the beginning (it was you from the beginning) – T – 1K – by @anniemurphys

Twyla and Alexis celebrate, at a distance.

i took an arrow to the heart – G – 3K – by @sarahlevys and @landofsonlali

Twyla calls Alexis in celebration of the fourth anniversary of their friendship, and the conversation shifts to their feelings for each other. Together, they start to explore the intricacies of love and relationships.

aflame – T – 4K – by @pretendtofly

Alexis has a few days left in Schitt's Creek after the wedding and Twyla wants to spend them all together.

could be your baby, ride the same whip (oh no, no, there's no slowin' down) – T – 3K – by @turningtimeinthetardis

Alexis doubts anything too surprising will happen when she and Twyla decide to go on a little shopping spree (such as they can afford, that is) at one of Elmdale’s boutiques. Maybe they’ll encounter some truly hideous blends of patterns, but nothing stranger than that.

After all, if there’s one thing Schitt’s Creek and the surrounding suburbs can offer, it’s quiet predictability.

I weigh a hundredandfuckingsomething pounds (that makes me almost good) – G – 2K – by beepbedeep

Her legs don’t look good, but half of the girls she knows have legs that look even worse, smiles that are even more shark-toothed or arms that are even less toned, and she reminds herself that these are just the rules', that she knows the rules and knows where she’s failing, but other people are failing more.

shining, shimmering, splendid – G – 1K – by @davidbrewer

Twyla finally starts spending some of her lottery winnings on things that make her smile, and learns how much she loves to travel. Who better to show her around the world than Alexis?

ask 'em my questions and get some answers – G – 1K – by @lilythesilly

Alexis and Twyla meet at Disneyland.

a handprint on my heart – T – 4K – by averita

Five times Alexis and Twyla visit each other.

Merry Go Round – T – 2K – by Perkalil

In her first days in town, Alexis is in a rough place; she finds kindness and compassion in the local cafe waitress.

feel you on my skin – E – 1K – by @hullomoon

Alexis notices what Twyla's wearing. She has a lot of feelings about it.

you make everything good – G – by @rosedavid

Twyla has to go and visit her gaggle of cousins for two weeks, and Alexis is pouty about her girlfriend leaving for so long.

didn't ask for this – you freely gave it (so now i watch your mouth for the both of us) – T – 6K – by @turningtimeinthetardis

Alexis chops her name down to three letters like it's nothing.

Twyla thinks about it a lot.

putting roots in my dreamland – G – 4K – by @lilythesilly

A twylexis flowershop au.

(but if baby, i'm the bottom) you're the top – E – 3K – by @sarahlevys

Five times Twyla tops Alexis, and one time she lets Alexis top her.

three o'clock – E – 2K – by @schittyfic

Two tipsy girlfriends thirst over the hot, bearded guy across the bar.

shivers – E – 5K – by @anniemurphys

Alexis has a long day in an airport, and Twyla wants to take care of her.

This Stupid, Wonderful, Boring, Amazing Job – G – 1K – by @lilythesilly

A cute lil 'The Office' AU.

in calm or stormy weather – T – 4K – by @anniemurphys and @landofsonlali

On National Siblings Day, Alexis spends the day with her favorite brother Patrick, and David bonds with Twyla.

all i need is to see your face – G – 1K – by @wild-aloof-rebel

Alexis has doubts. Twyla knows how to soothe them.

got a fistful of four leaf clovers – T – 1K – by iphigenias

Two weeks before Christmas Alexis calls David.

“So I think I like someone,” she says.

all i want is you – T – 1K – by @landofsonlali

alexis is too restless to cuddle and worries about being a good partner to twyla who loves cuddling. twyla reassures her.

Fifty Shades of Gruyere – E – 2K – by @schittposting

Alexis and Twyla eat cheese and fuck.

I dreamt about you last night – G – 930 – by sonichallows

Alexis has a romantic dream about Twyla and tells her about it the next day.

Mistletoe – T – 2K – by in48frames

Alexis and Twyla go ice skating.

Twy, what are you doing here? You could be anywhere, doing anything. (Medium Reads)

Twyla's Cafe Podcast, An Alexis Rose Production, Produced by Alexis Rose (with help from Twyla) – T – 6K – by @whetherwoman

Twyla and Alexis start a podcast, and accidentally have some feelings along the way.

Crystal Clear – G – 6K – by @imalittlebitgogirl

Twyla and Alexis meet at a Winter Solstice celebration and bond over being newcomers...with more connections than they first realize.

take me out (and take me home) – M – 7K – by @anniemurphys and @landofsonlali

When Twyla’s Thanksgiving plans fall through at the last minute, Alexis flies back to Schitt’s Creek.

know that i’m yours (to keep) – T – 8K – by @anniemurphys

Five times Alexis and Twyla talk at Café Tropical.

And one time they talk somewhere else.

I Offer You My Heart – G – 10K – by @landofsonlali, with art and podfic by @sunlightsymphony

Twyla is the owner of a coffee shop in Schitt's Creek and Alexis is a frequent customer, featuring pining, flirtation, and a whole lot of beverages and baked goods.

Oh Please, Not Now – T – by in48frames

“Oh,” Twyla says. “Yeah. Schitt’s Creek is super haunted."

Ladies Night Inn – T – 15K – by @imalittlebitgogirl

What if Twyla had accepted Alexis' invitation to a ladies night in her motel room after she and Mutt broke up?

i'm your moonlight, you're my star – M – 14K – by @sarahlevys and @anniemurphys

Twyla and Alexis spend the holidays together.

and the stars look very different today – T – 12K – by @hullomoon, with art from @hagface

Teaming up with a group of talented women, Alexis plans her next job

Hide Your Diamonds, Hide Your Exes – T – 8K – by @middyblue

Alexis may or may not be a diamond thief. Twyla is the FBI agent tasked with finding her.

heaven is a place not too far away – T – 8K – by @sarahlevys

Alexis' soulmate mark – the ability to sing – triggers when she moves to Schitt's Creek.

Pretty Follies – T – 9K – by @treepyful

Alexis and Twyla team up to play matchmaker for Stevie and Ruth.

Unfortunately, the course of true love never did run smooth.

Everything That We'd Ever Need – E – 12K – by @middyblue

5 times Twyla went skinny-dipping and 1 time she wore a dress.

Rollin' With the Homies – T – 9K – by @sarahlevys

The Clueless AU.

Phasers Set to Stunning – T – 9K so far (WIP – 2/4 chapters published) – by @kindofspecificstore

Patrick wins passes to San Diego Comic Con, and takes his best friend Twyla with him. Alexis Rose, rising star of Galactic Sunrise Bay, is attending for the first time and has her eyes on a super cute cosplayer.

I was thinking we could have a little ladies' night at my place. (Long Reads)

you and i and nobody else - E – 124K so far (WIP – 7/10 chapters published) – by @sarahlevys and @anniemurphys

Twyla Sands and Alexis Rose meet on Mutt’s season of The Bachelor.

Maybe If You Stayed – E – 14K – by @fraudulentzodiac

“Years down the line, this is the moment she will look back on as the moment she should have known she was in love.“

your body’s poetry (speak to me) – E – 19K – by @anniemurphys

Ballet AU.

I’ve Only Ever Wanted Fire – M – 26K – by @sarahlevys, with art from @rhetoricalk

Written for the prompt: Twyla is a real estate agent specializing in properties that are haunted or possessed. Alexis is looking for a new apartment.

Silence Lay Steadily – E – 44K – by @davidbrewer

A ghost story loosely inspired by The Haunting of Hill House.

like glass from sandy ground – M – 18K – by @middyblue

Five times Alexis ran from grief, and one time she didn't.

Taste of a Poison Paradise – M – 15K – by @lilythesilly

Be gay do crimes but make it a Harley Quinn AU.

Half of My Soul, as the Poets Say – E – 20K – by mixtapesandsunsets

Yes, she imagines telling the Alexis of two years ago, who had felt so untethered sitting next to Twyla outside these very rooms. You believe in fate. Your fate is right in front of you, Lex, you just need to reach out to meet it. It’s her. It has always been her.

#twylexis #alexis x twyla #twyla x alexis #twyla sands #alexis rose #schitt's creek #schitt's creek fic #fic recs

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jtrbluv · 4 years

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shutterbug | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, unbearable but relatable tiger parents

request: Jungkook,, one shot,, 38 + 40 please 😊😊 @asiivnc

“you leave whenever you feel like it.” & “don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.”

A/N: sheesh, i have not posted in a hot minute! i’ve been trying to work on this single request throughout quarantine and it really only came down to these last few days where i literally had a spike of inspo and drive and well,, ideas LOL. i considered an alternate angstier ending but i am a self-indulgent mofo who doesn’t like to make myself cry even though i’m sure i cried while writing this at least once (maybe twice). there is so much jk content on my blog i wanna set aside more time to write for other members from now on until i’m satisfied! regardless, thank you @asiivnc for requesting this and sorry for the wait luv, hopefully this can make up for it !!

Jungkook was known to be heavily passionate and fully invested in whatever his life had revolved around at that moment. As a film/photography major, as well as a man that just had a strange knack for being naturally adept at whatever was thrown at him, he incessantly poured his utmost efforts into his works. You weren’t any different, as you held just as much significance in his life as the way his serotonin levels would skyrocket as soon as his fingertips touched his precious camera.

Not to be self-absorbed, but you always thought of yourself as his muse. Or befittingly for his sake, the subject of the photo that you would give the title ‘his lover’.

You were so indisputably sure that you loved the boy and even moreso that he felt the same. While being so accustomed to his own nurturing ways and devotion to you and the reciprocated energy on your part, the bone-crushing weight of college hindered all and didn’t give a single fuck about anyone or anything.

Carrying the begrudging burden of having to succeed because he didn’t take the traditional lawyer/doctor career route, was always at the forefront of his mind. Likewise, for fuck’s sake, he nearly got disowned by his own parents and it took him what seemed to be a lifetime’s worth of energy to convince him to just give him a chance. Jungkook was not planning on taking that chance for granted.

Jungkook, being the person he is, was excelling, and his name was beginning to become known in the community of photographers and videographers, and he was finally starting to feel at ease. His parents were even acknowledging his successes to the extent that they were helping him financially with school, which was a huge burden off of his shoulders. And then you suddenly crash-landed into his life and just made his life even more fulfilling and by all means, worth living in.

He knew it was a bad idea. Distancing himself from you was the last thing he wanted to do. All his parents were concerned about was the fact that you were the only thing hindering him from making it “big”, when turns out, you became the sole inspiration and muse for most of his recent works. So they gave him an ultimatum to either be cut off financially or break up with you. He didn’t understand, because his parents liked you so much and they loved the influence you had on his work. He didn’t understand. He hated it—the fact that he was basically hanging by puppet strings and didn’t have a say in what he did considering the age he was in now.

He also hated the fact that he knew they had good intentions, and were only doing this because they wanted him to be successful. Their idea of true success for his career could only be seen as the financial benefits of being a director or producer rather than being able to just pursue and learn more about the art form that he loves. There was no use of trying to persuade them, so likewise, he did not. But why get her involved into this mess too?

Jungkook tended to stray away from confrontation and hated immediate and unexpected change as much as he acted like it didn’t phase him. He figured the sooner he can gain benefit from his passion, the less dreadful this dilemma would be. Less mess. Less stress. More time to be with you. That was the intended plan.

His next course of action was to score a film internship and potential job at the rather famous, Fox Studios. By doing so, would have to win the statewide film contest— a much larger scale than he had ever involved himself in. The mere thought of him having to showcase his own self-produced work to critically acclaimed film critics made the bile in his system threaten to upchuck onto the lemon-pledge scented floors of his dorm room. Then he remembered and was reminded— by the help of you of course, that he was Jeon Jungkook, and everyone knows that Jeon Jungkook does not like to lose.

He presumed that keeping up his grades would give him more credibility to getting the internship as well, so he put more focus onto his schoolwork. The remainder of his time was dedicated to exploring his potential ideas and storyboarding out his options and what would be most effective and most consequently— worthy of winning first place.

During this very strenuous time for the poor man, you would most likely see him trudging down the halls, hair in a complete disarray or simply hidden by the fabric of his hood, his eyelids threatening to close shut almost as if it’s taking all his willpower to keep them open, chugging down another red bull with one hand while he grips the strap of his backpack with practically no energy.

I mean you thought it was kinda cute at first, but his apparent deteriorating state mostly caused you to be more concerned than anything else.

In hopes to not hinder his creative flow but still keep his health at par, you would stop by every so often to give him food and give him reassurance—he never needed it so much until now.

Jungkook never told you about the irrational ultimatum his parents had given him. He came to the conclusion that it’d be unnecessary as long as he was able to carry out his plans. Nonetheless, the pressure of the whole situation was getting to him. The love of his life, passion for working with a camera, his parents’ disapproval, and just the own personal dream to be able to tell everyone that “Fuck you, I told you I could do it, and I did,” enveloped his whole mind these days.

Time had proved to not work in Jungkook’s favor. Two weeks passed in a mere blink of an eye leaving him with only two more weeks to finish his film in time for the film contest. This time around, he decided to choose a topic that resonated more with his own personal life. The film revolves around the struggle to be able to conform to the standards and expectations that society implements onto young people, whether it’d be from mainstream media or direct connections, like family. Typically, he stuck a title onto his projects after fully completing it, but for some reason, this time, it had worked in reverse. The title itself suddenly popped into his mind one day and from there he was able to garner ideas from it. And so the title was ‘Moulded’.

A very risky step on Jungkook’s part was what you initially thought when he first told you the idea. He knew that too, which is why he did it. You knew him long enough to be aware of the influence his parents had on his life and their outdated beliefs. You also knew the potential the boy’s zeal could take him, and because of that, all traces of worry left you shortly afterward.

Two days. The film contest was in two days. Jungkook was just about finished at this point, constantly playing back frames and adding final touches, rewatching the same parts over and over again until he became satisfied. He leaned back in his chair and let out a heavy sigh, eyes finally averting from the screen of his desktop to the clock on his bedside table.

“Only 9:15?” he muses, realizing these past four weeks had completely fucked over his sense of time, “At least I’m down, color correcting can be such a bit—”

A small jolt reverberates through his desk, interrupting his verbally spoken train of thought. His eyes beeline back to his phone, the contact picture of his mom flashing on his screen. Why would she be calling me at this time?

His brows knit together as he picks up his phone and swipes his thumb across the screen in uncertainty.

“Um, hi mom?” he greets, with the obvious tone of confusion in his voice.

He can practically hear her scoff over the line, “Jungkook-ah, how’s the film coming along?”

“It’s almost done-”

“Are you still with that girl?” she forcibly asks out of nowhere, leaving him dumbfounded to the point his mouth was hanging open in return.

A few seconds pass by as he processes what’s going on. He tightens his grip on the phone at the mention of you as he confesses through gritted teeth, “Yes mom.”

“We had a deal didn’t we?”

He retorted without waver in his voice, “Mom, I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Then give it back. The tuition money,” she affirms without hesitation, “Jungkook, me and your father have done our part. It’s about time you do yours.”

“I’ve done practically everything you’ve asked. I’m doing just fine,” he monotonously states, trying so hard not to implode on his own mother at this point, “Y/N has nothing to do with this.”

There was a short pause, leaving Jungkook in the same state of dejection per usual when he had to talk to his parents, “We just want you to be successful,” her voice softens, using the same line that somehow magically guilt-trips Jungkook every time the words travel to his ears.

He shakes his head in disbelief over hearing the stupid line that seemed to control every aspect of his life, “You say that every time.”

“And we mean it every time,” she interjects, a sigh audibly present over the line, “this discussion is over.”

She ends the call as Jungkook lets out a raspy and guttural groan, slamming his phone onto his desk in frustration with such strength it’d be surprising if the cheap glass screen protector he’s had on it didn’t suffer any damage.

“Kook,” a voice utters softly from the other side of his door, “is everything okay?”

He flinches at the sound of your voice, considering you were just the subject of the conversation he just had with his mom that left him fuming with rage more than anything.

“Can you please leave Y/N, this isn’t a good time,” he objected, adjusting himself in his seat so he’d face away from the door. Even though you couldn’t see him you could still hear the small indication of irritation in his response.

It was more than apparent something was wrong with him, with only two days left until the film contest, you knew he couldn’t manage to keep his guard down, regardless of the stress and turmoil he’d been putting himself through for the past 4 weeks, “Just because you leave whenever you feel like it…” you enunciate, raising your voice loud enough for him to hear your intentions, “doesn’t mean I will.” Both of you knew the last 4 weeks had taken a toll on the relationship, it was only then that he realized how much he’d been putting it off.

The door began to emit tiny clicking noises as he slowly turned the doorknob. He slowly widens the area as he meekly steps to the side, letting you come in as you make your way toward his bed and plop down onto his sheets.

The tension had never been this thick between the two of you, to the extent where it felt absolutely suffocating and unbearable. You had never seen him in such a state of dejection as he simply sat there, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he nibbled on his lower lip, eyes diverting away from yours at all costs. The knit between his brows that would usually derive from confusion or frustration, seemed entirely different this time around. It was as if his mind was full of nothing but everything all at the same time.

You heave out a deep sigh as you finally break the ice, “Jungkook,” you begin, looking up to see him looking back at you to your surprise, “you know I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry for making it seem that way.”

“Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it,” he mutters only to see the flash of hurt in your eyes that makes him divert his gaze back to the floor, “I know I’ve been acting so selfish lately. I’d understand if you felt that way.”

“I hate seeing you like this you know,” you confess quietly, “I know there’s something up.”

His eyes meet yours once again, mouth slightly parted as if he was about to say something, but the silences ensues and he closes the gap once again, resorting back to nibbling the skin off of his bottom lip until it starts to bleed. Your eyes soften as you observe the boy once more. The span of your relationship had naturally led to the two of you being able to open up to one another so easily. You were both able to tell when the other was feeling a certain way and why. It just came with time and getting to know the other person more throughout the relationship. And alongside that was the ability to know when the other was purposely keeping something under wraps—this was one of those times.

“Jungkook”, you whisper just loud enough to catch his attention, which works as he gazes back up at you with all doe-eyed glory, the knit between his brows gone surprisingly out of sight for the first time since you came over. You glance at his bed—emphasizing the void of space next to you on his bed by patting the fabric and peering at the cryptic man, hoping he would get the sign to sit next to you.

Fortunately, he does. He places his hands on the armrests as he timidly pushes himself up from his chair. The chair produces an obnoxiously loud squeaking noise almost emulating the sound of your dog’s dog shaped squeaky toy (counterintuitive I know, but it was a gift from Jungkook himself, the prick). The sound causes you to involuntarily snort as you look away in hopes to hide the smile creeping onto your lips. Too bad you missed the smug grin on his face at your lackluster attempt.

He carefully approaches you as he warily lowers himself onto his bed, making sure he doesn’t make the same mistake twice. He shifts his body to turn towards you, propping his hands at his side. His eyes avoid yours once more, sparing glances at every inch of his own room as if he wasn’t already familiar with the enclosed space.

You pause and calculate your next move, eyes studying the boy’s body language. You outstretch your arm, gently grasping his wrist as you slide your fingers through his calloused palms and twine your fingers with his own, allowing your hands to rest on your knee. His eyes glaze over your connected hands, trailing back to finally meeting your own once again—they had this all too unfamiliar gloss to them, not the usual star-like specks you had been accustomed to looking at. As a few seconds had passed, you spotted the pool of tears starting to brim in the corner of his eyes. Taken aback, you retract your focus to his whole face and how his bottom lip started to tremble, hopeless. Hopelessness was what he was denoting, an emotion you had rarely if never seen coming from the man sitting in front of you.

Before you could formulate any words of comfort, he speaks up, voice brittle and wobbly, “Am I just a failure Y/N?”

“Wha— what? No, how could you ask that? Of course I don’t think you are,” you assert, unknowingly tightening the grip on his hand.

“It’s just,” he drawls out, pausing to think of a coherent way to voice his concerns, “maybe it just would’ve been easier if I complied with my parents in the first place y’know. I’ve been spending all my time and energy fighting it, maybe I’ve just been putting my energy into the wrong-”

“I don’t believe that,” you calmly interject, “I believe that whenever you put your energy into something, you have a reason behind it. You thought about it for a while, it obviously wasn’t something that just sprouted overnight,” you countered, staring off as your eyes land on his workspace, the flashing screen of his computer that reveal his last minute editing as well as the camera you seldom see the man without, “Working with a camera, creating art,” you say while clasping your free hand over the one that you were already holding, rubbing miscellaneous shapes into the back of his hand, “that is what you love to do.”

“I love a lot of things Y/N,” he simply states.

“Hm?” you let out under your breath as you notice the single tear that falls onto his cheek, contradictory to the straightforward tone of his voice you had just heard seconds before. Your body stiffened at the sight of the fallen drop.

“Did you hear me on the phone before you came?” he questions, swiping away the tears that threatened to fall with his free hand.

You take a moment to recollect the moments that preceded until knocking on his door, “No, I just heard a loud bang. It sounded like you broke something.”

“Oh, that was my phone,” he shyly admits while scratching the back of his ear, “there is something I need to tell you.”

You perk up at his sudden willingness to tell you what was wrong. Your body language conveys the signal for him to continue, and he does.

“I got a call from my mom before you came,” he starts, “she was checking up on me, knowing the deadline is coming soon and what not.”

You nod slowly in understanding, “I see, what did she say?”

“You have the right to know,” he mutters under his breath while diverting his gaze back to your interlocked hands. He intentionally grazes your other hand before taking it into his own before flashing you a small grin of reassurance, “The farther I’m advancing, my parents just constantly feel the need to strip me of everything else. You probably knew that already. You also know that I tend to just rebel and find a loophole out of things most of the time. I don’t know, lately, it just seems like they solely care about success and money these days more than my own happiness and wellbeing, and it’s been like that for so long. Anyways, I’ve been prolonging and putting it aside for awhile now, but they threatened to cut me off financially if I didn’t break up with you Y/N.”

A single tear slides down your cheek. You’re at a loss for words and coherent thought. The only thing you muster to say is whatever decidedly popped up into your head first, “W-why haven’t you then?”

The brimming tears began to fall more frequently for you as well as from the eyes of the man in front of you. He releases both of his hands and slides his calloused palms up to your forearms pulling you closer in proximity, “I said it before, I love a lot of things Y/N,” he gingerly reiterates as he swipes away the tears from your eyes with the pad of his thumb before trailing his fingers to your fallen strands of hair, tucking them behind your ear.

“I love my parents, I love working with a camera, but I undoubtedly also am in love with you,” he tenderly professes while sliding down his hand to the crook of your neck, “I know my parents never meant harm, but they have to realize I don’t either. I owe it to myself and I realize that I am capable of obtaining and having everything I want in life,” he wholeheartedly declares despite the tears that continue to run down his face, “ And it wouldn’t be everything I want if you weren’t here with me.”

He renders you speechless, tears streaming freely as he continues to wipe them away. He was much more composed now, wiping away his own remaining tears with the back of his wrist. You, on the other hand, were practically sobbing into his palm, tears spilling all over his forearm.

“There’s a reason why I chose that particular subject for the film, “ he describes, hands sliding down to intertwine with yours once again, “It serves as a testament to my parents, to my peers, to you, but also to myself,” he beams, releasing the hold on your hands as he stands up from his bed, extending a hand out to you.

You unhurriedly grab his hand, as he tugs you to stand up from his bed, leading you to sit in his own seat. He swivels the chair for it to face his computer, stepping aside so you could sit down.

“I wasn’t planning on giving any sneak peeks, but it just seems right to show you this now,” he explains, clicking through the frames until he arrives at his destination and clicks play.

It starts off with the emulation of a glitching tv screen, the audio sounds as if someone was inserting a tape into a DVR. The ‘no signal’ screen fades into the familiar setting of the beach in his hometown. Hues of blue fading into muted shades of oranges and yellows flash across the screen, accompanied by the soft crashing of the waves washing ashore on the fine sand. The camera quickly shifts his focus to what seems to appear as Jungkook being fully enveloped and underneath the sand, his head being the only thing that isn’t submerged. Flashing his signature grin, his arm emerges from the sand as he gives a thumbs-up to the camera, making the person behind it erupt into a fit of giggles. That person was you.

The scene transitions into the city streets of the suburb that was close to the college. You were walking down the sidewalk, enamored by the bustle of the people who lived there as well as the twinkling lights that were draped from building to building. Clips ranging from his family, his friends, him working, and more are compiled and presented as he talks over it. His voice begins to say, “As individuals living in a society where opportunities seem to just be knocking left and right, we all have dreams and desires. Whether they are attainable or not, that’s what makes them all the more worthwhile and exhilarating to find out for ourselves. Society, whether we like it or not, is filled with certain conjectures that they believe can assure us of these dreams and desires, what they’ve made us believe as the path to success. They mould us from the beginning. As kids, we are told to behave well, listen to our elders, go to school, get good grades, and get into a good college. As adults, we deem success as having a stable job that pays the bills, buying a house and settling down, finding the love of your life, having kids, and working tirelessly until we become worn out and old. We have these presumptions about what’s better and what’s not, what is easier and what isn’t. Regardless of how much we get told that we can achieve anything we want to in life, we grow older and life unexpectedly throws more curveballs at you to make you think that it’s not actually the case. Well, as cliche as it may sound, I’m here to tell you that it’s just not true. Do what you want. Do what you love. Be with the ones you love. Cherish these moments. Film them as keepsakes to look back on. So… what’s your story? What are your dreams and desires? What sparks pure joy within you and keeps you on your feet? Break those moulds that have been holding you down. Reach for the moon and the stars. And maybe someday with the right amount of determination, and a little bit of luck, you can get there.”

The video ends right then and there, and you had no doubt in your mind that this was his best work to date albeit only seeing a snippet of it. A smile graces your lips as you turn your head to look at the creator of it all. He looks back at you with the familiar star-like specks in his eyes, making you feel rest assured that within all the chaos, you would both get through it all.

MASTERLIST

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madeofitzits · 5 years

Text

In honor of the impending return of Brooklyn 99, here are 99 reasons that...

1. He was precocious enough to know, at 5 years old, that he wanted to change his name (x)

2. He has a bunch of nicknames: Sandy Amberg, Young Sandwich, etc. but the most endearing one is 'Droidy', his family's name for him (x)

3. He is still super close friends with people he's known since: Elementary School (Chelsea Peretti) (x)...

4. Junior High/High School (Kiv and Jorm) (x)

5. … Summer Camp (Irene Neuwirth) (x)

7. ...and Film School (Chester Tam) (x)

8. Before he met Joanna, he dated other famous ladies but - out of respect - he never discussed it/them (x)

9. He loves turtles and tortoises. When he was a kid, he had a pet turtle that he named 'Squirt' because the first time he held it, it peed on him. His Mom, Margie, accidentally killed Squirt when Andy was at Summer camp... (x)

10. … Maybe this is why, when shooting 'Popstar', Andy fell hard for Maximus (Conner 4 Real's turtle). He says they "had a good thing going" and that he wanted to adopt him. In the end, he decided against it because there are a bunch of coyotes in his neighborhood and he was worried the little guy wouldn't be safe. (Popstar: DVD Commentary)

11. Speaking of his Mom, despite being a super private person, he appeared on 'Finding your Roots' so that he could help her track down her birth family (x)

12. When he succeeded he cried (although we never got to see it on camera) (x)

13. That's because, like all good boys, he loves his Mama which is why - as part of the same episode - he said "My mom is basically the kindest person I know… and many people would corroborate that" (x)

14. Andy's Sisters, Hannie (Johanna) and Darrow, used to make him wear diapers and put his hair in pigtails until he was 5 years old. He says he didn't mind because he just liked that they were paying attention to him (x)

15. That's why he sees his identity in comedy as being 'America's kid brother'. When he was young, he would annoy his sisters until they laughed and he claims to have been replicating that approach to entertainment ever since

16. Although a bunch of his characters have 'Daddy Issues', Andy definitely doesn't. He's super close with his Papa (Joe) and has said "he's a good man" and "the best Dad in the world" (x)

17. Joe was Andy's youth soccer coach and in one scene in 'Hot Rod', Joe's favorite photograph can be seen in the background. It shows a very young Andy posing with a soccer ball, after "scoring the winning goal against Mersey" (x)

18. He's been a loyal Golden State Warriors fan since he was a little kid, living in Oakland (then Berkeley) and, in 2010, he correctly predicted that they would "win a Championship in my lifetime" (x)

19. The proceeds from his Umami Burger ('The Samburger') went to a deafness early detection program in Berkeley. This cause is close to his heart because Margie uses hearing aids and used to work in the special needs program, teaching deaf kids (x)

20. He, Kiv, and Jorm have made multiple donations to their old school district, including $250 000 to its theater program (x)

21. On the subject of The Lonely Island; Andy always goes out of his way to make sure that everyone knows how much he owes to his buddies. For instance, he told Marc Maron, during his WTF appearance, that "I get a lot of credit for what Kiv and Jorm have done" (x)

22. He makes this face when he knows he’s said something naughty…

(Gif credit: @andrewsambags)

23. During his 'Wild Horses' appearance, he said that he can't watch scary movies because they freak him out too much. He told 'Complex' that he's still scared of 'The Shining' (x)...

24. … Similarly, when he was at UC Santa Cruz he worked at the Del Mar movie theater and he had a hard time coping with screenings of 'Species 2' (x)

25. He fell in love with Joanna, the moment he met her, when she greeted him by addressing him as 'Steve the C**t' (x)

26. He listened to 'Ys', everyday for a year, before he and Joanna started dating (x)

27. He bought the original portrait that was used as the basis of the cover art for 'Ys' and gave it to Joanna as a Christmas present, so that she could hang it in her music room (x)

28. He loves birds and goes hiking and birding with Joanna (x)

29. Every new comment he makes about Joanna becomes an instant contender for 'most beautiful thing a person has ever said about their spouse' (x)

30. For example, he readily admits that Jake's iconic heart eyes are the result of him thinking about his amazing wife (x)

31. There are many stories about how incredibly romantic Andy and Joanna's wedding was and Jorm has said that it featured "the most magical vows I've ever heard" (x)

32. The Newsombergs now live in Charlie Chaplin's old house (x)

33. On the Emmys Red Carpet (2015), the year he hosted, they took a momentary break from posing for the world's press to whisper 'I love you' to each other (x)

34. At last year's Vanity Fair party, Andy carried Joanna's purse for her so she could grab a snack (x)

35. He was a semi-permanent fixture in the audience for her recent run of shows for the 'Strings/Keys Incident' tour, even officially confirming his status as the 'President of her Fan Club' (x)

36. He used his Golden Globes monologue to call out the government for framing and murdering the Black Panthers (x)

37. On the Carpet for the Guy's Choice Awards, he called the event "a ridiculous farce", adding that "men already have it so easy - it's insane that there's a show that celebrates them". That makes sense when you consider that he, Kiv and Jorm have made an entire career out of parodying toxic masculinity (x)

38. He once said that only "idiot-ass men" think that women aren't funny (x)

39. He’s been wearing glasses since 7th Grade and he has the most heartbreakingly cute habit of nudging them up his nose, (especially when he wears his Sol Moscot frames) (x)...

40. ... and of rubbing his eyes under them (x)

41. He barely ever wears glasses for roles but he also avoids contacts (because he doesn't like touching his eyeballs) which means he's almost always 'acting blind' (x)

42. He has worn his glasses in character a few times - as 'himself' ('Lady Dynamite'), as 'Paul' ('I Think You Should Leave') and during a very small number of SNL sketches (e.g. during his one appearance in a 'Gilly' with Kristen Wiig) (x)

43. He can't tolerate glare and when that makes him squint it's a sight that's too cute for words (x)

44. He owns about six outfits and has been rotating them for well over a decade (x)

45. He barely ever breaks during shooting/while performing, so when he does it's aggressively adorable. (x), (x)

46. He's a grown ass man who persuades people to come with him to the bathroom because if he goes by himself he'll get lonely (x)

47. He didn't announce he was leaving SNL, until after his last appearance, selflessly choosing not to detract from Kirsten Wiig's huge and emotional send-off (x)

48. He undertook a quest to smell like Lorne Michaels (x)

49. He's ageing like a fine wine (x)

50. To protect their daughter's privacy, Andy and Joanna never announced that they were expecting. They've never released their little girl's name or date of birth and most news outlets still report that they became parents in August 2017 (even though that's inaccurate) (x)

51. Although he's careful not to talk about his daughter often, sometimes he can't keep from gushing about her. For example, when asked about his first year of fatherhood he said: "It’s been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Just like a beautiful, incredible dream. It has surpassed every expectation I ever had. It’s definitely been very blissful" (x)

52. After their daughter was born, Andy and Joanna spent the first 40 days at home with her (in a practice known as 'confinement'). He's described it as being "a really special time". (x)

53. Andy is famously mild-mannered but, when asked about what triggers his 'Dad claws', he admitted that if anyone attempted to touch his daughter, without permission, he'd "probably sock them hard in the face"…

54. ...Characteristically, he went on to add that he hopes that never happens, since he hasn't been in a fight since 6th Grade (x)

55. Cyndi Lauper was his first celebrity crush and he plays her record ('She's so unusual') for his daughter all the time. (x)

56. His is the very definition of a precious laugh (x)...

57. It's made even more wonderful by the way it makes his voice go high-pitched (x)

58. … and the way it causes his eyebrow to rise involuntarily

59. It's impossible not to smile at his impression of his Mom (x)

60. And laugh at his impression of John Mulaney (x)

61. He was so convinced he wouldn't win the Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Comedy or Musical, that he didn't prepare a speech. Instead, as he explained to David Letterman, he "just went… and started drinking". The resulting list of improvised 'thank yous' was perfect in every way (x)

62. As producers, Andy, Kiv and Jorm have given life to some amazing projects ('Alone Together', 'Brigsby Bear', 'I Think You Should Leave')...

63. … and gone out of their way to support women in comedy ('Party Over Here', 'PEN15') (x)

64. As well as being a comedy legend, he's a super-talented dramatic actor, who gave the performance of a lifetime in 'Celeste and Jesse Forever' but, after the movie wrapped, and it was time to do press for it, he was straight back to goofing around (x)

65. His lip bite should be illegal (x)

66. Even though he wears the same vanishingly small number of outfits, over and over, he has a vast collection of the most excellent socks (x)

67. He always gives 'editing notes' during his own interviews (x)

68. He has a super sweet and sincere way of thanking interviewers when they compliment him (x)

69. He adjusts his hoodie constantly (x)

70. The two most perfect Jake laughs in b99 are actually real Andy laughs 'https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=W38A_xuXaeg https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=sVm9nYrTWRQ

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71. Virtually everyone who has ever worked with Andy has talked about what a wonderful person he is. This explains why so many of them have been involved with more than one of his projects (x)

72. It's not only his colleagues who talk about what a delight he is (x), (x)

73. This lovestruck fool wore his own wife's merch when he went out to dinner (x)

74. No one else uses the word 'dinky' quite like Andy (x). The same goes for 'snacky' (see point 70)

75. He does this with his tongue (x)

76. He still likes to play soccer but his eyesight is so bad that he has to keep his glasses on for it

77. When he lets his gorgeous floofy hair grow a little it sits perfectly over the arms of his glasses (x)

78. He gifted the world with Jakey's little curl (x)

79. At the James Franco Roast, he couldn't bring himself to be mean to anyone except himself (and Jeff Ross, a little!) (x)

80. In fact, he's always been willing to laugh at himself (x) and he still is (x)

81. He changes b99 scripts to make them more feminist (x)

82. Despite their humble insistence that they just benefited from 'good timing', the reality is that Andy, Kiv and Jorm (along with Chris Parnell) revolutionized digital media, when 'Lazy Sunday' popularized YouTube, increasing its traffic by 85% overnight (x)

83. He once attended the Vanity Fair party because his Mom told him to (x)

84. He has an amazing way of subtly but firmly shutting down inappropriate questions, like when this interviewer suggested that Holt being gay was something that could have been played for laughs https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=idQsYQfkR5o

85. He auditioned for SNL at the same time as Bill Hader. Hader thought he'd blown it because Andy had a bunch of props and Bill had none. In the meantime, Andy thought he'd blown it when he saw Hader and realized 'this guy doesn't need any props' (x)

86. His bromance with Seth Meyers is one for the ages (x)

87. Every single second of this video is proof of why Andy, Kiv and Jorm deserve the world (x)

88. He once dragged Mulaney up on stage for SNL Goodnights, even though writers weren't allowed to join in (x)

89. He has a hilarious phobia of pooping anywhere except his own bathroom (x)

90. His beautiful, beautiful, face: His smile (radiant), his eyes (caramel - hella disarming), his ears (adorably asymmetrical), his nose (perfect), His chin (the dimple… *swoon*), his jaw (could cut glass), The 'Sambeard' (another amazing layer of pretty) (x)

91. His body: His butt (x), his thighs, (x) his soft lil tummy (The ‘Sambelly’) (x), his hands. (x), his arms (x), his hips…

(Gif credit: @amystiago /@badpostandy on Twitter)

92. All signs point to the fact that, like Jake, Andy uses his glasses case as a wallet (x)

93. Jake's "cool-cool-cool-cool-cool-cool" is an irl Andy-ism that the writers worked into b99 scripts. What's even better is that Joanna does it, too (x)

94. He has a really good arm and is low key competitive, which is super hot https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=e32K_nBDy3Q

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95. He's one half of the cutest Red Carpet pose of all time (x)

96. He barely ever seems to get mad but if angry Jake is anything to go by, maybe he should... (x)

97. He's a huge nerd, who geeks out over GOT, LOTR, 'Star Wars', 'Alien(s)' and anything relating to time travel (x), (x)

98. He has a gorgeous speaking voice, especially when he’s tired or a little sick. (Bonus points for any time he uses the word ‘correct’. See point 30) (x)

99. He’s still so committed to his b99 fans and fam, even after all this time and is as excited as the rest of us that...

#99 reasons to love #andy samberg #brooklyn nine nine #b99 #a masterpost for the best boy there is

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mythgirlimagines · 3 years

Photo

Time for a brand new talentswap for this fine Tuesday! Give a warm wink and a smile to Myth, the Former Ultimate Animator!

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BACKSTORY AND TALENT

As a youngster, Myth‘s imagination and energy was all over the place. A combination of regular consumption of books, movies, and TV, and living in a rather creative household herself, made this Myth want to bring her odd creations into the human world. Ever since she entered her first ever short animation into a prestigious film festival for preteens, she has been on a roll ever since, with romantic and fantasy anime being her main bread and butter. Her most well-known work yet is “Up in Smoke”, a Romeo and Juliet-esque animated film chronicling the romantic escapades of a two female elemental spirits, a water and fire spirit, and the rebellion against their strict family. It earned raving reviews from critics for its adorable artstyle, its loveable characters, and its heartwarming portrayal of LGBT dynamics. In fact, most of her works have at least one LGBT character, or at least have some form of LGBT subtext. She may not have a lot of human friends apart from Wyre, but she has the support of both her friends and her massive fanbase. Even as a adult, she still has it going in the animation department.

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RELATIONSHIPS

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Animal Breeder

Due to her wild and rowdy appearance and personality, Wyre never really had many human friends, but they compensate for this with a whole arkload of animal friends, with lizards, snakes and other reptiles being her main speciality. Myth and Wyre met as children, and quickly bonded with each other over their eccentric behaviour and lack of human friends. In fact, Wyre was the one who gave Myth the eared hat and tail that Myth regularly wears. Wyre regularly brings in live animals as a drawing reference, so Myth would learn how to properly animate animal movement.

Outfit: Same outfit as the original, but with a cat design on the skirt, a brown fox ear headband, and a matching brown prop tail.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Princess

As the princess of a small European country called Zunduros, Scar is the current heiress to the Zundorian throne. Myth was surprised to learn that her animated shows have quite the following in Scar’s kingdom. Despite constantly carrying herself as the “Heiress of the Untouched Shadow”, the facade quickly breaks away to reveal a heavily-concerned and somewhat maternal girl, once she realises that this entertainment giant doesn’t exactly have the healthiest living habits. Nowadays, Scar is always on standby, making sure that Myth gets her daily food and rest.

Outfit: A black Gothic Lolita-style dress, with white lace and red bows on the front, dark red stockings, red heels, red gloves, a red rose holding up her side bun.

Fusion Anon, Ultimate Musician

As the lead singer of the soft rock band, “QUIZ BOWL”, Fusion’s songs mainly center around family and parental love. Fusion’s personality matches the subject matter of his songs, being paternal and kind-hearted, despite what his height and wild fashion would suggest. Imagine Myth’s shock when this 6’3 tall boy with a large afro dyed various colors and a leather jacket claimed to be a massive fan of her adorable animated films. Ever since Myth found out and gave him an autographed art book, Fusion has been in special interest heaven. Nowadays, Fusion helps compose music for Myth’s animated films.

Outfit: A large afro dyed various colors, a black leather jacket with an autistic pride badge on the front over a red t-shirt, black leather gloves, ripped black pants, black boots, a guitar case strapped to his back, color contacts.

Fusion Anon II, Ultimate Photographer

As the girl behind the famous photography blog ,“bustasnap”, Fusion II has traveled all over the world to take pictures of all the scenic landscapes she can find. Upon looking at Fusion II’s photos, Myth knew that she had to use them for background references. This has led to the mysterious disappearance of many of Fusion II’s printed Polaroids. Upon finding out that Myth was the one behind the theft of her pictures, Fusion II chose to print the pictures and hand the copies to Myth. From there, Myth learned that Fusion II is a kind girl underneath her sarcastic and flippant demeanour.

Outfit: Same outfit as her original design, but with her prized Polaroid strapped to her right side.

Just Anon, Ultimate Gamer

Dominating popular MMORPG after popular MMORPG under the name, “anon.”, Janon spends all of his time laying down and not moving from his territory. Despite Janon’s adorable appearance and fashion sense, Janon is foul-mouthed, cynical, and hates just about everybody in this goddamn con. Well, almost everybody. He has a massive soft spot for the two Jr. Ultimates of the convention. Janon and Myth like to organize little slumber parties and nap underneath a large pile of blankets, pillows and stuffed toys, where certain bothersome Anons wouldn’t bother them.

Outfit: A Pikachu hoodie, black headphones with the Overwatch logo on each ear, formal wear and face-mask from original design.

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Traditional Dancer

Coming from a long and prestigious line of traditional dancers, Sparkle’s dancing is truly a spectacle to witness on stage. Spicing up her dance moves with glitter and sakura petals, Sparkle’s moves look like they’re straight from a high-budget fantasy movie. Topping off her stellar appearance is a loud and bombastic attitude that truly shines on stage. Just like with Fusion, Sparkle is also a major fan of Myth’s works, particularly her magical girl series. Myth regularly watches Sparkle perform in order to help with animating dancing and the movement of her characters.

Outfit: An orange kimono with pink flower designs all over it, a purple obi, white socks, brown gets sandals, a sidetail decorated with flowers, glasses from original design.

Egg Anon, Former Ultimate Lucky Student, and Wet Sock, Former Ultimate Yakuza

Originally the twin children to one of the biggest underground yakuza chains in the world, Egg has since been cast out of the bloodline for their unpredictable luck cycle managed to nearly doom their entire bloodline, and it’s only through Wet Sock‘s control that the entire bloodline didn’t go kaput. Upon hearing about Egg and Wet Sock’s backstory, Myth thought that this would make a good premise for a film. Needless to say, despite their cursed and violent concepts, Myth managed to look past them, to find deeply disturbed individuals that just need a hug.

Egg’s Outfit: A bandaged left eye, a half-shaved haircut, the same same clothes from their original design, but with a clover design replacing the bird designs.

Wet Sock’s Outfit: An eyepatch on their right eye, a half-shaved haircut, a black suit just like Fuyuhiko’s.

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Nurse

As the adopted child of a hospital worker, Curious ended up learning everything that they can about the medical field and the human body. Curious has became famous and beloved at the hospital for their kind-hearted and levelheaded personality, as well as their excellent bedside vigil. Because of Myth’s constant neglect of food and sleep, Curious is constantly on standby to make sure that Myth gets the proper amount of nutrition needed to function as a proper human being. Myth may not need Curious constantly hovering over her, but she appreciates Curi’s concern for her.

Outfit: Part of their hair tied into a small ponytail, a mint green face mask, same outfit from original design, but with a white apron with a red cross design on the front, and mint green scrubs.

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Mechanic

Famous for his uncontrollable temper and strength, as well as his equal caliber intelligence, Anon Nerd is known for making functional machines out of literal garbage. Unfortunately, Nerd’s entire attitude doesn’t exactly make him a massive hit with other people at his mechanics store. Despite Nerd’s own workaholic tendencies, Myth just makes Nerd so angry with her blatant disregard for her own health. Nerd regularly tries to get this adorable animator to get her eyes off her drawing tablet and just go to sleep, even if it means knocking her out with a wrench.

Outfit: Ruffled-up hair, grease stains all over his body, a black and yellow jumpsuit, black and yellow boots and gloves, scouter from original design.

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Team Manager

Despite Eldritch‘s jittery and paranoid behavior in public, Eldritch is unbelievably confident when it comes to leading a group. Eldritch is the number one trainer in “Fort Ritchie‘s Boot Camp”, a training center that trains children to take on the inevitable zombie apocalypse. Ignoring the whole “apocalypse” pretense, Eldritch is really good at motivating individuals to take action. Upon witnessing Myth’s poor health, Eldritch has taken it upon himself to prevent Myth from becoming zombie bait, but Myth really doesn’t want to exercise, and seems content with being zombie chow.

Dream Anon, Ultimate Chef

As the daughter of a professional TV chef, Dream can cook healthy meals to feed all her teammates on her volleyball team. Dream is famous for being just a big bundle of joy and sunshine, as well as her energetic and overzealous attitude when it comes to cooking. Dream has taken upon herself to cook Myth only the best of meals, in order to make Myth actually drop her work to go eat with all the others. Don’t get Dream wrong, she does enjoy a lot of Myth’s works, particularly her shonen works. But would it kill Myth to eat something with actual nutritional value?

Outfit: A white chef uniform, a pink bandana tied over her head, a pink ascot, shoes from original design.

Iris Anon, Reserve Course Student

When you first meet up with Iris, the first thing you would notice about her is her insane clumsiness and her almost stupidly optimistic viewpoint. Despite first impressions, Iris actually managed to get into Hope’s Peak Middle School’s reserve course on academic prowess alone, which makes her a veritable genius. Despite not even having an actual talent, Iris doesn’t let that, or the horrible quality of the Reserve Course get her down. Iris watched a bunch of Myth’s anime with her girlfriend, and she is currently overjoyed to be spending the con visit with the girl behind all those masterpieces.

Outfit: A white dress shirt, a red bowtie, a dark blue skirt, white knee-length socks, black slip-on shoes, bandages on her arms and legs, glasses, star clip, and braids from original design.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Swordswoman

As the daughter of an ancient lineage of sword fighters, Purple has been taught the art of the blade by her elders, and yet she manages to surpass them all in blade-to-blade combat. Purple is hardly ever seen without her trusty claymore strapped to her back. Despite what her talent would suggest, Purple is very timid and cowardly, thanks to her sheltered upbringing. Because of her sheltered and old-fashioned upbringing, Purple also speaks in very antiquated vocabulary that is hard to understand. Myth may not understand a word that Purple is saying, but Purple would make a great fantasy protagonist.

Outfit: A black headband, gakuran top, a long purple skirt, lilac stockings, black slip-on shoes, a purple scabbard on her back that holds her claymore.

This series centers around this adorable animator who is unhealthily attached to her work, as the people around her show massive concern for both her and her health.

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PERSONALITY

Ever since she was a child, Animator!Myth has always been into the arts and a very creative soul. Her imagination is all over the place, which helps her with her works. Aside from that, Animator!Myth is also kind-hearted and happy to lend a helping hand to people who needs it. Unfortunately, Animator!Myth has a little bit gaping flaw in her personality: she is a MASSIVE workaholic. Not wanting to let down her loyal fanbase, Animator!Myth works day and night on her animated works, much to the understandable concern of her family and friends. This unfortunately means she goes for days on end without stopping for a snack or nap break, making this already childish and loopy girl somehow even more childish and loopy. Her friends are trying their best to teach Myth that overexerting yourself is no good, and taking constant breaks is the key to success.

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APPEARANCE

Animator!Myth is bespectacled and slightly chubby. Myth‘s undyed hair goes down to her shoulders. As for her clothes, on her head, Myth wears a fuzzy blue hat with ears, an ahoge, and brown stripes. Myth wears an oversized blue jacket with yellow details, that holds an animator’s tablet in one of the pockets, over a pink shirt. She also wears a red skirt, black stockings, and yellow rainboots with a paw print design on the bottom. Clipped to the bottom of her skirt is a tail that matches the hat she wears. ——————————————————-

Well, now that I have finished this week’s talentswap, let me know what you think! In the meantime, have fun and be merry!

-Fusion Anon

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It would be so awesome to be an animator! I love this talentswap!

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gale-gentlepenguin · 5 years

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ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 11

(Master post)

Before you start, I want to thank all of you so much for the amazing fan art. I never thought I would see so many versions of Marinette’s outfit. Also, your comments and support have really made writing this a delight.

Okay now for part 11.

_______________________________________________________________________

The ladybloger was relaxing in her room. She was looking at her laptop and was thinking of what to do? Adrien’s interview didn't start for another half an hour, nothing new regarding Ladybug and Chat noir, and she had zero motivation in tackling her homework. She was considering messaging her boyfriend and seeing if he wanted to play some ‘Super penguino’, he would likely say yes. Just as she picked up her phone, she remembered that thing Marinette sent her.

“Oh yea, what was this about.” She said aloud as she looked at the audio recording. “Jeez, its like a forty minute recording. What did she do an interview?”

Alya shrugged, ‘super penguino’ can wait. She pressed play and began listening to the recording.

_______________________________________________________________________

“And We. Are. Live! Welcome my lovely listeners! I am Sonny Potins and you are watching ‘Scoops and Scandal’, the show that brings up the scoops and scandals with your favorite Celebs.” The enthusiastic wavy blonde haired host exclaimed. She was in her mid twenties and was wearing plenty of make up. “And today we have a very special guest, you have seen his ads all over Paris, the young model who is the face of the Gabriel brand, the one and only, Adrien Agreste.”

The spot light shined on Adrien as he approached the stage to his seat with the audio from the cologne ad playing in the background. The studio audience cheered as the model walked with a cool yet approachable attitude. A bunch of them screaming ‘I love you’ ‘Adrien!’ ‘You are amazing’. Adrien smiled and waved at the audience.

Sonny was sitting in a comfy leather chair across from Adrien, who was sitting in an identical chair. She was sitting on the left, and her was sitting on the right. A table with two water bottle and two microphones stood between them. The chairs were angled to help the two face each other while also face the cameras and the audience. Above them was a jumbo screen that would show clips, info, and whatever the people in charge wanted to show. Usually fan submitted questions, photos or live cam.

“I am happy to be here.” Adrien greeted the audience.

“I am sure all of Paris would love to hear all about you. So lets get the ball rolling.”

Back stage, Marinette watched out of view, she looked to see Adrien notice her and give her a quick wink before looking back at the host. Marinette smiled at his sudden wink, doing her best to stay calm.

“Seems like everything is going well.” A voice whispered from Marinette’s jacket.

“Yea, I can't believe Adrien found out about the scarf. I thought he would be sad about finding out the gift wasn't from his father.” Marinette whispered.

“Seems like he is happy to have someone who cares about his feelings. You both seem to be really connecting.” Tikki assured. “I think he doesn't see you as a just a friend anymore.”

“You think?” Marinette questioned with hope in her voice.

“Call it a hunch, but in the mean time, we should probably listen in. Maybe you can learn more about him through this interview.”

“I am pretty sure it won't reveal anything new, most of these interviews are just for publicity, repeating questions that were asked in the past. But I am glad Adrien is getting the screen time he deserves. He is really great.” Marinette responded. “Though I am not opposed to watching at all.”

Tikki rolled her eyes and smiled at her chosen. Marinette sure was helpless when it came to Adrien, but the same could be said about Chat noir around Ladybug. How the red bug Kwami wanted to reveal this tid bit of information to Marinette. But she said she wouldn't and the time will come one day.

_______________________________________________________________________

“And I was right about his favorite color!” One of the four girls squeaked.

“We all got that question! I expect nothing less from the Adriknights.” Adrienne answered with pride.

Lila was sitting to the side of the couch as she watched these four fangirls gush at every word that Adrien said, it was nauseating. The interview was so by the book it was boring, combine that fact with annoying fans and it only gets worse. The brunette had begun contemplating the pros and cons of a lobotomy by plastic spoon, but she knew she would have to endure.

Adrienne was the perfect person to set up to be akumatized, she needed to wait for something to make her upset, anything that would bring potential negative emotions to draw an akuma here. But this interview was practically kid stuff. But then something caught her attention. Lila tuned back into the tv to listen to a particularly interesting thread the host was spinning.

_______________________________________________________________________

“...but yes I am allergic to feathers, but as long as I am not wearing them or I breath near them, I don't sneeze.” Adrien answered.

“Adrien, you are quite an enigma in this city. a young teen that is one of the most well known faces in Paris, a voice actor, and has his own line of cologne, which is just getting an international release.” Sonny exclaimed. The crowd cheered as the jumbo screen showed a picture of the Ad. “Yet you are one of the sweetest people I ever had the pleasure of interviewing. Most stars around your age are... well they are spoiled brats to put it mildly. What helps you stay so kind and keeps you grounded?”

The crowd was quiet as they waited for Adrien’s answer.

“Well I am lucky enough to be surrounded by talented people. My Best buddy Nino is an up and coming DJ, his girlfriend Alya runs the Ladyblog, my fencing Team mate Kagami comes from a legacy of proud fencers, and Marinette is a fashion designer that has designed works that the fashion critic Audrey Borgeois and My father have both approved of. The latter of which I can tell you personally is no small feat.” Adrien started off.

“Then of course the fact that we live in a city full of superheroes. Nothing is more awe inspiring and humbling then seeing Ladybug save Paris. She is just so incredible. It is reassuring knowing that she is watching over Paris. She is really Miraculous” Adrien slightly gushed before bringing it back. “Those are just some of the amazing people I know and know off, its easy to remember to stay humble when you are surrounded by wonderful people.”

The crowd awed at the cute statement. They were eating up his words.

“Talented indeed. You are quite the fan of Ladybug. If I remember correctly she has saved you a few time. Should Chat noir be worried if you have a crush on the spotted heroine?” Sonny teased.

The blond blushed, but didn't let himself get flustered.

“I am sure Chat noir wouldn't hold it against me. I am pretty sure everyone in Paris has a little crush on Ladybug.” Adrien deflected. “It would be easier to make a list of people who didn't like Ladybug.”

The crowd clapped in agreement, Ladybug was a well respected hero and the Blond made an excellent point. Marinette smiled at the little display, the blond was able to easily handle everything the host was throwing at him. She also was a little happy to hear that Adrien was a fan.

“Truer words have never been spoken. Though speaking of the cat hero, he happens to be a handsome blond hero with a certain flare, are you actually chat noir?” Sonny prodded. “Because that is a popular theory going around.

Adrien for a split second felt a tingle of fear in the back of his spine, but thankfully he knew the host was playing with him. So he laughed it off.

“Secrets out, Thats why I was cast to voice him in the movie.” Adrien remarked with a clearly joking tone.

The crowd laughed along with the blond.

“If that were the case, my father would have a trademark on all of the Chat noir merchandise in Paris.” Adrien answered.

“I heard your father is pretty protective of your image. Is it true that people can't take any pictures of you without you or your father’s consent without being fined?”

“Pictures are fine as long as they don't try to make merchandise of me or use it for financial gain like in magazines, media and tabloids. Thats when people get sued. Thats why there aren't that many paparazzi that hang out by the Agreste manor, they couldn't handle the lawsuits.” Adrien explained. “Not exactly easy to do, my father spent a fortune doing that, but considering the industry he was in, he more then made back his money.”

Marinette blinked.

That explained why he was never hounded at school by photographers. Though that didn't really stop the fans when that ad first came out.

“Fascinating, Your father must be pretty protective over you?”

“Its his way of showing he cares.” Adrien answered. He managed to maintain a smile despite how irritated he was over how protective and controlling his father is.

“So that means having permission to bring a guest to any of your events must be a hardsell.” Sonny continued prodding.

“He is easing up a bit more ever since he said I could go to school. I can sometimes bring friends along to events, like fashions shows and photoshoots.” Adrien assured. “I was even able to bring a guest to this interview.”

Sonny nodded.

“Oh, yes. I believe I bumped into her when you both showed up. I believe her name was Marinette. She was the designer you mentioned earlier.” Sonny smiled.

“Thats right. Marinette is pretty great. I am glad she was able to come along.” Adrien responded.

Marinette smiling brightly at the comment, he was happy she was there.

Sonny smirked, she had found a way to kick this interview up a notch.

“Hey can we get a view of Adrien’s cute guest? I remember her wearing this amazing outfit and I think the audience will love to meet her.” Sonny asked.

“Wait I think she should have a say before...” Adrien tried to interject but sure enough the big screen revealed a camera showing up behind Marinette.

“Say hi sweetie, you are on the air.” Sonny called out.

The bluish-black haired designer turned around and noticed the camera. She nervously waved, unsure of what to do.

“H-hi sweetie.” Marinette parroted nervously. She wish she was better prepared for this. Granted it wasn't the first time a camera caught her off guard, she still remembers when the cameras following Jagged stone went into her room. That was a real nightmare, this might be a close second.

The crowd was cheering as they saw Marinette on the screen. One person in the audience yelling ‘Damn she cute!’ but no one knew where.

“Oh wow, she is cute.” Sonny commented. “I need to find out where she got that outfit, it is incredible.”

“She made it herself. That is just one of her designs.” Adrien answered. “But I think we should turn the camera off, I don't think she would like to be on camera without permission.”

“Of course.” Sonny motioned quickly and the screen stopped showing Marinette. “I guess we got a little over excited her on SaS. Thats what I call this little show.”

“As I was saying. Marinette did design that outfit herself. She told me it was inspired by Chat noir and I must say it is very impressive.” Adrien veered the conversation back to avoid that awkward moment. He made a mental note to make sure Marinette was okay with being on camera like that and apologize if she wasn't. He had told her she would likely not be on camera, and this was counter to what he had said.

“Well I see why you are humbled by her talent. That design is to die for. Though are you worried that Chat noir might steal her away from you? She did base a design off of him.” Sonny poked.

Adrien felt a faint blush thinking about this.

“I am sure Chat noir would probably find himself falling for her if she wore that in front of him.” Adrien answered, more honestly then the audience knew.

“So what is your relationship with this Marinette? Are you dating? Because I do remember rumors floating around about you running around Paris with a mystery girl? Omg is SHE that mystery girl?!” Sonny excitedly interrogated, causing the crows to lean forward and ‘Ooooooooh’

“Marinette was one of the first people that helped me out when I first started class, though we didn't exactly get off on the right foot at first.” Adrien began.

“Oh? Someone that didn't love you after first meeting you? I find that hard to believe.” Sonny replied.

The Designer was beet red from the previous questions and was now listening super closely. She was going to get to hear how Adrien thought of her.

“You could almost say she hated me, but considering how she thought I put gum on her seat, I doubt anyone would have had a high opinion of me.” Adrien continued. “ It didn't matter that I was a model or had a decent face...”

One person on the audience screamed ‘Your face is perfect!’ which got a few claps. Adrien nodded in the direction mouthing a ‘Thanks’ before facing the camera again.

“It was the first time I realized someone was treating me like a person, not just as a model or as some rich person that needed to be coddled. It made me want to change her mind, her opinion of me mattered. Because it was someone that was judging me for me, not my reputation, not my family, just me.” Adrien confessed.

Marinette remembered that moment in the rain outside of the school. It was the moment that she fell in love with him.

“I managed to clear the air with her and she was happy to move past it once she heard me out about the misunderstanding. After that, I started to get to know her.” Adrien smiled. “She had become my first real friend even though it was a bit bumpy at first, she always seemed nervous around me, I thought it was because she was still on guard, but I realized that it was just her being Marinette, she always seemed nervous but never let it stop her from helping people. She is someone I admire and someone that I can say I am better for knowing.” Adrien finished.

The crowd was surprised by his answer. kind of silent by it.

Adrien realized he had more or less spilled out how he felt about her.

Crap... So much for keeping it calm and professional. I was so busy trying to not to put a label on it that I ended up spilling my guts.

The audience started clapping. There was thunderous applause, they were moved by Adrien’s word.

At the edge of the stage, Marinette was crying happy tears.

He thinks of me like that.

The audience’s applause seemed to die down and Sonny was able to speak up again.

“Truly beautiful wording. But that didn't really answer the question.” Sonny pointed out. She smiled as she noticed something on his cheek that was pointing away from the camera.

“Seems the make up crew missed a spot. There seems to be some lip gloss on your cheek there.” Sonny stated with glee. “And what a familiar shade it is.”

Adrien and Marinette’s face’s shared the same red blush and their thoughts were in sync.

OH FUCK!

“And we will find out more about that and answer some fan questions... When we come back!” Sonny answered as she closed out for commercial.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Oh wow things are really getting interesting.” Nino commented to himself as he was watching Tv and the interview went into commercial. “Good on Marinette for making a move.”

He decided to support his friend by watching the interview, at first it was pretty dull, until Adrien started talking about him and their friends. Of course that host smelled blood in the water and she kept on attacking. He notices his phone buzz. It was a text from Alya.

‘Open the door asap!’

Oh crap! Did I forget something important! Think Nino, is today her birthday? No that is next month. Anniversary? No that was last month. What did I mess up?

Nino opened the door to see his rather furious Girlfriend at the door.

“Hey Babe have you been watching Adrien’s interview? Things are really... is something wrong?” Nino asked cautiously.

“First, is anyone home aside from you?” Alya asked, talking with an eerie calm.

“Are you planning on Killing me?” Nino asked trying to pretend like he was joking.

“Not you, you are wonderful. Someone else.” Alya assured.

“Oh, then yea. Its just me.”

“Okay good.” Alya smiled for a second before closing the door before letting her emotions out. “THAT TWO FACED BITCH LIED TO OUR FACE!”

Nino was shocked. “Wait who?”

“Lila! She blatantly lied to our faces! She told us that she was sorry, that it was a simple error in judgment. That she was doing this to help Marinette and Adrien! It was all a load of crap! My Intuition was picking up on this but I ignored it because I didn't have proof. But now I have proof!” Alya raved.

“Babe, deep breaths. What proof?” Nino tried to ease.

“You are gonna wanna sit down for this.” Alya stated. _______________________________________________________________________

Lila felt her fist tremble as she watched that interview. She was disgusted by his praise of Ladybug, how he kept so calm and collected, but then, then he started talking about Marinette. He was practically saying he worshiped the ground she walked on and then just to add insult to injury, that comment about Lip gloss.

The brunette wanted to scream, but her emotions seemed to cool when she noticed Adrienne’s reaction.

“Who is that bitch!?” Adrienne shouted as she shot up from the couch. “How come she gets to get so close to Adrien!? How come he is practically singing her praises! Just because she is a designer? I designed all of these banners! I designed the Adriknight Logo!”

“Adrienne... Please calm down, I don't think they are dating. He would have clarified it if they were.” Maggie tried to ease.

Lila felt her rage turn to sinister inspiration.

“Oh Adrienne, I am really sorry to tell you this, but they are.” Lila spoke with a saddened tone.

The three other girls looked at Lila with wide eyes. As if saying ‘What have you done’

“WHAT!?! That can't be true. You are lying!” Adrienne cried out.

Lila walked over.

“They started dating a few days ago, after they got matched up in Soulmate Searcher.”

Adrienne felt her knees wobble.

“Thats not possible... I made an account, I would have showed up on his list if he had one.” Adrienne answered.

Lila pulled out her phone and showed her a photo, one that showed Adrien’s list.

“Adrien sent me this when he told me they started dating.” Lila lied as she let the girl look at the photo closely.

“Adrienne please don't listen to her. It is obviously a joke!”

“Oh, I wish it was. Marinette is a nasty manipulative shrew that is only dating Adrien because she wants him to help launch her fashion career. The poor boy doesn't even realize it.” Lila spoke into Adrienne’s ear. “I am convinced she rigged it to get 100%, after all, no one else has ever gotten 100%. But poor naive Adrien was so trusting of the app that he just couldn't help but give it a chance.”

Tears began to stream down the club president’s cheeks.

“Adrien... but he .... but we...” Adrienne tried to articulate as she dropped Lila’s phone. She ran into the bathroom and started sobbing.

The three other girls ran after their club president as Lila picked up her phone. She snagged an Adrien cupcake and took a bite out of it, before casually walking out of the room. Lila was going to make her way to the studio.

Enjoy your gift Hawkmoth. I need to go get that recording.

_______________________________________________________________________

A window opened letting the light into a dark room. A man in a grayish silver mask and a purple suit stood in a room filled with White butterflies.

“Ah, obsession, The crazy sister of the emotion of Love. The tears and absolute anguish of a heartbroken fan who finds herself separated from the object of her affections. How tragic. It seems Miss Rossi has blessed me with a gift.” Hawkmoth monologued as he opened his hand allowing a white butterfly to land. He infused the white butterfly with his power turning it into an akuma

“Go my Akuma, find the source of that powerful negative emotion and evilize her” The villain exclaimed as he sent out the akuma from his hand and let it fly into Paris.

_______________________________________________________________________

Adrienne wept on the floor of her bathroom as her friends tried to get her to come out. She was clutching her bag of homemade Adriknight pins as she cried.

“Adrien... you belong to all of us... not that evil witch...” She sniffled as she let her sorrow take hold. The akuma flew through the small bathroom window and possessed the bag. Adrienne sat up and her face now had a purple butterfly outline over her face.

“Fandoom, I am Hawkmoth. Adrien is someone that can not be possessed by one individual, he deserves the praise and adoration of all of Paris. I am giving you the ability to expand your influence and power by recruiting more members for your cause. Show him that he deserves better. In exchange, you will deliver to me Ladybug and Chat noir’s Miraculous.”

The red head smiled darkly at the proposal. Adrien was not something that could belong to one person. If Adrien was taken away, then there would be no Adriknights, and then the club would dissolve. She couldn't let that happen!

“I accept Hawkmoth. I will show Adrien the love he deserves.”

Adrienne was covered in a purplish black mist transforming her into an akuma.

_______________________________________________________________________

Part 11 is finished I am so amazed by all of the amazing takes you guys have on Marinette’s outfit. So, I thought of something that would be cool if you guys are up for it. I want to see your guesses on what you think ‘Fandoom’ looks like. (This is completely optional and will not impact whether or not I write part 12. It would be super cool to see.)

Please Keep up that amazing feedback. I love seeing those notes and comments, It really feeds my impulsive need to write.

Below are all the people who are tagged. If you have not been tagged, and want to be tagged, or requested to be tagged and want to be from now on (PLEASE Check to make sure you are tagged in case there is an issue with the system):

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#soulmate survey #soulmate searcher #miraculous ladybug #ml #adrienette #ladrien #marichat #ladynoir #marinette dupain cheng #Adrien agreste #alya cesaire #if this one could also get 1000 notes that would be beautiful #or some delicious fanart #nino lahiffe #so much drama #the fluff #the suspence

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years

Text

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 :)

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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! :(

#ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin au #TA!ashton #art ashton #ashton fic #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin writing #5sos writing #ashton 5sos

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lovelyirony · 5 years

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@chikinan has wonderful art of samsteve, which you know i just had to write!

Steve and Sam meet when Steve’s being a little imp. It kind of defines their whole relationship, honestly. But Sam deals with the “on your left” quip while running in DC, they talk about trauma, and then Sam gets to help overthrow a secret organization that was very corrupt.

He also got to brag that he jumped into a helicopter off a skyscraper-type-building and he got to help Captain America. Steve for short.

Sam visits Steve in the hospital, bringing a shield that was fished out of the Potomac and a playlist of Marvin Gaye to play.

There’s a blonde woman sitting by his side, grinning as she tells him something.

“Oh, Sam,” Steve says. His bruise from yesterday looks a lot better--unfair, by the way, because it still hurts Sam to turn too much--and his smile is wider. “This is Sharon. She was my neighbor for a bit. Also a SHIELD agent.”

"Used to be,” Sharon says with a shrug. “Thinking about a new career.”

“The coffee shop down the street needs baristas,” Sam jokes. Sharon smiles, laughing.

“And you’re Sam, aren’t you? Nice to see Steve finally has someone who can keep up with him and keep him grounded.”

“I’m fine,” Steve says.

“Nah, you’re a freak of nature,” Sharon says. “And I need to focus more on making sure that Maria doesn’t take on all the work herself.”

“And so you can utilize her wine collection,” Steve says. Sharon flips him off easily, laughing.

“I’ll see you nerds later.”

Sam gets the most distinct impression that Sharon could probably take over a country if she so wanted to.

When Steve gets out of the hospital, he stays at Sam’s for a bit.

And then that little bit turns into a lot longer when Sam decides to go for it and kiss Steve on the lips.

Steve is a very nice man to date. They go to art museums and little coffee shops and the places that Sam says Steve has to go to.

“Why did we go to Burger King after midnight?”

“Tastes better. You go in the daytime and it’s shit.”

“...okay.”

They’re both stubborn, Steve all the more. But Sam can talk with him and they communicate well, even on the days where Steve remembers things that he doesn’t want to or the days when it feels like just a year ago he was looking forward to the premiere of Meet Me in St. Louis.

About a year and a half after they meet, Bucky enters the scene.

Bucky is an asshole, once you really get to know him. Sam says that that’s a redeeming trait, although Bucky flips him off every single time.

Bucky, Sharon, Steve, and Sam all form a friend-group of sorts and have a fun time hanging out together. Bucky and Sharon often gang up on the couple, laughing as they talk about all the dumb shit they’ve been up to.

Steve actually needs Sharon’s help when he decides that marrying Sam would be the best decision ever. Well, he decided that about three months into their relationship. But now, it’s more...real. He’s ready to settle down, look at the man he loves, and say “I do.”

He calls her and cajoles her into breakfast at eight in the morning to beat the usual people who go out for breakfast on Saturdays.

“This better be good,” Sharon says grouchily. “I could’ve been having my own coffee and watching the show about puppies.”

“I need to go ring-shopping with you. You’re the one who knows Sam best.”

Sharon grins, hugging Steve and expressing the fact that they’d find the perfect one.

They go to a lot of stores after-hours, the most-trusted experts on-hand. Steve doesn’t want this getting out until he wants it to break, and they understand that.

And if they didn’t before, Sharon makes sure they do after.

Steve decides on simplicity. Sam isn’t one for flashy declarations, so a gold band will do.

Sam knows that he and Steve will get married one day. They’ve talked about the details, said that they don’t want to get married in the winter. He just doesn’t know when.

He gets surprised by a beautiful picnic and a trip to the art museum, one of their first dates.

Steve proposes in front of one of Sam’s favorite works of art, and Sam exclaims his surprise and his love so loudly that it makes headlines and memes for the weeks to follow.

Sam can’t stop introducing Steve after that.

“Oh, have you met my motherfucking husband?” Sam asks the Avengers. “Becuase here he is. See the wedding band?”

“You’ve bragged about this eight times,” Bucky deadpans.

“And there will be more to come!” Sam replies glibly. “Meet my husband. He has questionable taste in cocktails and thinks that the best invention of the twenty-first century is gel pens.”

“They were invented in 1984, pick another one,” Tony says.

“I wasn’t alive then, I consider it then,” Steve responds.

“No,” Bruce says. “You weren’t alive for the invention of fire, do you consider that a twentieth century invention? Sam, you’re marrying an idiot.”

“But he’s my idiot,” Sam says.

All of SHIELD, once it’s rebuilt, gets the low-down. Steve Rogers is Sam Wilson’s husband, and Sam will remind you of that at any possible moment.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t interrupt my training session with new recruits to remind us all of your impending nuptials,” Maria Hill responds frostily after Sam walks in and shows off his ring for the new recruits to “ooh” and “ah” over.

“Too bad, I’m getting married,” Sam says. “Now, I need your guys’ opinion. This is very important.”

The smile drops, and the recruits lean in. Any lesson or advice they could give to Falcon could potentially lead to a status-upgrade.

“How do I tell Steve that we’re not doing vanilla frosting without hurting his feelings?”

Maria groans and says if Sam doesn’t get out, she’s throwing knives at him.

Then comes the topic of who will be in the bridal party. Sam’s family, obviously. But they need a maid-of-honor and a best man.

“For the best man, it has to be Bucky,” Steve says. “I won’t have anyone else.”

“If you must,” Sam sighs, pretending to be annoyed before pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “Have him over for lunch. But I get to choose the maid-of-honor then, and I go with Sharon.”

Steve is in charge of the color schemes, and they choose navy blue and dove gray.

“Dove?” Clint asks. “There are kinds of gray?”

“I live with idiots,” Bruce says. “Of course there’s dove gray.”

Bruce is...surprisingly helpful when it comes to procuring wedding materials.

“How do you know these things?” Sam asks.

“I watch too many shows and keep tabs on materials. Do not ask about it.”

He nods, and makes a note to get Bruce to ask about custom-suits, or Tony.

The wedding goes off perfectly. Tony has threatened everyone in a thirty-mile radius that if they attack anywhere near the wedding, he will eviscerate them until they’re nothing but a dark spot on the sidewalk.

Sam is whisked away on the morning of, Sharon dragging him to a dressing room.

“Bad luck to see the groom the day of the wedding.”

“Isn’t that for brides?”

“Nope, no gender-bias,” Sharon says. “And I guarantee if Steve saw you, he’d trip over himself. If he trips down the aisle, I win two dollars off Jane.”

“You guys are betting during my wedding?”

“Obviously, it’s what the Avengers and company do, Sam. Now, to the suit.”

Sam is in the dove gray, Steve in the navy. They make a pretty good pair, the two of them. Of course, Natasha nabs Steve’s phone away when he’s trying to show Sam what he drew on the bottom of them.

“No!” She declares. “You are not allowed to do any of this. I am turning on your wedding playlist.”

“I have a wedding playlist?”

“Technically it’s Bruce’s.”

“Why does Bruce have one?”

“I don’t ask him questions and neither should you, now onto hair,” Natasha says. “We’re going to make you look great for your wedding.”

Sharon makes sure all the bouquets are set, the caterers are doing their job (and not serving cold potatoes like so many other weddings have had before) and that everyone is ready.

“Do I really have to wear a tie?” Clint whines.

“Yes,” Bruce says, not even looking up from his newspaper. “Wear it and suffer or don’t wear it and you’ll be replaced.”

“I doubt Steve or Sam could find a replacement on such short notice,” Clint scoffs.

“They couldn’t, but I could. I have two people on stand-by.”

And then, the time comes. The bridesmaids and groomsmen look immaculate, and Steve can’t stop thinking about the day they met and how lucky he is to see his husband every day and be able to kiss him in the mornings, nights, and any time else it suits.

Sam looks like a vision. His smile is radiant and he gets up to the aisle and smoothly turns to look at the priest.

“We’re ready.”

The ceremony is beautiful, and Steve can’t take his eyes off his husband.

Sharon cries and tries to hide it behind her bouquet, although it ends up making a lovely picture for the photographer.

The reception is wonderful. The food is great, the dancing is great, and Steve and Sam show off a very impressive first-dance that involves Steve near-hurling Sam out of his grasp. All in all, a very nice start.

Bucky delivers an excellent speech on how lovesick Steve is, and how he told him one night that “he would marry Sam, even if it did kill him.” Sam cries.

Sharon lightens up the mood with various stories about how stupid both of the grooms are, and how Sam had walked into a light-pole once because Steve happened to be wearing a rather nice shirt.

They dance through the night, and end up in their bed, breathing hard.

“Love you, Steve.”

“Love you too.”

“You’re my husband now. Like, for real.”

“What a thought,” Steve teases, pulling him close. “You’re my husband too.”

“A surprise,” Sam says, laughing. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most.”

#LISTEN #they are nerds who can't do shit #bruce is a wedding planenr what about it #i write what i want #lovelyirony writes #bruce banner #samsteve #sam wilson #steve rogers #captain america #just know when i type captain america i mean sam every single time #sharon carter #bucky barnes #sam and sharon make fun of bucky #avengers as a family

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peace-coast-island · 5 years

Text

Diary of a Junebug

Take time to enjoy the scenery

Clear blue-gray skies, rolling hills with patches of green poking out after a long slumber, sunlight making its way through the surrounding mountain peaks…

At times like these I wish we can take pictures with our minds so what shows up on film matches exactly what’s in front of us. The view of the mountains is still great on camera, but the pics don’t quite do it justice.

Today I went on a hike with Josie and Richard. It was sort of an impromptu thing that was planned last night. Josie, Richard, and their daughter Quinn are taking a trip to Anglebridge to visit old friends.

Since it’s a long drive and they have a toddler, rest stops are a must. The camp happens to be the halfway point from Spectrum Falls to Anglebridge so they decided to spend a couple days here since we haven’t seen each other in forever.

Josie is rarely seen without a camera. Photography is her passion and she runs a photo studio called Photogenic Moments. Her husband Richard is a marine biologist who’s also studying in grad school.

They met in college through Josie’s brother Mark, who was Richard’s roommate. The three hung out often as Josie was shy so naturally she stuck to her older brother while Richard was far from home and didn’t know anyone in Spectrum Falls. Mark was pretty much their wingman.

Growing up, Josie was always into photography. Many of her childhood memories involve her running around taking pictures with her toy camera. She expressed herself through pictures and became known as the camera girl. While at school she slipped by unnoticed unless needed as a photographer, she developed a following on social media.

In high school Josie’s sister Jennifer opened Shine Boutique and Josie ran the business’s social media accounts. Realizing how much she enjoyed taking pictures for her sister’s boutique, and how much her sister loved running her own business, Josie wanted to follow in her footsteps with a photography studio.

It was pretty much a given that Josie was going to Spectrum University. She was always one for making safe choices so it would make sense for her to choose the same college as her siblings. Also the visual arts programs at the university are top notch and running the boutique’s social media helped a lot with her portfolio as well as getting her noticed by the faculty.

Richard has an interesting upbringing. He spent most of his childhood moving around until his mom got a job at the Edelton Hotel as a singer. So he and his twin brother Brandon lived in a hotel. Then in high school they lived on a cruise ship hotel, also by Edelton. Richard was the reliable twin so he was usually entrusted with keeping an eye on the hotel owner’s daughter Anya, who looks up to him and Brandon.

Coincidentally, after the cruise ship hotel shut down, Anya transferred to Peace Coast Academy around the same time Richard went off to college. So their schools were about an hour and a half away. At one point he spent a few months at the high school as a teaching assistant during Anya’s senior year.

Also, both initially came for school, only to make Spectrum Falls/Peace Coast Island their new home. After graduating Anya’s now studying at Spectrum University while Richard’s in the grad program so they occasionally run into each other on campus.

Anyway, when Richard left for college, he was basically starting with a clean slate. For most of his life he was seen as the nerdy, know-it-all twin. He was one of those snobby and standoffish self-proclaimed intellectuals, so while at times he was nice, he could also be insufferable.

Part of the reason why he wanted a new start in Spectrum Falls was because of how he treated most of his friends. He had an on and off girlfriend but it wasn’t a healthy relationship as both of them are highly competitive and he took out his insecurities on her. They planned to go to Harvard together but she got accepted and he didn’t. He was upset since that was his dream school but in hindsight it was for the best. By graduation they ended their relationship for good after realizing how much they dragged each other down.

Along with Harvard, Richard also got rejected from Brown and Yale. Spectrum University was actually one of his last choices as he knew almost nothing about the school. By then he didn’t really care where he wanted to go as long as it was far from home.

So that fall he moved into his dorm, lost and alone in an unfamiliar place. And then Mark introduced him to Josie, who lived upstairs. From there, Josie and Richard became close friends.

The summer before their sophomore year marked when they became a couple. Instead of going home like he originally planned, Richard decided to stay in Spectrum Falls. Mark had just moved out of his parents' house so he offered Richard his old room. Considering how much time Josie and Richard spent together, it wasn’t surprising that Mark and Josie’s parents would be fine with Richard moving in for the summer.

Months later, during spring break, marked a turning point in their relationship. Josie, Richard, Mark, and some friends were in Tripletown when the infamous earthquake took place. Josie and Richard were trapped at a hotel that was eventually destroyed by the aftershocks.

The night before they slept together for the first time and didn’t wake up until noon the next day. After hanging around their hotel room a bit, they got dressed and were about to leave when the main earthquake hit. After barely surviving the catastrophic natural disaster, Josie and Richard became closer.

On an interesting note, the hotel where they almost died was where Quinn was conceived.

So that summer, Josie and Richard got married, and months later they became parents. Josie’s parents were surprised but supportive while Richard’s were caught off guard and were initially against the wedding. Things were a bit difficult between Richard and his father and brother as they still saw him as the nerdy and insecure kid who planned out every second of his life.

Since starting college, Josie has been documenting her life through photos by keeping a scrapbook diary. It was just a side project at first, something to help her with the transition. She almost dropped it because she felt that it wasn’t getting anywhere. But with Richard’s encouragement, she kept it up and it became their project.

Not only it helped her improve as a photographer, it was also therapeutic. At first, Josie only took pictures of memories that were considered interesting, something you’d show off on social media. Then she began to take pictures of the mundane and the not so good moments.

Somehow in the midst of the earthquake and aftershocks, she managed to snap some pics of the destruction. It sounds strange but putting the pictures in her scrapbook and writing a lengthy diary entry about what happened helped her process that traumatic event.

What Josie couldn’t put into words, her photographs spoke.

Taking inspiration from her scrapbook diary, Josie created Photogenic Moments. A picture is worth a thousand words, so Josie wanted to tell stories.

Even when she’s on vacation, Josie and her camera are still attached at the hip. After being at the camp for two years, you get used to the scenery. But for Josie and Richard, it’s a sight to marvel at.

Through a different perspective, you notice things you haven’t seen before. Seeing the world through Josie’s eyes is like looking through a high tech camera lens. She can turn something mundane like a patch of grass into something thought provoking and aesthetically pleasing to look at.

When you’re with her, you learn how to take the time to appreciate the surroundings. Thanks to her, I fell in love with the scenery of the camp all over again.

If anyone can take an excellent picture of the mountains that would do it justice, it would be Josie.

#animal crossing #animal crossing pocket camp #acpc #Diary of a Junebug #headcanon ramble

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nolancox82-blog · 4 years

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Even though ink might be sterile enough to touch in a number of minutes, it's always a good idea to allow 24 Hrs for your own canvas to wash before stretching could shoot place.When the canvas is totally dry it must be hand stretched professionally made stretcher bars. Canvases must always be stretched yourself in place of machine. The framer needs to create an tightness that is even . While stretching, principles ought to be used in the place of adhesive, since the canvas could slide on adhesive and decrease the entire tightness.As a minimum all canvas printing businesses should carry out the above mentioned techniques to ensure the canvas print is to your complete satisfaction.Sam Black may be the dog owner of eXtraPrints.com an expert in offering personalised canvas prints.

#The Sydney Canvas Company

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negasonicimagines · 6 years

Text

Passion

request: Buffy Prompt 6 with Yandere Ellie?

[ 6: “Passion…it lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir, open its jaws, and howl. It speaks to us, guides us… passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments; the joy of love, the clarity of hatred, and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we’d truly know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank… without passion, we’d truly be dead.” ]

notes: Yeah, I like Poet!Ellie & Photographer!Ellie. Leave me alone. I made Ellie a little more confident in this one, and centered it more from the reader’s perspective. Writing this made me want Brianna Hildebrand to play a yandere lesbian character more than anything ever. This Ellie is a little more goth, I think. F/H=Food (you) Hate, E/N=Enemy’s Name, and L/G=Least (favorite movie) genre. F/F=Favorite Food, F/TV=Favorite TV (show.)

warnings: Yandere, so a bit sexual & a bit violent & a bit creepy. Nothing too bad for the trope, though, I think.

Passion - Ellie Phimister

It lies in all of us, sleeping.

Waiting.

And though unwanted, unbidden,

It will stir, open its jaws, and

Howl.

It speaks to us, guides us…

Passion rules us all.

And we obey.

What other choice do we have?

Passion is the source of our finest moments;

The joy of love,

The clarity of hatred,

And the ecstasy of grief.

It hurts sometimes,

More than we can bear.

If we could live without passion,

Maybe we’d truly know some kind of peace.

But we would be hollow.

Empty rooms, shuttered and dank.

Without passion,

We’d be truly dead.

“Compelling stuff,” you breathe to yourself, realizing you’d been nearly panting at the piece. There was something about it, the darkness seductive to you. You wonder what inspired her to write this one. You’d never really met her beyond sharing a class or two, but you’d grown a bit of a crush on the star of your school’s poetry club. Her words drew you in.

“You think so?” She says from behind you, a little too close, but who were you to complain? You turn quickly, to face her and those eyes, oh god, those eyes. Absolutely penetrating.

“Yeah, I love all your work,” you compliment.

“Mind if I ask you a favor, then?” She wonders.

“Anything,” you tell her. “I mean, within reason,” you add half-heartedly.

“Well, I have this assignment for Photography that I sort of procrastinated on because I wasn’t sure how to fulfill the prompt… Do you think you could help me?”

“Sure. You really think I could help? You’re way more of an artist than me,” you tell her.

“Everyone has their own inner artist. They just need to find their medium, and...Unleash.” Her words fill you with the best kind of tension, and you squirm. “Sorry if I made things uncomfortable. I’ve been told I can be a little intense.”

Uh, yeah. Intensely hot, you think. She turns dark red, and you realize you must’ve said it out loud.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry,” you apologize, but she shakes her head.

“No, no, it’s fine. You’re just… Also attractive. That’s why I like to photograph you- I mean, why I want to photograph you for my project.” Something sparks in her eye, her blush fading.

“When?” You wonder.

“Would now be alright?” Ellie asks.

“Sure,” you reply, and she takes your hand, leading you to her dorm. Ellie closes the door behind her, and you smile, suddenly a bit nervous. She smiles back.

“So, this project is about… Vulnerability. The best way to make someone look vulnerable in photography is for there to be a certain balance in the lighting. The brighter the light, the darker the shadow, that kind of thing,” Ellie explains, and you find yourself hanging on her every word. You can tell she knows this, and that she likes it, a hint of cunning in her small smile. “A good way to capture vulnerability is to have the subject look directly in the camera, or in another direction that’s meaningful in the context of the picture.”

“I don’t know if I’m the best subject… I don’t really have any modelling experience.”

“Oh, no, you’re perfect,” Ellie insists. “Trust me, I had you in mind when I got the assignment.”

That creeps you out a little bit.

“M-me? Really? We don’t even know each other that well…”

The expression on her face is one you can’t quite comprehend. “Well, it’s not as much about your personality as it is about… Those eyes of yours. They’re the windows to the soul, isn’t that what they say? And yours…” She trails off, staring into them. Your face heats up under the intensity of her gaze, the intensity that draws you to her and her art, whether photography or poetry. There’s a longing inside it all, inside her, that speaks to you.

Your faces inch closer together, and, before you can think about it, your lips meet. Slowly, she pulls away from you, and your earlier-mentioned eyes flutter open. You remove them from hers.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” you apologize, but she shakes her head.

“Let’s take those pictures, eh?” Ellie gets her camera off her shelf. “Do you mind taking off your jacket?” Once the strap is around her neck, she takes the black top sheet off her bed and hangs it on the wall, covering the door. She gets a stool out from her closet and takes your jacket off for you. You shiver, the room a bit cold.

You sit on the stool, and look in the camera like she specified, a bit nervous.

“Look at me,” she suggests, but it feels a bit more like a demand. You do so, wrapping your arms around yourself. After the shutter clicks a few times, she looks through. “Hmm… I’m just not sure about these. Maybe we should do something to get you in the mood. Could you maybe talk about something that makes you feel vulnerable?”

“Hmm… I guess so…” You begin tentatively, but find yourself opening up to her in a way you’d never really opened up to anyone, about anything. Even with the uneasy feeling in your stomach, you felt like you could trust her. She’d never hurt you, or betray you, you were sure.

In the end, you’re crying softly. Before you realize what she’s doing, her arms are around you.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Y/N. I wish I could’ve been there to protect you,” she tells you, smoothing your hair from your face and wiping your tears away. “I think the shots we got today were excellent. I’m sorry for making you cry.”

“No, no, you didn’t. You’re really nice, Ellie, we should hang out more often. Especially since you know my tragic backstory and all,” you joke.

“We should,” she agrees, but her tone is suspicious, to say the least. You go to exit, pushing the makeshift backdrop aside, but she stops you, a tight grip around your arm that almost hurts. “How about we hang out, and walk to dinner together? No point in going all the way to your dorm, by the time you get there it’ll be dinnertime and you’ll have to walk all the way to the dining hall,” she reasons.

“I suppose you’re right,” you admit, and the tension returns as your eyes meet. At first, it made you nervous, but now it excited you. There was a darkness within her that enraptured you. “Here, I’ll put up the stool,” you offer, going over to the closet. You don’t see her attempt to stop you, and you open the door, putting the stool inside. You gasp.

The walls of the closet are lined with pictures of you. Looking out the window in class, eating breakfast, training, sleeping, there’s even a few of you-

“Oh god,” you say before covering your mouth, mortified.

“Y/N, I can explain, I- I just- You- You’re my muse. I can’t- I can’t stop thinking about you, I need you, I-” Her breathing becomes labored, her eyes are practically the size of golfballs. “You can’t leave,” she insists. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Y/N, I just said it! You’re my muse. You’re the reason for all my creations. Those poems, all the pictures I take, it’s you, it’s all for you. You’re my inspiration, I love you.”

“You- You love me? But you don’t even know me,” you disagree, confused and a bit frightened.

“But don’t I? I watch you all the time. I know what you don’t like, F/H, E/N, L/G... I know what you do! My poems, F/F, F/TV… I know your birthday, your favorite color, your insecurities, I know everything about you, and I want you to know everything about me. I want you to be mine, and no one else’s. I know you’re lonely. I- I can make it so you’re never lonely again. You’ll always have me, and I have friends, friends that would like you.” You can tell Ellie’s putting all her effort in convincing you… And she does seem quite thoughtful. You are lonely. You already have a crush on her, would it really be the worst to take the next step and make it official?

“Then I’m yours.”

“And no one else’s?” Ellie asks, sounding a bit meek as you both step closer to each other.

“No one else’s,” you agree.

“Perfect,” she grins, placing a kiss on your forehead. You blush, smiling back at her. “That’s a good girl…” she purrs, moving your hair so that your face and neck are more accessible to her before pressing her lips to your own. You feel her inner fire, both literal and metaphorical, in the kiss, and your knees weaken before your lips part

“So, those pictures in there… You’ve been watching me for a while… It looks like since freshman year,” you note nervously.

“I have,” she willingly admits, fingertips tenderly ghosting down your cheek and neck, to your shoulder, and back up. You shudder in pleasure, bite your lip, and look to her, restlessly. “Oh, is it like that, now? I looked through your internet history, love. I know just...what...you...like...”

#wlw fanfiction #wlw imagine #wlw x reader #yandere imagine #yandere fanfiction #negasonic teenage warhead #negasonic teenage warhead x reader #negasonic teenage warhead imagine #ellie phimister imagine #Ellie Phimister #ellie phimister x reader #marvel #x-men #marvel fanfiction #x-men fanfiction #fanfiction #yandere

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elejah-wonderland · 6 years

Text

Always/3

Fanfiction

Part 3

Elijah Mikaelson x reader/Elena

ft Klaroline

Summary: Elijah and Y/N/E are happily married, until one night changed everything. What happened - read and find out.

This is fluffy and so very alternative universe. I hope you like it. Here is quite a lengthy chapter. Thanks for reading and liking. I so appreciate it. xoxo

tags @rissyrapp20 @dendrite-lover @cassienoble2000 @elejahforever @hides2000 @captainshurley

_________

Y/N/E watched Elijah through the window as he walked over to his car.

“How do you feel after - your first meeting?”- Bonnie now asked Y/N/E.

“He’s ni-ce”- Y/N/E replied.

“He is quite an amazing person from all I have heard about him.”- Bonnie continued.

Y/N/E now turned around and looked at her psychiatrist.

“I will go - ho-me to him?”

“Yes. He is your husband. Unless you don’t want to. You can go to your parents -”

Y/N/E now shook her head.

“With him. I wa-nt to go with - him.”

Bonnie nodded in ok. They now sat down to talk more about how the meeting with Elijah went, thought it was obvious that she was fine with him. Still, Bonnie could tell by her body language that she was apprehensive.

And so -three months had passed since Y/N/E woke up.Thee months of intensive speech therapy, exercise, helped her immensely to get back to life, as she said. Only thing that remain was the locked memory of her previous life. Bonnie explained to her an Elijah that she might get it back in time, but she might never get it back. Y/N/E didn't seem to be affected by it much.

"She could feel resigned. Sometimes people do that. She focused all of her strength to speak again. That was her main preoccupation. And rightly so, she has done tremendously well. Some don't manage what she has in such a short time. She is a fighter. But, you still have to be very patient with her."- Bonnie said as she sat down to speak with Elijah the day of Y/N/E's release from the Clinic.

"That is something I got plenty of"- Elijah said-"I understand that nothing can be rushed an it's the last thing I would ever do"-

"You have suffered along with her. It would be good that you speak to someone to. There are support groups, but if you son't prefer that I know an excellent therapist. Camille O'Connell."

"Thank you. I'll consider it"- Elijah said and now got up.

"There are strong people, and I see that you are one, but everyone has limits. You're only human. An I am not saying that's a bad thing. -Bonnie said.

Elijah nodded a little, understanding what she meant.

"I will still see her here every week for a session."- Bonnie said as it was obvious that their talk came to the end- "Good luck"

"Thank you for everything you and your husband have done."- Elijah said now putting his hand out to Bonnie. The psychiatrist now shook it and said-

"That's our job.”

Both of them then went to Y/N/E, who was still busy packing some of her stuff to take home.

Bonnie's Flashback

Day before, in the session with Bonnie

"So, do you feel ready to go home?"- Bonnie asked.

Y/N/E took a moment and answered it-

"Yes and no."

"And how do you feel about Elijah?"

Y/N/E looked at the flower bouquet he had brought her the day before.

"He is nice."

Bonnie wrote a note down. It was the same feeling she expressed after meeting him the first day at the Rehabilitation two months earlier. She then looked at Y/N/E. She was now looking at the photo that she had put in a frame-

"I feel good around him. Everything he said to me looks like we had a happy marriage. And he has done so much for me"

"So, you are happy to go home with him?"- Bonnie asked.

"Yes."- Y/N/E said.

Bonnie noted down that Y/N/E was positive about Elijah, but her demeanour showed that she didn't express anything that made her feel more than just feel good around him.

Elijah now took the bags and waited a little till Bonnie and Y/N/E said their goodbyes. Although Bonnie was her therapist, she got attached to the woman. She considered her her friend. Y/N/E gave her a hug. Then turned to Elijah, who asked if she was ready and Y/N/E smiled a little nodding. Inside she still felt quite apprehensive. It was like entering the world with new eyes. Everything, every day was like she had been put in a book of collage art. One chapter was her art, the other her husband, her parents, her friends, herself. Everything was jumbled up.

As they got into the car, he asked-

"What would you like for dinner?"

"Pizza"- Y/N/E replied.

"Pizza?"- he said surprised. She never like pizza for some strange reason.

"It as on my dislike list. I want to try it and see why I dislike it so much."- Y/N/E said.

"All right. Do you want to pick up something from your like list?"

"Red wine, but I guess I cant have it because of my medication"- Y/N/E said.

"You used to like beer. We can get you a non-alcoholic one"- Elijah suggested.

"Beer, really? Jenna didn't write it down."- Y/N/E now said.

"When we met you would always order beer. And then you stopped. Well, you stopped drinking alcohol altogether."-Elijah explained.

"Beer then"-Y/N/E agreed and now asked him-"Do you like pizza?"

"I do. Kol, Klaus an I would meet on Fridays - it was a long time ago- but yes- and it would be playing cards. Then we would always ordered some"

"Why don't I like it?"- Y/N/E inquired.

"You were always eating healthy. You hate junk food actually."

"Oh, yes, Vicky told me"- Elena said now turning to look out of the car window. The streets looked familiar to her. But she didn't know for sure exactly where they were. He could feel that it had discourages her slightly.

“Can we put music on? I have - this- “- Y/N/E now produced an USB with the music Bonnie had helped her choose.

“Yes, of course”- Elijah now took the USB and put it in the car player.As the first song started, Elijah’s eyes glittered with tearfully, but this was a happy glow, as the first song was strangely something he listened to - Photograph - Ed Sheeran.

He glanced at her and she now at him-

“I know it is not something you listen to”- Y/N/E said, and Elijah now gasped thinking she remembered something.

“You remember what I- listened to?”

Y/N/E shook her head and replied-

“Vicky told me what you listen to.”

“Oh.”- Elijah exclaimed a little, and then the second song on the play list was Greta Van Fleet - Highway tune.

That she took the trouble to put the songs he liked warmed his heart. They had quite a bit in common, like watching old movies, they loved art and shared also a great interest in Opera, but when it came to pop music, they were the total opposite, and she could not understand how he could love the heavy stuff.

Now, as she played with the fingers to the beat of the drums on her thigh, he had to ask-

“You like the song?”

“Yes”- Y/N/E replied-”and - I would like to learn to play drums.”

“You want to learn to play drums?”- Elijah was stunned.

“Yes. That is strange?”

“It is - unusual. Ahm- but - if you want to - we can arrange it.”- he replied.

“Thank you.”- Y/N/E said.

And they continued listening to the most unusual playlist put together. An hour later they arrived what was their home. As Elijah parked up, and they got out, Y/N/E looked around.

"This is our neighbourhood.”

"It looks really nice."- Y/N/E said.

"Trying new things could be a new adventure"- Elijah now said thinking of her wish to learn to play drums.

"Adventure"- Y/N/E repeated and continued-"I think I like adventures, at least that's what I wrote in that intro for one of my exhibitions. Did I keep a diary?"

"As far as I know you didn't. You wrote a book of essays about ceramics, sculpture. You were about to publish it when-" "The attack happened?!"- Y/N/E stated.

She could for the first time see that it was painful for him to say it.

Y/N/E's Flashback

A few weeks before

Y/N/E looked at the photo of her and her best friend Vicky Donovan.

She was told by Elijah that her best friend was coming to visit her. She was an actress and lived in Los Angeles. She had read all the well wishing cards she had send her.

"I am so sorry I couldn't come earlier"- Vicky said as she hugged Y/N/E.

"It is fine."- Y/N/E said.

The women got out of the hug and just looked at one another. Y/N/E knew her from the pictures and what Elijah had told her. Everything else was blank.

Vicky then sighed a little and in her bubbly nature said-

"So, everything is - wiped off?!"

"Almost everything. I remember something about myself when I was little."- Y/N/E explained.

Vicky hugged her friend again.

Y/N/E asked her to tell her all about their friendship. And finally about Elijah.

"You married the greatest charmer on this planet"- Vicky said-"every girl wanted him. And he had so many affairs."

"Really?"- Y/N/E was surprised.

"Ok. Don't get this wrong. He is dark, tall and handsome, and deep inside like absolute goodness."

"So, he was with lot's of other women?"

"Yeah, but when he fell in love with you, he only had eyes for you"- Vicky said-"and you didn't make it easy for him."

"Tell me."- Y/N/E said.

"Ok. Here it goes. Ready?"

Y/N/E nodded.

"Right. You first met in this bar. I think it was called ‘Daniel's’. I knew his sister-in-law Sophie."

"Kol's wife?"- Y/N/E interrupted her.

"She is a designer. I met her when I worked as a model"- Vicky explained-"anyway, he was hooking up with a woman -Hayley, I think was her name- and both Sophie and Rebekah couldn't stand her. You know Rebekah-"

Y/N/E swayed with her head implying that she now didn't really know Rebekah anymore.

"Oh, yes"- Vicky smiled a little apologetically and continued-"Rebekah is the best, but if she doesn't like you- then she is your worst enemy. But she really liked you. The moment she met you she was like your best friend."

"So, I didn't want to be with him cos he was with that woman?"- Y/N/E asked.

"Sort of. You were also kind of dating this guy- Mason Lockwood."

"Kind of?"

"You were off and on. You didn't really want to be serious with anyone."- Vicky explained.

"Then how did it happen? How did I get to marry Elijah?"

"You kept seeing each other. You two both loved that bar. And you just would talk. Like forever. Seriously. You two would sit on the bar and just talked about anything. Your art. The stuff that was going on in the world. New York. Why the spring is better than the autumn. Or why you loved Easter and he loved Christmas."

"So, we started as friends?"

"Pretty much. Although- you were both falling hard and didn't really know you were. And we all watched it and we were all like- get a room already!"- Vicky said.

"And? How then."

"It was for Halloween bonfire night. Rebekah would always organize these theme parties. And we were all invited to the Hamptons."

Y/N/E now got up and looked for the album and then showed her friend the strange photo of her and Elijah in costume.

"Ah, yes. Wow. Yes, that's it."-Vicky said- "this is the night you made your mind up that you will tell him that you choose him"

"Choose?"- Y/N/E was surprised it had come to the point she had to make a choice.

"Well. Elijah told you how he felt a few days before the party. And he saw you with Mason in the bar and though you broke up with Mason already, but Mason had to kiss you in front of Elijah. And it was all a bit ridiculous. Elijah thought that was it."

"But then I went to the party"

"Yeah, we went to the party"- Vicky said-"and he was there, all completely broken."

"What happened then?"- Y/N/E was eager to find out.

"You went to him and - told him that you choose him- and it's not like you ever had to choose. You were so in love with him already."

Taking her bag Y/N/E gave Elijah a significant look now saying-

"I don't know how this will go, but I am ready for this new adventure!"

Elijah put a little smile on and nodded.

"Shall we follow the white rabbit then!?"- he said.

"The white rabbit?"- Y/N/E asked.

"Ok. I will get the book. You will understand when you read the story-"

"Tell me just what it is about?"-Y/N/E said as they got into the elevator.

"It's about this girl Alice- she went through a rabbit hole..."- Elijah started.

Elsewhere

Rebekah an Klaus walked in ‘Daniel's’ discussing his latest sail boat design. "This will be state of the art boat. Limited edition"- Klaus said. "Oh, you think about anything else except for your boats?"-Rebekah said sitting down at the bar. "Sometimes"- Klaus said looking at the direction of a blond who was sitting at the bar not far from them.

"Right"- was Rebekah's comment looking at her phone. She was so eager to phone Elijah to find out how he and Y/N/E were getting on, but she didn't want to intrude on their privacy really. Klaus had picked up on it and now advised her not to make the call.

"They are fine"- Klaus said.

"You didn't see her. She is Y/N/E, but the way she looked at me was like her doppelganger was looking at me- like someone else was in her body."

"Sure things are not like they were- she has to start over but I believe that Y/N/E, the Great, will conquer this memory thing. Anyway, they need time alone"-as he said that, he got up and walked away to the rest rooms. Kol and Sophie walked in and Rebekah put her phone on the counter waving at her brother and his wife, who had someone with them, someone Rebekah knew all too well. Her heart fluttered as they approached her an she said a faint hi to the man.

"We found Matt lurking outside Tiffany's actually"- Kol said "Tiffany's?"- Rebekah as surprise to hear it. "Yeah, getting an engagement ring"- Sophie said "No, just a bracelet for Vicky - it's her birthday on the 18th of August!"- Matt said. "But that's like two months away"- Rebekah said "I am in New York just for a couple of days"- Matt explained. "So you're here for- to get her a present"- "No, My mom is not well"- Matt said-"Vicky is on a movie shoot in Toronto, she will be down here this weekend."

The subject swayed to Y/N/E, who was now walking around the penthouse apartment slightly stunned with the place. Soaring ceilings,marble fireplaces and stunning paintings sparkled in Y/N/E's eyes. A spiral staircase off the living room opened into a luxurious bedroom with an Italian glass chandelier marveling the room. Out back was a private garden, lush with greenery, drenched in sunlight. This was their home. She couldn't believe it. She gazed out in the New York skyline now.

Elijah, who had just ordered the pizzas, now found her on the terrace.

"Hey-"- he said dearly-"so, how was the tour?"

She turned to him with marvelled eyes -"Are you some kind of a prince, because this definitely looks like a miniature palace"

"No prince, I am afraid"- Elijah said-"just an ordinary guy. Oh, you think this place- You inherited it. It's actually yours"- "What? Really?"-Y/N/E looked surprised. "You lived here already when I met you. This place is your muse, your inspiration, because of your grandmother. She supported you as an artist."

"Supported me?"-

"Your parents wanted you to study medicine. But you just wanted to do your thing."- Elijah continued.

They now walked to the kitchen, which was entirely different, very eclectic in style.

"Can I cook?"- Y/N/E asked as Elijah plated out the pizza for them.

"Yes. There-"- Elijah now showed Y/N/E the photo- on the wall.

"I have to learn about myself through photographs- "- Y/N/E looked at herself. She had no memory of that.

Elijah now remembered what Bonnie told him - "We are dealing here with retrograde memory loss. There is no access to events that occurred, or information that was learned, before the injury. It tends to negatively affect episodic, autobiographical and declarative memory, while usually keeping procedural memory intact with no difficulty for learning new knowledge."

"So, that means she can't remember anything about what she had done previously."

"Yes, all of that is locked away. There is explicit and implicit memory- People use explicit memory throughout the day, such as remembering the time of an appointment or recollecting an event from years ago. Explicit memory involves conscious recollection, compared with which is an unconscious, unintentional form of memory. Remembering a specific driving lesson is an example of explicit memory, while improved driving skill as a result of the lesson is an example of implicit memory. it's what we call procedural memories. They are automatically retrieved and utilized for the execution of the integrated procedures involved in both cognitive and motor skills, from tying shoes to flying an airplane to reading."- Bonnie explained.

"That means- she will know how to drive a car?"- Elijah asked.

"Yes. But she will not remember learning how to drive, the lessons, for example."

"Come on, let's see if you like the pizza!"- Elijah urged Y/N/E to sit down and for a moment enjoy herself.

"You did all this."- she sat down at the hub area-"all these photos- telling me my own story?!"

"We have always loved photographing everything around us. I have so many - they are all stored on the computer."- Elijah said.

Y/N/E now took some pizza finally and was absolutely indulging in it.

"This is sooo good!"- she said in amazement.

Elijah smiled happily. This was the first time in a very long while that he felt good inside. Seeing her there enjoying the pizza, something she wouldn't ever eat, he thanked the universe for the moment.

"So, what is next on the list"- he asked.

"Food?"

"Anything-"-he said.

"I don't know yet. I will make a list. Dr Bennett told me to write things down- I think I will start a diary."- Y/N/E said.

"That's a great idea"- Elijah said taking a swag of beer from the bottle.

Y/N/E did the same.

****

In the bar, Rebekah, Kol, Sophie and Matt where talking about different topics, whereas Klaus, way too intrigued by the blonde woman,on the way back from the rest rooms now stopped by her, and in a very slick manner addressed her having heard her speak with a distinctive New Orleans accent -

"Sorry, do you happen to be from New Orleans?"

"I am."- Caroline said-"so?"

"Nothing. Just haven't heard 'where y'at?' for a long while"- Klaus said.

"Oh, yeah"- Caroline gave him a look of 'you're really doing this as a pick up line

"Klaus Mikaelson"- he introduced himself-"that bunch over there are my sister, brother, his wife and and my sister's ex- I am pretty harmless- you can ask them"

"Not interested"- Caroline said and now asked for another Bourbon cocktail.

One thing Caroline Forbes didn't know was that Klaus Mikaelson never gave up so easily, even though this very moment he put his charming smirk on letting her be. He rejoined his siblings.

Caroline looked after him as she took a sip of her second cocktail. He and his small crowd seemed to have great fun as they joked and laughed. And she nursed a broken heart and the last thing she needed was a guy. Still Klaus gave her a sweet look a few moments later. Caroline embarrassed slightly that he caught her looking at him clumsily made out she was asking for the waiter's attention.

"A message!"- Rebekah said as her phone buzzed and it was Elijah.

"And?"- Kol and Klaus said in one voice.

Rebekah read out- 'All good"

"Is that it?"- Rebekah was miffed about the short message.

"What do you want him to tell you"- Kol remarked -"everything will be fine! A round of drinks for everyone!"

Celebrations were in order. This message felt like finally they could start over again.

At the Mikaelson penthouse, Y/N/E and Elijah were going through the different files of photos he had collected and organized on his computer

"So, here- all sorted by year, events, holidays. You can feed it into your computer later."- he said.

"OK. Let's start then- "- Y/N/E said opening the first file- it started with the Bonfire night when they first kissed and she told him she loved him. Then series of photos from parties, exhibition openings, their first trip - New Zealand.

He had to explain why New Zealand. And that they did the bun then series of photos of their wedding prep.

"Vicky said we eloped!?"- Y/N/E uttered looking at him-"is that why we have no wedding photos?" "Yes. You came to my office - it was sometime in the middle of the preparations all flustered-

Elijah's Flashback retelling Y/N/E how it came about

"I am sorry that I am bothering you at work- but I just can't do it!" "What Y/N/E?" "The whole wedding thing"- "You - are you - what is going on?"- Elijah said feeling as if someone ha pierce him straight in the heart. Y/N/E noticed the sad streak appear in his eyes fearing that was it-she is cancelling everything. She approached him and kissed him wrapping her arms around his neck- "OMG- did you think I was calling it off?"

Elijah nodded slightly.

"Why?"

"You looked so fed up- and we've been together like little over six months- and maybe you got cold feet?"- Elijah said.

"My feet are warm. Very. I just don't like the whole planning thing- and it feels like the wedding planner just took over everything- and I hate the whole guest list and the venue is not right. This is supposed to be about you and me. And I just want to go - elope. There is a place called Mystic Falls in Virginia. I booked the hotel on my way here."

"You did?"- Elijah was stunned.

"We can get married in a private ceremony- they have this beautiful gazebo. I called Vicky and she is all up for supporting us to elope!"- Y/N/E explained.

"Wow! Really?"

"Really!!"- Y/N/E's eyes glimmered with eagerness and cheekiness.

"Ok. Let's do it!"- Elijah agreed-"Your wish is my command!"

And they eloped. The only thing she took was the wedding dress. Vicky could not go with them as she got a role in a TV show and they took off, asking two complete strangers to stand as their witnesses.

"You would always do things on an impulse. Maybe not always"- Elijah explained-"but quite often. You were fearless, open, loving, caring, dreamy -"- then he stopped as he realized he said were-"you are- I am sorry- I don't know why I said it in past tense-"

Y/N/E touched his hand instinctively, like always had done when he was sad or frustrated. This was the first time she had touched him after she came out of the coma. If an onlooker could see the moment in slow motion the way he looked at her, her hand on his, then him raising his eyes at her, looking at her with his heart nearly bouncing out of his chest - Y/N/E realized how deeply in love he was with her. This man, that she didn't know, that she had this amazing history with, made her feel all fuzzy inside, but still something kept her away. She didn't know why she felt like something inside of her was holding back. She felt like an outsider in her own life. She didn't know herself, who she really was- just from all the stories people had told her. She didn't even recognize herself in the photo when they first showed her.

Elijah noticed the frustration taking over and now trying to calm her suggested they take a break from the stories about the past-

"It's been a long day. We don't have to do everything in one day"

"No...no we don't."- Y/N/E said-"when do I have to take the medication?"

Elijah looked at the clock- "in an hour. Do you want to have a little rest?"

"I don't know"- Y/N/E said getting up- "I really don't know."

They stood there in their glorious living room looking at one another enveloped in a limbo. This was never going to be easy. He knew that. The men that left her for dead, took a great part of their lives away.

Flashback

More than a year ago

The attending surgeon got out of the OR. Elijah, Rebekah, Miranda and Greyson stood up all to hear how the operation went. And the attending asked Elijah to follow him to his office.

"Why?"- Elijah was breaking apart inside.

"Please follow me to the office"- Dr Parker said.

Elijah went, leaving Rebekah to deal with Greyson and Miranda.

In the surgeon's office, Elijah waited for the news as if he was in front of the firing squad.

"This is not an easy thing to say-"- the surgeon paused for a second-"did you know that your wife was eight weeks pregnant?"

"Wha-"- Elijah felt like someone took his life away as he assumed from the surgeon's face what was coming-"it didn't-?"

"I am afraid not- we could not save it- I am really sorry"- he then explained about the rest of the operation.

And why did he think of the most saddest moment in his life right now- inside he was scolding himself for letting his own deepest sadness overwhelm him- especially on this day that was going so well, on this day when she came home.

And again, impulse or just plain human feeling, Y/N/E walked to Elijah, and they looked at one another for a second and just went into a hug. This was Y/N/E, this amazing human being, that had the gift of compassion, selfless completely and utterly.

_______________

#Elijah Mikaelson #Elijah Mikaelson x reader #ElenaxElijah #tvd fanfiction #Fanfiction #alternative universe

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killervibe · 6 years

Text

Lux et Veritas

Chapter 1: Cisco and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Read Prologue here

Everything was always immaculate here, Cisco thought. How the walls and floors were shining white and polished. The state of the art equipment expensive in a way that had him skittish to touch the first few weeks, afraid of being scolded for using them.

He never was.

The people around him were too busy to take his notice, in their white coats and pencil skirts with heels bustling around him, all doing their jobs, just like Cisco was doing his. And how nice, he thought, getting to do this for real, some day.

Cisco was busy scribbling his signature on the papers, finalizing his last report after the data entry he finished. The lab was near empty, and he glanced around it, committing all the details to memory. He had taken to this lab from the very moment he had been assigned to the department, it had served well this summer as a quiet safe space, a home away from home.

Immersed in his paperwork, Cisco missed the mechanic swish of the automated glass door sliding open, not realizing he had company until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He smiled up at his supervisor, The Dr. Wells. It’s been three months and he still couldn’t believe it.

“Well, it’s three-thirty. You’re done. How does it feel?”

Cisco let go of his pen and sighed wistfully. “Honestly, Sir. Kinda down. I really like it here.”

“I’m glad. You were excellent to work with. I’ve already drafted a glowing recommendation for wherever you choose to pursue your higher education.”

A flush came to his face, and Cisco glanced aside, shy from the praise.

“Thank you, Dr. Wells.”

“No, thank you. Where are you wanting to go to school?”

Cisco opened his mouth to reply when Tess Morgan sidled up to Dr. Wells’s side.

He wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist and she clucked her tongue. “Don’t stress him, Harrison. He still has plenty of time to decide.”

“Well, my girlfriend and I were always planning for an Ivy,” Cisco said. “But I’d also take MIT or Caltech.”

“Engineering, I hope.”

“Yessir.”

Cisco stood up, unclipping his ID. School started tomorrow. Somehow swapping his Star Labs keycard for his old library pass was kind of depressing.

He looked down at it, his laminated card, the serial number they gave him. The picture he had taken on his first day, how he was pretty sure he blinked and yet it still turned out better than any framed Picture Day photograph hanging on the walls at home.

He felt important here. Like he belonged, like someone finally (finally) looked at him and went Yes, you. We like you. You’re good.

Cisco knew he was good, in the back of his mind, front of his mind, whatever. His GPA said so. His report cards said so. Barry said so (Hartley didn't, but who cared about him). Caitlin used to say so. He felt he was good.

Cisco hoped he was good, but was he really? Enough?

Probably not. And still, this taste of a dream, of his future that he so desperately wants to live now already is enough to motivate him to work harder to get it again. Permanently, next time. With his own lab and a desk with his name on it. A degree, a couple of them, with his name in latin script hanging nearby next to a window.

Hold your horses, he told himself. He needed to graduate high school first.

Cisco gave up his ID, handing it to Dr. Wells.

Dr. Wells looked down at the badge, but didn’t say anything for a while.

Tess grinned, “Oh stop with the suspense, look how sad the boy is, just tell him already.”

“What?” Cisco asked, looking back and forth between the scientist and his wife, unfollowing.

“The thing is, Mr. Ramon,” Dr. Wells began, returning the ID, “I’m not sure I want this back. Because the truth is, I’ve grown quite fond of you. And Tess and I were wondering if you’d like to continue shadowing at Star Labs during the Fall. Say, twice a week after school?”

Cisco’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. “You want me to stay?!”

“We’d love to have you, Cisco,” Tess finished, beaming. “What do you say?”

“—I’d have to ask my parents,” he said immediately, and he winced at how juvenile that sounded but was relieved to see the two nod in agreement, “But that would be the best thing I’ve heard all summer.”

“Come back sometime next week, schedule an appointment and we can discuss contracts with a legal consultant, and a guardian of course.”

“Thank you so much!”

Dr. Wells shook his head, shooing him out. “Go. Enjoy your last day of summer vacation.”

~.~

Cisco was on cloud nine when he parked Dante’s car in the guest garage of Caitlin’s estate, bouncing on his heels in the elevator.

He fired off a quick text to tell her he made it in, then bounded for her library where he knew she would be memorizing the course outlines for tomorrow’s schedule. He creeped up behind her where she was reading silently at her desk, still a little off guard at all the tin-foil silver in her hair.

He covered her eyes, kissing her cheek and she dropped her pen. “Guess who?” he murmured.

Cisco removed his hands and she turned her head over her shoulder. “Hi.” Her eyes shined bright and soft, blinking at him with easy cheer. He couldn’t keep it in any longer, the news near busting inside him as he rubbed up and down her bare arms excitedly.

“Guess who’s boyfriend just got offered a Fall placement at Star Labs?”

Caitlin gaped, turning around. “Mine?”

“Yours! And Dr. Wells said he already wrote me a letter of recommendation for college!”

Caitlin squeezed his hand. “That’s amazing, oh my gosh! You deserve it!”

He shared her smile, pulling her up from the chair, and turning on the lights. Why she kept herself hidden in the dark alcove with only a window was beyond him when her house was equipped with the best green energy efficient systems on the market.

Her words spread a warmth in his chest and he wanted to believe them, but still, doubt creeped into his mind. His fingers skimmed over her dark wooden desk, focusing on rearranging her gel pens.

“Do you think so, really? All I was doing was writing notes and doing small lab assignments.”

Caitlin folded her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Stop selling yourself so short. You’re the smartest person I know.”

He looked up at her. "You're not just saying that because I'm your boyfriend so you kinda have to, but really, secretly, like deep down next your dark chocolate obsession you think Lily Stein the smartest?"

Caitlin laughed, swatting his arm like that would smack the silliness out of his head. "I am not obsessed with dark chocolate!"

"Sure you're not," he countered, eyes crinkling when she pressed a kiss to his cheek to distract him from checking her waste paper basket to prove his point.

"Lily's intelligent. Hartley's sharp. But you're my favourite smartypants," she said.

Cisco smirked a little, “You think Hartley got the same offer? Bet he didn’t.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes at Cisco’s ongoing battle with his nemesis, choosing not to comment. “We should celebrate.”

“We should,” he enthused, offering her his arm. She took it, looking at him expectantly. “How about dinner?”

~.~

After food, Cisco took Caitlin to the little dessert shop that overlooked the river. They shared cheesecake and Sprite, clinking each other’s forks.

Caitlin kept looking over at the water, quiet.

She’d been like that, lately, off and on. Like she'd fall into moods where she was afraid to talk.

“Is everything okay?”

She took a moment to respond, scraping cheesecake off the plate. “Fine.”

He gave her a look. Maybe there were things that changed between them. But Cisco will never lose the skill of knowing when she lied. And Caitlin knew that too.

“I’m just—Worried. About school.”

“You love school.”

“I love learning,” she corrected, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t love CC High. Not anymore.”

“That’s fair.”

“I’ve been dreaming about this year since middle school. Starting it with you and applying to college. I’ve wanted to be a doctor for so long. What if I don’t get into a good school?”

Cisco held his tongue. There was zero chance that Caitlin would be rejected from any university, and, to be frank, there was nothing her mother’s money couldn’t buy. She was a shoo in, has been since Freshman year to all the good schools. And even if she weren't a phenomenal student, legacy alone would admit Caitlin into every college her mother’s research was affiliated with.

He thought about Tess Morgan, and echoed her sentiment. “Isn’t it a little early?”

Caitlin looked out at the water again.

He wondered if her mother was pressuring her. He wouldn't be surprised, school was ramping up soon and with that came a tremendous amount of stress after years of all talk. Maybe Dr. T had finally laid down the law, and it was daunting. Cisco assumed it would be, considering the pressure he put on himself, and he didn't even have anyone counting on him to make it. At least, not until he met the Wells family, and their encouragement had never been coercive. Maybe coercive wasn't the right word. Caitlin's mom was...Intense.

“...Is this about Star Labs? Because I can put in a good word about you with Dr. Wells or help you find—“

He watched Caitlin’s face fall, rushing to deny it. “No, no no. It’s not that. I promise. I don’t mind. You don’t have to do that. I just—I left such a mess.”

Cisco reflected on the past year. She was not wrong. But it was not all her fault.

She gave him a sad smile, “I just wish things didn’t have to change.”

Cisco frowned, sensing she was talking about something a little beyond high school. “They don’t. You’re my forever, Caitlin. Nothing has to change, I’m right here.”

She blinked back tears, shrugging. “I just miss...” she went to her locket. The one she’s never taken off since the funeral. The one with his picture in it, hiding under her dad’s.

His face softened as it clicked. He should've known.

He took her hand, kissing it softly.

“I know.”

~.~

Cisco had a Pop-Tart hanging out of his mouth as he dumped all of his things into his old school bag. He ran a brush through his hair a few times, threw on a light jean jacket, and slung the bag over his shoulder. He bit off another gooey piece before banging on the bathroom door.

“Dante, dios!” he shouted over the loud rush of water. He’s been in there for half an hour already.

“The bathroom! I have to go!”

His mom’s voice called from downstairs. “Deja entrar a tu hermano!”

He rattled on the doorknob, but it was locked. He swore under his breath again, checking his watch. “Dude!”

“Bro, calm down, what the fuck,” Dante groused, unlocking the door with a towel around his waist. The steam went billowing out and Cisco almost choked on the intensity of the deodorant spray.

He pushed past Dante, muttering, going for his toothbrush. He paused before sticking it in his mouth with the toothpaste. “Aren’t you late? Don’t you have an 8:30 class?”

His brother rolled his eyes. “Chill. I’m skipping.”

Cisco’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, spitting into the sink.

“You’re skipping?”

Dante rolled his eyes. “Oh my god, you’re such a nerd. It’s not like high school, dumbass. Everyone skips class in college.”

“Is it recorded?”

“No.”

“Do you have friends in your class to take notes from?”

“No.”

“Are you going to work on another class instead?”

“No. I’m going to watch Netflix then probably take another nap before practice with the band.”

Cisco ran his hand through his nicely done hair. “Dante, I don’t understand you.”

Dante walked across the hall to their shared room, pulling on clothes.

“Don’t worry about it. Have a nice day at school. Kiss all the teacher’s asses for me.”

Cisco pulled himself together, breathing in deeply, reminding himself that he loved his brother and wasn’t allowed to smack him while he glared.

“Can I use your car?” he gritted between his teeth as Dante shuffled his hair some, ruining it altogether.

Dante waved him off. “I don’t use that crap anymore. It might as well be yours.”

He was already texting Caitlin that he was coming to pick her up, his eyes glued to his phone as he walked out the front door when his mother pulled him back by the strap of his backpack.

She kissed both his cheeks, pushing a sandwich into his hands. “Don’t break that attendance record. Give Caitlin a kiss for me.”

“Si,” he replied, waving goodbye at his little sister shrieking his name before he jogged down the apartment steps, not bothering to wait for the elevator.

Why’d his place always have to be so hectic?

~.~

Caitlin kissed him after she slammed the car door close, buckling in her seatbelt, grumbling under her breath.

"Mom troubles?"

"Just drive."

Cisco looked in the rearview mirror as he put the Toyota in reverse.

It was windy in a nice crisp September morning way, and Caitlin rolled down the window.

“You look cute,” he said as he drove off her estate.

Caitlin shrugged, “I wear a blazer every first day. It’s tradition.”

“I’ve noticed.”

It fell quiet. Caitlin wasn’t much of a morning person, and it was the first day of the scariest school year they’d face yet. There was too much going on in their minds for riveting conversations.

Cisco took a swig of water at a red light ten minutes later, stuck in the morning rush hour. He swished it in his mouth then swallowed.

“So I was thinking—”

“I was wondering—”

They both stopped.

“You go first,” Caitlin said.

“I was thinking that maybe you should talk to Barry before the bell. Just to get a fresh start. I can come with you.”

Caitlin curled her fingers around her designer bag, some big brand fashion company with lots of consonants like X and Z’s that Cisco could never remember.

“I don’t want to."

Cisco frowned. “But why? Barry isn’t mad at you, Caitlin. He just wants you to come back. He’s our best friend.”

She put her hand on his arm.

“You’re my best friend. You’re the only one I need.”

“So what, I’m stuck in the middle now? Homeroom to lunch with Barry, fourth period to final bell with you? How is that fair?”

“Actually,” she said. “I was thinking maybe we don’t make that big of a deal of it? Like, do people even need to know that we’re together again? Look what happened last time.”

Cisco narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like where this was going. “Caitlin. Everybody loves you. Nobody really loves me. This has already been established after what happened in April. Why does it matter anymore?”

She hesitated, tapping her fingers against the arm rest, leaning her head against the window. “I don’t want you to be a target again.”

“I don’t care,” Cisco said. “It’s just high school crap. I’m hoping we all got it out of our systems junior year. I haven’t kissed you in the hallway for how many months?”

Caitlin smiled down at her lap. “Six.”

Cisco made a disgruntled noise. “Six and a half, actually, but who’s counting?”

“Not me,” she lied.

They shared a glance.

“That’s too long. I’m not letting shitty people with nothing better to do stop me and neither should you.”

“Okay.”

She leaned over and kissed him quickly, then told him the light was green.

~.~

They had four classes together, but not homeroom, so Caitlin and Cisco split ways early on in the morning.

The bell rang, and Professor Stein cleared his throat.

“Welcome students to a bright academic year ahead!”

The class groaned, and Cisco shared an amused glance with Iris.

She leaned in, “Why does he say that every year?”

Cisco grimaced. “Fourth time’s the charm?”

Professor Stein told everyone to settle down as he took attendance, handed out the dozens of photocopied papers that needed their parents’ signatures and read the announcements. Soon enough, the bell rang, and they all got up to get to their first classes of the day.

Iris strapped her messenger bag over her shoulder. She wasn’t in the science stream, so this would be their only time together until humanities and AP English, which they didn’t have today.

“See you at lunch?”

“Yeah,” he said, then thought of something. “Can you keep an eye out for Caitlin? I’m just—Not sure what she’s thinking she’s going to do.”

“You mean with Lexi.”

He quirked an eyebrow. Students were starting to come in, so Cisco hurried out, grabbing Iris by the hand as the hallways started to flood. “You don’t like her either.”

Iris laughed callously, and they walked to their lockers. “Hell no.”

“Oh thank god,” he breathed, trying to keep up with her quick pace. “I just don’t understand why she won't try to fix things. You haven’t said anything to her, have you? You two aren't fighting?”

Cisco watched Iris hang her coat up. “No,” she said. “Fighting? We're not even talking. Don’t get me wrong. I was pissed last year. What she did was awful.”

He felt the need to defend her, when he knew he probably shouldn’t. Iris must’ve saw the look on his face and rolled her eyes.

“No need to get all Caitlin Snow protection squad on me. I don’t hold grudges like that. I came to the funeral, didn’t I?”

Patty and Linda showed up, tugging Iris away. “Hey, gotta jet, but I’ll try, okay? I’ll do some digging for you. Shawna’s pretty easy to squeeze.”

Cisco wanted to thank her, but she was too far gone, giggling with her friends.

He sighed, standing in the middle of the hall. Without even a second longer to breathe, Jake Puckett barged into him. “Watch it, mosquito.”

“We’re back to that, Jake? Really?” Cisco yelled after him, still getting jostled as the crowd of students thickened in the tight corridor.

Puckett continued his taunting. “You look like a girl. Why don’t you get a haircut?”

“Maybe my girl likes it long dipshit,” he shot back. “Not like you’d know what that’s like.”

That sent Cisco flying into the lockers.

“I deserved that one,” he muttered to himself, trying not to wince at the way the metal hinges dug into his back. He dropped his folder when he hit the wall, his green permission slips about emergency contact information and school behavioural contracts now getting stepped on by careless idiots he called classmates.

He darted between people in the crowd to get them back, annoyed that nobody cared to help him. Then, annoyed that he expected this shit to change now that he was a Senior in the first place.

Just one more year. One more year, Cisco uttered under his breath like a mantra, falling into his ethics class’ front row seat just on time.

Their teacher started sprouting some stupid idea about going around and introducing themselves, as if everybody hasn’t already known each other since elementary.

“Hi? Um, my name is Brie Larvan. And I want to be a beekeeper.”

Cisco rubbed his temples, his mantra intensified.

~.~

By lunch, Cisco was waiting by Caitlin’s locker.

He saw her walk out of history with Lexi and Shawna. She paused at seeing him, her eyes going a little wide.

“Cisco, what are you doing?” she said, looking nervously at Lexi and Shawna, who had their arms crossed with identical bitch faces.

“Lunch?”

“Like, disappear mosquito. She doesn’t want lunch with you.”

Caitlin frowned, opening her locker. She put a new textbook into a top shelf and grabbed her lunch box. “We don't call my boyfriend that. Yes, I do want lunch with him.”

She took Cisco’s hand, and he rose an eyebrow at Shawna, a smidge too smug.

“Sorry ladies, later.”

"Your boyfriend?" Shawna repeated, jaw dropping open.

Lexi gasped. “Caity!”

He felt her tension just by the way she held his hand. “I’ll see you in class, I’m still sitting next to you in art, just like we promised, right?”

Lexi’s smile looked a little off kilter. “Of course. Right. See you there, then. Have fun with...Cisco.”

Cisco, who had been trying to look anywhere but Lexi, eventually met her gaze.

She gave him a look, sucking lipstick off her teeth. It sent a chill down his spine, and he had forgotten (really, no, he hasn't, he really hasn't) how much he hated her.

She arched an eyebrow high in the air, like she was challenging him to acknowledge her. But Cisco didn't play her games.

He pulled Caitlin away, lacing their fingers together.

~.~

Cisco let Caitlin drag him far from Barry’s table without putting up a fight. In fact, they weren’t even eating in the cafeteria. They sat in the courtyard, watching the soccer team tryouts as Caitlin opened her packed box from her chef.

It was a nice day. Caitlin really did look gorgeous in her burgundy blazer and pleated skirt. It suited her, that classy uniform chic, and for the first time a thought occurred to him that struck odd. Caitlin belonged in a private school. One with 4.0 cut-offs, loads of legacy families, and a hundred thousand dollars for tuition. Dr. T letting her daughter stay in Central City to go to public school was a bit weird. She didn’t really belong here.

Cisco picked at dandelions as they talked, wondering why the grass was so unkept.

About twenty minutes in, Caitlin gave him a sly look.

Cisco looked up from his lunch, knowing that expression all too well. “If you’re going to kiss me, please let me finish my chicken first or else I never will, and I’m really hungry.”

She ignored him completely, prying the plastic container out of his hands. “Hey missy, I said I wasn’t— Mmmph!”

He missed this. He missed her. This Caitlin. His Caitlin.

It was like all the darkness swarming underneath her surface dissipated, and her true light was shining through.

He laughed as she climbed into his lap to kiss him more. They could get demerit points for this, and that heightened the sense of thrill. If they got caught it would be so worth it.

A shrill whistle pierced through the air and the two sprang apart. There was a foul on the soccer field.

“Still hungry?” she smirked with mirth, wiping the rest of her smudged lip gloss off.

He played with her silvery hair. “Um, yes,” he flirted, catching Caitlin’s heated gaze. “Famished.”

“Good thing I’m here then,” she murmured.

“Yes,” he agreed, inching closer. “Very good,” and slipped his tongue in her mouth.

They made out until the bell.

~.~

Outside was beautiful and peaceful. Cisco started to understand why Caitlin brought him out there.

“Oh my god, Caitlin! Over here!” Lisa shouted at the door, gesturing wildly at her to come back into the side entrance of school. “Hi Cisco!”

“Hey Lisa.”

Lisa Snart. She was something else, that one. Cute, in a dumb like a rock kind of way.

Maybe that was mean.

Lexi appeared over Lisa’s shoulder. "Come on, Caitlin! We’re going to be late!”

He got up with a sigh, and gave his girlfriend a hand. She took it, hers slender and soft in his, and didn’t let go.

They began walking towards Caitlin’s new posse.

“Why are they so possessive? It’s unnerving,” he couldn’t help but blurt out.

“It’s not me. It’s you. They think—”

“I know what they think,” he snapped, cross. As did everybody, no doubt. Cisco kicked at a littered soda can. “Tell them I didn’t.”

“I tried! They won’t believe me!”

“Then ditch them. It’s not that hard.”

She turned to him sympathetically, kissing him one last time.

“I can’t, Cisco. They’re my friends. I like them.” She untangled their fingers.

“No, you don’t.”

“I do,” she insisted. “Stop saying things as if you’re me. I’m me. If they’re my friends then I’m not lying and you have to understand that.”

Cisco felt properly chastened. He took a step back, quiet. “Okay.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you later.”

Lisa and Lexi took to each of Caitlin’s sides, linking their arms together. Only Lisa looked back.

~.~

“Where were you? You dipped lunch. Iris said you’d be there.”

It was the second to last period of the day, and it just had to be gym, didn’t it?

Cisco ducked at the incoming fire of dodgeballs. “Yeah, sorry. Caitlin wanted to eat outside.”

A ball rolled to a stop beside him. He picked it up and chucked it, barely getting it past the midline.

The one class he and Barry weren’t good at. So what.

“You mean she didn’t want to eat with me.”

Cisco stopped, looking around. His team was going to lose no matter what.

“I think she’s just really embarrassed. Give her some time.”

“Time?” Barry exclaimed, nearly getting hit in the face. “It’s been almost half a year! I miss her so bad. She’s in my geography class and she sat next to Bad Luck Becky instead of me.”

“Dude, watch out!”

“Huh?” Barry spun around in the wrong direction, and Cisco cringed as Barry got hit in the back by Woodworth, officially out.

Cisco followed him to the bench, not caring to even pretend he was playing anymore.

“What’s her deal?”

Cisco wrung his hands. “I don’t know. Her dad, I think. It shook her hard, and we weren’t there for her.”

Barry’s fingers were calming on his shoulder, unlike Dante’s, and different from Armando’s.

“Don’t beat yourself up about that. She pushed us away.”

It was easy for Barry to say that. Barry the best friend, their happy third wheel. It wasn’t the same for Cisco. Cisco, who had offered to pick Caitlin up when she fell down the slide in the first grade, who she had won the regional science fair with in grade 3, who she first told when they were ten that her dad was sick, really sick, and I really need a hug.

Barry was always there and supportive and the best friend, but he had Iris. Before him came Cisco and Caitlin. They were a duo, a package deal, each other’s forever.

Even if she pushed him away, even if she hurt him. She never meant to, just as hurt and twice as lonely.

“She needed me and I wasn’t there until it was too late. Now she doesn’t know who to trust.”

Barry reached for his water bottle, taking a long sip.

“So she trusts LaRoche? She knows what she did to you, doesn’t she?”

It was humiliating just thinking about it.

Cisco shook his head. “She only knows that I tutored her for the SATs.”

Three thumps on the back was what it took for Barry to stop coughing, spluttering water everywhere.

“You need to tell Caitlin. ”

“No. Drop it. And don’t tell Iris either.”

“But—”

Coach Adam’s bullhorn blew sharply, interrupting them both.

“— Allen! Back on the court! Don’t make me give you another C!”

~.~

The last class of the day was math with Professor Stein. Cisco had it with Caitlin, and they sat in the front row, scribbling notes furiously to keep up with their teacher’s enthusiastic ramblings. When the final bell rang, Professor Stein called them both to stay behind.

“I’ve got something for my 4.0 lovebirds.”

He leaned behind his desk for two thick envelopes and deposited one in each one's hands.

Caitlin tore hers open quickly, curiosity getting to the best of her. A stack of viewbooks from prestigious schools were freshly pressed, smelling like new paper.

“Straight from the guidance counsellor's office. They’re not yet out on rotation, you see, but I figured my overachieving students wanted a first peak.”

“Oh wow,” Caitlin replied, already looking into the Harvard one. “These have the updated statistics.”

“Of course, my dear.”

Cisco leafed through the schools in his selection, pausing at MIT, eyes lingering on rolling green hills of its campus.

Professor Stein pointed at Cisco. “And how was your internship at Star Labs?”

“The greatest. They want me to continue twice after school.”

“Really now? That’s quite remarkable.”

“Isn’t it?” Caitlin smiled, proud of him. Cisco blushed. “I told him so.”

There was a knock at the door, and Shawna appeared. “Caitlin we need you right now. It’s an emergency.”

Caitlin looked to Cisco.

“I thought I was driving you home. We could look at these together.”

“We really need you, Caity. Becky’s crying. I can drive you home.”

“Tomorrow,” Caitlin promised, squeezing his shoulder, then thanked Professor Stein again for the viewbooks.

Cisco tugged on her blazer for a goodbye kiss, reluctant to let her go. She leaned in, her fingers delicate on his face, smiling against his lips.

Shawna stomped a little, rolling her eyes, “Can we go?”

“One minute,” Caitlin said, looking into his eyes. “We’ll go over our favourite schools tomorrow?”

He raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards. “It’s a date.”

She grabbed her bag and the envelope, then followed Shawna out the door.

Cisco watched Caitlin scurry after Shawna, who was stomping away in her spiked combat boots.

“I’m glad that whatever squabble you two had seems to be put behind you.”

Cisco turned to their teacher, unashamed that he witnessed him smitten.

“Me too.”

Professor Stein had always been perceptive and easily approachable. Cisco had gone to him in times of trouble in the past four years plenty.

Cisco sat on a desk as Professor Stein tidied up, reflecting. “Sir, how do you help someone through grief?”

His teacher took off his glasses, cleaning them with the edge of his shirt before he responded. “This is about the passing of Dr. Snow?”

Everyone knew. He supposed they had to, not only because Caitlin’s dad had been an active donor and contributor to the restructuring of Central City High’s science stream, but because Cisco guessed it was required for her teachers to take special attention.

“She’s just not the same.”

“She won’t be,” he advised, firm yet gentle. “She lost one of the most important figures in her life.”

The only figure, Cisco thought bitterly, thinking about Dr. T’s suspicious absence in Caitlin’s life. It always made him scratch his head, how two people who lived in the same house could avoid and ignore each other for so long.

If Cisco could avoid Dante, he would.

Maybe it was a matter of the size of the house.

“I want to be there for her, but sometimes I feel like she’s pushing me away. Do I give her that space? Should I be persistent? Love is hard,” Cisco groaned after his monologue, flopping against the row of desks as if he were in a therapist’s office, not his math class. His teacher chuckled at him.

“Ah, but is your affection for Miss Snow difficult to muster? It takes effort for you to demonstrate your care?”

“No,” Cisco protested. “No, that’s easy.”

Professor Stein tapped on his shoes, asking him to get them off the desks.

Cisco's legs swung over the side obediently, and he sat back up.

Professor Stein tilted his head, and Cisco was alarmed to realize how his favourite teacher’s hair was beginning to grey.

Maybe that’s what made him stand out. After teaching as a professor and publishing his books, he came back to a high school to teach kids because he cared about them. Cisco didn't think he could do that. Lily was really lucky to have him as a dad.

“I know you love her Mr. Ramon. Patience is virtue. You’re astute for a young man of your age. Show her that love the best you can.”

That sounded about right.

“Yessir.”

“Now go home, enjoy those viewbooks.”

Cisco tucked the envelope under his arm, and took his advice.

~.~

Cisco was leafing through the glossy pages of Duke’s viewbook at the kitchen table, trying to concentrate through the constant keyboard banging leaking through the adjacent wall. He wasn’t allowed to ask Dante to be quiet, not even when he had to study and it was one of his pet peeves.

Don’t disturb him, Mama would always say, but his keyboard had an ear jack? Cisco had bought Dante a good quality headset a year and a half ago, thinking it would be a great gift to them both.

Dante didn’t use them, Cisco bet the wrapping was still on the box, buried somewhere in their closet considering he’s never seen them and it’s not like their room was very big. So who was the one really being unnecessarily disturbed?

How their neighbours haven't come pounding on their front door yet begging for silence was a mystery to him.

He was just getting into the gritty details of the application requirements when Rosita peered up at him on her tiptoes. Her ten little fingers gripped the table, eyes barely making it past the edge as she pushed herself up to see what Cisco was looking at.

“What are you doing?”

“Leyendo,” he said absentmindedly, showing her the bright graphs. She didn’t reply, and he looked down, how she had zero reaction, then forgot she was still fuzzy on verbs. Forgot that she couldn’t even read yet.

“Reading,” he translated. “For college. See? This is in North Carolina.”

“You’re leaving?” her voice wobbles, thick with hurt. “Like ‘Mando?”

Armando’s been gone at Cleveland State for two years, majoring in business. Cisco’s surprised sometimes that Ro even remembers their oldest brother.

“Not right away. But next year, yeah.”

Cisco didn’t see the big deal. He felt Rosita was pretty lucky, getting the apartment practically to herself. Cisco would have loved to be left alone growing up, not constantly stuck rubbing shoulders with the six people crammed into their three bedroom apartment with nowhere to breathe. But Caitlin and Barry both said growing up as an only child was lonely, wishing for siblings. Cisco wouldn’t know.

“Why?”

“Because I want to go to school, like the one you’re going to start tomorrow,” he explained. He glanced down at the entrance requirements and chuckled at his own analogy. “Except this isn’t kindergarten.”

There was just enough room for Rosita to squeeze onto his seat. He patted the space, and she climbed up with a little "oof” until their thighs were pressed together.

He read to her what was on the page just to keep her busy. It was the pictures she was interested in anyways.

“Where’s Mama?” he asked after a while. They had moved on from Duke to Stanford. Their dad still wasn’t home from work either, but he wouldn’t be, he usually wasn’t at this time.

Rosita shrugged her shoulders and Cisco rolled his eyes at himself, wondering why he expected the five year old of the house to have all the answers.

He slid off the chair, noticing the way she was droopy, her messy black curly hair spilling against the table as she leaned her head against it.

“Did you have a snack?”

She rolled her head from side to side with a whine. Cisco took that for a no.

He pulled out a fruit roll-up from the kitchen, ignoring Caitlin’s voice in the back of his head warning about high fructose.

After seeing to it that she’s good with opening the wrapper, Cisco knocked loudly on the doorframe of his and Dante’s room. “Where’s Mama?”

Dante kept playing, ignoring him. Cisco marched right over to the outlet and unplugged the keyboard.

“Hey!”

“Yo Beethoven. Were you supposed to be taking care of Rosita? Because I came home to her climbing the curtains, Dante.”

His brother waved him off, “She’s fine.”

“She was hungry.”

Dante glanced up at the clock on the wall.

“Mama went grocery shopping. We’re going to have dinner soon anyways.”

“Not for another few hours, I wasn’t supposed to be home this early. You can’t leave her alone like that she’s too young, and Mama expects us watch her!”

Dante banged his fist against the quiet keys, and Cisco had to keep a straight face at how that looked. “Stop fucking lecturing me, I’m older than you!”

“By a year,” Cisco scoffed. “Don’t go on about being 18 if you won’t even act like an adult.”

“Yeah, because you want to be an adult so bad, Cisco, don’t you? It’s just a number it doesn’t make you older.”

Not for the first time, Cisco found himself missing Armando. Things were easier with Dante when he was around, how he was practical like Dante yet level-minded like himself.

The door slammed loud behind him, frustrated. Dante was Dante. What was he to do? At least he got his car.

Cisco took his stack of books to the living room, wiping off Rosita’s sticky fingerprints from off the Stanford cover and got really interested in Harvard’s crimson booklet.

By dinner, he was excited, sprouting out campus facts as his dad asked to pass the bowl of vegetables.

Rosita kicked her legs in her seat beside him, happily munching away on the roast beef.

“Dude, just. Shut up,” Dante said with his mouth full after Cisco went on a, self-admitting, spiel about Stanford’s aeronautics engineering program.

Cisco narrowed his eyes, defending himself. “I have to apply by November for early admissions. That's two months away. We're talking about my future here.”

His mom and dad shared a look, one Cisco couldn’t decipher. He put his fork down, sensing dread.

“What? I told you, my SAT scores are really high. Maybe not Harvard okay, but MIT, UPenn, I think I have a real shot.”

It went quiet, it was uncomfortable and Cisco felt nervous, like he was the butt of a big joke.

“What?”

“Get that Ivy League crap out of your head, we can’t afford it.”

His mother gasped, hitting his father’s arm.

Cisco looked to Dante, who had his glass paused halfway to his lips.

“What Papa means is we know you talk big plans with tu novia, but where will the money for that come from?”

The words were faint, Cisco feeling a rush in his ears as his mind began to race, trying to compute. "Mama, I don't understand.”

“Those schools sound very expensive, Cisco.”

This couldn’t be happening, he pushed his plate away, sick to his stomach. “Two years ago you said you had money put away for me.”

“That was before Dante changed his mind about CCU music. And it was never going to be enough for what you’re talking about. We were already tight with Armando’s tuition.”

Dante coughed, nearly choking on the food, startled. “Mama,” he gaped, after a giant swallow of water. “¿Su dinero?”

“He is older, Cisco,” his dad replied, and it was condescending, felt cold like ice down Cisco’s back. “If you want a fancy college you’ll need a job, maybe two. You might have good grades for CC High, but for a full scholarship where everyone is smart? Be realistic, Mijo.”

Cisco’s eyes were stinging, blurring as the weight of their words washed over him, and he was so unprepared, so unbalanced to hear that news, it knocked him over, and now he felt like was going to drown.

"You don't think I'm good enough?"

"That's not what we're saying," his mother corrected, "But we do believe your aspirations are out of tune."

Out of tune. Giving all his college money away to his ungrateful brother, permitting him to Netflix in his room under the guise of studying composition, was out of tune.

He stood up abruptly, not able to stomach any more.

“You used my money on Dante? Dante? Who doesn’t even show up for school? Have I not been clear since I was twelve how much I wanted this?”

Rosita burst into tears at the volume of his voice, covering her ears. His mother ran to Rosita.

It wasn’t Rosita’s fault. It wasn’t. She was just a child. She was little, but somehow the way his mother ran to her and picked her up adoringly, soothing her whimpering was the last straw, twisting something in Cisco until it bent and snapped.

“You care for everyone in this house but me!”

“Francisco.”

“It’s true!” he cried, and maybe it wasn't, but his world was imploding, and this wasn't his fault, Cisco didn't do anything to deserve this.

He swiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his jean jacket, furious, “You never listen, you never care, you don’t know anything about what I want or am going through, even when I say it. It’s all about Dante or Rosita. You didn’t even care that I was chosen for Star Labs’ internship, how big of an accomplishment that was for me. Or that Caitlin’s papa died!”

“You were at Star Labs?” his father questioned, sliding his glasses up his nose. “Dante did you know this?”

His mother tore her gaze from his sister, stunned. “Dr. Snow?”

Even his parents were out of tune with each other. Out of tune, they said about him going to an Ivy, about becoming an engineer, he still processing it, outraged. Cisco wanted to throw up.

Dante spoke up. “Papa of course I knew he wouldn’t shut up about it. He was gone every day.”

Dante was defending him for once, probably guilty, and he should be, Cisco thought, but that wasn't enough.

He was on a roll, unable to stop yelling, “Armando got everything he wanted! Dante gets anything he asks for, no questions! A motorcycle, he goes and you're all oh, sure Dante, here you go, only pay half. Then he says, Haha surprise, I want to go to college after all, and so you go sure, let us deplete our youngest son's college funds!"

Even Rosita quieted, staring at Cisco.

"What?" she said, voice full of innocence.

His face crumpled, but he refused to break in front of them. "I worked so damn hard, and I get nothing?”

“It is not nothing,” his father scolded in Spanish. “CCU is a fine school, Francisco. You are just prejudiced. Caitlin is a fine girl, but her privilege has gone to your head.”

“That’s not true,” Cisco snapped back, switching languages smoothly. “This has nothing to do with Caitlin. Mama, tell him.”

She lowered her gaze, fussing again with Rosita’s plate, without replying.

His parents’ quietness was all the confirmation Cisco needed. A dark chuckle, more like a huff from a pushed out exhale escaped him, and he shook his head.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, looking at the faces of his family. He didn’t even want to be here anymore.

“Well, since I got your attention,” he spat, “I was offered a placement at Star Labs for the Fall for after school. I need a parent to sign the contract with me.”

“¿Se paga?” Is it paid? Mama said.

After all that.

Cisco choked on his answer, already imagining what they were going to say. “No.”

“You’ll have to choose then, what you want more.”

Was this what it felt like? To see his entire future hanging by a thin, loose, unravelling thread? Cisco shouldn’t have to choose. Star Labs was his ticket out of here. Out of this mess, the one outstanding point on his application which would give him those scholarships, that admission.

But his parents didn't understand, and they won't.

And that's what was worse. It was not the lack of money, or that they gave it to Dante (even though that cut deep, and Cisco wasn't quite sure it was something he could ever forgive). He knew that they weren't wealthy, that they were four kids and still not even in a house. But they made it work for their children, set up this illusion, this fake fantasy land Cisco had been living in for years and watched him entangle himself deeply there, plant roots in it, and still never bothered to come clean and correct him.

They watched him grow up and fall in love with math and science--and Caitlin, and get his glowing letters from his teachers and still think the idea of him going away to one of the country's best schools was silly. Childish, like one of Rosita's make believe stories.

How could they see him, see what he's willing to sacrifice, how hard he'll work, has worked, and still be so confident that Cisco was wasting his time?

“I’m going to sleepover at Barry’s,” Cisco announced, too upset to look them in the eye. Too angry to wait and listen to their reply. To be given permission to leave.

They were way past granting him permission to do things anymore, in his books.

Dante tried to pull him back when he passed by, uttered his name, but Cisco pushed, shoving his brother out of his path with a hard glare, poisoned with fiery pain, daring him to say another word.

He didn't wait for the elevator of the building to make it to their floor, just ran down the spiralling steps, all at once, and fled.

~.~

Cisco called Caitlin twice but it went to voicemail. He banged his head against the steering wheel in the humid, sticky old car with the rusted paint and broken AC, keys still in the engine, motor running, stalled in the apartment parking lot, and cried loud ugly sobs.

~.~

Dr. Allen didn’t question why he had to double his pancake recipe in the morning, just ruffled Cisco’s hair and called him and Barry sluggers, and for that Cisco was grateful.

Cisco parted ways with Barry on the Allen's front steps, after he got pulled in for a hug.

"We'll look at options, okay? Jobs and stuff." Barry cracked a smile. "Maybe we can wait tables together."

"You'd do that for me?" Cisco, asked, pleasantly surprised.

Barry nodded. "I could use some extra cash, to take Iris out and stuff. You want to walk to her house with me?"

Cisco nodded to the Toyota. "Nah, I told Caitlin I'd pick her up this year now that I have the car. I'll see you in school."

~.~

Cisco sat in his driver's seat, tapping his fingers against the dashboard, still dreary, exhausted, and weighed down, but, hopeful to see the one person who would be sure to make him feel better.

Minutes clocked by and his hope turned to worry, and he wrestled with the idea of unbuckling his seatbelt to see what was wrong.

Because something was wrong. Caitlin was late. And she's never been late in all the years that he knew her.

She was late and so he was just as relieved as surprised when Dr. T knocked on his window, after walking briskly down her house's long driveway.

He rolled it down, frowning. “Is Caitlin sick?”

“She already left with her driver,” she informed. “She made it clear that she didn’t want to see you.”

It was like being dunked in cold water.

“What?”

“Get to school, Francisco.”

Cisco grabbed his phone in the glove compartment, about to call her, not above believing Carla Tannhauser pulling a fast one on him (she never did exactly like him, but this would've been cruel) when the text came through.

❤ Caitlin ❤ : We're breaking up.

#the flash #cisco x caitlin #killervibe #the flash fic #tkv fic #lux et veritas #thatkillervibe fic #ch 1

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technicolorfamiliar · 6 years

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The Artist vs Social Media

I have been sharing my feelings about art and its ever-growing relationship to social media with a number of people recently. I wrote a bit about it here some months ago, but that was primarily focused on reactions to different types of art I was posting on different platforms. Without a doubt, it’s been something that’s given me pause for a while, and I have a suspicion I can’t be the only person that feels this way.

To be clear: this is not meant to be an attack on the people who enjoy and excel at being a creative on social media. It is purely an expression of my own frustration, a cry out to others who have struggled with the same issues, because I know I’m not alone.

First of all, my personal style just doesn’t compliment a successful social media presence, I’m such a fan of the long-format, in general. I don’t want anything in my life to be bite-sized, cropped, or condensed. I struggle to convey the concepts teeming in my heart in a limited number of characters and pixels. As I am evolving as an artist, I enjoy incorporating many layers of meaning, drawing on a multitude of sources for inspiration. Social media, for the most part, wants to condense, compartmentalize, limit. It’s short-format, lacks fluidity, and promotes shorter attention spans. It feels counterintuitive to the kind of art I love and the art I want to be making.

For as streamlined and easy as social media has made sharing artwork with the great big world out there, it’s also birthed a lot of additional anxiety and despair. At least that’s been my experience. Some people have taken to social media like ducks to water, they are thriving in an endless stream of posts and pictures and stories. But this particular artmaker finds the rise of social media more like an impossible mountain, and climbing it is a requirement.

I envy the artists and makers who have figured out how to hack social media in order to promote their work and their brand. These people make it look easy, like social media integration with one’s art practice is as simple as breathing. I understand how it is crucial now as any kind of artist to have a big social media presence. But despite that understanding, I still have a lot of issues with it.

I was in art school in the still relatively early days of Instagram. Facebook and Twitter were big, but I didn’t really ever get too deeply involved in either platform. For me, Facebook was mostly for staying in touch with friends and family back home. I didn’t even have a smart phone until some time after I graduated. The school I attended encouraged us to build a website, get a business card, but there was no way to prepare us for the expansion of these apps among others that would emerge later on. This is not a sorry attempt at an excuse for my complicated relationship with social media, because there are a lot of artists in their early 30s right now who are very clearly doing well in that arena.

Circa 2009 – 2011, using social media for networking was beginning to be a real thing to consider. Having a Facebook page and separate Instagram and Twitter accounts devoted to your craft in addition to your website and blog in order to reach all possible professional connections was increasingly important. And now, they are all absolutely essential. People think you must be kidding yourself if you’re making art and don’t have a social media presence. I’ve caught myself being judgmental of young artists who aren’t on social media. But then I’m reminded of my own issues with Facebook and Instagram and all the others and I think maybe I should shut my mouth.

—

That’s the background. The real thing I’m trying to say is this:

Social media is exhausting.

I hate it.

For all the good content being generated and shared on FB, IG, etc there are a thousand mentally and emotionally draining posts being shared by people who, by and large, aren’t on social media to promote their craft. And that’s fine, people should have a place to vent their frustrations, laugh at funny or un-funny memes, share recipes and cute animal videos, get 100+ validating reactions to their photos, post thoughts/criticisms/ideas too long for Twitter but too short for a blog…

But to expect an artist generating original content to compete with everything else being blasted on every social media platform is complete and utter unrealistic nonsense.

—

My big, huge, major beef with social media is the totally insane decision to stop having posts featured in chronological order on pretty much every major platform. This really hurts creative people who are trying to get exposure, share their work to the world (or at least their friends and followers), and requires them to generate even more content, or share the same post over and over again in the hopes that their painting or photo or video somehow makes it over all the other posts from everybody else that are only just so much noise. Trying to get noticed or share your work with likeminded creatives you don’t already know is like shouting in a canyon full of other people shouting, drowned out by all the other voices and the echoes of the voices.

But that’s not the only thing about social media that keeps me up at night.

There are people on social media who have become experts in making their lives look like perfect, magical journeys of self discovery and growth and good fortune. Seeing their perfectly composed, perfectly lit photos of what is supposedly their daily lives, their brunches, their cocktails, their pets, their clothes, their travels, their significant others, and whatever else makes me want to not even try. Why should I even bother to try to compete with that? Looking at those kinds of posts immediately makes me feel inferior because 1) I’m not living that theoretically beautiful, charmed life, and 2) I’m not generating masses of content like that of my own experience. I look at my weird little life and there’s hardly anything photo- or post-worthy, at least not on a daily basis, not enough to get above everyone else’s noise. When did having a social media presence become an art form in and of itself? One of my very close friends described social media as performance art, which is probably the best description of this phenomenon I’ve ever heard. I’m not saying it’s not hard work — in order to project this perfect life, you have to be a photographer, or at least know and/or have the money to pay for one, be a master of self-marketing, and you have to set aside the time in your day to make the posts (more on that in a bit). But as someone with at least half a brain, I know that the content being gobbled up by glowing, supportive friends and followers is only a version of reality.

I know I’m not the only one who feels utterly alienated by the “perfect lives” being presented on social media, and I know that it’s not most people’s intention to alienate their friends by posting gorgeous photographs and positive affirmations of their own journeys.

And yet, even just thinking about it is exhausting. It’s a destructive and deadly combination of self-loathing and self-doubt inspired by the vast majority of what I see on Facebook and Instagram with knowing full well that those feelings are totally unfounded since the posts are not a true reflection of reality. It doesn’t motivate me, it doesn’t inspire me to follow their lead, it doesn’t get my blood pumping. It just makes me tired.

—

By my nature, I am a relatively private person. I have no real desire to share my private life with strangers, and it’s a struggle for me to open up to acquaintances. I have a hard time talking about myself, my dreams and aspirations, my needs and wants with other people. I keep to myself, I have a small circle of close friends and family with whom I share things openly.

There’s nothing like the gut-wrenching feeling you get when you’re talking passionately about your art or your interests or your hopes for the future with someone and seeing the very moment their eyes glaze over with disinterest. It’s a special kind of soul-crushing dismissal that has lead me to live an introvert’s life. Because why, after all, would I share anything with people when that’s the reaction I often got in my youth when sharing with my peers?

The whole grand purpose of social media is to share. Share everything and share often. Artists who hold regular jobs and don’t have an abundance of free time or energy to devote to generating social media content on top of the art they’re already making need to find that magical balance. The Buzzfeed article about burnout that was circulating a few months ago touches on this a bit. Work + Art + Self Promotion. That’s always been the case for artists looking to make a profit off their work, but now it’s on a whole other level and puts creatives in direct competition with social media influencers and everyone else on FB, IG, Twitter, Tumblr, Snapchat, etc. When I say time and energy, I mean the lack of energy I personally have after a working a job that already requires me to use my creativity, strategy, and organizational skills. When I get home or when I finish a job, I want to recharge so I can have the energy and motivation to actually sit in my studio and make new art. I struggle with budgeting out my time and energy for taking photos, writing cute little descriptions, thinking up clever hashtags, and setting timers to remind me when to post in order to get the most views.

I’m over-focused right now on making the art, in finding my voice as an illustrator, in re-vamping my portfolio and considering the future of my practice. I would need a personal assistant to run my social media accounts in an effective and professional way, and I don’t understand how other artists don’t have assistants. Or maybe they do. At the very least it would require me to have my phone in my hand far more than I already do, so another reason to keep it on me, especially in my studio while I’m in the zone, working, makes me feel gross.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “But Emma… you took all this time to write and edit this long blog post. Surely you could have used that time to work on content for your IG or FB accounts.” And you would be right. However, I’m in a place mentally and emotionally where I see the social media game, I understand it, but I just don’t want to play it. Not the way we’re all expected to if we want to get noticed. I’m not a performance artist, I’m not extroverted enough, my process doesn’t lend itself to this new gold standard of being an artist in the 21st century. Am I making big strides to change my process? Not really, because the very nature of social media feels inauthentic to me and the work I want to be making.

—

In the end… I don’t really know how to make social media work for me and my own journey as an artist. It would be great if there was some compromise, some middle path for people like me who are rubbed the wrong way by hashtags and stories and filters. Is there even a possibility for existing any other way as an artist today? Because everyone I know who creates any kind of art seems to have accepted and figured out the key to doing well on social media. It’s almost not even worth airing my grievances since I’m not willing to completely change and conform to something that does not feel right to me.

I’ll just keep plugging along as I have been until I figure it out. Or some kind souls who have been through a similar conundrum swoop in and offer their wisdom and insight.

#my writing #art vs social media #long post

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shadowreine · 6 years

Text

The Art of Falling in Love - Chapter 4

Fandom: Mystic Messenger

Pairing: V x MC (reader/custom MC)

Chapter Summary: In which MC has a chat with some of the boys.

Note: Finally an update! October was kind of a busy/stressful month, so I apologize for the wait. Thanks so much to everyone who’s been reading/liking/commenting on this fic so far. It means a lot to me. <3

Chapter 4: Candid

Once you returned to your apartment after dinner, you were ready to finally collapse into your bed and sleep, especially after such a long, eventful day. However, sleep eluded you. You lay wide awake, tossing and turning, your mind running at a million miles a second. You thought about the party, what went well and what didn’t, and what suggestions for improvements you could posit to RFA. You thought about the GCA and made a mental checklist of all the paperwork you had to submit in order to obtain a visa for working abroad…which brought to mind the fact that even before you could start that step in the process, you needed to stop procrastinating on working on your lesson plans for the upcoming semester—which was two weeks away, no less—and you needed to do a good job. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be needing a work visa at all. You let out a groan in the darkness of your bedroom, knowing that these anxious thoughts would never let you rest.

Ever since Hana had suggested your class could focus on art this semester, you couldn’t shake the idea. It was a good idea, and you were very low on ideas at the moment. The only problem was that you never really considered art as one of your strong suits, so you didn’t think you could excel at teaching it… But Hana was right, children love doing art. Maybe she was also right about asking Jihyun for a little help…

“Jihyun, Jihyun…” you said out loud, testing out the name. “Jihyun…”

V was a punchy name, short and straightforward. It was a good moniker for a hip photographer. But Jihyun was soft, almost a whisper, a pleasant sound sliding off the tip of your tongue. Now that you thought about it, it suited him better than V ever did.

Part of you regretted declining his offer to have dinner with him because you didn’t know when you’d have the chance to see him in person again. You imagined he’d be busy trying to get resettled into the city. He’d likely want to find a new place to stay. Maybe he wanted to meet up with others he might’ve lost contact with. He’d probably be caught up doing his own thing for a while, and you’d rejected your only chance to catch up with him.

Though, you couldn’t have just canceled on Hana. You had responsibilities, you had your own life. You had to make compromises. Wasn’t that adulthood? You couldn’t just drop everything because someone from your past decided to turn up again.

But… you just really wanted to see him.

You let out a sigh and turned onto your side, frustrated that your thoughts were keeping you awake. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and checked the time. It was half past midnight.

Might as well check the messenger, you thought. Throughout the evening you’d received RFA app notifications, but you hadn’t been able to check any before now. Opening the app, you logged in and read the past chat logs. Only Zen and Yoosung had been there. Zen had entered the chatroom sometime after he finished his show, and Yoosung was taking a break from LOLOL. Zen told Yoosung about how Jaehee had waited for him outside the backstage door with her girlfriend Soomi (along with a dozen other rabid fangirls clamoring for his attention), and he sent a selfie of the three of them. Zen was the focus of the picture, of course, while Jaehee and Soomi stood together behind him, leaning so that they were in frame. This was the first time you saw what Soomi looked like. She was cute and petite, her blonde hair cropped short in a stylish bob. Jaehee and Soomi had matching poses, both winking at the camera and holding up their hands in a peace sign. They looked like they were having a great time, and you couldn’t feel happier for them.

Zen and Yoosung then spent the rest of the chat lamenting how much they wished they had girlfriends too and feeling sorry for themselves. Your eyes glazed over as you scrolled to the bottom of the chat. By now you knew very well how much the RFA boys, except perhaps Jumin, regretted the lack of romance in their lives. Sometimes it was cute that they had so much love in their hearts that they wanted to share it with someone, but more often than not, it got repetitive and eye-roll inducing, so much that you wished they could just find someone already so they could stop moaning about it.

Once you reached the bottom of the chat, you logged out to the main user interface to check everyone’s status updates. As you looked at the row of user icons, you started to feel like something was missing. The icons felt too big, as if there could be room to fit one more comfortably among them.

Then you realized why: Jihyun’s icon was missing. It had been missing for a long time, actually, but now that he was back in the country, it felt wrong not to have him in the messenger.

After Jihyun left to go overseas, Jumin asked Seven to revoke his access for security purposes. He wouldn’t have had time to log into the messenger on his travels anyway, so there’d been no point in keeping his profile active. Even though you were about to travel abroad yourself, you couldn’t see yourself staying away from the messenger for too long. RFA had become like family to you, and you’d want to keep in touch no matter how far away you went.

You wondered if Jihyun still had the same phone he used two years ago, or if he’d deactivated his service altogether. Come to think of it, since he wasn’t on the messenger, you realized you had no way of contacting him.

A window popped up on your phone screen indicating that a new chatroom had been opened. You looked at the time–it was almost one o’clock in the morning. Who could be online at this hour?

You entered the chatroom. Seven greeted you.

707: Hello, pretty lady!

MC: Seven, you’re still awake.

707: Yup. So are you, I see.

MC: Can’t sleep.

707: Me neither. Still reeling from the high of the party?

MC: lol sort of. I got a lot on my mind right now. How was your evening?

707: Fine fine. It was pretty good actually!

He sent the emoji of him excitedly shouting “yahoo!”

MC: Good day at work?

707: Yup! I was super productive. Got everything done in record time… I see Zen and Yoosung are complaining about being single again. SMH. They’re just jealous that Jaehee has more game than them.

You laughed out loud. Sick burn, Seven.

MC: You’re not wrong, lol. Jaehee can be very sweet and charming when she has the chance to relax every once in a while. I’m happy that she and Soomi found each other.

707: They wouldn’t have met each other if you didn’t push Jumin to give Jaehee a vacation.

MC: Yeah… That’s true…

As if summoned, Jumin Han entered the chatroom.

707: WHOA that’s creepy, dude.

Jumin Han: What are you talking about? Good evening, MC.

MC: haha hey Jumin...that is a little creepy.

Jumin Han: ?

707: We were just talking about you.

Jumin Han: I see. I just read the log.

MC: I think you’ve read enough books on witchcraft that you’re starting to become a witch yourself, Jumin. Speak of the devil, and all that.

707: Hehe where’s your broom, witch boy?

You didn’t ask Jumin what he was doing up so late because he was always awake at this hour, either spending time with Elizabeth the 3rd or doing business with investors and companies in different timezones. On the rare occasion that you had a bout of insomnia, he would be in the chatroom, keeping you company until you finally fell asleep.

Jumin Han: Will Yoosung and Zen ever get tired of complaining about not having significant others?

MC: Probably not. Though, I feel like once they do get girlfriends, that’s all they’ll talk about on here.

Jumin Han: You’re probably right. I don’t know which is worse.

707: Jaehee is pretty modest about her relationship. They should act like her! Speaking of Jaehee, as I was saying before Jumin interrupted us with his creepy black magic, I think Jaehee has you to thank for meeting Soomi, MC.

MC: Oh, that’s more credit than I deserve. I just yelled at Jumin.

707: lmao you did yell at him

Well, you had typed in all caps in the chatroom, which was just as good as yelling. A few months ago, Jumin had swamped Jaehee with so much work that Jaehee broke down crying on the phone with you. You felt so awful and helpless at first, but after you did your best to console her and hung up, you decided that the only way to fix the problem was to go straight to the source.

Jumin was unreceptive to your suggestion at first, which you’d expected, but once you laid out all the reasons why it was a good idea to give her a break and why she deserved one, his cold, distant attitude started to irritate you. You tried to be civil, but the man was as stubborn as a mule sometimes. So you snapped and capslocked on him. Then once you said your piece, without warning, you logged out of the chatroom and called his phone to tell him off some more.

Jumin Han: I’ll admit I’ve never been yelled at like that before.

MC: I didn’t *yell*.

Jumin Han: You gave me a very stern lecture.

MC: Well, Zen yells at you on here all the time.

Jumin Han: I correct my previous statement—I’ve never been yelled at like that by someone whom I respect.

You knew that was high praise coming from someone like Jumin Han. Sometimes you couldn’t help but have the utmost respect for him too. After the incident, you learned that Jumin had been so stressed due to his father’s current romantic engagements and the prolonged absence of his best friend, and he had taken it out on his assistant. You felt bad for yelling at him, and you apologized to him personally on the phone the next day.

After that, he decided to give Jaehee three weeks of vacation. Jaehee was resistant at first, but you convinced her to take the offer. She spent those weeks off the messenger and met Soomi at one of her favorite coffee shops downtown. They hit it off rather easily, and the rest was history.

Jumin Han: Anyway, I am glad that Jaehee has found someone she cares about deeply. It seems to have made her more motivated in her work.

707: …

MC: sigh

Jumin Han: What? It’s true.

707: Only you would make something that’s supposed to be romantic into something totally not;;

Jumin Han: I don’t understand romantic relationships myself, so I see no point in commenting on it.

MC: I guess I can understand where you’re coming from. I’ve had enough of talking about romance for one evening.

707: Oh?

Seven sent his heart eyes emoji.

707: Who else are you talking about romance with, MC?

He sent the same emoji again.

“Oh crap,” you said to your screen. Suddenly the whole awkward conversation you had with Hana came back to you. You couldn’t very well tell Seven or Jumin that you and Hana had talked about Jihyun. You had to play it cool.

MC: Oh… I just had dinner with Hana tonight. She told me all about her new boyfriend.

Seven sent his gasping emoji.

707: The hot new actor Hojin Park! He and Hana were spotted smooching down in the Maldives last week!

Again with his heart eyes emoji.

MC: …Are you stalking my best friend, Seven?

707: It’s not stalking when paparazzi pictures of them are posted on every celeb gossip site!

MC: I am not going to talk gossip about my own friend. If I did, you’d probably try leaking it to the media for a quick buck.

707: They pay a lot of money for ~insider info~ you know.

You sent an emoji that depicted you giving a very unamused side-eye.

707: Fine, fine. I won’t ask about Hana’s love life. You need to lighten up, MC. Maybe you need a l-o-v-e interest of your own, eh?

The heart eyes. Again. You dropped your head into your hand. Why was everyone so hung up on romance this evening? You needed a change of subject, quick.

Thankfully, Jumin seemed to have the same idea.

Jumin Han: I think this conversation has derailed quite a bit.

MC: Thank you! Can we talk about something else, pls?

Jumin Han: I actually came onto the messenger to make a request of you, Seven.

707: Hmm, ok. What is it?

Jumin Han: I’d like you to grant Jihyun access to the messenger again.

Your phone almost slipped out of your hand.

Jihyun...on the messenger again? Weren’t you just thinking about that only minutes ago?

MC: Oh?

707: Oh, I didn’t even think of that. Does he want to get back on?

Jumin Han: No, but I imagine he’d like to be, once he gets a new phone, that is. He deactivated his old phone some time ago, and he needs to get another one first. I’ll pass on the information once it’s available.

707: …Do you think it’s a good idea?

Seven’s question took you aback. Why wouldn’t it be a good idea? You asked him what he meant.

707: …never mind. It’s nothing. When he gets a new phone, let me know, and I’ll add him back onto the messenger.

You didn’t know what to say. Where had his sudden hesitance come from? You would have thought Seven would be one of the more enthusiastic about his return. You remember Seven once telling you that he considered Jihyun almost like a father to him despite their relative close age gap. He trusted him more than anyone. In fact, back when you first met the RFA, you noticed there were secrets that Seven and Jihyun had kept between only them. Seven had come to Jihyun’s rescue at Mint Eye, after all.

...That was two years ago, though. The more you thought about it now, the more you realized that since then, Seven hadn’t spoken much about Jihyun at all. He certainly never brought him up in the chats of his own volition, and whenever someone else would mention him, he didn’t have much to say.

But he seemed happy to see Jihyun at the party earlier, didn’t he? Well, now that you thought about it, perhaps he wasn’t so much happy as he was shocked and…confused. Almost as if he had truly believed he never would see his old mentor ever again.

“We have a lot to catch up on, I think,” Jihyun had said. And Seven had agreed.

There was something tense about the exchange, some underlying thoughts and feelings that you couldn’t begin to decipher. That must have been what bothered Seven now. What was the missing link between them?

MC: You ok, Seven? You sound weird.

707: I’m fine. Gotta go, though. Long day.

He signed out of the chatroom before you could type another message.

Jumin Han: …

MC: Is it just me, or did something sound off about him? Does Seven not want Jihyun back on here?

Jumin Han: He seemed hesitant about it at the very least.

MC: Why? You don’t think it’s because he doesn’t trust Jihyun, do you? I know he had trouble with keeping secrets from everyone, even to Seven, but he just doesn’t seem like that kind of person anymore…

You weren’t sure if that were entirely true, but everything you knew about what he’d gone through seemed to indicate that Jihyun had had enough secrecy for one lifetime. The man you saw at the party didn’t look like someone who would harbor any secrets.

Jumin Han: I agree. I’ve been with him all evening, and he is definitely changed.

MC: …wait. You’ve been hanging out with Jihyun?

Jumin Han: Yes, he’s with me right now.

“What?” you said aloud. Jumin had been chatting with you all this time and Jihyun was with him?

MC: Really? Where are you?

Jumin Han: At my penthouse. I invited him over as a guest, since he currently has nowhere to stay.

You were typing to ask what he was doing, but your fingers froze over the screen when a picture popped up in the chat.

This time, your phone actually did fall out of your hands...and landed right onto your face, since you were lying in bed. You let out a pained shriek and massaged your nose. Then you jolted up into a sitting position and looked back at your phone.

Jihyun was in the photo. He was standing next to the dining table, across from where Jumin seemed to be sitting. He was pouring himself a glass of red wine. You could tell it was a candid picture because Jihyun’s eyes appeared as though he’d looked into the camera just as it was being taken, his brows raised in a half-expression of surprise. It was cute, actually. But that wasn’t what got your attention.

What got your attention was the fact that his hair was wet, sticking to the left side of his face. He had a towel draped over his shoulders, and he wore gray lounge pants and a white tank top...

MC: …

Jumin Han: He just got out of the shower. He’s jet lagged, so that’s why he’s still awake, if you were wondering.

You were actually wondering why his bare arms looked appealingly firm and smooth, and why his tank top clung so tightly to his slender but lean torso…but you weren’t going to type that.

MC: Um, thanks for the pic haha

Jumin Han: I thought I should prove to you he was in fact here.

MC: You didn’t need to do that lol. I believed you.

Jumin Han: He’s asking me who I sent the photo to.

MC: Oh...what did you tell him?

Jumin Han: You.

You blushed. Should you take a selfie of yourself just to make it fair? You couldn’t do that. You probably looked like a mess after tossing and turning in bed for a few hours… Wait, why did you care what you looked like? You’d sent less than flattering pictures of yourself through the messenger before.

Jumin Han: I need to go. Elizabeth the 3rd should be put to bed soon, and I’m going to keep Jihyun company.

MC: Okay. Tell Elizabeth the 3rd hello for me.

You debated whether you should add another line. Oh, why not?

MC: ...and Jihyun, too.

Jumin Han: Will do. Goodnight.

Jumin logged out, and so did you. You lingered in the main UI a little while longer, wondering what Jumin and Jihyun were up to right now, what they were talking about. Jumin must have liked having the chance to catch up with his best friend, especially considering how much you knew he’d missed him and worried after him since he left. You could only hope you got your chance, too.

You went into the messenger’s photo folders. Even though Seven had taken away Jihyun’s access to the app, he kept his photo folder untouched. You opened it and looked at the newest picture of him. Out of curiosity, you told yourself. Once it expanded across your screen, your heart did a flip in your chest, which was a sensation that utterly confused you. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to being friends with so many pretty people. Part of the reason why it was so easy for you to initially believe that the RFA were AIs in a dating simulator was because they were all too good-looking to be real. Even now, you would catch yourself admiring just how beautiful Zen looked in his selfies, how well Jumin wore his business suits, how cute Yoosung and Seven were in an adorably nerdy way. Even Jaehee was exceptionally gorgeous.

Yet somehow none of them made you react the way you reacted to this picture of Jihyun. What was happening?

You reasoned it was because you’d never seen him like this. So candid, so...underdressed. You felt as if you shouldn’t be even be looking at it.

Get a grip, MC.

You exited out of the app, tossed your phone onto your comforter, and collapsed onto your pillow, trying desperately to wipe the image out of your mind so you could finally, finally, get to sleep.

#jihyun kim #v x mc #vxmc #mystic messenger #mystic messenger v #mystic messenger fanfic #mysme #mysme v #i'm participating in nanowrimo with an original fic on top of writing this fic #so rip me i guess #taofil #my fic

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