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winebleeds · 3 years

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@bnjmin sent ❛ b, d, p, q (for reasons), u for all ❜

⤑ VALETINE’S HEADCANONS

B : BOUQUET. does your muse like flowers? which ones are their favourite?

raleigh: he likes flowers in the sense of being around during hikes. so, if there’s a purple flower by a rock, he’ll comment that’s a pretty purple, internally or externally. but he isn’t someone to go out of his way to pick flowers out at a store (even, again, he may find a bouquet pretty when walking by) and he doesn’t really know the names of flowers compared to his preference of trees. he loves trees. but i’ll save that for another day. but, if he has to name a flower...

liz: yeah... she likes roses, mainly red or white roses. though, while roses are her favorite, she may buy something that looks nice / fits the current theme for her interior design. however, she’s not the best with maintaining plants, so they don’t last long. but she’s the most likely to buy a bouquet of flowers as a gift, either for a close friend she knows like flowers or a romantic partner. she’ll also make sure to know what flowers said people would like to best, which includes succulents.

jamie: im not quite sure about his own preferences to flowers, mainly because it’s not something he thinks about. however, like liz, he’ll buy flowers for someone he cares about. first to come to mind was his college ex, where he would always get flowers after on of her dance recitals.

maddie: she loves loves loves flowers! her favorite are sunflowers, but daisies, carnations, & chrysanthemums are on the top of her list. heck, she even has a tattoo (bonus link about all her tatts & the brothers; the main one here is #7 for maddie, though i do have to update this) she’s also someone who looks closely at floral meaning, though she often just uses her own meanings based on how she views the design / color & the other person. for example, she regrets how yellow carnations mean rejection since yellow is maddie’s color, but will combined yellow & red roses as both representation of liz & herself and the happiness having her sister around brings her. she may even wear floral patterns, definitely more than liz, and use floral designs in her artwork. and, yeah, more like to work at a flower shop in those tropey flower shop au’s.

D : DATE. what is your muse’s ideal date? where / who with / etc?

general: im answering this as the ideal first date, or early dates. while i think some of the settings to personalities shown in these answer may show the type of people that can fit these, im not going to say ‘who with’ since there’s a lot of flexibility on dating & “P” sorta answers that.

raleigh: somewhere that isn’t too crowded but isn’t too private either. so, don’t expect anywhere like a club or a home. he’ll like hiking the best, especially with his dogs & other pets around. while trails can be private, there’s also people that can come by & it’s not a crowded space. cafes at slow hours are also fine too. and outdoor settings, so like eating outside or dogs parks or just outside. he’s an outdoor person at heart, and spending hours in the hospital or off days where he can hardly get out the bed makes him appreciate any time he can get outside more, so he’ll prefer those as early dates, even if it’s as simple as reading on a park bench hearing the water. oh! and museums! he loves all kinds of museum & aquariums, maybe zoos.

liz: she doesn’t date. don’t say that you’re dating. who cares if she spends more time with you, mainly doing things you like or asks you to meet her at her special chocolate shop so she can see what types of chocolates you like while you seeing all the dark chocolate she selects. or cooks for you or she even helps you with things you’ve been struggling with, even as she struggles herself at certain things. you both go to the bar together without either of you hooking up with anyone else despite that being “the purpose.” hell, who cares if the two of you made out while stargazing on the top of a skyscraper or travelled to an open field or even woke up to the smell of breakfast the morning after. who cares if everyone calls you a couple or you fell yourself falling for her & the private moments you know she doesn’t share with anyone else but you: she 👏 doesn’t 👏 date. 👏

jamie: a sporting event may be something fun. and especially couple workouts. but also horseback riding together or being around animals. there’s also him cooking for his date, though he can tolerate going out to restaurants. but, overall, there needs to be some sort of active activity alongside the date just because he has a hard time staying still.

maddie: concerts from other artists or her & the date playing music together. but she likes museums or aquariums too, though she leans towards art museums or photo galleries. then there’s even more exciting events like paintball or roller skating. i think she’s inbetween jamie & raleigh in the sense that she needs to be active but can be tranquil when the moment is right, and that she prefers more public locations but can be in big crowds.

P : PARTNER. what does your muse look for in a partner? looks / personality?

raleigh: uh, someone that’s strong & independent. someone that can take a leadership role but isn’t too demanding. while feeling he needs guidance sometimes, he likes his independence too. and definitely someone who doesn’t mind being around his dogs or mind husky hair on them, of course.

liz: these are not things she necessary look for, but things i’ve realize occurs with romantic ships... someone she feels needs some sort of guidance in their life or someone that accepts liz trying to take care of everything. so someone submissive (mainly in bed) yet being able to remind liz to not overwork herself. because a lot of her partners give her advice or suggestions that can change her mindset or try to work to what the partner wants, even if she pretends to remain distant about it. she’s VERY internal & isn’t going to communicate her own wants, because she does get to the point where partner > her. and im about to go off topic since this isn’t about what she looks for in her partner uh... she likes tattoos & leans towards artistic people or people in subjects that can tell her things she doesn’t know much about (and she likes all sorts of knowledge). occasionally she’ll realize a fwb is getting to close, and sometimes that ends up as something more but usually her attachment issues kicks in & she leaves. :/

jamie: uh i guess someone who’s physically fit? or at least can keep up with him. as in, the other person doesn’t need abs but can learn to throw a football or walk a couple miles with ease. it’s more due to this being the types of people he hangs around with due to his job. he’s also drawn to sophistication, if that makes sense. like, his college ex was a ballet dancer. but it’s also like, someone he feels some sort of awe too, which could be being sophisticated in lets say physics or have a smile he feels is worth a million bucks.

maddie: usually she ends up with another fellow musician or artist because it’s the folks she hangs around with & finds comfort in having that same interest. and she CAN loose interest pretty quickly in terms of dating, but can remain as friends.

Q : QUESTION. would your muse ask the big question or expect their partner to?

raleigh: he’ll ask first, but would be fine if the other partner asks. especially if they feel impatient with him trying to gain courage to ask. tho like someone else i could see him asking when drunk and not remembering in the morning & be like ‘... oops.’

liz: next.

jamie: he’ll ask. all the way. he’ll feel the most weird if someone asked him.

maddie: the partner to ask.

U : UNREQUITED. has your muse had their heart broken?

raleigh: yep. half the time he breaks it himself because he puts high expectations on either himself or how things with someone will go.

liz: no. because she doesn’t have one. actually her parents have broken her heart as in her struggles with any sort of attachment, romantic platonic or whatever, due to her mother leaving and then her father’s later dependence on liz / his constant reminders of never get close to people have really damaged her but we won’t go there.

jamie: yes. mainly with irene leaving him, though that was all his fault. there’s also the married woman and how she manipulated jamie’s heart where he has a hard time trusting others but we won’t go there.

maddie: yeah. though she’s fickle in relationships, but it hurts anytime a guy breaks up with her or she has to break up. and it’s happen enough where she became reserved about letting others know about dates because telling others ‘yeah we broke up’ hurts her a lot. :/

#long post for ts /#( v. answered )#( j. headcanon )#( m. headcanon )#( e. headcanon )#( r. headcanon )#bnjmin #im not answering that one question for reasons... and you know.

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zankivich · 5 years

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Teacher’s Pet: A College AU Chapter 15

a/n: Hi friends! I’m back and officially done with finals so I think we’re about to finish this one out. I imagine next chapter will probs be the last one. this series has been so fucking dope for me to write so I hope you enjoy tbh. Please let me know if ya like!

*masterlist in bio*

*Shawn’s pov*

It was nearing finals when Andrew helped him post the video. They wanted him to do another cover to garner interest, and maybe boost his numbers, before going straight into the studio to record an album. Andrew said it could be any song he wanted, but that it should be somewhere substantial in the Billboard 100. He does a cover of Perfect by Ed Sheeran, and maybe it was a little strategic. Ed was an inspiration and he wanted that sort of sound in his music, and so he knew if he got people to see it and like it, that it would be an accurate representation of the kind of artist he wanted to be. Also, his girlfriend liked it and so when she sat in the corner of Andrew’s house where they recorded it, every single take she would clap and hollar for him like his own little number one fan. It helped that Perfect had been one of the biggest songs of the year as well.

He woke up the next day to his phone buzzing like crazy. Well actually, he woke up to his girlfriend ready to throttle him with a pillow if he didn’t, “turn that thing the fuck off”. It was Andrew. Something had gone oddly right. He’d managed to rack up four million views in twenty-four hours. People higher than Andrew were asking, who was this kid with the guitar. They wanted him recording something….Now.

“What are you doing right now?” Andrew asked.

He peered down at his feet, body bare except for his boxer briefs. His arms were crossed and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall in their bedroom that just showed how fucking shocked he was by the information he was sharing with him.

“I…I’m in my bedroom. My girlfriend’s still asleep.” He whispered. “Andrew, what the fuck do I now?”

“You get dressed. You brush your teeth. You grab your guitar and you get your ass to LA. that vision you were telling me about? That album you wanted to make? Now’s your shot, kid.”

Andrew had the ability to get him to launch into action. It was what had garnered trust for them so quickly, was this weird connection between the two of them. If Andrew said he needed to get his ass to LA, he needed to get his ass to LA.

He jumped straight into the shower, tugging on clothes over still damp body parts, and trying to locate his lucky guitar pick while trying to pull a shoe on. He senses her wake up before she even makes any noise, and he finally remembers that he’s leaving her. He crawled back into bed just as she was rolling over, allowing the length of his body to cover hers entirely.

She yawned and stretched, her adorable fucking cheeks just out there for him to kiss and nuzzle.

“Good morning.” She giggled kissing at his throat. “Why do you have clothes on right now?”

“Baby, the Ed cover got four million views last night. Andrew got the green light to have me come in and start recording. He wants me to come to LA, right now.”

“Are you fucking me?!” She squealed throwing her arms around him. “I’m so proud of you, babes.”

She nearly tackled him to the bed, pressing kissing to his face and smiling at him that way that just made him feel like fucking good inside. She was radiant and beautiful and she made everything feel like it was at another level.

“I love you, so much.”

He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to say it in that moment. He was just so fucking happy and that happiness was directly correlated to her. It wasn’t just the views and the ability to create music anymore, it was that he had so much he was feeling nowadays, so much going on inside of him, and that had so much to do with her. When he kissed her and her outlandish curls tickled his face, he just wanted to burrow deeper into her and never leave. But, he also wanted the world to know that he was in love, that his partner was this amazing, incredible being that he wasn’t worthy of. Or maybe he was, like she always said he was, and even that within itself was fucking cool.

“I love you too. Go live your dream. I’ll be here when you get back.”

She traced his jaw with her fingertips and looked at him like he was more than just a man. He felt it deep in his bones and it only made it harder to leave her. But, there was something about the fact that he was going to make music that felt like he wasn’t leaving her. It was if she existed in the notes and the melodies, in the strum of his guitar. She had melded with the most beautiful part of his life and elevated music for him. She existed in his head and in his heart and therefore he knew that he’d be spending the day with her. And that made it slightly easier to leave. If only slightly.

***

He’s looking at a group of writers for the first time, and it’s kind of the most terrifying thing in the world. Andrew had introduced them all a couple of times, but this is completely different. This is them asking for a piece of him, to look into his head and creating something out of it. The only thing that makes it possible to do it is that Teddy’s there. She was a kick ass producer and she was one of his closest friends, so it clicked for them in a way he wasn’t sure he could’ve done otherwise.

“I wanna talk about...I wanna talk about what it felt like when I fell for her.” He mumbled.

In his book that he kept ideas and lyrics in there was this line that he had written down that he’d never gone back to.

Every time I see you baby I get lost

If I'm dreaming, baby, please don't wake me up

Teddy takes the lyric and plays with it and everyone else is just asking him questions. And it’s personal, but it’s necessary. He tries to remind himself that he essentially wants the whole world to know how he feels, and so four other people has to be a good enough start. And he also knows that talking about her calms him in a way he loves, makes it feel like she is with him even when she isn’t.

“So what was it man? When did you know?” Scott asked.

He shrugged. “I guess...I guess we were lying in bed together. We hadn’t even slept together yet. We got drunk and it rained and I ended up in her bed, and when I woke up she was there. She was lying on my chest, and I could see the pout in her mouth while she slept, and I just remember wanting to kiss her so badly. I remember being terrified that she wouldn’t let me stay. I don’t think I knew it yet, but like...I think I loved her even then.”

They all sit on the floor in this fancy ass studio and it sort of turns into a huge therapy session. He ends up telling all of them she’s his TA, and he definitely leaves Roger out of the story, but there’s something about the mystery of it all that’s got them. His guitar is in his hands and he has a chord that he likes, and Teddy throws in a chord that compliments that one. And Scott has a line about not being able to see anything wrong with what they are to each other. And they just sort of jam out piece by piece until suddenly there’s a verse done. And that feeling is so fucking magical that they start plucking out harmonies together. It’s a feeling he only gets when he’s creating, when it all fits together, and the pieces connect. When it works it’s the best fucking feeling in the world. And for that, for the moment in time, it works.

***

Y/n’s pov.

The first time he leaves to perform isn’t easy. Mostly because you couldn’t go with. With the cover exploding in the manner that it did, Shawn was all music all the time--more so even than usual. It was beautiful to watch because it’s when he was at his happiest, and when everything made the most sense for him. But, the world didn’t stop moving for him to live his dream, which meant you were left to pick up the pieces.

“I won’t go. I--I can ask Andrew to reschedule.”

You were meeting with the conduct board to hear their decision on the matter, and Andrew had scheduled him to go perform at some radio show in LA the same day. There was no doubt in your mind that he was going.

“No, you’re not. You won’t miss much anyway. Either I get fired, or I don’t. Not much we can do ya know?” You shrugged.

Shawn thought you were being too nonchalant about it, and he hated it because he knew deep down you were absolutely petrified. If you had to guess that was probably part of his motivation to stay. He groaned grumpily at you reaching to take your face in those catcher mitts he called hands.

“This is not a simple thing. Don’t act like it is, and don’t shut me out.” He mumbled.

You rolled your eyes at your fluffy over dramatic Canadian.

“I’m not shutting you out. I just am asking you not to sacrifice everything that’s going right for you, for me.”

“You’re important to me. You matter just as much as this.”

“I believe you. You don’t have to prove anything to me. So, fucking go, or I’m gonna be pissed at you.”

He took in the raised eyebrow and the crinkle in your forehead that said you were serious. There was no fighting you when you’d made up your mind. So, he kisses you silly instead. He rubs circles into the small of your back, and he touches your face and sucks your lip into his mouth. Sometimes he would hold your face in his palm and keep you at a distance reaching in to punish your mouth with his own, only to pull back when you were needy and desperate. It was hot and dominate especially in comparison with the absolute look of tenderness upon his face.

“I love you.” He sighed. “Will you keep me on speaker phone through the whole thing? I don’t go on until two.”

“I love you too. And yes I will, but only if you kiss me some more and stop fighting with me.”

He slid his arms around your waist and tugged you into his body.

“I’m not fighting with you you’re just fucking stubborn as all hell. Now come here.”

It takes you twenty minutes to let him leave.

When you were a little girl, your mom and dad had gotten in a huge fight. Screaming, crying, hitting, the whole nine yards. And after your father had stormed out, your mom had to go to work. So, you sat on her bed and watched as she dressed herself up to go to her desk job. She had smoothed at her own hair and wiped her own tears away, and she stood tall and brave and made sure as such before she walked out into the world. And even then you knew that that’s what strength looked like. And you liked to think that that’s what you did that day. You slid on this sort of chic suit that was black with white accents, and you swiped your hair all the way back in a ponytail that rested against the base of your skull. And you prepared yourself to walk into that room with your fucking head held high because there were no other options. Maybe the slight silver lining was that your dad had been a piece of shit, and you weren’t in a toxic relationship at all.

“Baby that looks really pretty.” Shawn whined through the phone.

You sent him a picture of your outfit and he’d immediately jumped on the phone with you as you walked towards the office of the Dean.

“Shut up.” You snorted, cheeks warming.

“Andrew, did you know that I’ve got the prettiest fucking girlfriend in the whole world?!”

You rolled your eyes laughing when you heard Andrew tell him to conserve his voice and stop being a dumbass. That was usually your job.

“Are you really gonna stay on speaker the whole time?” You asked as you made your way into the academic building.

It immediately quieted down on his end, and you could tell he was moving to a more private space.

“Of course I am, honey. I would never leave you to do this on your own. I’m so sorry I can’t be there in person.”

You took a deep breath. “It’s okay. I want you to be there. I’m just...a little more nervous than I thought I was, I guess.”

“Yea? You want to spend some time breathing before you go in?”

You nodded softly completely forgetting that he couldn’t even fucking see you.

“Yes. Please.”

“Okay, just go to the bathroom, alright? I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You found yourself in the middle of a bathroom stall working to match your breathing to the rate of your boyfriend’s. It was much easier said than done unfortunately. It was much harder to not think about worst case scenario, which was you getting kicked out of school. Shawn could be there for you, he could do everything right in the world, but it wasn’t gonna change their opinion on the matter. And you hated that lack of control.

“Did you take your purse with you, sweetheart?” He asked when you’d done all the breathing in the world and it hadn’t really helped at all.

“Yea.”

“I put something in the pocket where you keep your wallet. Could you grab that for me?”

You moved the phone between your ear and shoulder to free up your hands. Things tended to get lost in your purse so it took a lot of shuffling and a lot of looking around before your fingers touched silver. It was the necklace his grandmother had given him. You never once ever saw him without it, not even at the beach. And yet here it was with you and not with him, and that kind of blew your mind.

“Shawn,” You gasped eyes still on the necklace. “This is your grandmother’s necklace.”

He chuckled softly. “I know it is. I wanted you to have it for today.”

“But--But I’ve never seen you perform without it. You’re never without it.”

“I know but I thought it might be more important for you to have it right now. If I fuck up this performance, i’ll be okay. I just want you to be happy and to get to do what you love too, baby.”

A sniffle beaks through and you wish he was there just so you could slap him. The one day in the history of ever you put mascara on and your dumb boyfriend had to go and make you cry. Ugh.

“Sweetheart are you--are you crying?” He whispered.

“No!” You mumbled through a shaking lip and actual tears. “This is stupid. You’re stupid.”

You could practically hear him smiling on the other end.

“I love you, so much, beautiful.” He murmured. “You know that right?”

You reached desperately for toilet paper to stop your incessant tears.

“Yea.” You whined.

“Good. So, just put that necklace on and you’ll know that I’m there with you even when I can’t be physically. Especially when I can’t be physically.”

You slid the necklace on with shaky fingers, knowing that you would’ve preferred him to be the one putting it on you. But this would do. The sentiment, the meaning behind him leaving it with you. That was more than enough.

“I love you.” You mumbled when your eyes were less red and you felt comfortable enough to leave the bathroom. “Much more than I could ever explain.”

“I know. That’s the good part, is that I know exactly what you mean, because I feel the same.”

In the room, Dr. Edwards sits beside you. The room is brown all over; hardwood desks and walls, and table tops that somehow lack any semblance of warmth. It’s sterile and quiet reminding you of your gynecologist’s office but just with more men. The dean is there, and so are other people from student affairs and the conduct board. Shawn is on the phone sitting on the table in front of you and you keep your fingers on the necklace around your throat to offer any sort of guidance in the world. It is terrifying and horrible and Roger isn’t even there, which just makes you wonder if he’d ever have to experience the hell you’ve been through. Shawn is on speaker so he can’t talk to you and you alone, so it’s really time for you to just sit there and take it all head on. Whatever it may be.

“Miss y/l/n, thank you for joining us today. And you Mr. Mendes for calling in. This has been a...rather difficult thing for us as a board to work through. Mostly because we’ve never had this come up as a problem before, hence the lack of policy written about it.” The dean began.

You bit your lip at that feeling even more embarrassed for breaking a rule they’d never even thought to formally write down.

“Now while I understand you two may be in love and have a genuine relationship, it is very important that you both understand the irrelevance of that to this investigation. We are not here to determine whether or not you are in love, we are here to determine whether or not you have broken university policy. Do you understand?”

Your fingers tightened around the necklace dangling from your throat. Holy shit this was terrifying.

“Yes, sir, we understand. Right y/n?” Shawn spoke up prompting you to answer.

“Y--Yes. I understand.”

“Good. With that being said...The board has closely examined the policy, which states the prohibition of any sexual relationship between a faculty member or staff member with a student. A staff member is defined as someone who works no less than thirty hours a week and is actively insured under the university health insurance.”

Your heartbeat picked up and you felt like you could choke on your tongue at any moment. You wanted to call out to Shawn but you couldn’t, you had to be quiet and wait it all out.

“Now, Ms. y/l/n while you are actively an TA, it does fulfill a credit hour that you are taking as a part of the requirements for your graduate program. And despite some of our better judgement, the policy does not currently define that position as a staff member. You are technically completely under the umbrella of being a student.”

“Holy shit, babe!” Shawn crackled over the line.

Bless his fucking heart.

“Mr. Mendes, please.” The dean hissed stunning your boyfriend into silence.

You tried to smile apologetically, but you got the feeling you were not well liked in that room at all.

“As it appears you may have guessed,” He sighed turning his attention back to you. “We have been unable to locate any violation of the policy as it currently stands. Your relationship, though unethical, does not violate university law.”

You nodded hands literally shaking around the necklace you were wearing just waiting for the floor to fall out from underneath you. It felt like it was too good to be true.

“Now, this doesn’t mean that what you’ve done is okay. We are extremely disappointed in you Miss y/l/, and will be placing you on academic probation for the duration of next semester. Despite your ability to return to class, you will be under watchful eye of this university.”

“Of course. Absolutely, I agree.” You murmured.

“As for you Mr. Mendes, it was a little more difficult to find a punishment as you also did not technically break the policy. We left it up to Dr. Edwards and she has decided that the missed classes in wake of your final paper has been punishment enough. You are free to return to class on Monday.”

“T--Thank you, sir.” Shawn spoke over the phone. “But, what about Roger?”

You let your head dip lower, a part of you glad that he brought it up so that you didn’t have to. His name still made you feel sick to your stomach, and somehow you knew that it wasn’t gonna pan out the way that either of you wanted.

“We are not able to discuss the more personal details of Roger’s case. The only thing you need to know y/n is that we do have policy centered around harassment and utilizing technology to provoke students. The board has made the decision that he will not receive credit for the class, and will not sit in on the remaining class periods. “

You couldn’t help but look over at Kate, and even she could only stare at you with remorse. Everyone in that room knew that the punishment didn’t fit the crime. But, his father was on the board of trustees, and that meant power that none of you had.

Shawn snorted rudley. “With all due respect sir, that’s bullshit. Since when did sexual harassment of your students not matter to you all?”

“Shawn. Shawn, it’s fine. Okay?” You assured him. “This is the best we’re gonna get.”

The Dean for the first time seemed to look at you with an ounce of pity in his eyes, something that told you he at least understood what had been done, but knew that he wasn’t at liberty to do anything about it.

“The most I can offer you is a no contact order.”

In the end it really doesn’t feel like much. You get to keep your job, but also under the guise that men and money and patriarchy continued to dominate higher education just as they did the rest of the world. You leave knowing that there’s a lot more work to do, but also so extremely validated in the importance of it. No it’s not the kind of win you wanted, but it is a win nonetheless. Shawn gets to go back to class. You keep your job. The world keeps spinning and you keep fighting for the right for people who don’t look like Roger to exist. A part of you always knew that’s how it might turn out.

You get the no contact order to give you, and Shawn, some piece of mind, before running to get to your boyfriend. LA traffic was a bitch, and you knew you’d probably just arrive in time for him to finish but it would be worth it. Shawn had supported you in a way that you never could have even thought to ask for, and you wanted to give that back to him too. You wanted to give him everything too.

When you get there you have to text him because your boyfriend was important now and went to places where you had to be on a list to get in. He ran out to you immediately grabbing you up in his arms and it was the most incredible feeling after what felt like the longest day of your life.

“What are you doing here?” He mumbled squeezing you tightly.

You hummed. “I just wanted to support you...and I wanted to give you this.”

You pulled back from him to slide his grandmother’s necklace back off of your neck.

He scrunched his face up and grabbed your hands in his stopping you from moving closer

“No. I didn’t want it back, babe. I wanted you to wear it.”

“But Shawn, you always wear it. I don’t wanna mess you up.” You whined.

He simply grinned at you and pressed kisses to your face until you were the giggling mess that only he could turn you into. Ugh men.

“I can’t think of anymore good luck in this world, then to look over and see it on your neck. I’ll be fine. You’re here with me, how could I mess up?”

“I don’t know. That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Nah. you’re just kind of perfect for me.” He assured you.

Inside the radio studio you watch the way that Shawn composes himself. He shook hands and introduced himself to every person he came in contact with. When they asked him to do an interview for the youtube channel he immediately said yes, and was so nice to the person micing him up that he nearly missed his cue. It was exactly the man you knew and the man that you loved. Shawn was the guy who could walk into a room and immediately be your best friend just from twenty seconds of conversation. He was kind and gentle and smart and talented as all hell.

While they were interviewing him, Andrew came to sit next to you. You and Andrew didn’t really have the best relationship, or a relationship at all for that matter. All you knew was that he meant a lot of Shawn and Shawn felt that he was leading him in the right direction, so you trusted that judgement before all else. But best friends, you were not.

“How did it go today?” He asked pulling your attention from how cute Shawn looked in his shirt.

Your eyes widened slightly. “I uh--I get to stay in my department. They put me on probation technically, but it looks like they’re trying to make sure I don’t cause havoc and bring attention to the fact that Roger basically stalked and harassed me. Wouldn’t be a great look for the university.”

“That’s good.”

“Yea. Shawn’s not in trouble either if that’s what you were curious about. We didn’t break any university policy.”

Andrew smirked at that. “Why do you think that I’d only want to know if Shawn was affected?”

“Just seems like your priority is all. It’s kind of your job isn’t it?”

He nodded softly peering over at where you were watching Shawn do his thing. Eventually Andrew’s gaze turned to you and you could feel him looking at you in a way that made you nervous. Andrew usually ignored you and you’d been okay with that.

“His entire life is about to change.” He murmured softly.

You turned to look at him and his face was unreadable.

“What do you mean?”

“All eyes are starting to turn to him. I’ve got people in high places who are financially investing themselves in him doing well. The second his semester ends he’s going to have to work harder than he ever has in his life. And that’s going to take all of his time.”

You clenched at the necklace around your throat thinking that maybe it was choking you but in reality you noticed it was just you, just your heart starting to clench in your chest. Maybe it was Andrew instead.

“W--Why are you telling me this?”

“It’s not because I want to hurt you, y/n.” He attempted to reassure you. “I’m telling you because I want you both to prepare yourselves. He’s about to enter the craziest time of his life. It’s not gonna be college staying up until three a.m together to write papers. It’s gonna be him in a different city every day of the week. It’s gonna be weeks of not seeing each other in person. And I know that you’re in a master’s program, and you got your own shit going on. You shouldn’t have to throw it all away.”

You could feel your body getting hot. It was telltale sign that you weren’t gonna be able to hold your tongue. Usually Shawn would be there to pull you back, but he was nowhere to be found and that was bad for Andrew.

“Who the hell said I would throw it away? What would make you think that I’m not capable of being in a relationship and doing my fucking job at the same time?”

“That’s not how I meant it.”

“So how did you mean it? It sounds like you’re trying to convince me break to up with him for your sake, so he can work freely in the industry.”

“No I’m just trying to get you to think a little bit about the life you’re about to sign up for.”

You snorted. “Fuck off with your false genuine bullshit. You’re not advocating for me and you’re not advocating for Shawn, you’re advocating for your investment. I’m not under contract with you and I don’t owe you anything.”

You noticed that he reached for your arm to try to get you to be quiet. Suddenly people were staring and that only made you angrier because you didn’t want to feel like you were crazy. You didn’t have the capacity to not be angry, and you knew in your heart that you deserved to be angry. You could feel tears building up behind your eyes. The sort of embarrassing, child like tantrum tears that showed up when you just felt defeated, like no one was listening to you.

It isn’t until his arms wrap around you from behind that you feel like you can breathe again. And you know that it’s him the way that your body knows to release the minute he’s touching you. Because it’s him and you automatically feel better when you’re together.

“Hey, hey, hey what’s going on?” He hushed softly in your ear.

You were still staring at Andrew with all of the rage he’d created inside of you clear in your eyes. But, with Shawn’s arms wrapped around you it no longer felt like a battle worth fighting. It would only make things harder, would probably only prove whatever idiotic statement he’d been trying to make. And you didn’t want it to be about that, not on this day that meant so much to him.

So, you smiled softly and turned in his arms to press a kiss to his jaw.

“Nothing’s going on. It’s fine.”

He frowned at you and immediately ran his thumb along your cheekbone, something that you often found incredibly soothing and right now was no different.

“No it’s not. What’s going on? Andrew?”

Andrew shrugged. “We were just chatting.”

Shawn took one look at you, could see the tears that you were just barely holding back with every fiber of your being and decided whatever answer he’d been given was not enough. He took you by the hand and led you away from the lights, the crew, and Andrew. There was a room in the back of the studio that looked like a general purpose room for the talent to wait between interviews. When the door was closed, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and squeezed you warmly against his chest. With your face tucked into his shirt which smelled of cologne and the soap he used at home it was difficult not to find comfort, and with comfort it was difficult not to let the tears out that you’d been holding back.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on? Why were you fighting with Andrew?”

You sniffled. “I don’t wanna get you in trouble.”

“What do you mean get me in trouble? What happened? You can tell me.”

“I’m not good enough for you.”

And with that you fell apart in true dramatic fashion. Honestly, it probably had more to do with the stress of the entire day then the actual argument with Andrew. It just felt like every step of the way you had to fight to validate your relationship. And the first sign that you might not have to fight anymore, a new enemy just approached you from a different angle. You were tired of fighting to feel like you deserved to be with Shawn. It was kind of exhausting.

“That’s absolute nonsense. Of course you’re good enough for me.” He muttered.

He pulled you to the couch tucking you into his lap against the arm of the couch so that you felt as comforted as possible. His hands came up to grasp firmly at your cheeks, wiping away the tears that had only continued to drop as you huffed out exaggerated breaths.

“Who told you you’re not good enough for me? Andrew?”

You shook your head softly. “He didn’t say it out right but… he kept talking about your career and how all of these things are gonna change for you, and that I probably won’t be able to deal with in like I think I can. He just...He made it sound like I might be a burden on your happiness. Like I might not be able to give you what you need because, what you need isn’t me.”

“That is...That could not be further from the truth y/n.” He sighed moving your hair out of the way to see your eyes. “I need you so badly right now I can hardly breathe. When you showed up this afternoon? I couldn’t even contain myself. You don’t understand how fast I ran to get to you. I’m . . . baby I’m so fucking nervous. I’m terrified and I, I need you to get through this. I don’t care what anyone else says. I need you, okay? Please, tell me that you know that.

You hadn’t. Shawn had been so focused on supporting you and then supporting himself that you hadn’t quite noticed that the scales had tipped unevenly. You wanted him to always lean on you when he needed it, because you knew in your heart that he’d allow you to do the same. And it felt good to be needed. But it also hurt to know how badly he’d been struggling.

You pressed your forehead softly against his, smiling when his fingers traced your jaw.

“I know. I know; I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. Just know that your support means everything to me alright?”

“Okay.”

“And I’ll talk to Andrew. He’s not gonna bother you anymore.”

You winced. “No, Shawn. You don’t have to--”

“I’m talking to Andrew. You’re the most important thing. And he has to get on board with that. It isn’t an option.”

Well that was just….hot as all hell.

“Okay.” You mumbled failing to contain the smile of a woman with a man who would happily give her the world.

The rest of the afternoon is spent watching Shawn do interviews. He goes and plays for another radio show and he talks to people and he blows every conversation out of the water. Andrew has a look on his face that tells you things are going well. And they have Shawn play the cover at every radio station they attend. You record about a dozen videos of him throughout the day only to spend forever deciding which one is good enough to post.

When it’s all set and done you figured he’d want to go home. It had been exhausting just watching him go, go, go all day long. But instead he asked you to come to the studio with him. There was something that he wanted you to hear, and it had to be heard through the studio speakers or it wouldn’t be good enough.

You let him tag you along, loving the excited look on his face at the very thought of doing what he loved. You adore that about him, how passionate he was always. You loved even more when that passion was directed towards you, because duh.

“Okay. You ready?” He asked turning a nervous smile in your direction.

You nodded. “Lay it on me, babes.”

“Okay. It’s not perfect yet. Teddy is still gonna do some more production on it, but she had finals to work on. And there’s still this thing about the chorus that I can’t put my finger on.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“Shawn, play it.”

“Okay, okay.”

He pressed whatever magical button in the sea of magical buttons was the playback before sitting beside you in the big comfy chairs. When his voice comes out the speakers you almost squeal a little bit, because that’s your baby and he’s singing and he’s perfect, but then you hear the words and something different entirely happens inside of you.

Sunrise with you on my chest

No blinds in the place where I live

Daybreak open your eyes

'Cause this was only ever meant to be for one night

Still, we're changing our minds here

You peer over at him and he’s watching you so closely that it makes your heart stutter. Of course it was for you, but who could have ever expected it to be that beautiful.

You are bringing out a different kind of me

There's no safety net that's underneath, I'm free

Falling all in

You fell for men who weren't how they appeared, yeah

Trapped up on a tightrope now we're here, we're free

Falling all in you

You cover your mouth with your hands despite the fact that there’s no sound coming out of you once so ever. He’s still staring at you and you know that you’re gonna cry, but you’re just trying to hold on with everything that you have and it isn’t fucking working.

Every time I see you baby I get lost

If I'm dreaming, baby, please don't wake me up

Every night I'm with you I fall more in love

Now I'm laying by your side

By the time the song ends there’s not a chance in hell. Tears are streaming down your cheeks and Shawn has to find you a tissue because snot is an issue, and you don’t want this beautiful moment to be remember as the moment you had snot running down your nose. He goes to say something but you put your hand on top of his to lull him into silence.

“C--Can you play it again?”

He smiled softly. “‘Course I can.”

The second time isn’t any better, because now your body knows what to expect. It’s like you’re feeling all of it even more than you did the first time. He reaches your hand and tugs you gently into his lap as the song is slowly coming to a close. You wipe away another tear and he tucks your head under his chin with his arms wrapped around you. It’s the warmest you’ve ever felt in your life you think.

“I wanted to talk about what it felt like to fall in love with you.” He murmured. “I wanted to talk about how it feels to be loved by you, because it’s the greatest feeling I’ve ever felt in my life. Did I...did I do good?”

You reach for his face to hide the fact that your fingers had been trembling. You rubbed softly at his chin and jaw and cheeks, wondering if he knew how beautiful he was to you. It was the first time you’d ever been jealous of Shawn, because he could formulate his love with ease, but yours was simply trapped within you.

“You did so good, baby. No one has ever loved me like you have. I’ve never felt so full.” You whispered.

He squeezed gently at your thigh. “You deserve it. You deserve every bit of it. I wanna love you like that always.”

You kiss him because it's’ the only tangible thing your body has to even try to show him what he means to you. You scratch at his scalp and you tug lovingly at his curls. You map out the shape of his lips with your tongue and you try to convey it all through touch. You think maybe that he gets it if the way that he holds you in silence for twenty minutes straight is any indication. When you go home that night it’s with the understanding that no one is really capable of hurting what you have. Your love is this thing that has you bound to one another, and no matter how hard it was gonna be you’d see it through without fail. Because...love.

#Shawn mendes #Shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes one shot #Shawn mendes x reader #Shawn mendes x you #Shawn mendes x y/n #Shawn mendes x female reader #Shawn mendes college au

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quietdaysco · 5 years

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Primrose Path - Devlog #006

Hey, it’s us again—two indie devs with fresh dirt on our visual novel progress. Ready?

Behind the Scenes

Playtesting Feedback

Last month we closed the pre-alpha Ink build of Primrose Path’s common route outline. It met its purpose of proving the basic concepts of our game were viable and that it interested players in our target demographic. In fact, playtesters gave us overwhelmingly positive feedback in our post-test form about the characters and story. Here are a few quotes from their responses:

“The number of elements of the MC's [main character’s] life added in to the story in increments helped me not only relate to the MC but also stay interested.”

“There's a good variety of calmer moments and more outlandish/exciting/otherwise more high tension moment [sic], no issues for me.”

“[T]he clients are a rainbow of people with a few that [sic] very much stand out [to me]”

“By the end, I was definitely considering who I was going to chose as my client and was sad the pre-alpha ended even though I knew it was going to.”

“I 100% would dance [in a mini-game similar to] DDR [Dance Dance Revolution]”

As you can see, the beginnings of Primrose Path went over well and players definitely had a lot of interesting things to say about our mischievous clients! We can’t spoil them here, but you may be able to see for yourself when alpha testing comes to our server in the future!

Now, for all the good we received, it’s not to say the pre-alpha went without its criticisms:

“This might be silly, but I wish there were an option that weren't a dress for her outfit to the party.”

It’s not silly at all, playtester! It had us thinking about the different ways our protagonist, Lynn Austen, could express herself. This concern lead to one outfit redesign and introduced a number of new ones!

“The beginning was a little slow, but I love Priya, so all of her scenes brought my attention back instantly.”

We love co-worker and bestie, Priya, too, but she can’t be an exception for pacing. We’ve since reevaluated and tweaked Part 1: Work Day. Plenty of visual changes and cutting scenes entirely were discussed in order to tighten up the overall pacing.

“Harper seems harsh but has pressure on her to make her harsh, but then you see her and shes [sic] just straight up scary.”

While all playtesters understood Harper’s role as Lynn’s no-slack boss, a few found her consequentially unapproachable. We have a lot in store for her in later routes, but acknowledge she was sparse during the common route. We’ve since taken this concern and made her more available in new scenes, adjusted her tone in some of the older ones, and had other characters—who have a very different relationship with her than Lynn does—reflect more openly on her. We think this humanizes Harper much more.

“Unfortunately [Bellarmino] feels like a snobbier, more irritating Matt. [...] I personally don't find him very likable but I'm looking forward to being proven wrong.”

In our feedback form, we asked about character impressions. We also polled if players didn’t have to play all routes at least once, which clients they’d pick. While character impression responses expressed a willingness to give our model and fashion designer, Bellarmino LaFauci, a chance, he was our least popular choice in the poll. We figured it may have been that his personality wasn’t differentiated enough against the company with whom Lynn encounters him, so we’ve made adjustments to contrast him more against his judgmental cabal.

So as we went through and addressed feedback, we had some ideas of our own to implement, which leads us to...

Updated Revised Outline

Double the wordcount! Yep, we’re just shy of 32,000 words for the revised common route outline. How could this be? Look: don’t mistake Primrose Path for a linear narrative. Your choices affect the world from day one.

Beyond changes from playtester feedback, other new content includes:

New Characters! We work to make sure our side characters leave an impression. We’ve added a few more with the means to salvage or devastate Lynn’s career. Until you yourself can meet them, look out for future Lore snippets on our Twitter!

New Events! Lynn has more opportunities than before, and under different states of mind, to navigate and impact the world around her. Depending on what Lynn did, where, and when can completely change an encounter within that same space and time.

New Key Items! There are a couple of items Lynn can collect if she meets the right people and takes certain actions. These items can reveal some important information in client routes later on—and some hints for others, too!

New Areas! A few more places have been added to the common route, including whole new scenes. What could possibly lie behind these doors?

So how’s that sound? If you said “Damn, that’s hella rad,” well you just took the words right out of our mouths. But we’re not done yet; we take feedback seriously. When we can’t decide on what our audience may want, we leave no room for speculation. There’s really only one way to settle that.

VN Protagonist Sprite Survey

We run a survey! We wanted to know how visual novel fans preferred to see a customizable MC represented as a sprite, if at all. It’s tough for us because as much as we want to make Lynn as visually present as her sense of self, we also acknowledge that “immersion” for many players also means different levels of “intrusion” from MC’s sprite—down to none at all, for folks wanting to self-insert despite taking on another character’s existing backstory. While we think we’ve come to a happy medium that serves our purposes and would appeal to a good number of players, we’ll be sharing with you all in a separate post our findings.

Two things are for certain:

Visual novel players are an incredibly dedicated base, having turned out over 100 responses to our form! Thank you so much for helping us see your side on the matter!

The communities we frequent overwhelmingly take issue with one specific manner of MC representation—one that seems to plague the industry. If you’re not an avid consumer of visual novels, this begrudged answer may surprise you!

But hey, we haven’t closed it yet: you can contribute your opinion too until August 5th, 11:59 PM EDT. Stay tuned for our detailed write-up on the results, next time. We’ve got another survey in the works too (sounds like we’ve got a few hard decisions, huh?) so keep tabs on our Twitter when we release that form.

Greyson’s Twitter

Greyson’s been taking a break from Twitter for a minute. Working Saturday, Sunday, and Wednesday overheated him, and in that vulnerable time, he caught a virus! So now he’s on sick leave and we’ve promised him an easier schedule of one day a week when he gets better. His posting schedule will be announced soon. You can still send him some love on his Twitter account. He’ll be sure to respond when he’s feeling up to it. He’s always there for you. Will you return the favor?

Main Game Progress

Common Route:

Rough Outline: 100% ✔

Revised Outline: 100% ✔

Draft Script: --%

The Artist: Matthias Barousse

Rough Outline: 100% ✔

Revised Outline: --%

Progress on the main game has primarily been on the common route outline. Some interesting things to note are that last time we reported our revision to be at 90%. After implementing feedback, our clean outline doubled in word count and we’ve reviewed it entirely since then. So now we’re thoroughly at 100%!

The breakdown of that is:

We finished up the common route’s Part 3: The Interviews, in which Lynn meets all her clients whom she may or may not have stumbled upon at a legendary bash.

We elaborated on Part 2: The Party encounters and added more variations which subsequently trickle over into alternate interactions in The Interviews.

We added an interactive, portent dream sequence the night of The Interviews, right when Lynn hits the bed after evaluating all potential clients at work.

... and a few other additions. Also among other things, we’ve actually started work on the draft script already, but we’ve not had time to properly calculate the percentage. It’ll be updated accordingly in our next log.

What’s Next For Us

We’re going to finish up our script draft and start focusing our efforts into creating a playable, visual alpha build of Primrose Path. Yes, we want to play our game as much as you do and that’s motivation enough!

We’re focusing on monthly devlogs for our Tumblr, but we have to ask:

Are there other kinds of content and updates you folks would like to see here? We want to know! Shoot us a message in our Ask the Devs inbox here on Tumblr, or hit us up on Twitter, Discord, and Lemma Soft!

Thanks for reading! Keep up and remember to enjoy your Quiet Days. ♥

Socials

- Micro-updates on Twitter!

♦ Factoids with Greyson!

- Live art development on Twitch!

- Art logging on Instagram!

- Ask us anything here!

- Continue the discussion on Discord!

- Master thread on Lemma Soft!

#devlog #primrosepath #visual novel #otome #english otome #indiedev #gamedev #otomedev

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nextgennews-blog1 · 7 years

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Frida: Be Yourself by Allyson Elliott

Magdalena Carmen Frida Kahlo y Calderon: if you somehow don't know her name, I'm sure you know her face.

Frida was born July 6, 1907, and has become one of the most iconic figures of our time 110 years later, predominately in the feminist movement. How, do you ask? She believed in the equality of all sexes and classes. She interpreted and portrayed shamelessly not only many intimate moments of the female condition but of the human experience as a whole. Regardless of actual fact she insisted on claiming July 7, 1910 for her true birth date as to be unequivocally aligned with the birth of the Mexican Revolution, one of the lesser ways she determined the truth of her own life.

“They thought I was a Surrealist, but I wasn’t. I never painted dreams. I painted my own reality.”

She had an undeniable tenacity in the face of a life filled with a myriad of physical pain and emotional turmoil. At the age of 6 she was diagnosed with polio leaving her with a limp she would carry the rest of her life. She experienced a nearly fatal trolley accident at the age of 18, which she survived but suffered numerous injuries. The severity of which would incite over 30 surgeries through the course of her life and rendered her incapable of bearing children. Heartbreaking as it is, we can thank that fateful accident for instigating Kahlo’s love of painting. She was confined to a bed in a full body cast for months with nothing to do but consume herself in her art. “I was Born a Bitch. I was Born a Painter” and no one dare combat her on this or any front. She died at the mere age of 47. In her brief lifetime she received acclaim though nothing compared to the persona she now embodies.

She loved herself as all of us should. Never giving way to conventional standards of beauty by plucking or shaving a single hair on her body. She boldly broke convention and never drifted away from who she wanted to be; you could take it or leave it. Her first painting was of herself: "Self-Portrait in a Velvet Dress."

On the back of the canvas Frida wrote in German “Heute ist immer noch,” meaning “Today is always.” She lived in the moment and mostly for herself.

“The only thing I know is that I paint because I need to, and I paint whatever passes through my head without any other consideration.”

Her passion for painting was spurred by her need to express and vent her frustrations making it challenging to separate Frida’s personal life from her artwork (not that it necessarily should be.) Many artists often return to beloved themes, Frida’s most beloved was herself. An oeuvre containing 143 paintings, 55 of which were self portraits. “I am my own muse, I am the subject I know best. The subject I want to know better.”

One of Kahlo’s most famous and brutally honest works is that of “The Broken Column”

“My painting carries with it the message of pain.” Depicted here crying in anguish from the injuries she had endured. She is split in two with her stable spine replaced by decaying stone. She experienced chronic pain the entirety of her life but never hid behind it. She embraced those cracks as part of who she was and only became stronger for it. Nails pierce her body and face, and yet despite her tears she gazes straight at the viewer as if to defy any weakness.

However, her vulnerability manifested in a similar manner to that of many women today: a man. I am not by any means a man hating feminist and neither was Frida, I say this as for many years she was overshadowed and seen only as the wife of renowned muralist Diego Rivera. Frida and Diego’s marriage was tempestuous to say the least. “There have been two great accidents in my life. One was the trolley and the other was Diego. Diego was by far the worst.” Countless affairs were had on both sides, Frida with both men and women, neither party exerted much effort to conceal their infidelities from the other and yet with this quote she seemingly views herself as the victim. Perhaps it is due to Diego’s most monstrous betrayal. That of a lustful love affair between him and her sister, resulting in their subsequent divorce.

As a result of this deception one of Frida’s greatest masterpieces was created. “Self-Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird”

Multiple interpretations are seen in many of her works through symbolism born intensely in her imagery. This particular composition has a slew of interpretations in and of itself. Bearing an unraveled crown of thorns as a necklace drawing blood as they penetrate her flesh dripping to a pristine white frock presents her in a martyr like fashion. It may be a wit hypocritical, as she too had her fair share of lovers. She was duped by both husband and sister. I’d say there are worse things she could do than claim no fault in the matter. The hummingbird indicative of freedom, luck in love, sometimes war, and perhaps even emblematic of Frida herself, dangles lifelessly. A fervent picture of her soul, no doubt. The Monkey on her back (both literally and figuratively) was a personal pet, and gift from Diego (literally and figuratively.) Also symbolic of the devil and animal sexuality. Sitting opposite a black cat, symbol of bad luck and death. Is this a representation of Good vs. Evil? If so which is Good, which is Evil? Feasibly, The Spirit vs. The Flesh? Which side should she choose? Maybe neither. The Butterflies have been said to represent her own resurrection. Considering this and the fact that the couple remarried only one year following their divorce, I believe she chose the path of forgiveness and she knew she would all along. The heart wants what the heart wants and the pain of losing Diego possibly was worse than the pain caused by his scandalous acts. “At the end of the day, we can endure much more than we think we can.” Diego might have been her biggest weakness but she loved him and it took great strength of will be able to accept these facts and move forward. Embracing the life she wished to lead against the judgement of others.

Due to her brutal and unforgiving honesty Frida redefined the personal as political and believed to be painting ‘Revolutionary Realism’. Her Cultural Nationalism is reflected in her "Mexicanidad" (love of things Mexican). Placing an emphasis on Pre-Columbian traditions in an effort to purify the effects of colonization in Mexico and reclaim lost traditional values of the civilization. Yet the intensity of her personal life frequently eclipses the profoundly intelligent woman, utterly brilliant technical painter, and devout Communist/Stalinist that she was.

Fridamania first struck, hard, in the mid 1980’s but over the past few years there has been a definite resurgence in her popularization. Her image is plastered indelibly on every style of merchandise you can imagine. Posters, shoes, coasters, bags and inspiration from her styling expanding further everyday. Numerous exhibitions have surfaced not only of her works but of artists directly inspired by her paintings and personality as well as recreations of her home and belongings. Just last spring she joined the ranks of the top 10 highest selling female artists when one of her paintings sold for 8 million dollars at auction. She undoubtedly deserved every inch of this praise, still how is it that in a day an age where information is at the beck and call of our fingertips Frida’s love of herself had been trivialized with proclamations titling her “Queen/Mother of the selfie”. Outwardly her body of art is once more dwarfed by her personal life when they truly they are one in the same and should be viewed and appreciated side by side. However, because she embodied self-empowerment, if her image or artwork has reached and resonated with you in one way or another I believe she would want me to leave you with this final thought. “I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me, too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this and know that, yes, it’s true I’m here, and I’m just as strange as you.”

#frida kahlo #art #feminism #self portrait #fridamania #allysonelliott #writing

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allthevmff · 5 years

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Reiterated Promises

by TroubleScout

Well, it took him a good number of years, but Logan finally succumbed to his squad’s, and hilariously Weevil’s, razzing about his un-inked skin. The Navy and body art have a long and storied history, but it really seemed like Logan was set to eventually retire without that kind of tale of his own.

“What would I get?” he used to say to me, always followed by some variation of, “An eagle soaring across my back? A giant star-spangled flag rippling in nonexistent wind on my chest? You in a saucy pin-up number with ample cleavage emblazoned on my—?” Then he’d pause with a twinkle in his eye and say, “Hold on a second, I may need to rethink this,” but he was never serious.

And truthfully, I was always sort of selfishly glad for his disinterest. I loved his sun dappled, freckly skin just the way it was. I also secretly didn’t want him branded by the Navy any more than he already was. I worried enough about the dangers of his career, I didn’t need another visual reminder in addition to the buzz cut.

But then a funny thing happened though, it was me who got properly buzzed with my pals and stumbled into a tattoo parlor in the middle of the night.

Whoops-a-daisy.

It was two tours ago now when somehow post-case victory drinks with Mac and Weevil turned into Weevil getting grilled about his body art. Mac was toying with the idea of getting a tattoo herself and wanted to know if he could recommend anybody. Turned out his friend Snake, real name Pablo, had a shop just around the corner so we meandered our way there.

We were casually browsing designs lining the walls when Snake busted out his needles mid-conversation and cornered poor Mac expectantly, “So, whatdya want?”

Her eyes grew round with fear. “Oh, I wasn’t— I mean, I was just doing research— I’m not sure—,” she stammered.

Logan had been deployed for 4 months at that point and the cherry on top? He’d been radio silent for 2 weeks. In a boyfriend-sick daze of beer and longing, I had stared at the sheets of nautical designs populating the back corner, making a decision, shocking as it was.

“I’ll get one.”

“Uh, Veronica?” Mac hedged.

Weevil managed to looked simultaneously dubious and impressed. “You sure, V?”

“Yup. One tramp stamp. Lay it on me!” I insisted ebulliently, making my way to the chair.

“What are you going to get?” my friends asked and I mildly slurred, “That’s for me to know and you to neeeever find out.”

I even whispered my choice to Snake and made Mac and Weevil do an about-face so they wouldn’t know the location of this intoxicated decision either.

My faith in Snake was a bit shaken when he’d said, “You know that’s not actually where a tramp stamp goes, ay chica?” but I soldiered on.

“I feel like if Wallace was here this definitely wouldn’t be happening,” Mac mused nervously. “Please don’t be pissed in the morning that I didn’t stop you from branding Tweety Bird on your ass or whatever the hell it is.”

“I sorta always pictured something featuring a lightening bolt. You know, ‘cause of the taser?” Weevil shared and I scoffed, “Hey, eyes on your lock screen pal! Quit picturing.” Weevil happily checked the time on his phone with a smile, staring at Jade and Valentina’s grinning faces, and I undeniably envied him.

“It’s gonna hurt,” Snake reminded me as he poised the needle.

“No kiddin’. I heard from a F · R · I · E · N · D, these things ‘got licked on by kittens’.”

“Last chance to chicken out.”

I didn’t hesitate, “I like my choice.”

It was a tiny anchor just inside my hipbone, deep Navy blue to boot.

—

When I told Logan about it via Skype a week later, I was pretty nervous about it. He’s never been judgmental about things like this, but in the sober light of day I had this momentary panic where I thought he might hate it. Or at least not love it on me.

Boy, was I wrong.

His eyes bloomed like mainlined something, but a good rush of blood to groin will do than to you. It was a satisfying reaction to be sure, but more than that, I desperately adored how befuddled and touched he seemed to be at the mere concept the tattoo would have anything to do with him.

“But an anchor’s a Navy thing?” he said stupidly and I blushed.

“Well, my honey is in the Navy you know. Flies fancy jet planes and everything.”

“You don’t say.”

I wouldn’t show him the tattoo either, even though he practically begged me. Actually, there was no “practically” about it. He did beg me.

“Just imagine it,” I told him with a feral grin.

“Veronica.” His voice was like molasses in his throat. Syrupy and warm. I loved it.

“Come home to me. You can see it then.” I told myself I wasn’t trying to incentivize him, but I was lying. It was shameless blackmail, through and through.

“You expect me to fly straight with that mental image rattling around?”

“You better. If I lose my anchor, I'll be permanently adrift.”

It might have been the most directly-indirect thing I'd ever said to him, so of course the screen immediately went blank from a failed connection. My reaction was torn between, "Fucking Navy!" and "Thank goodness!".

Intimacy issues? Who, me?

—

I was pretty fond of the inky mark myself. I took to stroking the tiny anchor when I thought of him. It became a strange touchstone, maybe worry-stone, definite erotic zone. I couldn’t wait to feel his hands run across it, his mouth, his tongue, his teeth; then dip lower. Imagining him going down on me — below it — got me through some serious masturbation mental blocks during some tough nights.

And then, when he finally did get home, coincidentally he took to rubbing it absentmindedly himself. I really don’t think he even knew he was doing it most of the time and I didn’t point it out because I was afraid he might stop. It was so soothing and such a turn on at the same time. It literally became difficult not to just grab him by the wrist and shove his hand down my pants early on. A couple of times, I admit, I didn’t find the restraint.

It’s a good thing no one goes to movies 3 months post release date except the formerly deployed. Disappearing on Hunter and my mom at Legoland on the other hand? Not marked by such desertion. Neither was the beach at midday, but what can you do?

—

It would take nearly another year to execute, but as it turned out, our mutually discovered affection for my body art inspired Logan to seek out some of his own…

A little help from Weevil sourcing an artist and two weeks before his last tour he came home with his inner forearm bandaged, just below the elbow. I'd snatched it up in my grasp, fearful he had hurt himself. When I’d seen the multitude of color beneath a clear wrapping, I’d exclaimed in panic at the sight: “What’d you do to my pretty skin?!”

His eyes were warm and sweet and he gave me a bashful shirk. “Reiterated a promise.”

“What promise? When did you promise me a permanent bird? I feel like I’d remember that.”

“It’s a swallow. It always comes home.”

Of course, like any reasonable person, I proceeded to scale him like a jungle-gym.

After, we lay in bed. He laid on his side in silence, casually fingering my hip with a sigh.

“What?” I asked.

He smirked, “Just lamenting how tattoo-representation-of-me has much better living quarters than I do.”

“Well you can live in my pants if you want, but you’ll have to stay home to do it.”

He groaned loudly, clearly disgruntled, and hauled me to him.

I gave him a smile, asking, “Did I win yet?” knowing I hadn't, but smug all the same.

He rolled his eyes and looked to the ceiling, “I don’t want to go.”

But I knew the truth, “Yes you do.’

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“I’ll be here when you get back.”

—

Post deployment, I’d barely gotten a chance to get used to seeing his first ‘Sailor Jerry’ style tattoo in person before he’d up and gotten another. A mirroring swallow on his other forearm — as was tradition upon a sailor’s safe return.

And now, post tattoos, Logan’s penchant for rolling up his sleeves has become even more tantalizing to me than it already was. His body art is a proud declaration of love and loyalty and dedication — to himself and to me — creeping out from under his hems on the regular. Tattoos had always been intriguing, but now, on him, the’ve become this extraordinarily potent catnip.

It’s a boring, chore-filled Sunday afternoon and I’m drying the dishes while he washes, but suddenly I feel like I’ve stepped into some paperback, bodice-ripping romance… Everything is raising my blood pressure… The wax on, wax off motion of his arm. The way he flips the sponge from the soft side to the scrubby side and then back again. The way the little muscles in his forearms twitch and jump beneath his skin, beneath the tattoos. All the while bathed in the golden light of the setting sun filtering through the bay window. It’s all driving me crazy and I feel hot and flushed and my thighs ache from clenching. Enough is enough.

I throw down the towel. “Logan, you’re going to have to stop doing that.” My voice comes out gruff and he glances at me confused.

“Doing what?”

I gesture to his arms like it's obvious and he sees his cuff has gotten soaked. He assumes this is what I’m referencing and he pushes his sleeves up higher, past his elbows. They strain against his biceps as he continues to work. His tattoos now on full, unobstructed display, I huff. I’m officially breathless and frustrated. “Okay, crap." I take the metal mixing bowl he's offering me and drop it on the countertop with a noisy, swirling clang.

He looks at me concerned, but I just steal the sponge out his hand and chuck it in the sink while forcibly turning his hips around to pin him against the counter, his multicolored forearms dripping wet like a newly prepped surgeon.

“Honey, what’s—?”

I proceed to place the little stool I use to reach to upper cabinets in front of him and kneel, very determinedly dislodging his belt buckle intent on freeing him. His mind has whiplash, but his body reacts quickly.

"Why the hell did I ever resist tattoos?"

"Beats me."

via AO3 works tagged 'Veronica Mars (Movie 2014)' https://ift.tt/2Uzz9Mk March 20, 2019 at 11:36PM

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