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lfcology · 3 years

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you’ll float too | fred weasley

summary: another part of the phobia series. FRED LIVES AU! two years after the war, victoire weasley is turning 1 year old! hermione plans the party with muggle surprises including a clown -- something you’ve had a crippling fear of since you were a child. fred is a bit insecure.

pairing: Fem!Reader x Fred.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: None besides the fear of the clowns.

When the war was over, and all the rubble was gone, everyone in the Wizarding World did their best to return to any sense of normality they could. For Hermione and Ron that meant finally exploring a relationship together. For Fred and George, it meant opening up the shop again. Bill and Fleur however had arguably the most exciting change of all.

A year after so many lives were lost, little Victoire Weasley was brought into the world. Molly and Arthur made it their goal to spoil the first Weasley grandchild like no other and all of the siblings were enamoured by the tiny angel. Her hair was a gorgeous blonde that matched her mother’s, but her eyes held the Weasley mischief inherited from her father.

Charlie made it a point to move closer after the war and being away for so long and Percy made sure to stop by every Sunday after he made amends (Molly welcomed her boy back with open arms). Fred was one of the only constants in your life over the years so when he asked for you to move into the flat above the shop with him and George, it was a no brainer. Family time was at an all-time high for the Weasleys so with Victoire's first birthday approaching it was going to be a monumental celebration.

Hermione suggested she plan the party so Bill and Fleur could finally have some much-needed rest (for once). As expected, she was an excellent party planner. Everything was mapped out but the most exciting part for her was her plan to incorporate some muggle traditions into the party. With the Weasleys having never experienced muggle treats like blowing out candles, pinãtas, or (your least favourite) clowns. You were over the moon to be part of this special day, however, when she mentioned bringing a clown you knew you couldn't go. Without thinking, you made up a quick apology as to why you couldn't attend – something about needing to work, covering a shift for someone on short notice.

Being muggle-born meant you were exposed to clowns at a fairly young age through carnivals, parades and parties. You were never overly fond of them, always finding them quite strange but when a friend of yours suggested you read Stephen Kings It, you despised them. They scared you in a way you could barely put into words. From their laughs to their makeup and wigs, it made your skin crawl. As much as you hated them, however, you knew how excited everyone else was to have this muggle experience: Fred and George specifically.

Once Hermione had explained to them that the whole purpose was to tell jokes and make people laugh, the twins were hooked. Much to your dismay, this meant they didn't stop talking about it around the flat and both had quite the pouts when you said you couldn't go (they were almost convincing enough to make you change your mind).

"You've never worked a Saturday until now," Fred said as he crossed his arms. "Can't someone else cover? Why does it have to be you?"

You sighed from your spot in the bath. You'd set up a lovely spa evening for yourself as Fred was supposed to be working late like he did every Friday. However, 10 minutes into your bubble bath and champagne time, he was home and questioning you. You two had been dating for 2 years and friends for even longer so it wasn't hard for him to tell you were hiding something.

"It's a scheduling mistake I made." You shrugged. "It's too late to get someone to cover."

His only reply was a not so intimidating scowl. Which made you sigh and sit up from the tub a bit more (the bubbles hiding all the important stuff). "Everyone else will be there Freddie, it'll be okay." Fred sat on the closed toilet seat and undid his tie from around his neck. He was tired from a busy work week and didn't feel like arguing with you but he wanted answers.

"Georgie and I are closing the shop for it.... 'Mione is getting time off from the Ministry too. Even Harry ended an Auror mission early!" You rubbed your temples and sighed: if there was one thing about Fred Weasley, it was that he was stubborn as hell. What you didn't expect however, was what he said next.

"Listen, George thinks it's something else but you're hiding something and avoiding me and-" He sighed looking away from you as his shoulders sagged. "Are you cheating on me?"

You stared at him with your mouth agape. Did he have so little faith in you? You needed to make sure he knew the truth ASAP – you never meant your white lie to lead to this. "I never meant to-" You began.

"Who is it?" He asked, jaw clenching.

"Fred-" You said getting up and wrapping yourself in a towel. "I would-" He tried to cut you off again but you'd had enough of him pointing fingers. "I'm scared of clowns!" You all but shouted at him.

He was confused, to say the least.

"What?"

"I'm scared of clowns." You repeated more firmly as you walked closer to him. He was still quite speechless, to be honest, he'd prepared himself for the worst after all. Fred, despite many thinking he was incredibly carefree, overthought absolutely everything. George tried to be a voice of reason and calm him down but once the idea of you hiding something from him entered his mind – it spiralled.

"Freddie, I would never ever cheat on you. You're the only one I'll ever want." You reassured as you stroked his shoulders. He sat up straight and looked up at you from where you stood between his legs. "I knew you and Georgie were excited about the clown coming so I didn't want to ruin the mood and mention that they scared me." You said softly.

His hands found their way to your hips and he ducked his head in embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry... I didn't mean to assume the worst but you know how I can be sometimes." He chuckled sheepishly. "You wouldn't have ruined the fun love, I'm sure if we mention it to Hermione she can cancel the clown."

"No!" You interjected. "Victoire will probably love it and I don't plan on ruining even more peoples fun..."

"Victoire also loves you," Fred reassured and squeezed your hips gently. "And she may not remember her first birthday but I'm sure she'd rather see you in the photos than a grown man dressed up in a silly costume."

You leaned down and kissed his softly feeling relieved for the first time in a while – he always had a way with words. "Why don't we change into some PJs then talk about why you're scared of them?"

Fred, having so many siblings, was extremely good when it came to being open and communicating one's fears and dreams. The pair of you got into comfier clothes (you donned in one of his old quidditch sweaters for an extra sense of comfort when discussing such a daunting subject). Once you two were settled on the double bed you shared, you reached under and pulled out a worn down box. Inside you found a few knickknacks that never found a place when you moved in with Fred and a tattered copy of It. Despite being the bane of your existence it looked well-loved from being lent out to friends, cried on and thrown around over the years.

"This is It." You said laying the book in your lap. Fred quirked his eyebrow in confusion and took the book as you explained more. "When I was younger, my friend suggested I read this. It's about an evil killer clown named Pennywise."

Fred nodded along and read the description on the back of the book. His brows furrowed in concentration as he looked through the worn-out pages.

"This does seem rather frightening." He said after you looked at him expectantly. "Especially if you read this as a kid!" You nodded and felt relief wash over you when he didn't laugh or make fun. You'd always thought it was a stupid fear to have – something that was meant to bring joy to people ended up terrifying you.

"What really got me was the film." You began. "There's a muggle adaptation and seeing the clown made it so much more real." You shivered as you explained.

"I reckon I could take him." He said puffing his chest out proudly. It wasn't what you expected him to say but when has Fred Weasley ever been one that someone can easily read? Your hand came up to your mouth and you stifled a giggle.

"In what way?" You teased.

"Well, in terms of comedy I've got him beat hands down! Eating kids isn't funny so I reckon he's a terrible clown." He replied not quite understanding that you were egging him on. He was more focused on proving his superiority over Pennywise. "And phyically! I'm 6'4" and even though I don't play Quidditch as regularly anymore I don't doubt I'm still more fit than some old cannibal git."

You couldn't hold back your booming chuckles anymore and leaned back in bed laughing as he stood up. "I'll give him the one-two Weasley special!" He continued as he adjusted his PJs more comfortably. The contagious smile on your face was enough to tell him that his plan was working.

"He'd try to-" He took a bite of the air as if Pennywise was biting at him. "And I'd-" He followed up with a swing of his arm and a kick of his leg.

"My hero..." You said climbing off the bed and hugging him around his middle. He gave you a dimply smile and pressed his lips to yours quickly. "'M the only clown allowed in your life. I promise to fight off all the others."

"You have got the red hair and pale skin after all." You chuckled poking him in the side.

"Don't act like you wouldn't let me bite you." He replied cheekily.

By the time the next day came you felt much more at ease with Fred knowing how you felt. The icing on the cake was that the clown wasn't funny at all. Fred and George stepped in to do their own show after the comedy flop and the finale was Fred challenging the other clown to a brawl before sending a wink your way. Victoire had the time of her life and unanimously everyone agreed that the twins were a much more fitting form of entertainment.

Maybe clowns aren’t so bad after all.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley oneshot #harry potter #weasley family x reader #phobia series

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whattimeisitintokyo · 4 years

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Somos Familia Ch 39: It Hits the Fan

Chapter 39: It Hits the Fan

Today was the day!

Miguel's birthday!

Héctor chuckled to himself as he finished shaving and wiping off the leftover shaving cream off his face, leaving behind the little tuft of hair that was his goatee. He had often considered shaving it off completely, being too old to have such juvenile facial hair, but at this point in his life it was practically trademarked. All his official photos and even illustrations of him all had it. He was practically stuck with it.

He chuckled again, letting his mind drift over these trivial things that made him smile. Any thoughts that didn't include what this day also was. Yes, he would put items on the ofrenda for his beloved daughter, tell her how much he missed her and loved her. Even give a respectful nod to Ernesto's foto. But other than that his thoughts were only on Miguel's birthday party. All the family would be there, everyone would feast on Miguel's favorite meals, presents, games, laughter and love. If he just concentrated on that then the pain wouldn't be so bad.

He didn't sleep well last night. He never did on the days leading up to Dia de Muertos. He vaguely remembered waking up crying once last night, but he was soon lulled back to sleep by his wife's calming presence and he was fine afterwards. She didn't even say anything when he awoke the next morning, and he was thankful for that. He could pass off the dark circles under his eyes on his age, and no one besides Imelda would notice.

He stepped into his walk-in closet and pushed aside Imelda's beautiful dresses to get to his clothes. He was feeling particularly festive today and pulled out his royal purple suit jacket off the hanger. Thinking about which tie would go well with hit, he looked up and saw something gleaming in between the hanging clothes.

The golden tooth of a grinning skull.

Immediately his mood dropped as he blankly stared at the headstock of his once prized guitar. He didn't feel any pride or joy in looking at it, hadn't even played it for over nine years, but he couldn't bring himself to hate it either. Many times he had considered giving it away or, in his more depressive states, simply throw it into the dumpster where he felt it belonged.

But he never could. Because his beloved wife had given it to him on his birthday, oh so many years ago.

'Y-you… bought this for me?! I don't know what to say…'

'You don't need to say anything Héctor. Feliz Cumpleaños. Now stop saving your money for it and go buy yourself some food, tonto.'

And then she had kissed him for the first time ever. On the cheek, yes, but it had made his whole head burst into flames and his ears buzz. It was the true beginning of their relationship, and this guitar was the key. It was a precious moment in his life: a fond memory. So no, he couldn't get rid of it so easily. But it wasn't going to stay in the closet anymore either. He'd have a talk with Chente later about sending it off to Rivera de La Cruz Records to be put on display to the public if they wanted it. It would still be his, but he wouldn't have to look at it anymore.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Picking up a red necktie he pushed a bunch of clothes over the guitar, concealing it again, and walked away.

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

"Facundo! Don't smear icing on your sister's dress! Anselmo! Osvaldo! Stop fighting, you're in front of company, show some respect! Ay, Dahlia hold the baby for me, would you? You're the oldest, you need to help Papá."

Miguel walked into the courtyard with Victoria to absolute mayhem, with Victoria pulling him out of the way just in time before a sticky pastry struck the wall where his head was. Nodding his thanks to his niece he looked out to see Elena and Charlie playing with five other small, very rambunctious children dressed in their best church clothes. Soiled in mud, breakfast foods and sans shoes of course, but there was an effort to get Martín and Rosita's children dressed nicely for the special occasion. Martín was standing over them, trying not to be knocked down by the running, screaming children as he also tried not to drop the baby girl in his arms. Matty was also seated at the table set outside, holding Clara and looking very smug that his own children were behaving themselves properly, and Julio was looking out at the chaos with a thousand-yard stare.

Sitting down after finally passing the baby to his eldest, Martín slumped into a chair with a groan and leaned towards Matty in exhaustion. "Remember the Nazis? How easy it was with them? They were so neat and organized. Precise."

"They blew your leg off, amigo."

"At this point in my life, I wish they blew something else off."

"Papá, Papá!" One of Martín's sons came up to him, pulling on his sleeve and smiling with gapped teeth. "Charlie wants to play horses! Can we, por favor?"

"Ay, all right." Reaching down underneath the table, Martín fumbled around a little with belts and straps before pulling off and giving the child his prosthetic leg. "Don't get it dirty and do not, I repeat, do not… stick forks in it again."

Suddenly Julio sat up with a smile and shouted. "Hey everyone! The birthday boy is here!"

All the little children stopped immediately to look at Miguel standing in the doorway, before screaming again and running into him for hugs. This time Victoria didn't help, and Miguel let out a squawk when he was bombarded with seven sticky children. "Feliz cumpleaños, Miguel!" several little voices yelled out.

"Agh!... Gr-gracias… AHH! You guys are squeezing me to hard!"

"Ah, there you are mijo." Imelda swooped in and managed to pry the little ones off her son, brushing down his hair and giving him a kiss. "Fashionably late to your own party, I see. You look very nice today."

"Gracias, Mamá." Miguel said, pulling down his sleeves to cover up the wristbands that Victoria had made for him. 'I've gotta look nice for my performance tonight.' He said to himself. It wasn't a charro suit that he would have liked to wear, like a professional mariachi, but the bolo tie and shiny new boots were a nice touch.

"Well I hope your hungry." Imelda said. "We've been cooking up a storm all morning in that cramped little kitchen. And Wanda has made a delicious surprise for you."

"Cinnamon rolls!" Wanda said happily, placing a tray of pastries absolutely dripping with icing and candied nuts on the table. "My grandmother's recipe. I really hope you'll like them, but if you're anything like your brother then I know you're going to love them Miguel."

"No, I don't love them." Matty said, already double fisting the freshly glazed rolls with hungry eyes. "I'm damn near addicted to them. I crave them all day every day. But they're considered a Sunday food, and I'm forced to go without all week! It's torture, hermanito, pure torture."

"Which reminds me, since I'm making them on a Friday that means you've had them two times this week. So, we can skip them on Sunday and have them the next week."

"What?!"

"It's actually a little funny." Wanda said as Matty started to hoard as many rolls as he could in front of him. "Rosita's had three so far, but she's been pouring lime juice all over them. Lime juice! Can you believe it? How can you eat something so sour with something so sweet is beyond me!"

The others laughed a little and started to doll out the rest of the pastries to everyone else, with only Matty noticing the way Martín's face had turned pale white and he sunk lowly in his chair. "Lime juice?… Oh, no no no no nooo…"

Matty shook his head with pity, but mostly with exasperation, and ate his cinnamon roll. "Cochino…"

Breakfast was delicious, of course, and the party continued throughout the day. There were party games, cake and ice cream and even more sugary delights that threw all the little children into an even more manic frenzy until they had finally passed out underneath the shade of the tree. The ofrenda had been set up, decorated with flowers and offerings for Imelda's parents, Leti, the late Facundo and even Matty's friend Barto, while the adults shared stories of their dearly departed despite Héctor's best efforts to divert their attention to another party game or business idea he had. Even Chente and his best friend Javier had come to whish him a happy birthday to join the festivities. They always seemed really cool to Miguel, and he also felt like they understood his frustration with the lack of music.

Miguel absently kept checking the clock every so often, time seeming to move achingly slow as it creeped towards seven. He had hidden his guitar underneath the ofrenda table, somewhere he knew his father wouldn't be near that much, so it would be ready to be picked up when he left.

But for now his concentration was on opening the last birthday present, then he could go get his real gift. "Wow, sneakers! Gracias Tío Oscar y Tío Felipe!"

"Not just any sneakers." Felipe said proudly.

"But the new Rivera Freeflyers!"

"The new line of children's shoes-"

"-that goes on the market next year."

"Designed by us of course."

"But you're the first kid to wear them!"

"Feliz cumpleaños!"

Smiling, Miguel set the shoes back in the box. "That's really cool. Thanks again. Is that the last present? Aw man, that's sad. But I guess good things can't last forever. Well, if we're done I have some stuff I-"

"Atata. Not so fast, Miguel." Héctor walked up to him, smiling widely. "Because I also have a present for you."

Sitting back down, glancing at the clock again, Miguel's smile drooped a little in uncertainty. "Okay…"

Clearing his throat theatrically, Héctor stood next to his son in the center of the room spoke loud for all to hear. "Twelve years ago today, Miguel Rivera… beloved nephew, tío, brother and son… was brought into this world. A harrowing, frightful day for the whole family, especially for his dear mother, mi diosa, but one that ultimately ended in triumph. For that tiny baby was able to grow into a healthy little boy, and who has now grown into the fine young man standing before us all today."

"And since you are on the brink of adulthood, it's high time that we start thinking about your future, Miguel. Specifically what you're going to do for a living when you grow up. Now as much as we, and pretty much the whole world, loves your Mamá's shoes I get the feeling that's not where your passions truly lie. But after having a talk with Chente yesterday, we came to the conclusion that maybe your future lies with… Rivera de la Cruz Records."

Miguel noticed the way his father flinched at saying Ernesto's name, like he always did, but that didn't matter at the moment. There was a sudden bubbling of excitement and anticipation welling up inside of him, and he happily looked over at Chente for a confirmation. The former assistant, now CEO of the biggest movie and music production company in Mexico, gave him a silent smile and thumbs up. Turning back to his father with a big smile, Héctor continued.

"So your mother and I talked about it last night, and we both decided the best opportunity for you would be-"

Miguel could see it now: His name in lights, the crowd chanting his name, strumming a guitar just like, no better, than Tío Nesto's. Singing songs that he had written himself, the crowd singing along with him because they were so good, so memorable. Immortalized for all time by doing the one thing he truly loved to do: Playing the guit-

"-to start training you in business, just like your brother! And to start with that, we're going to enroll you in business management classes!"

…..

"… What?"

There was not a sound coming from anyone else in the room. Wanda, Julio and Coco looked at each other in complete disbelief and mild disgust, Matty slowly bringing his hand over his eyes in complete exasperation. The other adults in the room cringed and suddenly became very interested in their plates of leftover food and cake, except for Vicente and Javier. Poor Chente stared at Héctor like he had just condemned the man to his death, eyes wide and mouth agape in horror, while Javier was bent nearly in half in his chair. Shoulders shaking and biting down on his clenched fist, Javier was doing everything he could to not just bust out laughing at the entire fiasco in front of him. Oblivious to everyone's obvious displeasure of his grand announcement, Héctor continued.

"There's a school nearby. In San Benito. They specialize in training children for college. Mateo, you went there, remember?"

Nodding and smiling painfully, Matty said, "Yes, Papá. I remember going… I remember willingly going-"

"Well, you did so well there that we thought Miguel would too! Now, they've got a new program where they include room and boarding, and you can do your regular schooling there."

"Which" Imelda interjected, "I have already vetoed. They still have just the same smaller classes every other weekend that you went to, Mateo. I don't want our little boy to be away from home for so long."

"Right," Héctor said. "I agree with her. You'll still go to school here, so don't worry about that. You won't miss your friends or your family. But I feel like this is a great opportunity for you."

Miguel felt like congratulating himself for how well he was hiding his displeasure from his parents. No, displeasure was too light a word for how he was feeling. He felt like his face was about to break and shatter for how long he was holding the rictus of his earlier smile, and his heart and stomach freefalling down to his boots. He felt like he was slowly dying, and yet his parents were looking at him like they were doing this for his own good. And they were proud of it too!

Maybe it was his own fault: being so secretive about who he truly was and what his interests were. His parents didn't know who he was at all and thought he would be glad that they were practically dooming him to a fate worse than death.

Swallowing painfully, almost as if he felt like he was about to cry, Miguel croaked out. "W-well… That's… a lot to take in."

"It's just an idea, mijo." Héctor said gently, as if finally sensing that his son might not be totally ready for such a radical change in his life. "And you've got plenty of time to decide. We can talk about more in the morning alone."

"It's just that that- uh…" Miguel fumbled a little with his wristbands hidden under his sleeves. "I'm not like Matty was when he was my age. I mean… I'm more like a normal kid, you know. Not a nerd like him."

"…Hey…"

"I mean I not as smart as him. I won't be any good in a school like that."

"Don't worry about that, Miguel." Imelda said softly, placing her head gently on his head and smoothing his hair. "You'll have your family here to guide you. We'll help you every step of the way. You won't be alone."

"And to help you even more, here's another present!" Héctor said. From behind his back he pulled out a small briefcase, made from leather dyed in a brilliant shade of red, and the letters M.R. embedded on the front in solid gold. Placing in the boy's hands, Héctor smiled widely and clapped his hands with pride. "Look at that. Another businessman in the family! You look so professional already! Ha ha!"

Glancing down miserably at the briefcase, as if he were handed a live grenade instead, Miguel nodded and once more looked up at his parents with that same faked, gritting smile. "Gracias Papá… Gracias Mamá…"

"Aw, feliz cumpleaños, my boy!" Héctor said as he hugged his son happily. "And don't just thank me. Thank Chente, since this was also his idea!"

"Ohhh…." Vicente moaned, trying to ignore the way Javiar was applauding loudly next him with that stupid smug grin of his. "Please don't thank me…."

"Better watch out!" Héctor jokingly said. "One day Miguelito here will take your job out from under you!"

"…I'll do that…"

As the adults carried on with their conversation, Miguel kept looking at the briefcase in hands. It really was a beautifully designed briefcase, something that Matty probably carried around all the time and would probably love having himself, but all it did was make Miguel want to cry. This wasn't what he wanted at all. This wasn't him. And the fact that his own parents didn't see that in him, couldn't see that, broke his heart.

He would have started crying then and there until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning he saw Victoria standing next to him, giving him a look of sympathy and understanding. But also of defiance. Glancing down at the briefcase in disgust, she said, "Put that thing away and go get your guitar. Wanda and Papá will distract Abuelito and everyone else. It's showtime, Tio."

With a start Miguel looked over at the clock and gasped. All his inner turmoil had made him nearly forget about the contest! And it was in twenty minutes! With Victoria giving him an encouraging smile and a slight shove Miguel took off to the ofrenda room. Ducking underneath the tablecloth he flung the accursed briefcase underneath it and grabbed his prized guitar, feeling so much better now that it was in his hands. Glancing to his late sister's foto, and then to his Tío Nesto's, Miguel gave them a watery smile.

"Wish me luck." He whispered, and then headed out the doorway.

No one noticed he, Victoria, Matty and Coco leave the party at all.

Except for one little girl with a big mouth.

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

Picking up a small, fried grasshopper from the bowl on the side table, he twisted it to and fro for his grandson to see. It was such a lovely surprise: Here he thought there wasn't many chapulines left for the season, and then all of a sudden Julio gifted him with a heaping bowl of the crunchy little things! Then Wanda had come up to him, saying that his grandchildren wanted to spend some time with their grandfather and to tell them stories. He was more than happy too, even if it was odd that he and the children were practically shoved into the kitchen and the door was slammed shut. But for now, with Clara babbling happily in his arm and with Charlie's rapt attention, he continued his story.

"So at the end of the day, there I was: Scratched up by dried alfalfa, bitten all over by every mosquito there ever was, and with a bag of caught grasshoppers slung over my shoulder. I took it to old Señor Perales and he would fry them up for the customers, and for my pay he would give me a handful of them on a stale tortilla. Sometimes that would be the only thing that I would get to eat for the whole day. But I didn't mind much, it was worth it for me. They're good, no?"

"They're salty." Charlie said as he crunched one with a grimace.

"Sí. Salty, crunchy and my favorite snack. And that was the first job I ever had at four years old. Your age, mijo! Grasshopper catcher extraordinaire."

"My friend Timmy likes to pick out earthworms from his Mommy's garden and eats them too, even with dirt on them! Is that the same thing, Grandpa?"

"No, your friend's just odd."

"Oh."

The sound of the door being opened caused the three of them to look, only to see Elena poking her head in. Héctor was immediately worried: His granddaughter looked very troubled, staring at the floor and lip trembling, trying to decide if she should come in or not. Shifting the baby in his arms to free his hand he held it out. "Elena? Is there something wrong?"

Nodding a little, she slowly edged her way in and closed the door. "My tummy hurts…"

"Aww, too much cake and ice cream, huh?" Héctor asked kindly, squeezing her hand when she took it. "I guess it also didn't help that your cousins gave you too much excitement as well. Well, if you want I can walk you home-"

"It's not that, Abuelito." Elena said softly. "My tummy hurts because I feel guilty."

"Guilty? Did you and your sister have a fight? Because if you said or did something to make her upset I'm sure she'll forgive you. That's what a family who loves each other does, mija. We always forgive each other with time."

Eyes widening, Elena looked up at her grandfather with a slight glimmer of hope. "Really? Family forgives each other for anything?. They don't… get really mad and hate them for it?"

"Of course not."

Elena smiled a little at that, looking like she felt a little better. Then her smile faded, and she shook her head. "No, no… Papá says that I should always do what my parents say…"

Blinking in confusion, Héctor nodded in agreement. "Uh, yes… Yes, children should do what their parents say. Your Papá's right."

"Buuuut…"

"…But?"

"But you're Mamá's papá…" Elena said slowly, nervously picking at her fingers and biting her lip hard in agitation. "So, she has to do whatever you say… right?"

Now he was growing concerned. Pulling his granddaughter close to him, Héctor made Elena look at him squarely in the eye. "Elena, if something is wrong with your Mamá you need to tell me, claro? Now, what's going on?"

"….Well…"

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"Congratulations, Señor Magallanes."

"Oh you too, Mrs. Rivera."

Chuckling and clinking their mugs of coffee, Julio and Wanda sat on the old boarded up well and each took a sip of the hot brew. They watched as the Reyes children ran around the courtyard in a wild frenzy, having woken up from their sugar comas and putting an end to their parents' moment of peace and quiet, and smiled smugly to themselves. Both because they were thankful that their own children were not as wild and rambunctious, and also for a job well done.

"Nice work on getting the fried grasshoppers so late and getting so many. I'm told they're a seasonal…delicacy." Wanda grimaced at the word.

"Gracias. And that was a nice move of giving him your kids. 'Charlie wants to hear all about you when you were his age!'" Julio chuckled at that. "It really was a nice distraction."

Wanda hummed and gave a sultry smile, gazing off into the distance. "Well, Matthew has always said that I am… a master of distraction. In more ways than one"

"…Uh, right…" Taking an uncomfortable gulp from his coffee mug and coughing awkwardly, Julio changed the subject. "So when should they be back?"

"Well Miguel is the first act." Wanda said. "So it'll start at seven, he'll sing his little song, then Matthew and Coco will bring him right back. So I guess they should be back in about half an hour? Plenty of time before anyone notices they're gone. And if they ask we'll just say he went to a friend's house."

"Thirty minutes?" Julio asked, a little downhearted at the thought. "So, he won't get to stay to see if he wins?"

Wanda nodded in sympathy. "Yes, it is a shame. But honestly do you really think he would win? I mean, I know he's very good, but he'd be going up against musicians who have been playing for much longer than he's even been alive. It seems a little unlikely, right?"

"Sí, you're right… It still would be amazing if he did, though."

"Honestly I think the poor boy just wants to be heard. Can you blame him? Especially after that… gift his parents gave him. Ugh…"

"Sí. Let him have some fun for one night." Julio nodded, bring the cup back up to take a sip. "Thirty minutes. Plenty of time. Go out, perform, come back. No one will suspect a thing."

"All will be well." Wanda agreed.

The sudden slamming of a door hitting the wall startled everyone in the courtyard. All the children skidded to a halt, the adults stopped talking immediately, and all eyes turned towards a very livid Héctor Rivera.

"MIGUEL IS GOING TO PLAY THE GUITAR IN THE PLAZA?!"

Clara started to cry in fright in her grandfather's arms, but Héctor paid her no heed as he marched up Julio and Wanda. "Elena just told me that Miguel's playing in the contest! Julio, is that true?!"

Julio stared at his father-in-law, chalk white and looking like he was about to drop dead on the spot. His mouth worked itself up and down, but all that came out was choked squeaks and croaks. "Uh-uh…uh uh…ah…uh."

With a growl, Héctor turned his glare to his daughter-in-law. "Wanda, did you know anything about this?!"

Wanda, also much whiter than usual, managed to give a nervous half smile and shrugged with a weak chuckle. "Uh… No hablo es-pan-ol?..."

"Forget it!" Héctor shouted, placing the now screaming baby in her mother's arms and turning out to the exit. "You all want to go behind my back?! Fine! I'll put a stop to this myself!"

As Héctor left the courtyard in a mad dash, Julio wilted with a moan. "No no no no! This has all gone to hell. We had one job to do and we failed even that! Matty and Coco are going to kill us!"

Wanda shook her head, trying to calm down her poor baby. "No, they won't!"

"You're right. Only Coco is going to kill only me!" Julio cried. "Elena, why did you tell Abuelito?! You promised you wouldn't!"

Elena was sobbing by now. This wasn't supposed to happen: Abuelito had said that he wouldn't be angry, that he wouldn't hate Miguel for what he did. But it was all a lie! "You don't keep secrets from family, Papá! I couldn't stand lying to Abuelito!"

"What is going on here?!"

They all turned to see Imelda, Rosita, Martín and the twins coming out of the ofrenda room, confused as to why everyone was either in shock, scared or crying their eyes out. With a sigh Wanda came up to them. "Oh, Mamá Imelda, you might as well know now. Miguel was going to play the guitar at the music competition in the plaza-"

"What?!"

"- and Papá Héctor just found out. He's going after them to stop him. I've never seen him look so mad! I think he's going to do something-"

"Stupid…" Imelda finished, hitching up her skirts to run as fast as she could in her high heeled boots. "Dios mio, Héctor! Héctor come back!"

"Oh Rosita, could you take the baby?" Wanda asked as she handed Clara to Rosita. "I need to go to! Matthew might need my help! Come on Julio, Coco needs you to!"

"Wait! Coco will need my help as well!" Rosita cried out. "Martín, mi amor, hold the baby and hold down the fort. Oscar, Felipe! Let's go!"

"Wait, what?!" Martín cried out, watching helplessly as all the adults ran out of the Rivera complex, leaving him alone with nine children all under eight years old, screaming and crying with fright. Looking at Clara in one arm and his own crying daughter in the other, Martín growled in frustration. "Oh sure! Leave all the kids with the one guy who can't run away! I see how it is! This is discrimination! I am a war veteran, I deserve some respect and a break!"

"Don't worry, Tío Martín…" Elena sadly said, taking Clara away from her uncle and holding the baby close. "I'll help you with the babies…"

"Ay, gracias Elenita." Martín sighed in relief, patting her head gratefully. "You're a good kid."

Burying her face in her little cousin's blanket, Elena tried to hide as the tears came pouring out again with her sobs. She wasn't good. She didn't deserve the praise. She deserved to be punished, not Miguel. Miguel was going to be kicked out of the family. Abuelito hated him now.

It was all her fault.

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

"I knew it." Miguel moaned as he, his siblings and Victoria made their way to the plaza. Clutching his guitar for dear life, as if he was afraid it would be ripped away from him, he hung is head low while Victoria guided him by his shoulders. "I knew Papá would never even consider letting me play music, he just hates it too much. I'm gonna have to play in secret for the rest of my life."

"Yeah." Victoria sighed with a pout. "I guess I'm going to have to as well. I'll never get to dance in the likes of La Scala or the Royal Opera House. I'd even settle for dancing at a rec center at this point."

"Cheer up, both of you." Matty said. "Miguel, you know Papá doesn't hate music. He just… has some hang-ups about it that is hard for him to overcome. A lot of bad things happened to him, and he attributes it to music. You understand, sí?"

"No, I don't." Miguel said. "And that's easy for you to say. Papá sang and danced with all three of you and let you play instruments. I never had that."

"That's not true, Miguel." Coco said. "Papá used to sing to you all the time, especially when he tucked you into bed. And he played his guitar for you, don't you remember that?"

"No. I was a baby, Coco."

Coco tsked and shook her head in mock sorrow. "Well that is a shame. You should remember stuff like that. I, for one, can remember stuff quite vividly all the way from when I was about two years old. It's a gift I possess."

Breaking out of his current funk, Miguel looked up at his older sister and smirked. "Gee Coco, maybe you should be the one in the talent show instead of me."

Matty barked out a laugh and nodded. "Yeah, you could tell everyone what you had for breakfast in May of 1936."

"Or recite an old shopping list you made ten years ago." Victoria added.

Coco huffed and crossed her arms with pout. "All right, all three of you can go kiss a burro."

"Well we can't do that now, because," Matty said as they rounded the corner, "we have arrived at our destination."

As they all walked into the plaza, Miguel smiled when he saw the gazebo decked out in the familiar decorations for Dia de Muertos: garlands of cempazuchitl flowers, papel picado and, most excitingly, posters for the contest. He also saw several other musicians dressed up in charro suits and practicing on their own instruments. They had probably been practicing for much longer than he ever had and were probably better than him too. But Miguel didn't care if he won or lost the contest, he just wanted to perform in front of people. To show them all that he had what it took to be a musician. And luckily for him there were plenty of people who had come to watch.

A very… large amount of people.

Practically the whole town. Even other kids from his school were there.

Suddenly Miguel felt a nauseous curl in his belly, and his breath seemed to stick in his throat. Without realizing it he took a step backwards, softly bumping into his sister, and flinched in surprise when she knelt down to speak to him.

"Miguel?" Coco asked softly. "If you're nervous you don't have to go up there."

"Wh-what?" Miguel asked, wincing when his voice gave an unexpected squeak and trying to cough it away. "Nervous? I'm not nervous!"

"You're really pale Miguel, and you started sweating bullets in less than five seconds." Victoria pointed out. "It's actually quite impressive."

"Callate!" Miguel grumbled.

"It's alright if you've changed your mind, Miguel." Coco said and rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. "We can just go right back to the museum, and Papá will have never known you were here."

The very mention of his father, how much he hated music, how he would be forced to play music in secret again if he backed away now, how this might actually be his last chance to perform before he was to go to that stupid business school, steeled something inside of Miguel. Straightening up, jaw clenched tight and his guitar held up like a shield, he shook his head vigorously. "No! No way! I'm gonna play in mariachi plaza if it kills me!"

"That's the spirit!" Matty said. "And good thing too because it looks like you're on now!"

"What?!"

"They're beckoning you over! Knock 'em dead and break a leg, gordito!" With a hearty slap on the back Matty propelled his little brother towards the stage. As they all watched the boy meekly walk to the contest coordinators, Matty leaned into Coco. "He can sing, right?"

Coco nodded. "Of course! He has the voice of an angel, you're going to be blown away."

"Either that or he's going to blow his dinner all over the stage floor." Victoria said.

Miguel took his place next to the steps of the gazebo, turning back to wave at the siblings and niece, who all returned it with a thumbs up. With his back turned to them again Matty sighed wistfully. "Papá would really love this. He would be so proud. If… you know…"

"If he was like he used to be?"

"Si…" Matty nodded. "It just doesn't feel the same without him here. Miguel is so much like how our father was: Filled with a love of music, bursting with creativity. Miguel may look up to Tío Nesto, but I see Papá in him more than any of us."

"You're right." Coco sighed. "I wish Papá were here to see this too."

"SOCORRO! MATEO!"

Coco and Matty immediately felt their hearts stop, blood seize up, insides clench and air leave their lungs as they heard their full names bellowed out from behind. Turning around they saw a sight they had never seen before. Héctor Rivera, normally so jovial and mild-mannered with all he encountered, marching towards them red-faced and glaring holes into their very souls. As he got closer and closer to them, Coco whispered, "Itakeitback, Itakeitback!..."

Placing himself in front of his sister and niece like a shield, Matty leaned causally on his cane and smiled shakily. "H-hola, padre! Qué tal? I d-didn't expect to see you come to the plaza today. They're having a music contest right now so you might want to go back and-"

"Would you both care to explain to me," Héctor said as he reached them, very close to seething like a bull. "why I had to hear from Elena that my son is going to play the guitar, on a stage, in front of an audience?!"

With a loud groan Matty turned to glare at Coco. "You told la Lengua Larga about the plan?!"

"I told you it was a bad idea, Mamá."

"So this was your idea!" Héctor growled as he glared at Coco. Distantly they could hear Imelda calling out as she was making her way to the plaza herself, but they all ignored her for the moment. "You're letting your brother perform? After what nearly happened to you? What did happen to your godfather?!"

Coco glared back. "What happened to Tío Nesto was terrible, but it was an accident that could have happened anywhere! It had nothing to do with music! Why can't you see that?"

"It has everything to do with what happened to him!" Héctor shouted. "And I will not have the same thing happen to my-"

"Put your hands together for our first contestant, Miguel 'De la Cruzito' Rivera!"

As a loud smattering of applause and cheers erupted, the family turned to see Miguel taking the small stage of the gazebo. Smiling nervously and waving at the crowd, he didn't seem to notice the brewing turmoil taking place amongst the audience. Héctor gritted his teeth and was about to make his way towards his son to put an end to this nonsense, when one of the nearby bands decided to strike up some intro music for the young guitarist. After all, the son of the world's greatest songwriter, the patron of Santa Cecilia, deserved a grand entrance for his musical debut.

And they couldn't have picked a worse song.

As the trumpets blasted the upbeat version of Remember Me and the audience clapped along to the beat, Matty and Coco moaned in dread and instantly went into damage control. Coco and Victoria shouted in vain over the crowd to get the musicians to stop, but their voices were lost among the deafening cheers and song. Imelda heard the song playing from the distance, and with a curse tried to run even faster to her husband. Matty grabbed his father by the shoulders and shook him, trying to direct his attention to him. "Papá! Papá, listen to me. Listen to my voice. It's okay. It's just a song. Come with me, we'll get you out of here…"

It had been about a year since he had heard that song last. Not intentionally, of course, but when a song is that popular people are bound to either sing it aloud or try to play it themselves. One such incident occurred when he was out with Elena for a treat of ice cream, when suddenly he had heard it. A quite lovely rendition on a violin by that scarf-wearing kid with the weird facial hair whose named escaped him. But it was enough to do the trick. Several painful minutes of him hunched low to the ground, pressing the heels of his hands into his ears hard, trying to get his breathing under control. His own granddaughter, seven years old at the time, was forced to take action herself: Swatting that kid with her shoe in order to stop him from playing, then sitting with him silently and comfortingly until the panic had finally passed. They had both lost their ice creams on the ground that day, but the two had grown even closer due to the experience.

But those same feelings were rushing back just like that last time: Nothing had changed. Immediately his heart started hammering and it became hard to breathe, his insides squirmed and clenched painfully and those awful visions flashed in his mind again. As the song continued he didn't see his eldest son frantically trying to get his attention, but his youngest daughter wheezing her last breaths in his arms. Of Ernesto walking away from him to the stage, underneath the bell that would eventually turn him into nothing but a smear. And the blood, so much blood. He could smell it, practically taste it.

He was about to try to block out the sounds like he always did and then curl up in a ball, when he happened to glance at the stage again. Ernesto was there, about to perform with the bell perch precariously over his head. But no, that wasn't Ernesto standing there. It was-

"MIGUEL! NO!"

Breaking Matty's grip on his arms he made a run for the gazebo, pushing and shoving others out of the way. He didn't hear their exclaims of alarm and pain as they were roughly shoved aside or to the ground, nor the cries of his family as they begged him to wait, to come back. No, all he heard was that damned song playing loudly in his head, now a ticking timer to the point where, at the end, his boy would be no more.

Miguel didn't notice his father parting through the crowd at breakneck speed, too busy tugging on the emcee's sleeve to tell him to make those musicians stop playing the song 'That's the song I'm going to play.' But it was too late, and as the band played the last triumphant note he turned back to the crowd with an eye roll and hefted his guitar up to begin to play the song everyone had just heard.

Just in time to see his father diving straight for him.

Imelda reached her oldest children just in time to see Héctor tackle Miguel and send them both flying to the back of the gazebo. The incident was so shocking that aside from a large gasp from the crowd, it became so still and quiet. Quiet enough that everyone was able to hear the sickening crunch once the two of them landed in a crumpled heap.

A flash of terror made it's way down Imelda and her children's spines. "No…" she breathed, and then quickly made her way to the gazebo herself, the others following her.

The song was over, put panic was still surging through Héctor as he got up and immediately started checking over his boy. "Miguel! Are you all right?! Sit up, let me see!" He patted his body up and down, trying to see if there were any injuries, thankfully finding none. But the boy seemed shocked, and frantically he cupped the boys face to look in his eyes. "Did you hit your head? Look at me, mijo-"

"Papá…"

Miguel's eyes were widened with shock, but surprisingly the wind was not knocked out of him nor was he scuffed or marked in any way from the surprise tackle. The guitar in his hands, however, was not so lucky. It had taken the brunt of the assault and protected the boy from harm, but it had not survived. Three of the strings had snapped right off and were coiled in bent angles, the body was completely caved in from the center hole and up, and the neck had broken cleanly in half, now only connect by the remaining strings. His beloved guitar was now destroyed. His father had destroyed it.

"What-? Why?... What have you done?" Miguel whispered as he gripped the broken neck and tried in vain to get it to stick back into the position. "It's ruined…"

Héctor looked down at the broken guitar in his son's hands, taking in the cheap gold paint that had been sloppily painted all over it. The crude designs done in brown, and the headstock. That same mocking skull that looked so much like his own, except for the one personal detail that he had made for his older brother: The thin mustache above perfectly white grinning teeth. His worries and concerns over his son instantly vanished. He was fine. Now what came back was more comfortable, easier for him to handle: Rage.

"Where the hell did you learn to play guitar?!"

Miguel's attention snapped back to his father, and he shrunk back at the ferocious anger meekly. Before he was able to squeak out a pitiful answer, he felt eyes on him. Turning slightly he paled when he saw everyone in the crowd looking at him with morbid curiosity. The whole town had watched as his supposed debut had crumbled to ash, his most prized possession had been reduced to kindling, and his father was now bearing down on him about to start a very public fight.

It was all ruined. It was too much for him, and the poor boy broke.

With a choked-out cry of heartbreak Miguel flung what was left of his guitar away, shot up to his feet and fled from the gazebo. The crowd gave him enough room to make his getaway and he was grateful. He didn't want to be held back, didn't want to be touched by anyone. Especially his family. He heard his Papá angrily yelling at him to come back, his Mamá pleading with him to do so as well. But he couldn't even look at anyone right now.

He just ran and ran, broken sobs escaping as he gasped and panted.

He hated his birthday.

#coco #coco pixar #pixar coco #coco fanfic #Hector Rivera #miguel rivera #mama imelda #mama coco #worst #birthday #EVER

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dippedanddripped · 4 years

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Charli D’Amelio, the 16-year-old dancing queen of TikTok, is deep in thought. From the scrunched-up look on her face, an endearing expression familiar to her 70 million followers on the video-sharing app, a casual observer might be forgiven for thinking that she is flummoxed by one of life’s imponderables, and not which of her parents is the better dancer.

“That’s a really hard question,” she replies, after some deliberation. “My mom grew up a competition dancer and sometimes does TikTok dances with me, but my dad did breakdancing, and that’s raw, so if I had to ask someone to break it down in the middle of a party, I would have to say my dad.”

“They’re both really good dancers,” Dixie, Charli’s 18-year-old sister and fellow TikTok sensation, offers diplomatically, adding: “There’s a lot of pressure at family reunions, weddings, and birthday parties.”

And then some. As their not inconsiderable number of fans suggests (Dixie is no slouch in the followers department, with her account garnering over 29 million to date), the D’Amelio sisters are as adept as their parents when it comes to cutting a rug — particularly Charli, who has been studying dance since she was just three years old. Dixie, the more outgoing of the two, is better known for talky videos in which she puts her comedic chops to use.

They are also good sports. Despite their age and burgeoning popularity, they are self-effacing, forthcoming, and generous with their answers, which they deliver without bratty or calculated affect. Asked, for example, if she and Dixie are given to spats worthy of Kim and Kourtney Kardashian, Charli doesn’t skip a beat.

“I mean, we’re teenage sisters,” she says matter-of-factly, when we speak over Zoom in June. “So, obviously, we get into disagreements. It’s usually about clothes. We’re the same size, so I tend to wear a lot of her clothes. But Dixie is my number one go-to person — we’re just so close, and our fights usually last two seconds and then we’re over it and, like, ‘Hey, wanna go for a car ride?’”

The sisters are not always easy to tell apart — “We couldn’t be more different,” says Charli, “but we’re used to getting, ‘Oh my God, you guys look like twins!’”— especially on this day, on which they are both wearing high-waisted faded jeans and primrose-colored sweatshirts, their hair pulled back in a similar fashion. “That’s so funny,” says Dixie of their matchy-matchy outfits, “I swear, we haven’t even seen each other this morning.”

It’s a genuineness that goes a long way to explaining their regard on a platform that — despite its early rap for being inauthentic, a venue for creativity cribbed from elsewhere — places a premium on authenticity.

“Charli is accessible in a way I don’t think many other creators are,” says Taylor Lorenz, a technology reporter covering Internet culture for The New York Times. “She’s incredibly humble, and polite, and unproblematic, which is rare in the influencer space. I think Dixie offers a similar appeal. Both of them feel very down home and accessible.”

Stephanie Hind, Head of Talent Management and Operations at TikTok, agrees. “On TikTok, no matter what type of creator you are — an athlete, a designer, an entrepreneur, an artist, or anything in between,” she maintains, “you’re celebrated for being your authentic self. It’s been wonderful to see Charli and Dixie find success by staying true to their passions, putting in hard work and determination into their content, and showcasing joy, creativity, talent, and humor in such an authentic way.”

Adds the girls’ father, Marc: “As parents, in the beginning we were sometimes, ‘Why are you doing videos in your room with your bed unmade and clothes on the floor?’ But Charli understood instinctively that not only did she want to portray her true self but that the people consuming her content wanted to see that from her.”

Theirs is an authenticity that extends to their boundless positivity and the causes (climate change, Black Lives Matter, anti-bullying) that they promote on their accounts, without coming across as cloyingly earnest.

“I’ve been saying these things my whole life,” says Charli, who was tapped in March by Procter & Gamble to create #DistanceDance, a campaign to encourage people to stay-at-home during the pandemic that generated more than 8 billion views and 1.7 million imitation dances from celebrities, influencers, children, families, and others. “The fact that I now get to share that positivity is so important to me. It’s truly what I believe, and now people actually listen.”

“She is the number one person on the app, and has a lot of very young eyes on her,” says Dixie, fidgeting with a piece of toy slime. “I think she’s so happy to have the platform to talk about things that mean a lot to her. That’s important for me, too, but I don’t have the pressure that she has.”

Clearly it’s a genuineness that is resonating beyond the digital landscape. Charli is not only the most followed person on TikTok, but has also parlayed her popularity into collaborations with celebrities such as Jennifer Lopez and Bebe Rexha, as well as brands like Hollister and Sabra hummus, for which she appeared in a 2020 Super Bowl commercial (becoming the first TikTok creator to be featured in an ad during the coveted tentpole sports event). She has taken tentative steps into Hollywood, having provided the voice for Tinker in the upcoming animated film StarDog and TurboCat, and has appeared on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon.

She even sat front row at Prada’s Fall/Winter 2020 show in February, a gauge of pop-culture currency if ever there was one. “Going to the Prada show was definitely something, like, I never thought I would ever be…,” Charli recalls, uncharacteristically reaching for her words. “It was my first fashion show ever, and it was like a dream.” The content partnership she did with the Italian fashion brand during the show led to Charli’s social and press mentions growing by more than 160 percent in the days following the event.

Not to be outdone, Dixie, who studied drama from an early age, made her professional acting debut this year as Georgia in the Brat TV series Attaway General, and has collaborated on shoots and videos with brands such as Polo Ralph Lauren and Dermalogica. In early July, she released her first single, “Be Happy,” which debuted at 41 on the Emerging Artists list on the Billboard Charts and has generated more than 40 million views on YouTube. There is also talk of the D’Amelio clan appearing in their own reality TV show, the family having reportedly signed a deal with American Idol production company Industrial Media.

But for all their undeniable talent, personality, and relatable style (fans study the sisters’ choice of clothing, hairstyles, and nails with the rigor of biblical exegesis), their popularity is also the result of a perfect storm of circumstances. For one, they have an undeniably strong support system. Parents Marc and Heidi seem determined to ensure their daughters are happy and safe doing what they love most, while trusting them to make the right decisions and create content that they can be proud of.

“Unless it’s something that requires us to play the parent card,” says Marc, “we let them make a lot of the decisions about the opportunities that are presented to them. The girls are great. If there is something questionable, like foul language or whatever, they will ask, ‘Hey, what do you think about this?’”

Outside the family there is also a solid team in place. The sisters are both managed by Barbara Jones of OutShine Talent and Billy Mann of The Well, and represented by the Hollywood powerhouse United Talent Agency (UTA) — a division of labor which can be confounding to outsiders.

“If you watch the show Entourage,” explains Greg Goodfried, the Co-Head of Digital Talent at UTA, “the managers are Eric, who help Vinny Chase with every aspect of his life, and we [he and his colleague Ali Berman] are Ari. We’re the ones who source and negotiate the deal, and then hand it off to the managers and the client to execute.”

Charli’s rapid ascent — she only started posting last May — is inescapably tied to the rise of TikTok itself, which has gone from a popular global app with negligible traction in the United States to a social-media behemoth, with over 2 billion downloads that has shaken up the entertainment industrial complex and global Internet order. As Goodfried affirms: “It was the right time and the right place for the right person to just emerge on a platform and become a superstar.”

TikTok was an idea whose time had come, and it didn’t hurt that the Chinese conglomerate that owns it poured over a billion dollars into marketing in the first year alone. But there are other important factors at play, including the superior video editing tools the app offers by default.

According to Lorenz, its success lies in no small part to being the anti-Instagram. “It broke the follow graph,” she explains, “and makes all American social networks, where users have to seek out and curate their own feed of content by ‘following’ people, seem archaic. Follower numbers on TikTok are much more of a vanity metric. The ‘For You’ page allows each piece of individual content to live on its own and find its own audience. This is a much better and more engaging way to deliver content than by following an ever expanding group of people/accounts.”

It’s also an easier point of entry for video than Instagram and YouTube, on which aesthetics and production values are key. “With TikTok, it’s literally just your phone,” explains Ali Berman. “Combine that with the emergence of a generation of parents who are more open minded to [social media], and for the first time, people were like, ‘Oh, this is something I can do.’”

“Talking to a lot of my friends,” says Charli, “TikTok is bringing them and their parents a lot closer together, which is really cool. I see a lot of parents and the kids doing dances together. I think it’s awesome that it’s so inclusive of people of all ages.”

Little wonder that brands, with varying degrees of success, are lining up like superfans at a K-pop VIP High-Touch concert. “We’re seeing a ton of enthusiasm from brands,” says Berman, “especially around working with native TikTok creators. They’re really excited, because from a content perspective, it’s a whole new muscle for them to flex.” While opportunities for paid media exist, savvy companies — like Parisian fashion label Jacquemus — are artfully bringing the personalities of their brand to life through the creative usage of in-app effects and filters, and, in the case of Givenchy, which partnered with Young Emperors as a part of its #GivenchyActingChallenge, original sound to encourage user creations.

However, what TikTok delivered to creators, brands, and families at warp speed, the global coronavirus pandemic took away. Just as Charli and Dixie were poised to take advantage of the many opportunities that have promptly come their way, like much of the world, the family retreated indoors to quarantine — hunkering down in a rental property in California.

“I used to want a break from it all for a couple of weeks or so,” says Dixie, who has been accepted to the University of Alabama where she plans to do a business degree. “But after this quarantine period, I never want another break again. I was having the time of my life and I want to get back to work and travel and meet people immediately.”

Though the break temporarily put paid to a slew of meet-and-greet appearances with fans, and led to the rescheduling of several projects – including the Hollister campaign that involved print and videos (not to mention the cancellation of Dixie’s prom) — it has also led to them accruing more followers than ever, with their individual accounts and the combined family one surging over the last few months. They might have been cooped up inside, but so was everyone else — an eager, captive audience for entertaining video content.

It’s also afforded the family a moment to hit the pause button and assess matters. “It brought us a lot closer,” says Marc, “and we were able to have a lot of conversations to prepare for what’s next. Hindsight being 20/20, these are conversations we probably should have had earlier, but everything happened so quickly.”

“When I stop to think about it, I’m like, ‘Whoa, this is so crazy,’” says Charli. “I don’t even know how this happened. But if there’s one thing that I really don’t do, [it’s] overthink things.” Which is just as well, as in the weeks since we spoke, the news broke that TikTok may be banned in the United States due to national security concerns, and Charli and her ex, fellow TikToker Chase Hudson (better known as Lil Huddy) were involved in a messy war of words as part of the TikTok influencer debacle known as the “TikTokalypse.”

Not that anyone should worry too much about the D’Amelio girls. In addition to digital content opportunities, live touring, podcasts, books, TV, licensing deals, and endorsements are all on the table. They’re not going away anytime soon. And on the advice of their family friend, wine critic turned author and marketing guru Gary Vaynerchuk, Marc and Heidi have taught the girls not to “take the positives or the negatives to heart.”

Or, as Charli puts it: “My parents have always been, ‘We don’t care how many followers you have. You still have to do the dishes and take out the garbage. They don’t put me on a pedestal. And I’ve always been big on making sure that what I put out on the Internet about myself is stuff I would want everyone to see. I’m a teenager and [am] obviously not going to make the right choices 100 percent of the time, but I do my best to be the best person I can be, on and off screen.” Spoken like an authentic voice of a generation.

#tiktok #Charli & Dixie D'Amelio #TikTokalypse

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queenofmosttrades · 4 years

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Ethans First Surf

Hi there! Ethan is 1! Woohoo what a milestone! I don't know about you, but I like to take birthdays pretty seriously. Dave always makes fun of me but I truly love celebrating a persons date of birth. I mean think about it, its the day your journey began on this earth. I like to imagine what it felt like on that day to the people that welcomed the person being born. What was the weather like, the environment, where did it take place, how long, what was happening in the world on that day, how did word spread about the news, and on and on. Thinking about all these things really makes me appreciate the person, and the day and how all other days accumulated to bring us here, today, again, celebrating and appreciating birth and life...isn’t that a pretty big deal? I think so.

Well for Ethan I can recall relatively easily because it wasn't all that long ago and I was very much involved haha. He was early, 2 weeks to be exact, we were in NYC, it was cold and the temperature was dropping by the minute (I remember the day after he was born was a polar vortex which was the coldest day of the year). We were so excited, and I felt so huge and wobbly that I couldn’t wait to meet this guy!! I was also in a bit of shock, I felt bittersweet because I was so used to and obsessed with, his older brother, Zack. I could not imagine a world with yet another baby. I was scared and nervous about how this would disrupt the perfect equilibrium we had at the time. Either way, we were about to find out. I’m sure most parents will agree that every time an additional baby is born, it’s an entirely new experience! Yes, the basic steps are the same for the most part, but the emotions, the level of difficulty, the adjustment period, it all varies, each time. I’m not going to lie, I definitely had this imposter type feeling for a bit. Sort of like who is this baby and where is his mother? My brain was so used to knowing and understanding that I had only one child that it took me a little bit of time to actually fully understand that I now have two! Strange, but true. Once reality did hit, so did a boat load of confusing and overwhelming emotions...oh the joys of post-partume, nod if you feel me! Honestly, that topic needs a whole separate post, which I’ll be getting to soon.

This past year has been a bit of a blur. It all happen so fast, I feel like I need to hit the replay button and appreciate it more. But no, sorry that’s not part of the package dear. It happen, it’s gone and I just hope I took enough photos and videos to last a lifetime because time stops for no one. I hear it way too often and from all types of people. “Savor the moments, be present, appreciate this time, they won’t need you forever”, you know what I'm talking about, you've heard it too. I know I know I know!!! But yet, I still catch myself checking my phone, checking the time, wanting to put them to bed because how dare I feel tired and want some alone time! It’s true, I feel this at times, and its possible you do too! I still also catch myself sometimes getting caught up in whatever random activity we’re doing and thinking it’s time for bath but ehh what’s another 15 min, I make the rules I can break them! The point is, both feelings are felt and they are both valid, as well as everything in between.

I didn’t start out this post with the intention of going here but it just sort of happen, so there it is. Mama of two (a 1 year old and a 2 year old, sounds super insane when I say it out load) saying that even though we want to so badly be that perfect human that is focused on the kids when being with the kids, and truly loving every second we have with our little humans because we do know that it’s so fleeting; It is also so majorly ok to just want to put them to bed and just breathe, or drink or take a bath, or all three together :) This child raising thing is hard, and yet we have choosen it, some multiple times! We do it for various reasons but my reason is because I believe that helping mold and shape humans that will benefit this world and bring a little extra good into it makes me feel good about myself (so selfish of me, I know). Cheers! To this journey called parenthood!

Here’s a shout out to some of the awesome vendors we used to help us create Ethan’s first surf birthday bash!

Decor- @flowerland_decor

I’ve hired Sasha in the past and each time she amazes!

Photo- @glossymoment www.glossymoment.com

Also a return customer, he's reliable and speedy with the photo delivery.

Food- Hickory BBQ

Easy to work with and the most important thing...the food tastes good!

Music- TriTide -find them on Facebook

Kept everybody grooving the entire time. I lost count of how many people told me they loved the music.

Entertainment- @clownsdotcom

Second time using them and I LOVE them! They are on time, they are friendly, professional, and obviously the most important thing...they keep the kids entertained the entire time!!!

Desserts- @joyofcakes

Literally a work of art! I felt bad eating these desserts.

Invites-@paperlesspost

Super reliable and organized. I always use Paperless Post whenever we throw any parties!

Attire- Ethan:

https://www.rococlothing.co.uk/brands/paisley-of-london/paisley-of-london-boys-blue-waistcoat-suit-charlie/

Zack:

https://factory.jcrew.com/p/boys-clothing/suiting/boys-thompson-suit-jacket-in-flex-chino/H5630?color_name=sandy-dune&noPopUp=true&srccode=Paid_Search%7CShopping%7CGoogle%7CPL_BPROD_SUITINGx_ACQ_XXX_EVG_COUSA_EN_EN_P_FACT_AW_CPC_PLA,Boys_SuitJackets_x_XXX,PRODUCT_GROUP,71700000033423186,58700003939892375,p31982098167&utm_source=Google&utm_medium=Paid_Search&utm_campaign=PL_BPROD_SUITINGx_ACQ_XXX_EVG_COUSA_EN_EN_P_FACT_AW_CPC_PLA,Boys_SuitJackets_x_XXX&utm_content=Shopping&NoPopUp=True&gclsrc=aw.ds&&gclid=Cj0KCQiAmsrxBRDaARIsANyiD1ogMCqQ0Q4r-JrsVdA5yIa2j1QdtQbatnVfgkaK1Z69sfIqcEHxVJAaAjd2EALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds

Me:

https://cynthiarowley.com/collections/dresses/products/talia-flutter-sleeve-maxi-dress?variant=17972136280129

Dave:

https://www.lyst.com/clothing/slate-stone-mens-short-sleeve-leaf-print-sports-shirt/

https://www.menswearhouse.com/p/joe-joseph-abboud-sky-blue-slim-fit-sport-coat-13N613N770?rrec=true

Makeup- @natalieskymu

I am soooo not a makeup person, and Natalie was able to listen to what I wanted and deliver!

Hope this brings some use to someone out there ;)

Suzanna

#thesepreciousmoments #birthdaypartyplanning #momlife #momoftwo #firstbirthday #fitmama #queenofmosttrades #brooklynliving #parkslopeparents #honestlymotherhood #im not crying youre crying #staylittleforever

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papermoth-bird-blog · 5 years

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Austin: Tan lines in Texas (and an introduction to an Ashram in Arizona)

(okay, so I’ll note I’m actually writing this from Arizona, but the last few days have been a blur & it was hard to find time to write. Love to whoever is reading this.)

Austin was a great idea. Again, would have been made easier if I had a car, but it’s a good thing I made friends here. Or I should say- It’s a good thing my friends hooked me up with their friends that still live in Austin (particularly Kyle!)

Still been eating really good food. And by that, I mean in large part American comfort food. I have fully become addicted to tacos and have at least one a day.. (okay yeah, I’ve always had a burrito problem). I’ve pretty much conquered/eaten all the southern/tex-mex/austin staples. On top of that I had that I had the best bowl of Ramen I’ve ever had. I’ve also had a lot of juice/smoothies.. cause they love that here, for whatever reason. The sun came out & lifted my spirits tremendously. I spent so much time ‘playing’ outside. Barton creek is a really beautiful water body- Mediterranean blue! Right in the middle of the city. I’m glad that I started a morning pilgrimage to Zilker’s park to have tree-time. Some of my best memories from Austin were made there.

Kyle’s friend Marlon (who performs under the name Tasi) invited me out to a kinda institution/dive venue (a la Gus’ Pub but much bigger) to watch some people perform who were in the local indie scene.Turns out, one of the performer’s was Charlie from Hovvdy- a band I’d seen play earlier in the week. That was a really great night out. I feel like I was finally around people that reminded me of my friends back home- musicians, leftys, artists. It was really nice chatting to them all & making friends. It was grounding at a time that I felt a little more adrift. Marlon was super kind & totally hooked me up with a bunch of art shows & music shows for the rest of the week- not to mention introduced me to a lot of cool people. I told him I’d repay the favour if he ever came up to Canada- and I hope he takes me up on it (I feel like he’s the type to). I also made friend’s with the bartender that night because apparently I am the doppleganger of her childhood best friend Katie. She even showed me pictures... it was a little weird, we did look oddly similar. If anything, it just made me feel that string-like guide of strange circumstances that has lead me along this wandering journey. So I kinda nodded my head instead of getting actually weirded out. Stranger and stranger everyday- and so, less strange overall. ‘Tis the life of a witch, I suppose.

The following evening was the BIG night I’d been awaiting since I started this trip- I went to see Jonathan Richman. It was a short set, which, not gonna lie, induced some skepticism. HOLY MOLY it was a great show. It filled me with so much joy and I danced through the whole set all by myself. He was so silly & playful- which made for a really engaging & flowing performance. Despite the overtone of hipstery-indifference, he pulled a lot of audience participation out of the crowd. We worshipped the sun together & sang praises for the summer feeling that arrived in Austin earlier that day. He also played a couple of his older hits (which I didn’t except, cause I was told he didn’t really play those anymore). The whole time there was this one guy full-fan-girling next to me. I kinda think he was freaking Jojo out. I’d probably have been weirded out to. By virtue of us being right beside each other in the front row, it meant that that Jojo was looking at me in the eyes (and boobs) all night. Which felt kinda weird, but kinda special. (haha). He also pranced around the stage with maracas which put me in a good mood. Strangely enough, he wasn’t the only one to whip out the maracas. Later on that night, I went to see another country band. The lead singer was decked out in Rhinestone Cowboy apparel. Sure enough, he whipped out the maracas eventually too. I guess something is in the air- mostly Maracas.

My final day in Austin reached a high of 31 degrees. I walked around in shorts and a bathing suit all day- whispering to myself reminders that it was february. It put a lightness in my heart. I skipped around town, eating my favourite foods & got ice cream. I met up with a friend too & went swimming. We basked in the sun & talked about the future & travel. He just came back from hiking the Appalachian trail (which took 6 months). I quizzed him endlessly about it. It certainly sounds intimidating, but incredibly rewarding. It’s definitely something that’s doggy-eared on my travel wishlist. I mean- walking from Georgia to Maine! Can you imagine!! All throughout some of the most beautiful sections of mountains the world has to offer. Reading ‘Wild’ has certainly been encouraging me along this thought plain too.

Later that night I went to a friend’s birthday party at a really boogie secret bar. I felt out of place, cause I was wearing cut off jean shorts & a ripped t-shirt & a bandana- definitely not exactly the vibe. It was a good time anyway & all the waiters had cute Irish Accents. Later in the night Brandon & I took off to go to another party across town, after picking up some more of his friends. I was flying to Pheonix the next day & mentally preparing myself for Ashram life. It felt a little odd to be around so many people doing coke- but if anything, it just confirmed that I feel really good about staying sober & living my life on the path I am travelling on. All the people there knew each other from high school (mostly Anderson high... which if I’m not mistaken is the high school in Dazed & Confused). It definitely brought me back to high school in a way- not that the conversations were particularly high school like (well maybe), but more so reminded me how I felt in high school. That just because I could get along with everybody & find things to talk about, doesn’t mean they are “my people”. I was just filled with pangs of gratitude for the people I have back home that make me feel so fulfilled & supported & loved wholly. It makes it easy to be away & explore knowing that.

In some ways, I’ve seen flashes of every version of myself I’ve ever been. I’ve had moments that reminded me of my childhood. I’ve had moments reminding me of my adolescence. And along the way- I’ve found ways to make peace with the trouble some of those memories bring to me. Soothing me, teaching me, giving me room to grow. It’s like I’ve been repotted- I’m going through the lessons I was faced with before, but this time, I have many more tools & experiences to support me through them. It’s helped me spark a bit of excitement to spend time in Ontario again.

The next morning, Brandon drove me to the airport. I’m so grateful to him for doing that too- because we slept in & I wouldn’t have had enough time if I had to take an uber. I tumbled high-speed through the airport & next thing I knew I was in Phoenix. (okay, there was a weird bit about the lady at TSA getting mad at me & patting me down because she didn’t like how many notes I had shoved in my overall’s pockets. I didn’t get it really. I looked more like a toddler that a smuggler, but whatever). My jaw practically hit the floor when I saw the landscape I dropped into. Such a big sky! and so blue! And mountain in the distance- that looked more like hardend sand dunes. The cactus’s are huge & fill the landscape, instead of an abundance of trees. It made me regret taking the plane, instead of the bus. Despite what everyone was saying, I really think I would have loved it. Now I just know I will have to trust my own feelings ever-forward when it comes to those things.

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

Sedona, too, is more beautiful than I could have expected. I mean, I’ve seen pictures of course, but seeing the monuments & their contrast with space & sky is something else. I took this huge breath here that I feel like I’d been holding for months & months. I can tell I have work to do here. Routine to entangle in, feelings to purge. I will be here for two or three weeks- doing yoga & meditation & chanting everyday. I can already feel the shift in me. (and in some ways, a shift back to a way I was in the past too). Being part of a land co-op certainly does allow for a lot of outdoor work & collaborative living. I do love all that, and it definitely exists as a main part of the ashram. There is a different feeling here, though. Definitely less silly. It’s full of intention. I don’t know how to explain it right now- except it’s like your spirit makes eye contact with everyone else’s spirit. You can’t hide from your weaknesses. It requires honesty & commitment to make life work here. I’ve always been ready for that- but you don’t find too many places (especially in modern cities) that allows you to live that way. My body, too, is being challenged. Everyone here is a relatively devout yogi (karmic & asana). I myself have to catch up in ways. I already have the chants stuck in my head as I work in the garden.

One think I’ve found challenging so far is what I am doing for my Karma Yoga practice. Rukmini can be a little nit-picky (although I know she’s working on that). She is also taking over for Swamiji while he is away, which I realize has it’s own stresses. She hopes that I will help her in the kitchen and help her with “momma chores”. The thought of that is challenging for me, however, because I’ve never been particularly inclined towards those things. Gopala is leaving the ashram soon. He has done a lot of the cooking & I think she really wants me to help with that..... my ultimate challenge. I mean, I told her I love farm work and building projects. Dharmagan & Charles are building a little temple by the bar. Really, I am craving to work on that. I think, Rukmini would prefer me to work with her, though. We did have a special moment earlier in which we were both totally geeking out about plants and gardening. That felt really nice. I’ve been thinking a lot about “my path” of course. I still feel intentional about doing some sort of healing practice. In clearing away all my obligations, I have thought every morning “in a perfect world, what would you do with this day). In almost all my answers, it has something to do with being outside with plant friends & sharing the gifts of plant medicines with my dearest people friends. I do really want to be a farmer- but in nova scotia that is certainly hard to make your full income. I love the idea of doing massage to fill out the rest of my time (as I’ve discussed for years), but it doesn’t spark the same immediate joy that plants do. I think it would still be something I’d be good at though & would open so many doors for me. (anyways, I digress... and most of my good friends have heard me repeat this conversation over and over again).

I can’t help but feel doubted (which is an ultimate pet peeve of mine) in areas that are a little more physical or perhaps typically male roles. She did allow me to help her garden today. We planted Onions & lilies & garlic as flakes of snow fell from the sky. It’s about 5 degrees- which for me, feels reasonable to be working outside. Everyone else keeps mentioning “THE COLD!” I just smile to myself, because it’s familiar to me & I love being outside. It did mean that Gopala brought me a big mug of Cocao while I planted. Which was kind and really thoughtful.

Saraswati is the patron goddess of this ashram. Her colour is yellow (my favourite) and she is the goddess of wisdom & knowledge. She is actually one of my favourite Hindu Gods- so it was a happy surprise when I found that out. The library, where her shrine is, is beautiful & filled with yellow & gold. It’s a very happy place to be. All the book titles have filled me with a thirst to read as much as I can. Rukmini gave me a book about Peace Pilgrim. On my first day I sat down by the river with my feel sunk into the mud (next to the many raccoon paw prints) and read in the tree for a few hours. Peace Pilgrim is a favourite of the Swami here. He, like Peace Pilgrim, also journeyed around America, relying on faith & the kindness of strangers to help him on his way. I am looking forward to meeting him. Mare has told me wonderful things about him (mostly that he reminds her a lot of Dumbledore-- which is probably the highest praise any teacher could get). He arrives tomorrow- so I’m sure there will once again be another shift in energy. We’ve gotten a little lackadaisical with the timing of the schedule. I’ve heard Swami keep the household a little strict- but I suppose you have to when there is a bunch of people in & out (in addition to it being a serious spiritual centre).

This is a small Ashram- with only about 7 of us here now. It is less than a year old, however, so it is still being established in many ways. The other ashrams have 50, maybe even 100 people living there. I feel good about this ashram though. Especially when it comes to learning, I feel like it will be more effective in a small group. Although I suppose larger ones would be nice because there would be lots of people to work with & talk to. It feels right to be in this one though.

There was a girl who left the day before I arrived & her name was also Zoe. Apparently there was some confusion because we had the same name. I personally am just taking it as another sign that I’m supposed to be here. Something that I didn’t really expect is that I am feeling a lot of gratitude for my name- Which means life. There has been a lot of chants exploring that theme- being alive. I guess that could be expected, but it’s been standing out to me. My thoughts keep circling back to that mysterious phrase that lead me to this journey on the first place “go to New Orleans to learn about death”. I think I let a lot of things die when I chose to leave Halifax. There was death in that, surely. In a re:birthing context. I think what I learned most is that life exists concurrently with death.

I struggle quite a bit still with thoughts of Ellie’s death. I found myself crying unexpectedly in Satsung yesterday, and then again when talking to Rukminiji. I find it hard to laugh and smile without it making me feel guilty in some way. As if keeping sadness close to my heart is penitence, or proof in someway that I loved her. New Orleans, certainly conjured the ideal of how deeply & brightly both the concepts of death & life can coexist. And so, still with thoughts & appreciation for death, I’ve been able to live a little more freely. Which is not something I thought I’d ever fully be able to move towards in sincerity. But I feel it. My prana is having the dust shaken off along this dessert journey. I am grateful for every moment of it- all the challenges & moments of peace that is being gifted to me.

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doodlewash · 7 years

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The Backstory

Throughout my life, there have always been two interests that stand out among the rest: animals and art. I’m pretty sure I’ve loved animals every single day of my life, and I’ve been drawing for as long as I could hold a pencil. As I grew, my preference in media changed from sketching to photography to sculpting to painting.

During summer before my senior year, I found myself short of the minimum community service hours required for graduation, and as fate would have it, my mother found an ad in the newspaper for teen volunteers for our local zoo’s summer program. And it was that volunteer experience that would end up shaping the rest of my life.

During that summer and the year to follow, I would end up logging nearly 500 hours at the zoo before leaving for college. During college, I studied both zoology and psychology and got my first paid position at another zoo as a camp counselor. Unfortunately, my college days would come to an end earlier than I anticipated when my health started to decline.

Upon returning to my hometown with two associates degrees in hand and no idea what I was going to do with my life, I began working as an assistant at a photography studio while also returning to my local zoo as an intern with the hopes of joining the staff someday. A couple years later, my dream came true. I got a job as a full time zoo educator at the zoo I had been visiting since my second birthday.

I adored every second of being a zoo educator, even the ones where I was at my wits ends with the kids or covered in animal feces. I eventually rose to the position of managing the department, but unfortunately, I learned the hard way that my INFP personality was not well-equipped with traits that would allow me to enjoy managing people instead of actually educating. With my health once again deteriorating rapidly, I made the impossible decision to leave my zoo after well over a decade of commitment to them.

Discovering Watercolors

As luck would have it, I found watercolors through the zoo as well. In those last few months I was working there, I was planning a craft for a new program when I came across these little watercolor animal silhouettes and very suddenly, it was like a flip switched in me. I was immediately drawn to the way that watercolors flow and the range of color, texture, and emotion they are able to evoke. I had to learn more about this medium.

So, one thing you might want to know about me is that I have a bit of an obsessive personality. When I latch on to something that I am passionate about, there’s really no turing back. I’m not great with anything technical and my chronic pain makes it difficult for me to remember important dates or what I ate for breakfast yesterday… but it’s been fourteen years since I first learned to handle an opossum and nearly three years since the last time I taught with one, but I could still talk your ear off about all their fascinating adaptions. The same thing happened to me when I found watercolors.

I had painted with oils and acrylics before, but I’m rather embarrassed to admit that I didn’t know professional watercolors were even a thing. For whatever reason, they weren’t a part of either of the only two art classes I was able to take in school and I hadn’t even seen a set of Crayolas for years.

But after that first spark of curiosity, I spent months researching the ins and outs of watercolor, what colors to chose for a palette, how different pigments reacted with each other… I read blogs and watched videos for hours on end, all to learn as much as I could and teach myself.

And to be entirely honest, after two and half years, I haven’t stopped.

Inspiration from Africa

It shouldn’t come to anyone’s surprise that I find my inspiration in wildlife. I have the utmost respect for our planet, and I feel it is our responsibility as a whole to take action and stand up against all the wrong humans have done and are currently doing to the millions of other species we share it with. As cliché as it might sound, I am inspired by a greater desire to help speak up for those who do not have voices, and I hope that my artwork serves as an extension of that passion in some small way.

My ultimate lifelong dream was to visit Africa and after years of saving, I finally took myself on that trip to Botswana and South Africa in 2013. Due to my work schedule, I had to travel during the off season which led to an incredibly interesting adventure in more ways than one. I was traveling by myself to another continent, and the company I booked with changed guides on me at the last minute to someone I had never spoken to and with whom I’d be alone with for the next week and a half. There was plenty of panic, anxiety, mishaps, and rain that trip, but I was standing in Africa and despite all the bad, nothing could compare to the comfort I felt from Africa herself. There aren’t words to express the absolute bliss I felt standing on African soil.

The experiences I shared there are enough to inspire me for a lifetime. I got to watch a small pride of young lions trying to stay cool under a tree in the hot Kalahari sun. One of which was playing gently with a butterfly like a house cat might. We came quite close, a little too close for comfort, to a herd of bull elephants along the road outside the Makgadikgadi Pans and watched them under a moody grey sky. I was privileged to have an incredibly rare opportunity to watch a couple of adolescent hyenas babysit two cubs while we heard the rest of the pack in the distance, presumably in a hunting party. And among many other experiences, I got to fall asleep to the roar of a rare subtropical storm filled with the beautiful chorus of frogs, insects, and birds as it poured down in Maun. It’s been over four years, but the memories are so vivid still that it brings tears to my eyes thinking about what a breathtaking experience the trip was.

Artistic Process

There’s no secret here. Regardless of medium, be it photography, painting, or sculpting, my love for animals inspires nearly every piece I create. Having been a photographer who loves to paint the same subjects that I photograph, I’m well-stocked (pun intended?) as far as references go. Whenever I’m stumped for a subject, I need only to open up my storage files and take a look for something that calls to me on that given day.

In connection with my desire to help spread conservational messages, I love featuring flagship species (beloved animals that help people to focus on a broader conservation effort) and some of the lesser known beauties in my artwork to help spread awareness. I have a very strong preference for painting animal portraits, and one of the comments I get most consistently in regards to my artwork, whether photography or painting, is that people feel very connected through the eyes of the animals I paint. This is perhaps the greatest compliment anyone could give me, and am still humbled each time I hear it.

Tools of the Trade

My first and greatest love in watercolor paints is Daniel Smith. When I first began researching color selections, I came across the wonderful Jane Blundell’s website and, paired with many other resources, began building my palette of Daniel Smith colors, which I used almost exclusively inside an 18-well Mijello Fusion palette for my first year of painting.

I will never be able to say for sure if those paints and that palette are only my favorites because they were my first real watercolor supplies or if they would have ended up there regardless, but I do adore them. My other favorite brands include M. Graham for their vivid pigmentation and eco-friendly business practices and Schmincke for their silky smooth texture and soft coloration.

As far as brushes go, I have several in my arsenal I happily use including a Princeton Elite Size 12, a Silver Black Velvet Size 10, an Escoda Versatil Size 8, the Princeton Neptune Size 4 Quill, and the very convenient Pentel Aquash Water Brushes. Arches 140lb Cold Pressed is my go-to watercolor paper, though also have been using some Strathmore 500 Series lately. I also recently took on the challenge of compiling and testing over 25 types of watercolor paper from different brands and there are some I’m quite eager to add to my collection as well.

Recently I’ve started enjoying other water-based mediums such as gouache and inks, but I owe them a lot more time before reporting any findings.

The Working Artist

A little over a year ago, I decided I wanted to put all of this silly, obsessively-compiled information to good use and started an educational YouTube channel. I primarily focus on product reviews, tutorials, and other geeky mini series like my Color Spotlight series where we focused on a different pigment each week for eight weeks. Last month I also had a ton of fun producing daily time lapse videos for World Watercolor Month!

My chronic pain unfortunately pushed my out of a career I never expected to have to leave. Coming to terms with that has been very difficult, but I have found a renewed joy in sharing both my passion for watercolors and my love for animals with my community. I am diligently working to spread my passion for both watercolors and animals while also making my artistry and educational materials responsible for my livelihood. Thanks to my amazing Patrons and those who support me through my online shops, I get a little closer to that goal every day.

I am very active within my YouTube and Patreon communities and love forging connections with other aspiring artists. I’d be thrilled to see you all around if you’d like to join us!

Thank you so much to Charlie for sharing my story and my artwork with all of you lovelies on Doodlewash. Happy Painting!

Denise Soden Website Etsy YouTube Patreon Instagram Facebook Doodlewash Gallery

#WorldWatercolorGroup GUEST ARTIST: "In Liquid Color" by Denise Soden - #doodlewash #animals The Backstory Throughout my life, there have always been two interests that stand out among the rest: animals and art.

#animals #aquarelle #artist #doodlewash #featured #inspiration #painting #video #watercolor #watercolour #zoo

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