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likeadevils · 8 months

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Reputation Timeline

This is a very long post that puts all the songs on Reputation in order of Taylor creating them. I’ve also included a few other songs she worked on while writing rep and quotes from Taylor and her collaborators talking about her process.

If you don't want to read all that, check out this playlist of the album in order or this playlist of her entire discography.

I’ve also added this color coded scale of how sure I am of the date:

Confirmed: There is some type of official source for the date

Inferring: Nobody has officially said “This is when we wrote it,” but all available evidence points to that date

Speculation: This date is based off pure vibes and guesswork and is highly likely to change.

Unknown: All that is known is the year (from the US Copyright Offices

February 13, 2015: Taylor's interview with Vogue is published (likely conducted on January 14/15).

"I don’t worry that I haven’t started the next record yet. I don’t worry that I don’t know what it’s going to be. I’m not worried that I have absolutely no timetable as to when it needs to be done. It could be two years from now; it could be three, it could be four. Or it could be one. You get these bursts of inspiration right at the moment you’re not expecting to. You just have to live your life, and hopefully you’ll take the right risks."

March 2, 2015: Taylor is photographed leaving a studio. (Note: I can not find a place that specifies if this is a recording studio, dance, photography, radio, or television studio).

May 20, 2015: Taylor's interview with Marie Claire is published (likely conducted two months beforehand).

Taylor is not even sure she'll have made another album by the time 2020 rolls around. "I'm not going to put out an album until I've made one that's better than this one and that's going to be really hard," she says. And how might her music evolve if she does find love? "If that does happen, I think I could find complexity in happiness," she says. "I don't think anything's ever simple. Just because you're happy in a relationship doesn't mean there aren't moments of confusion or frustration or loneliness or sadness. Hopefully, if I ever find some sort of meaningful relationship, I'll be able to still find inspiration, just through everyday ups and downs."

October 7, 2015: Taylor is photographed leaving a recording studio in New York.

November 13, 2015: Taylor's interview with Vogue Australia is published (likely conducted two months beforehand).

Every two years since 2006 she has released an album, followed by a tour, then moved onto the next one. But her latest album, 1989, might change plans a bit. “This album has produced more number ones than any album in the past, so we’re just going to go with it,” she says, going on to explain how the usual album cycle could be extended. “Then I’ll feel like I’ll need to give people a breather from me because at a certain point they’re going to get a little sick of hearing about me, so I’ll need to go away for a while then, depending on my gauge on how sick of me they are, I’ll decide when to put out the next album.” [...] “I’ve been learning every single day what the right amount of sharing [of her personal life] is, and lately it’s been not natural because this album is such a snapshot of my life – it was so vivid, direct and honest.”

April 20, 2016: Taylor interview with Vogue is published (conducted in February).

So what the hell are you going to do with the rest of your life, Taylor Swift? “I have no idea,” she says, with a sigh that’s more blissful than anxious. “This is the first time in ten years that I haven’t known. I just decided that after the past year, with all of the unbelievable things that happened . . . I decided I was going to live my life a little bit without the pressure on myself to create something.” Do not freak: Swift is not abandoning making music. Those who know her know this is chemically impossible. (“Her not being creative is one of the last things I’d ever worry about,” the musician and producer Jack Antonoff tells me later.) “I’m always going to be writing songs,” Swift says. “The thing is, with me, I could very well come up with three things in the next two weeks and then jump back into the studio, and all of a sudden the next record is started. That’s an option, too.” But probably not for the moment.

August 29, 2016: Taylor writes in her diary "This summer is the apocalypse."

Gorgeous: Sep. 1-5, 16, 17, 19 (Confirmed)

In the Making of a Song video, Taylor is seen wearing this outfit in her Nashville apartment, which dates the song to September 17. From there, the rest of the dates are just math.

King of My Heart: Sep. 6, 19, 20, 21 (Confirmed)

In the Making of a Song video, Taylor is seen wearing the same outfit in the Gorgeous video and the KOMH video. It's also the same outfit as a video she later posted to The Swift Life (RIP) where she talked about how excited she was to be working after a long break.

September 9, 2016: Gigi Hadid says "You know, [Taylor] is starting to go back to work in the studio again."

I Don't Wanna Live Forever: Early Oct. (Speculation)

In a teaser for the Making of a Song series, Taylor is seen in an unfamiliar outfit (black mesh top) with bleached hair and a thin gold choker that she was fond of in October 2016. She is not wearing her silver J pendant, which she got as a 27th birthday present (Dec 13, 2016). IDWLF is the only song with no video footage that was written in 2016. I don't recognize the studio in the clip, but she recorded IDWLF with Jack Antonoff, who is based in New York. Taylor was on the east coast until October 22nd, and was seen in New York between October 11-13.

Delicate: Oct. 24-26 (Speculation)

Taylor is seen wearing the aforementioned thin gold choker, with her post Sep. 24 haircut (straight across bangs instead of a side part). Since she normally goes into the studio with Max Martin and Shellback with a few ideas, and creates multiple songs during their sessions, I'm inclined to group this song with IDSB and place it in late October.

I Did Something Bad: Oct. 14, 27 (Confirmed)

In the Making of a Song video, at 4:18 you can spot a gold temporary tattoo on the inside of her wrist, similar to ones she was wore at Drake’s Birthday Party on October 23. Since she is seen working until sundown (She leaves LA on October 28) and had to be in Nashville 13 days priar (She was seen in New York City until the 13), October 14 and 27th are the only dates that make sense.

January 3, 2017: Taylor writes in her diary "I get all scared about the future because so much has changed in the last year of my life. I mean this time last year I was living in LA, getting ready for Grammys and now, I’m essentially based in London, hiding out trying to protect us from the nasty world that just wants to ruin things. We have been together and no one has found out for 3 months now. I want it to stay that way because I don’t want anything about this to change or become too complicated or intruded upon. But it’s senseless to worry about someday not being happy when I am happy now. Ok. Breathe."

Don't Blame Me: Jan. 10, 11, 12 (Inferring)

Taylor is seen wearing a similar jacket as she was papped wearing on the 11th in the Making of a Song video. (This is pure speculation on my part, but the mood also seems to be a bit lower than on other days). We know she was in LA around this time “for work.”

Dancing With Our Hands Tied: Jan. 11 (Confirmed)

This post explains the situation pretty well. There are multiple accounts of what seems to be a similar story. January 11th one of two times she is seen leaving the gym after a long paparazzi dry spell, the other being in July. Seeing as the song is produced by Max Martin, who is located in LA, and the July pictures are in New York, I’m inclined to agree with the original source.

Dress: Late January/Early February 2017 (Speculation)

Jack Antonoff: “Dress is my second favorite [from Reputation]. It's the first one we made for it." Taylor was mostly based in London in early 2017, but there’s two times we know she was in the states. The first is in early January, when Taylor was in California working with Max Martin and Shellback. The second time is in late January/early February, when she was in Nashville preparing for Super Saturday Night. My guess is this was written in Late January, mostly because she was on the east coast, but theoretically she could've done it earlier in the month, or even later in the year.

Look What You Made Me Do: Late January/Early February 2017 (Speculation)

In promos for the Making of a Song Video, as well as in Miss Americana, Taylor is seen with straight hair and her J initial necklace (dating the song to post-Dec 13, 2016). Her hairstyle (the deep side part) is very Mid-2016. For most of 2017, she seems to favor the straight across braids with strands on the side. Long story short (ha), the hair makes me what to put this as early in the timeline as possible. We know Taylor was on the east coast (specifically Nashville) in early February, preparing for Super Saturday Night.

New Years Day: 2017 (Unknown)

There isn’t any footage of this, but Jack Antonoff has said that it came together fairly quickly and unexpectedly while they were hanging out at his house.

...Ready For It?: May 2017 (Speculation)

In promos for the Making of a Song series, as well as Miss Americana, Taylor is seen with curly hair, her J necklace, and not her Sapphire Evil Eye Ring, which starts showing up on June 27th (We don’t know exactly when or why she got the sapphire ring). . Since the song partially focuses on whether or not her lover is ready for the media frenzy that surrounds dating her, I’m inclined to place this song in May, when her and Joe’s relationship leaked to the press. The song was recorded in Sweden, and we can assume she was in Europe between May 15 and June 1, 2017. (That being said, we can assume she is in Europe for most of the first half of 2017).

Call It What You Want: June 2017 (Speculation)

In the Making of a Song series, Taylor is seen with straight hair, her J necklace, and not her sapphire evil eye ring. Once again, I am tempted to put this after her relationship leaked to the press, probably in early June (She is in the states on the 1st and 3rd, and probably leaves sometime in mid-June).

End Game: Mid July (Confirmed)

Ed Sheeran has said that the song was written around July 14th, while he was playing in Connecticut and Taylor was in Rhode island. Ed: End Game was written - I was playing Mohegan Sun in Connecticut, and she has a place in Rhode Island, which isn't too far. So she hits me up like, 'I know you're in Connecticut, come around.' I go around, she plays me some of what turned out to be reputation, and plays me this End Game, and I was like 'Man, I really like this. Can I do a verse? Can I do a rap verse?' And she was like, 'Yeah, for sure!' So the next day, I remember, I was in bed, and woke up and got my laptop out, put the song, just looped it, wrote this verse, and I went in with Max Martin, who she did the song with, and recorded it. Then Future did a verse, and then Taylor wrote a verse and we did the video.

Getaway Car: July 2017 (Speculation)

In the Making of a Song series, Taylor is seen with curly hair, her J necklace, and her sapphire evil eye ring, placing the song sometime shortly before/after June 27th. We know she was in the states for most of July, and in New York City on the 17th and 24th.

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things: July 2017 (Speculation)

In the Making of a Song series, Taylor is seen with straight hair, her J necklace, and her sapphire evil eye ring. For all the same reasons as Getaway Car, this song was probably recorded in July. The exact order of Getaway Car and TIWWCHNT is probably impossible for anyone not involved in the making of the song to know. I could see arguments for either order, but Taylor has said that reputation is in fairly chronological order, I’m putting it in order of tracklist.

So It Goes: September 2017 (Inferring)

Oscar Görres, a cowritter on the song, said he got a call from Max Martin, Shellback, and Taylor asking to use his track after he’d just had a child. According to social media, he had a daughter in 2015 and a son in September of 2017. The interview is a bit confusing, timeline-wise. On one had, Görres says “I’d just become a father,” but then he implies that Max and Shellback had already completed most of the album. (For context, English isn’t his first language). Personally, I believe the believe the September 2017 date. Multiple sessioners have said Taylor said all songs on the album were about her relationship with Joe, and the tracklists in the reputation magazines are out of order, suggesting a late change. Taylor has has also been known to add a song to the album incredibly last minute— most notably Forever & Always on Fearless, but also with Death By A Thousand Cuts on Lover, which had to have been written post April 20, 2019 (but that's for another album).

And that's all for this timeline! Check out my others:

TIMELINES: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights PLAYLISTS: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights • entire discography GENERAL: tag

#txt*#timeline*#taylor swift #sure let’s do it tonight why not

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juyeonszn · 8 months

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PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER (PT. 2)

PAIRING kevin moon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 5.60k

GENRES angst ﹒little bit of fluff ﹒little bit of smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, reader is better than me cause i would not let kevin do all the shit he’s done 😭, ANYWAY i digress, this part is very reader-centric — whereas part one is very kevin-centric, inner turmoil goes absolutely crazy, most of this fic is reader putting kevin in his place and him realizing how big of an asshole he truly is, mentions of injury (past tense), mentions of insecurity, lots of arguing, reader cries at one point or another, the smut places a very minimal role in this, but unprotected sex, public sex (the auditorium dressing room), no foreplay but wtv we fall like soldiers in battle, pussy job lowkey (high key…), creampie, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY it wasn’t like you and kevin hated each other. in fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

MORE oh my god. it’s finally fucking here. A MONTH, 2 SICKNESSES AND MANY MANY STRESSFUL NIGHTS LATER— part two of princess and the pauper is here!!! i’m so sorry to those of u who have been itching and waiting on me to get ‘er done,,, it’s been an ordeal to say the least, and while it’s nearing the two month mark since the black out or back out collab was announced, SHE FINALLY FINISHED!!! for once i saw something through omg i can sleep peacefully and work on my other wips without guilt now… 😭 ALSO THANK U SO MUCH MAYA @/kimsohn FOR PUSHING ME THROUGH THIS and for making me thug it out bc without u it definitely would’ve taken much longer to finish 💔 please dont forget to read part one and the other fics in the series if u haven’t!! both are linked below! and as always, pls reblog if u enjoyed <3

PART ONE | SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr @sunwooverse @kimsohn

TAGLIST @millksea @deobibbang @deobi0412

Never in your life have you felt so… Confused.

It wasn’t just confusion that settled deep in the pit of your stomach. There was a sharp pain there too, like someone stabbed you and twisted the knife. That was probably the best way to describe what you were feeling. You were bleeding out, and no one was coming to save you.

Kevin wasn’t answering your calls. He wasn’t answering your texts. He ran out of the lecture hall as soon as class was over, never giving you a moment to speak to him. It was making you nervous.

You still had half of a dance to choreograph and a fuck ton of pressure riding on your back. After the last performance you and him did together, you’d have a lot of eyes on you. It most definitely wasn’t your fault that he dropped you. How many people willingly want to acquire a broken ankle? The crutches were a bitch to maneuver around with. But like every single thing that’s happened in the three years you’ve known Kevin Moon, he’s managed to place the blame on you like it was.

It was crucial that you make amends with him even if it was momentarily. Your final grades were dependent on your performance. If he couldn’t get his shit together for at least that, he was a lost cause in your mind. Not even your professor would be able to refute that fact. Actually, nobody would be able to refute that fact.

Your lips form an O as you blow the steam away from your coffee, pulling out your phone to try Kevin’s phone once again. The line rings a few times before going straight to voicemail like it has the past couple weeks. You kiss your teeth, tying your sweater around your waist as you slump in your chair. The baristas at the campus cafe were probably sick of seeing you sitting in the same high-top counter spot since the incident with Kevin in the studio.

“Y/N?”

Ji Changmin appears beside you and you click your phone off, so he wouldn’t see his friend’s contact on the screen. You give the Early Childhood Dev major a weak smile.

“Changmin! What’s up? How are you and your girlfriend?” You hope he can’t recognize the distress written all over your features. You highly doubt it, though. You can feel the wrinkles pulling at your skin.

“We’re good! How’s the showcase performance going with Kev?” He asks like he knows something you don’t. When your lips fall to a thin line, an all too familiar grimace, he sighs a knowing sigh. “Do I have to smack some sense into him?”

“Not gonna lie, yeah, you do. He’s being really fucking difficult and like half of our dance is unfinished. I can’t even get a hold of him, so I’m starting to lose my patience.” You express your annoyance. The border between complacency and free-will was a lot slimmer than one might think. For example; your feelings when it comes to Kevin Moon.

You don’t expect to get a returning call later that night when you’re washing dishes after dinner.

In fact, you don’t even hear it at first, too absorbed in scrubbing the staining out of your bowl. It’s when your roommate yells out to you, that you snap out of your reverie, albeit dazedly. You dry your hands on a nearby tea towel, hitting the green answer button without a second glance at the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Your heart catches in your throat. You recognize the owner of the voice practically by the first breath into the receiver alone. It’s actually kind of unhealthy how quickly it took to realize who was on the other end. You swallow heavily, praying he doesn’t hear the gulp.

“In the latter part of the afternoon, I believe. Why?” You try not to sound hopeful. That’s one thing you’ve learned being in the same vicinity as Kevin Moon. You could never be too expecting, because it would only lead to disappointment. And you’d dealt with enough of that the past few years.

“We need to finish this fuck ass choreography,” he grunts, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue. “I’ll meet you in the same studio at 4.”

He doesn’t let you get anything else in, hanging up swiftly. You deflate as you set your phone back on the counter. All you had to do was push through these next couple weeks, like you always have when it came to him.

That should be a piece of cake, right?

Wrong.

“No, that looks stupid.”

You grit your teeth, swiping the back of your hand on your forehead. You’d been inside of this studio maybe 30 minutes tops, and you were on the verge of strangling Kevin. With as long as you’d been putting up with his shit, you thought getting through this wouldn’t be as rough as it’s been. But if there was one thing Kevin Moon had, it was pride.

“We don’t have time for you to nitpick right now. Let’s just finish the choreography and clean it after.” Your hands rest on your hips, nostrils flaring.

“If we clean as we go, we’ll have more time to drill it into our systems and get down muscle memory. It’ll be a stronger performance.” He argues. You roll your eyes as you turn away from him, taking a water break to calm yourself. “Why do you have so much fucking attitude today? You were the one preaching to the choir about me making things difficult. It seems the tables have turned.”

Usually, you were pretty good at keeping your frustration at bay when it came to Kevin’s remarks. You liked to think it was because you were down bad for the guy, despite him always wanting nothing to do with you. But as of late, (Read: Since your performance of Princess and the Pauper) every little comment he’s made has managed to crawl under your skin like a damn parasite. You were beginning to get real sick of it.

“God, you’re so—“ You interrupt yourself to groan, fingers curling into fists. “You’re fucking insufferable. Do you know that? I’ve been bending over backwards to ensure we aren’t kicked out of the goddamn program and you don’t even fucking care. Over what? A kiss that you initiated?”

Kevin is stunned into silence, not at all prepared for you to blow up on him like that. After all, that razor thin line between complacency and free-will had yet to be crossed. And well, it appears that you just crossed it. You whip around toward him, pulling down the collar of your t-shirt to reveal the faintest of bruises that still remains from your impromptu act of intimacy.

“I’ve had to look at this every day for a week and all it’s done is make me feel shitty, ashamed of something I didn’t even start. Now I need you to stop acting like an ass and get it together so we can finish this and perform the best dance this university has ever seen.” Your chest is heaving up and down, similarly to when you made out against the mirrors last week. Except this time isn’t out of breathlessness, but rather anger and exhaustion.

Kevin’s eyes don’t leave the hickey on the base of your throat, something undetectable swimming in them as he stares. You can’t read the emotions swirling rampantly in his irises, a mixture of too many blurring into one another. Honestly, it’s funny. It’s funny that it’s taken you this long to get him to shut his mouth for once.

So you laugh.

It’s a snort at first, an off handed projection of how comical the situation has become to you. But then it metamorphoses into a small giggle, which leads to full scale laughter that has you hunching over your knees and wiping away tears. This whole thing is stupid. Absolutely fucking stupid.

“What are you laughing at?” His eyebrow raises in question, broken from his weird trance.

“I just can’t believe it took three years for me to shut you up,” you shake your head slowly, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm. “You’re always the one who can’t stop talking.”

Kevin deadpans, mouth pulled pin-straight as his expression drops. “You’re so unserious.”

As the height of your laughter reaches a valley, you collapse onto the ground, resting your back against the mirror. You take another long sip of water before sighing. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. Trust me, I know. But, we’ve gotta set aside our differences just this once. Please, for the sake of the department.”

“Fine,” he murmurs, plopping down beside you to stretch his back. “Let’s finish choreographing so we can start cleaning it up.”

It’s a victory in your book, and probably the most obedient the Pisces has ever been. Maybe this wouldn’t end in complete disaster like you assumed it would. It turns out Kevin Moon wasn’t entirely brainless and knew when he was wrong. Sometimes. Maybe. We’ll see.

You shut your eyes and visualize what you’ve choreographed so far, going over the moves in your head to see if the rest will come to you like a prophecy. It’s wishful thinking, but with how much you’ve accomplished since setting foot in the studio, you’re willing to try anything. The track would be nice for elements of hip hop style choreography, but you knew the audience wouldn’t eat it up as much as they would the route you’re currently taking.

Driver roll up the partition, please…

The song plays through the speakers and you watch as Kevin stands to run through everything you have. You’re entranced by his movements, the flow of his body on certain points. It’ll look ten times better once you’re doing it with him, costumed and performing it perfectly in front of a crowd. You can picture it now, the gentle but controlled glide of his hands along your arms when Beyoncé sings “We ain’t even gonna make it to this club”. He was right. You very well might be seduced by your enemy.

“Should we use props?” You suddenly voice, eyes narrowed in thought. He hums.

“That’s… not a half-bad idea, actually,” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “What did you have in mind?”

“A chair, maybe,” you look away from him, placing your focus on the way your toes alternate between a tendu and relaxed position. “That could take up a good chunk of the choreo.”

Kevin stalks over to the supply closet in the corner of the studio, pulling out a folding chair. He puts it in the center of the room gently, careful to not scratch up the wooden, lacquered flooring. You spend the next couple of hours brainstorming through numerous versions of the dance. While it was a lot easier than your past practices, there were still the occasional argument over which movements looked good and whatnot.

At a certain point, everything becomes cohesive and the end is near. You gulp down some water as Kevin does some random choreography. It’s then that it comes to you, like a vision from That’s So Raven. You practically drop your water bottle, scrambling to your feet and stopping him. Your breath is heavy from fatigue and you’re slightly afraid of even suggesting this, but it’s exactly what this dance needs. It’s exactly what everyone wants to see from the two of you.

He pauses the music and gestures for you to get on with it. You push down the lump in your throat, scared of rejection. But maybe he was smart and he would agree that this is what you have to do. “What if we did a lift?”

You see the hesitation swirling in his eyes and you raise a finger before he can shut you down entirely. “Nothing crazy like… um— you know— Princess and the Pauper, but something smaller. Something… sexy? Like, Dancing with the Stars type beat.”

When he shrugs instead of outright dismissing your idea, you know you’ve won. He nods slowly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Okay, sure. But we better clean up everything else fast so we can perfect the lift.”

The two of you take another three hours running the entirety of the choreography, ingraining the moves into your brains and muscles. You still had a bit until the actual showcase, but your priority now lies with the lift. If you nailed it, the entire department would very well grovel after you in reparation for all of the slack you got after Kevin dropped you. Hell, the entire university would kiss your feet. This was your redemption. In more ways than one.

You both decide to call it a day at around 9:30 PM. Your hands reach for your belongings and then you halt yourself, a thought coming to mind. While you had him in this weird state of obedience, you figured it was as good a time as any to ask the question that’s been weighing on you for the past few years. Your fingers swipe away the sweat beading around your hairline.

”Kevin,” you start, voice a lot softer than before. “Why do you— what did I do to make you dislike me so much?”

He’s caught completely off guard, eyes widening in surprise. If he was anticipating you to say anything else prior to parting ways tonight, he didn’t think this would be it. He’s actually a little off put that you hadn’t asked him this already in the span of your definitely-one-sided rivalry. He takes a large gulp of water.

”I’d call it indifference, not dislike,” he corrects after a pregnant silence. “It’s really fucking stupid thinking about it in hindsight. I don’t know if you remember this time, way back in our first year, we ran into each other at the campus cafe— literally, might I add— and you spilled your coffee all over this white shirt of mine that Changmin had gotten for me as a birthday gift. I only recently found out that it wasn’t as expensive as he made it out to be.”

You blink at his admission, processing his words as thoroughly as possible. You don’t know what you wanted him to say. You weren’t even sure if there was a concrete reason for him to be so fucking mean to you all this time. And now that you know, you come to the conclusion that Kevin Moon isn’t as smart as you’ve painted him out to be in your head. He’s actually a gigantic idiot. Because who in their right mind goes through these lengths to form a distance between the only other person on par with their talent?

Before you can stop yourself, you’re bursting into another fit of laughter. Kevin falters at your reaction. He was waiting for you to blow up on him, to scream in his face for causing you so much pain and unnecessary drama over something so silly. So when you do none of that, when you start fucking laughing like a damn hyena, he feels dumb. Like his entire college career has been built off of nothing.

”This is so—“ you pause to gather your bearings, wiping away the tears that managed to escape. “We’ve spent so much time going back and forth over some spilled coffee? Surely you’ve realized how insane that is at some point.”

”It took a lengthy argument with Changmin, but yeah, I did,” he nods, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, finally getting your things together. The two of you bid each other an awkward goodbye. Neither of you knew what to make of your relationship now that things had been partially sorted through. There was a fuck ton of baggage that still had to be sifted, but at least you had an answer.

That was enough to push through this showcase performance. You think.

You’re nervous.

Never in your entire life have you ever been this nervous for a performance.

You grew up doing musical theatre and dancing, it’s always been the one constant presence you could rely on. But standing here, backstage at the showcase, you think you’re going to throw up. Your palms are clamming up uncontrollably and your chest feels unbearably heavy as you watch the quartet doing a contemporary piece to some ballad you couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of. There were still a couple groups before you.

Not even when you had to perform fuckass Princess and the Pauper were you this anxious. You wince, trying to stop the incessant bouncing of your leg. Your weight keeps shifting from one hip to the other. As a seasoned veteran, you don’t know why you feel this way. Maybe it had to do with all the pressure riding on this very dance. Every single eye in that crowd was going to scrutinize your every move on that stage.

“Calm down,” a voice whispers harshly from beside you. “You’re making me nervous.”

Kevin wraps his fingers around your wrist, stopping the annoying tap-tap-tap your own were doing against your thigh. He gives you a look, and you sigh. “Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

That’s a lie. Not only was the high expectations from the entire school getting to you, but so was the fear of history repeating itself. He knows this, it was inevitable. After what happened the last time he was tasked with lifting you, it was only natural.

”We’ve drilled this dance hundreds, if not thousands, of times, Y/N. We’ll do just fine.” Kevin assures you.

His hand feels foreign holding yours, like it was illegal for his skin to be touching your own. You feel your lower lip quiver, a sense of trepidation that you’ve never once felt creeping down your spine. Your mind was spiraling, and quite honestly, Kevin being so close was making it worse. All you could think about was him dropping you again, leaving you in the middle of the stage with a broken leg and a broken heart. You release a shaky breath and he turns to face you.

Your eyes widen and he searches your face for any disingenuity. When he finds his answer, he brings the hand that was holding yours up to cup your cheek. He’s cautious, afraid he might break you like he always does. He waits for you to shove him away and to yell at him for being a fucking coward.

You don’t. You stay still, hoping he follows through with what you think he’s about to do. And then he does.

It’s such a featherlight peck of his lips on your own, you almost don’t even register. But sparks shoot from the source all the way to the tips of your fingers. You feel as if you were dealt a static shock of electricity, your whole body buzzing from the small kiss alone.

He pulls away just in time for the stage manager to inform you that you’re next. Kevin rolls his neck jogging over to the wings to patiently await your performance like he hadn’t just kissed you a moment ago. You blink dumbly, two fingers coming up to touch where his lips had been. Sure the nerves were gone now, but the sensation of butterflies swarming about in your stomach easily replaced that. What the fuck was his problem?

“Our last performance is one I’m sure all of you have been waiting for. Kevin Moon and Y/N L/N with Partition!”

Before you know it, you and Kevin are in position, your body squared upstage and his to the crowd. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his arm wrapped around your waist and his steady breathing on your nose. The spotlight switches on, the heat of the lighting warm against the side of your face. It’s silent in the auditorium, but it rings in your ears. You could do this.

Let me hear you say ‘Hey Miss Carter’…

You move on reflex, muscle memory kicking in instantaneously. Each circle of your hips, every turn you make— a fouetté here, a pirouette there, a couple coupes, each roll of your body. But what really gets you is the long brushes of Kevin’s skin on your own. You’d practiced with distance between the two of you. There was a tension that had been there for years. Now it’s all coming to a rolling boil, a new uncharted tension that every single member in that audience could see.

And then comes the lift.

You, along with everybody in the auditorium, practically hold your breath when Kevin’s hands grip your hips. He raises you above him with all of his strength, completely focused on you and only you. You shut your eyes and feel the moment, like, really feel it. Your body is relaxed, the Dirty Dancing-esque lift bringing the whole performance together just like you knew it would. The only difference from the movie and real life is the fact that you’re flipped, your backside to Kevin and your chest to the ceiling.

Your eyes flutter open, the spotlight all but blinding you, and you finally feel content. Like everything has fallen into the right place for once in your life. Especially so when Kevin sets you down gently and you finish your dance with the utmost confidence.

The crowd erupts into a roaring chorus of applause, going as far as giving you a standing ovation. Holy shit. You pulled it off. You actually managed to pull it off.

Your face feels like it might split from how big your smile is. You and Kevin bow, walking off stage. You’re entirely too happy right now, a newfound energy overtaking you as you trail behind him.

“We did it!” You cheer as you follow him towards the dressing room where your things are. You’re the only ones left backstage, everyone else filtering out between performances. Kevin doesn’t give you much of a response, just a small nod of acknowledgment. Your smile falters. “What the hell is your problem?”

”Nothing, Y/N, fuck. Can you just mind your own fucking business?” He snaps, turning around to glare at you just as the door slams behind you. You instinctively flinch at both loud noises. His features soften but you take a step back from him.

You aren’t sure why you’re surprised. This isn’t anything new. Kevin has always made it crystal clear that he wasn’t your number one fan. Being neutral for your performance wasn’t enough to repair all the holes in whatever your relationship was, and you should’ve known better. You shouldn’t have let your guard down so easily. You should’ve expected this. Old dogs can never learn new tricks.

But Kevin’s scared. He’s afraid of letting you in after all the mess he’s put you through. The only thing he’s good at doing is hurting you, over and over like there was a prize that came out of it.

”Look…”

”No, you listen to me,” you swallow heavily, tears already tight lining your eyes. “Kevin, I have taken so much shit from you. Over these past few years I have just sat there and let you unload all your fucked up insecurities onto me. Have you ever wondered why? Have you ever thought to stop and think about why I let you be so mean to me without even questioning it?”

He says nothing, just stares with his lips parted. They open and close like a fish out of water, words there at the tip of his tongue but refusing to make their escape. And then one of your tears rolls down your cheeks and he’s directly in front you, his heart on his sleeve for the first time since you’ve met him.

”Why?” The simple question is so quiet, you almost don’t hear him. But his eyes hold so much hurt, so much anguish that you’ve never seen in a person before.

“I’ve had feelings for you for so long, it’s actually starting to ache. You’ve only ever seen me as this thing, this obstacle. And I’m afraid that that’s all I’ll ever be to you, because you won’t let me be anything else. You won’t—“

”That’s not true, Y/N,” Kevin sighs, looking off to the side, away from you. “I just— it’s complicated. It’s more than just being rivals.”

”So help me understand,” you frown. “Let me in, please.”

”My entire life I’ve had to work to get to where I am. I’ve fought tooth and nail to be as good of a performer as I am today. There were so many hoops I had to go through to even get into this program and— and I thought I’d finally become the best I could be. I thought that there was no way anyone could ever be better than me. And then you showed up. You and your pretty smile and your natural ability to be the best at everything you do. It was like you were the real life manifestation of all of my critics, of every challenge I faced to get here. Where I had to practice day and night to perfect something, it just came to you like second nature. During Princess and the Pauper, when I dropped you, it truly was an accident. But we’d spent so much time nailing it, that it— I just made myself feel better by saying it was your fault. ‘How could it have been my fault if I perfected it?’ I was jealous and petty and it was just easier to blame hating— to blame my indifference on you spilling coffee on my stupid shirt. For that, I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what you were waiting to hear, but it wasn’t that. Your tears turn into full on blubbering, because what the fuck? That’s so much burden for someone to carry on their shoulders for three years.

“Why are you— why are you crying?” He flounders, reaching up to swipe away your tears.

“I wish I knew… I wish I could’ve helped you somehow,” you sniffle. “Kev, I’ve always admired you and your work ethic. I hoped one day I’d be half as disciplined as you, half as determined.”

He blinks. You’re both dumb, aren’t you? Too focused on the wrong things. You both could’ve been a lot less hateful, a lot less miserable, had you just spoken your differences out. This entire rivalry has been completely one sided, but also built off of plain stupidity and ignorance. He supposes it’s not too late to make amends if you aren’t running in the opposite direction despite everything he’s put you through.

Kevin leans forward, hand still pressed to your cheek, and connects your lips softly. He’s testing the waters, making sure you’re comfortable before he continues anything. When you don’t back away just yet, he adds more force, deepening the kiss like a man starved. You whine against his lips.

This is what you’ve been wanting from him. More than what he gave you before your performance, but not what happened in the studio a few weeks ago. This desperation isn’t abashed lust, it’s unbridled affection— it’s everything he’s holed inside of himself for years, unwilling to let it see the light of day until now. If you were to label anything as perfection, it wouldn’t be a dance or a moment on stage, it would be this. Just you and Kevin finally bringing yourselves together in the most intimately emotional union.

He pulls you closer to him, hands sliding down to grasp at your waist, bunching up the thin fabric of your leotard. You can’t help but bury your fingers in his hair, tugging when he nips at your lower lip. A gasp permeates the air when his mouth travels south, along your jaw and down the side of your neck. He bites and sucks the tender skin at the base of your throat, ensuring he leaves his mark on you. This time isn’t careless, this time he has purpose. He wants everybody to know that you’re his, that you’re the only person insane enough to put up with him.

Your breathing is shaky when you reach behind you to lock the dressing room, dragging him over to the long vanity adjacent to you. He slots between your legs when you hoist yourself onto the surface. He pecks your lips and pauses his movements, rubbing up and down your thighs. In the dim, yellow lighting of the room, you look so gorgeous. He’s always thought you were beautiful, the most stunning thing he’s ever laid his eyes on, but he’s repressed it for so long. He wants to take his time staring at what he’s avoided.

”You’re so pretty,” he says quietly, kissing you again and again and again. “I don’t think I can last long with you.”

“Can we skip the foreplay?” You ask, bottom lip jutted into a pout. “Need you to just fuck me like you mean it.”

Kevin’s forehead falls to your shoulder with a groan. “I don’t deserve you,” God, he’s such an idiot for holding out from this. You should’ve been given the world and so much more. He has a lot of lost time to make up for. He kisses your shoulder with a sigh. “Yeah, baby, I can do that.”

You don’t waste another second, slipping your arms through the sleeves of your leotard. He has to bite down on his tongue when he sees that you’re braless, fingers going slack as they unbutton the rest of his silk shirt. You shimmy out of the one piece, left in nothing but the fishnet stockings you wore underneath and your lacy panties. Kevin thinks he must’ve done at least something right in a past life to experience this.

Your eyes sparkle as you look up at him, undoing his slacks and kicking them down his legs with your feet. Something takes over him when he rips a bigger hole in your stockings, pushing your underwear to the side. His thumb glides through your folds with ease, your slick providing enough lubricant. He pushes your lower lips apart while you busy yourself shoving his underwear to his ankles.

His cock slips inside of you with less friction than he would’ve thought, but he doesn’t complain, screwing his eyes shut as he acclimates to the feeling of your walls surrounding him. You moan, such a soft sound that he nearly loses his balance.

“You feel so good, baby,” he coos, digging his fingers into your hips as he rocks his own. “You’re so so perfect.”

The praise is too much for you, given the circumstances. Your brain is already cloudy, stuffed with what could only be described as cotton. You watch with half lidded eyes as he begins to piston into you at a faster speed. This all feels like a fever dream, something that was only possible in your craziest fantasies. Even then, it seemed unlikely.

“‘M close, Kev,” you whine, unable to stay still and attempting to match his thrusts.

“Already? We’ve only just started, gorgeous.” He laughs, but it’s breathy, strained from the exertion of his body. You hardly have the strength in you to be embarrassed about it, especially since he’s seen you in much worse situations.

You nod frantically, snaking a hand between you to circle your clit with nimble fingers. Kevin halts you and pulls out momentarily, sliding his cock between your folds like it was your hand. The tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves repeatedly, making you dizzier than you already were.

He presses back into you with ease, resuming his sloppy but animalistic pace. He uses his thumb to continue your handywork, your cunt fluttering around him needily. You’re both losing your sanity quickly, both going batshit insane over the bare minimum. You’ve just needed this for so long, yearned for this moment for a humiliating amount of time.

Your moans start to rise in pitch and he groans. “Fuck, baby, you can cum for me.”

He could cry, he thinks, when your back arches and your legs shake with your orgasm. It hits you like a freight train, triggering his own release just as fast.

You stay like that for a bit, regaining yourselves and comprehending everything that’s just happened. So much for the whole hating each other narrative.

“What does this mean for us?” You suddenly ask, arms hooked around Kevin’s neck. You’re still connected by your lower halves, but he makes no effort to pull away. Part of you likes it that way, it gives you hope that this isn’t a one time affair.

“It’ll be hard for things to change overnight,” he says, massaging your sides. “We have a lot of unresolved issues and insecurities that we still have to push past. But I’m willing to do that with you. I want to take a chance on us.”

Your lips pull into a smile, an expression you don’t think you’ve worn around him genuinely in the years you’ve known him. “I do, too.”

“It’s kind of ironic that it was a performance that tore us apart and brought us back together, don’t you think?” He laughs.

“And we fucked in the dressing room…” You add, glancing to the top corner where a security camera is stationed.

“Maybe we should get out of here before someone checks the footage,” he suggests. “Tau Beta Zeta is conveniently hosting our end of semester party tonight, do you wanna be my plus one?”

“I would be honored.” You grin, pecking his lips tenderly.

Perhaps happy endings existed after all.

#deoboyznet #the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz kevin #tbz kevin #kevin moon x reader #kevin moon smut #kevin x reader #kevin smut #moon hyungseo #blackoutorbackout🍻#juyeonszn

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 months

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Questions (Since I can't use the askbox anonymously anymore)

Hi! I don’t really agree with you on everything about Miraculous Ladybug, but I thought I might ask you some questions here since I don’t want to make an account to do so and I can’t use the anonymous ask anymore without one.

1. I Assume that your Chloe vs Daruizen post will probably attempt to compare a character who may have been teased as being potentially redeemable before pulling a fakeout vs one who quite possibly wasn’t (and had the show try to pretend otherwise). I’ve seen an essay arguing that Chloe wasn’t meant to be redeemed from another fan, so I would be interested in seeing if you would respond to some of their points.

2. Honestly, I haven’t seen a lot of good things about other Zagtoon shows – I remember Ghostforce in my mind stands out because the comments on the site I found it on describe it as a terribly formulaic Danny Phantom Meets Power Rangers setup, and they also mention other shows by Zagtoon, which they see as average at best. I know Miraculous Ladybug has its flaws and I shouldn’t necessarily be listening to strangers on the internet for opinions but if it’s the best/most successful show that Zagtoon can put out then it certainly seems like they have a problem, especially overambition. I could see them being like telltale games in that they have a huge hit or two and several flops that try to repeat the success but instead gradually drag the studio down.

3. I do feel that more of the fandom would be okay (not necessarily happy, just feeling a bit better) about Gabriel winning if Adrien found out about his father being Hawkmoth (and maybe got to finally have a permanent reveal to ladybug) and we at least got to see him decide on what to think about him knowing that. The antagonist winning can be a huge gamble in writing, for better (Watchmen - where it was thematically appropriate) or worse (Re: Creators – in fact, I think if you watched this show you would compare its main villain to Gabriel in some ways). Though, maybe it might be the other way around and the fandom would have preferred Ladybug winning for good without Cat Noir’s help (and him and the rest of Paris not finding out Gabriel was Hawkmoth), if the choice came down to that or my other proposal. Hell, just to ask you, which would you have preferred?

4. Do you think they are going to reveal that the Utopian Paris happened naturally (to push their messaging) or because of Gabriel’s wish? I would prefer the latter, as it would imply that Gabriel ruined another city/country in the process, which would give a good plot hook and remind us that he was still ultimately a villain. Finding a way to undo the damage would be another good plot.

5. I heard in the interview you did that there has been a bit of resentment against Jeremy Zag. I don’t really know why – is that because he just didn’t do anything about Astruc’s bad decisions, because he was apparently (as) difficult to work with, or something else? I do give him a bit more respect than Astruc for making the movie(s), at least.

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1. The main idea for that post (assuming I ever wrire it) is more to compare two irredeemable villains who have a history with the main character, and why I think Dariuzen does everything Chloe was meant to do, but better.

2. The issue with ZAG is that they keep coming up with poorly marketed shows and pointless Miraculous Ladybug specials. It’s a case of overambition at its finest.

3. All we really wanted was for Adrien to get some kind of closure with his dad after all the years the show spent tackling their tense relationship. That’s what so many people liked about the movie, that Adrien was able to appeal to Gabriel’s humanity and make him give up. Hell, if you wanted to split up the two, make it so they’re both doing something. Have Ladybug lead the charge against the Miraculized while Cat Noir fights Monarch.

4. I feel like it’s unfortunately going to skew towards the latter. People keep saying that the show meant to make the ending uncomfortable, but not only did the writers’ commentary confirm that they were done with the Agreste family arc, even the marketing seems to believe that Gabriel was a good man.

5. My best guess is that it’s the same problem most writers and executives run into: creative differences.

#thing delivered to my ask box because tumblr won't let me say the s-word #immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug salt #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #adrien agreste #cat noir #chat noir #chloe bourgeois #queen bee #queen b #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #hawk moth #monarch

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strangerquinns · 2 years

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Deadly Reunion | Chapter 6

Eddie Munson x female!reader // a stranger things apocalypse au

summary: You and Eddie have been best friends since childhood. But when the outbreak happened five years ago, you were torn from one another in the chaos. but now you’re left alone, after your group was killed by another radical crew, leaving you to seek out what was once home. // zombie apocalypse Hawkins set in 1993

warnings: angst + adult themes w/ descriptions of violence, blood, torture + other zombie apocalypse related issues

word count: 3.4k+

⪻ previous chapter | next chapter ⪼ | stranger things masterlist

March 24th, 1988 - Hawkins, Indiana

“How’s everything going out there? I haven’t heard from you in a while,” You spoke into the phone, which was pressed between your shoulder and your ear.

Your eyes looked out the window and scanned along the slightly busy streets of downtown Hawkins. It was a warmer, sunny day in the small town, the signs of spring and warmer weather showing more and more each day. But even with the town being a little busier than usual, the small bookstore that you worked at was void of any customers. Which didn’t bother you much. Gave more time to clean, read and call Sarah whenever you wanted.

“Everything is going well! Boys are always working late at the studio, so I’ve been left to my own devices on finding stuff to do around here.” Sarah giggled lightly.

“You gettin’ into trouble?” You laughed breathily as you continued to people watch.

“Maybe,” You could hear the smile in Sarah’s voice.

In the background, you could hear a few voices along with some commotion. Your heart leaped slightly as you heard a deeper, familiar voice in the background. Your body couldn’t help but react and sit up straighter. It was like it was its natural reaction.

You hadn’t talked to him since the day outside his trailer. They left the weekend after that fight and Eddie never reached back out to you. Not like you did either. You were too hurt and too scared. Eddie had never yelled at you like that, and he had a beautifully sick way of making his words cut deep when he wanted them to. So instead, you let him go. No matter how much it hurt.

Sarah seemed to pause for a moment and you were thankful. Able to hear his laugh as he joked with whomever else was there. You didn’t miss how your heart raced either.

“Boys are back from the studio,” Sarah spoke after a while.

“How is he?” You asked softly, turning your eyes away from the window. Instead facing the empty bookstore and staring off toward the dark wooden shelves.

Your hand moved up and began to fidget with the red and black pick that hung from your neck. Even after six months, you couldn’t bring yourself to take it off.

Sarah sighed deeply, “He’s…Eddie. I don’t understand why you just don’t talk to him. I can tell he misses you.”

“Yeah, well, he could call as well.”

“He’s a bit of a jackass in that department. His ego won’t let him, even when he knows that he’s wrong.” Sarah scoffed. “Just call him. Ok?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You sighed deeply and felt a heavy sadness come over you. “Be careful ok? News is getting scarier lately with those reports coming in from Russia. That…what was it? Virus?”

“Something like that. You’re sounding like my dad. We’re gonna be ok. But you stay safe too. This shit sounds serious.”

“We will. I love you, Sarah.”

“Awe, I love you too.”

The two of you hang up and you were left along with your thoughts in the silence of the store. You grabbed the remote sitting beside you and turned the TV you’d muted earlier back up. The News was playing with the same story that had been running all day.

New Virus Outbreak reporting in Russia. 2 New Cases reported in D.C.

“…reporting the spreading of the virus is unknown, but it is acting fast. The two cases reported in Washington D.C. are now in the hospital and under surveillance. Doctors are unable to find a cure at this time.”

“Jesus Christ…” You muttered, just as a customer walked through the door.

The rest of your day was uneventful if only filled with the news and sitting by as customers came in and out of the store. Once you were locked up and closed, you headed back home. The town was silent as night fell over it, the sunshine from before now replaced with darkness and chilly air. The lights of your living room were on, and the curtains opened, allowing the yellow glow to spill over into the front lawn. You saw the shape of your mother as she seemed to be pacing through the home.

When you walked into the home you could hear the sounds of the radio playing in the kitchen, from what was being said, it was a news broadcast.

“…new cases now popping up in New York, Detroit, Atlanta, and Los Angeles. Reported 1,000 reported dead nationwide and more coming in on the hour…”

“Oh, thank god, you’re home.” Your mother spoke, rushing toward you slightly with a worried and frantic look in her eyes. She was trying to cover it with a shaky smile. But it wasn’t working.

It was then you noticed the bags and suitcases piled in the doorway of the living room. Your brows pinched together in confusion as you tried to figure out what was going on.

“W-We going on a trip I forgot about?” You asked.

“Baby, I need you to go upstairs and pack essentials.” Your mother spoke frantically, the mask she tried to have on slipping quickly. “We need to get out of here.”

“Get out? Why?”

“Cause I’m not sitting here like a waiting duck for shit to hit the fan,” Your mother pushed you lightly toward the stairs as she spoke. “The hospital was a mess today with worries of this new virus spreading, and it’s only a matter of time before it hits us. We’re too close to the city for it not to. And we’re not gonna be here when it happens.” You stood there and stared at her like she was crazy, “Go! Now!”

You gasped lightly awake as you heard the door opening to the room you were being kept in. You weren’t sure how much time had passed since it was a windowless room. But with the stomach pains you were having from the lack of food, it had to have been a long time. You sprang up quickly at the sound of the door but paused only for a second when Eddie came into view.

He was cleaned up and showered it seemed from the last time you saw him. His curls appeared to be only slightly damp as they hung around his face and down along his shoulders. Stubble decorated his jawline and cheeks, something you hadn’t really seen him with before.

Eddie’s lips tugged up with a wary smile as he moved to stand in the doorway. Even in an apocalypse, it seemed Eddie was still himself. Black jeans with a chain hanging from two of the loops on his belt, black tshirt with the sleeves torn off and frayed at the edges. With the sleeves gone, you were able to see more tattoos decorating his arms, arms that were bigger. You didn’t miss the definition in his arms as he moved to cross them at his chest.

“Joyce said you were asking for me?”

You just sat there pressed against the wall of the bed with your eyes looking at him wearily. It was then that it hit you, though you knew Eddie all your life. This person in front of you was a stranger.

Eddie's brows pulled together tightly for a moment as he looked at you. Noticing how stiff you were along with the widened fear in your eyes as you looked at him. He relaxed a little more and rose his hands up so you’d be able to see, before sidestepping into the room slowly.

“I don’t have anything on me…promise,” Eddie spoke slowly as he moved toward the seat at the corner of the room. “…just wanted to come and make sure you were ok.”

“I-I’m fine…” You spoke, your eyes never leaving his. “…she tell you I’m cleared…not Flayed?”

Eddie nodded “Yeah, though I believed you when you said. Don’t think that would be something that you’d lie about.”

You nodded your head and relaxed slightly as you moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Eddie took that chance to grab the chair and move it closer to you.

“Said they were bringing me food…” You looked around for evidence of anything being brought down when you were asleep.

“And I’m sure they still are,” Eddie nodded and leaned forward on his knees. “How are you feeling?”

“I-I don’t know…I feel like I’m dreaming…didn’t think I was gonna make it back here,” You spoke “Or see you, for that matter.”

Flashes of the last words he spoke to you came through your mind. But a part of you didn’t care. Not anymore, not after all this time.

Not after so much loss.

“I didn’t think I was ever gonna see you again either, sweetheart.” Eddie chuckled, almost like he himself couldn’t believe you were sitting in front of him. “Felt like I was lookin’ at a ghost.”

A silence fell over the two of you. No one knows what to say to the other. No one wants to say the wrong thing.

But after a few long, awkward pauses, you were the first to speak.

“Is Sarah here?” You asked, Eddie’s head popping up and his dark eyes widening slightly. “I figured if you’re here, that she would’ve come back too. And Gareth? Jeff?”

“Uh…shit…” Eddie reached a hand up and rubbed his hand along his jawline. “…can’t be shocked Hopper didn’t say anything.”

A hardened sickening feeling dropped into your stomach as you watched him. A cold chill rolled through your body as your eyes watered quickly with the familiar burning in your eyes.

“…no, no…” You shook your head and dropped your face into your hands.

“Fuck…” Eddie spoke and quickly abandoned the chair he was sitting in to move toward you. His arm came around your shoulder and your body began to shake as you cried. “…she came back with us, that much is true. She…She was killed… a few weeks ago by some raiders on a run.”

Weeks. It had been weeks. It hit hard in your chest to know you’d missed seeing her within weeks. Somehow that made it worse. Like if only you had left earlier then you would’ve gotten to say goodbye. Eddie kept his arms around you as you quietly cried. You turned toward him more at one point finding comfort in him. Once the tears stopped, you pulled away and wiped at your face. You sat there for a few minutes and let this new thing add itself to the grief that was already settled in your body.

“…at least she got to come back,” You spoke after a moment, trying to find a semblance of happiness in the dark truth.

“She did. Sarah helped get this place together with her dad, make a haven for people that didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Eddie decided to swallow down the fact that it was his fault, at least to himself, that Sarah was gone. Scared if you knew the whole story you’d only confirm his guilt more.

Also kept it down that he and Sarah were together the last few years.

“ Sadly Jeff didn’t make it out of LA. We joined a caravan group to get back to Hawkins. One night a hoard of Flayed came through, he was protecting Sarah when one got him.” Eddie frowned “She wasn’t…really the same after that.”

“Fuck,” You cursed low under your breath. “And Gareth?”

“Upstairs somewhere,” Eddie spoke with a slight smile. “He helps in the med clinic wing. Likes being able to help people. He knows you’re back and is a little anxious to see you.”

“Oh, good. Good. Fuck, thought maybe everyone…” You shook your head, “I can’t believe Sarah…goddamn it.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” Eddie moved and rubbed your back gently.

Eddie let you sit there in silence again for a long moment. Someone came down and slid a tray through the door for you. He had to stop himself from laughing at how fast you moved toward it. You’d snatched it off the floor and barely made it to the small table before you were shoving the food into your mouth. You’d fisted the burger between your hands and took a bite, moaning at the taste of a real meal. The sound of laughing drew your attention back to the man you’d left sitting on your bed. You glared at him as he sat there and chuckled at you.

“What are you laughing at? Hmm?” You spoke, words muffled by the half bitten food in your mouth.

“Nothing,” Eddie chuckled slightly. “Just funny…how something doesn’t change.”

You rolled your eyes and moved the chair he’d taken back toward the table. You continued to eat in silence and soon your stomach ached from too much food, not used to a full meal.

“Been a long time since I’d eaten anything outside of canned fruits and vegetables and jerky.” You sighed and reached back against the seat, pushing the tray away from you.

Eddie frowned, “How long?” You looked over at him with a slightly confused look. “How long were you on your own?”

“A while, I told you.” You spoke.

Eddie whispered your name softly, but you’d heard it. “Come on, I just…I just wanna know. I thought you were dead this entire time.”

“Did you look for me?” You asked, not able to look at him as you asked the question. “Did you care? Was I one of the first people on your mind when you crossed into town.”

Your tone is void of emotion. It was stiff and cold as you sat there with your back facing him more. Eddie hated that he couldn’t get a read on you. Moments ago, you were crying into his shoulder and now you were treating him like a stranger again. Deep down he understood why. Things weren’t the same as they used to and the last time he’d seen you weren’t a happy one. A moment that had been haunting him for the past six or so years.

“Of course, you were on my mind. The whole reason we came back was to make sure the people we loved were ok.” Eddie spoke, conveying his words with conviction in his tone. “LA was one of the first cities to go, and I knew we’d be fucked if we were there for long. It took us months to get here but you were on my mind the entire time. I couldn’t call and make sure that you were alive. And when we got here…after seeing Wayne was safe, your house was the next one after…and seeing…and…”

Eddie felt his throat tighten at the memory of coming across your house for the first time.

The streets were quiet as he traveled down the street with Gareth beside him. Most of the town had been cleared out for any of the Flayed, but that didn’t mean they weren’t vigilant. Wayne had taken them to the small camp that had formed right outside of town and that’s where they were settled after their long travel from California. But being back in Hawkins didn’t give Eddie the kind of hope and safety that he was hoping for. Not when he searched through the camp and didn’t see a sign of you.

“No one’s seen or heard from them since everything happened,” Wayne spoke with heavy sadness. “Chief and I went there, and it was crawling with some of those that fell sick. She wasn’t there, son.”

Eddie wasn’t just gonna take his Uncle’s word for it, sadly, he needed to see for himself. He and Gareth stepped over the bodies of the dead – both Flayed and Civilian. It brought sickness to his stomach, and it was never something one could get used to. Seeing the decrepit blackened bodies of those that were infected.

“Shit,” Gareth spoke as your family home finally came into view.

The front window was broken and smashed with some of the sidings starting to fall apart. It had been almost a year since the first day the virus hit the states and slowly overtook everything. It took only four days for the entire country, and the world, to fall apart. And in the year since, nature was slowly taking back what was once hers. Homes were falling apart from lack of maintenance. Lawns were overgrown with weeds and tall grass. Cracks showing more and more on the streets and sidewalks. Your family home was no different.

A hole had caved in at the roof, and part of it caved back into the home. His eyes traveled up to your bedroom window and saw as the wind caused the lace curtains through the opened window. Eddie moved quickly up the lawn no longer vigilant to any danger. He didn’t care. He needed to know if you were ok. Even though he logically knew you weren’t here.

The front door was propped open, either from looters or from when you left, he wasn’t sure. The floor creaked loudly as Eddie walked through the front doors. Since the front window was smashed in, bits of nature were slowly starting to grow into the home. Sprouts of grass, plants, and mold finding purchase in the rugs, couches, and walls.

Eddie slowly walked toward and saw that some of your family photos sat on the wall. He grabbed a small frame that held your high school graduation photo. Eddie didn’t hesitate to pocket it and toss it into one of the pockets of his bag. From behind him, Eddie heard Gareth walk in through the front door.

“Looks like they up and left,” He spoke, looking around and seeing everything was ripped apart. Drawers opened with the contents spilled out and scattered on the floor.

“Or someone came in here after a while and noticed no one was coming back.” Eddie sighed, “You know how fucking desperate people became lookin’ for supplies.”

Gareth nodded his head and sighed, “I know. I don’t think you’re gonna find what you’re lookin’ for man. She's obviously gone.”

Eddie ignored him and headed toward the stairs that would take him to the second floor. Some of the stairs were caved and broken, so he had to skip up a few to make it. When he got to the hallway, the only sign it’s been a while since anyone had been there was the dust sitting on top of tables and along the railing. Slowly, almost as if he was scared, Eddie walked toward your bedroom. The door was closed.

And as he approached the door, a part of him felt like he was invading your privacy. Like he was gonna crack open a mausoleum and disturb the dead. But after a few silent moments, his hand encased around the door knob before stepping inside. The room smelled of mold when he walked in, thanks to the open window. It looked like the first floor he’d seen. Posters still decorated the wall, though some sun damaged and ruined from the mold. It still brought a smile to his face. The bed was still made, the hamper filled with dirty clothes, and a book sat on your bedside table. He felt a hit to his chest when he saw the faded title, The Hobbit.

Eddie sat down on the bed and just sat there in silence. Needing to feel he was surrounded by you in some way. Seeing how your bedroom was left was what he needed to believe. Believe that you were gone. Believe he was most likely never seeing you again. Believe that you simply weren’t just hiding away from him. The feelings and hope he held onto to get back to Hawkins finally cracked and took over his body as it turned to an acidic sadness.

He crumbled as the tears moved down his cheeks and mourned you.

“You went to my house?” You asked, finally turning to face him. “After all everyone told you?”

“I didn’t believe them,” Eddie spoke tensely. “I also needed to see for myself…I-I couldn’t…I didn’t wanna think of the possibilities that everyone was lying.”

“Why would you think they’d lie about that?” You asked.

“Because of how we left things. I thought you hated me…I-I thought you’d never wanna see me again.”

A deep frown formed on your lips, “Guess I proved you wrong on that, huh.”

“Guess you did,” Eddie nodded.

“So now what?” You asked after another long moment.

“I don’t know. But I do know one thing, I’m not letting you out of my sight ever again.” Eddie spoke firmly.

reblog + like if you enjoyed

So, more Eddie and Reader like some of ya'll wanted. I hope you liked it! Getting more into how the outbreak happened and Eddie coming back to see Reader was gone. Please let me know your thoughts. I love the comments/replies you guys leave please keep 'em coming! They are an inspiration.

Also trying tagging again - if the list isn't there read this. It explains why.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x best friend reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things x reader #stranger things x female reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things fic #stranger things au #joseph quinn x reader

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noonaishere · 4 days

Text

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - eighty-eight | being kind is punk

Owing to some cola stains in the carpeting - and the carpet color being a color that was no longer used in the offices - the building manager, upon inspecting the room that would become your studio, decided that it was the rare moment in a building manager’s career where he would be able to change a rooms decor without having to inconvenience the person using it by kicking them out for a while. You didn’t mind, the idea of soda sitting in the rug for a while made you worried there might be bugs in or under the carpet, and since the other members of Crom3r were dealing with the emotional residue of their ex-producer, you didn’t want to deal with physical aspects, in the sense of suddenly finding pests in your private studio years down the line. As it was, you and Yujin were beginning your bass lessons in a lesson room you were given use of, until your studio was ready.

Yujin took out her bass and plugged it in and got comfortable in her seat. She watched you as you, bass in your lap, flipped through what you had prepared.

“Ooooookay. Did you go over what I gave you?”

“Oh!” She leaned over and took the folder you gave her out of her backpack. In the time between when you gave it to her, and her showing up for her first lesson now, she had covered it in stickers.

As she opened it to look for something, you read one outloud, red text over a picture of Karl Marx:

“‘Dude, I fucking warned you, I fucking told you bro.’”

“Oh!” She said, realizing what you were reading. “I’m sorry--”

You laughed. “Don’t be. The man was right.”

She laughed awkwardly. “It’s such bullshit that he was right so long ago, and we’re still doing shit he critiqued… or worse.”

“You’re right about that.” You pointed to another sticker, “I also like the Lisa Frank dolphin next to the classic ‘Unionize’ fish poster.”

She looked at it and laughed. “I was going for a theme.”

You smiled. “I like it.”

She nodded awkwardly. “So… I went over the self-test,” she fished it out of the folder.

“How’d you do?”

“Um… I mean, I haven’t been playing that long, so I didn’t get very far.”

You took it from her and looked at her notes: what had been easy, what had been difficult, and the blank expanse of the second half denoting what she didn’t even bother trying at all.

“I’m sorry.”

You looked at her. Her brows were furrowed together in worriment, maybe she felt she had failed you or failed herself before she even got a chance to start. You smiled a small smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Wha-- isn’t it bad that I couldn’t finish it all?”

“Not at all. This was just to let me know what level we were starting at. I never thought you were a prodigy, and even if you were, I’d still have to know so I would know what to teach you.”

She thought for a moment and nodded.

“Okay? This was just for me to know where to start. That’s all it is.”

She nodded again. “Okay.”

“Okay? I’m not mean, I promise.”

She laughed softly.

“I had a really mean violin teacher when I was a kid, and I can promise you: I’ll never treat you the way they treated me, okay?”

Her eyes widened. “How mean were they?”

“Hmm…” How much did you want to explain? “He made me practice scales - at increasing speeds - until my fingers bled. And he made me practice bowing until I had to have an ice pack on my wrist, because the nerves were inflamed.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he was a mean guy.”

“Why didn’t your mom do something about it?”

“Well…” you weren’t sure how much to say without starting a huge conversation. “She didn’t see a problem with it.”

She gasped.

You raised your eyebrows in shock.

“That’s not punk rock.”

You laughed loudly. “I don’t think they were trying to be punk rock.”

“Being mean isn’t punk. Being kind is. Look--” she searched her folder for a moment for a white on black sticker that said ‘Being kind is punk’. “See?”

You chuckled. “Well I definitely agree with that. But, he and my mom were old farts, so they weren’t too concerned with being punk. Or kind.”

She frowned.

“But we don’t have to worry about them anymore. I haven’t seen them in years.”

“Good. They shouldn’t be known, if they treated you like that.”

You laughed. She was very decided for someone so young. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing your younger self, but if that younger self was allowed to be who she was, instead of having to hide. You shook off the feeling; you were supposed to be teaching bass, not getting emotional.

“So, I have something new for you,” you handed her a paper. It was a list of songs you’d be teaching her, along with the techniques that went with being able to play them:

Songs:

--Simple Money - Pink Floyd Back in Black - AC/DC Feel Good Inc - Gorillaz Funkenstein - Parliament Low Rider - War Good Times - Chic Give It Away - Red Hot Chili Peppers

--Medium Come As You Are - Nirvana My Sharona - The Knack Lust for Life - Iggy Pop Can’t Stop - Red Hot Chili Peppers Love Will Tear Us Apart - Joy Division I Want You Back - Jackson 5

--Complex Giant Steps - John Coltrane Roundabout - Yes Hysteria - Muse Wynona's Big Brown Beaver - Primus Killing in the Name Of - Rage Against the Machine Portrait Of Tracy - Jaco Pastorius Playing God - Polyphia G.O.A.T. - Polyphia Hemispheres - Rush YYZ - Rush Schism - Tool 46+2 - Tool

--Slap Bass Fun Zone! Alright - Jamiroquai Higher Ground - Red Hot Chili Peppers Earthquake - Graham Central Station Get on The Floor - Michael Jackson Guerrilla Radio - Rage Against the Machine Aeroplane - Red Hot Chili Peppers Emergency on Planet Earth - Jamiroquai

--Holy Blisters, Batman! Mr Pink - Level 42 Come on My Selector - Squarepusher

--Boy, Do I Love Practicing! Classical Thump - Victor Wooten

Her eyes went wide. “I… have to learn… all of these?”

You raised a brow at her. “Yes, right now.”

“What?”

You laughed. “Obviously not right now. This is for however long it takes for you to learn each song. We’ll start with one, and when you can play it correctly - and confidently - we’ll go onto the next one.”

“Oh…” she stared at the list.

“If there’s songs you like and really want to learn, we can add them too. These are just songs I think are good to learn to help you become a good bass player.”

She nodded, eyes still on the list. You took her silence as meaning you could keep talking.

“So I tried to organize them into easy, medium and hard, but really it’s more a scale of simple to complex? Like the techniques don’t change, but the bassist is using more techniques together or doing them faster or going from one to the other faster, and that makes it a little harder to play.”

“…Why does it say ‘Slap Bass Fun Zone!’?”

You laughed. “Because a lot of people like slap bass, ‘cause, you know, it makes da funny noises. So I added a bunch of songs that were good for practicing it.”

She nodded.

You let her look at the list some more. Did she know all the songs? Was she confused? Should you ask?

“‘Holy Blisters, Batman!’?” She asked.

“Those are really fast slap bass songs. And ‘Classical Thump’, the only song in its category, is a practice song that Victor Wooten wrote and later recorded for an album. It gets complex but we can take it slow.”

She nodded. “Why is there a Michael Jackson song?”

“His bassist, Lewis Johnson, was nicknamed Thunder Thumbs: absolute madman. You should look up concert footage of him when you get a chance.”

She nodded again. “Higher Ground? Isn’t that a Stevie Wonder song?”

You nodded. “Good eye. You're more than welcome to listen to the original, but the Red Hot Chili Pepper cover is a really good instance of slap bass because their bassist, Flea, puts a lot of juice into it. A lot of zest. A lot of… pizazz-- why are you looking at me like that?”

She looked from you to the list quietly. “Do you really listen to all of these groups?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You listen to so many things. I want to be like that.”

You felt like you were going to cry. Other people rarely complimented your wide musical tastes, and whenever someone did, it always made you a bit emotional. Even if you didn’t show it.

“Well, you know,” you started. “Just look for new things all the time, and you, too, can have a music player with a terabyte microSD in it that’s half full.”

She looked up from the list in shock. “Wha-- literally? Half full?”

“Yep.”

“You have that much music?”

“Mhm. Most of them are FLAC files so, you know, bigger than MP3s.”

“Yeah, but they sound so much better.”

You smiled and nodded. “It’s definitely worth sacrificing the space for.”

“Wow… that’s my new goal. I also want to be a person who listens to that much music.”

You laughed. “Let’s start with these songs and you can listen to their other songs, and bring me whichever ones you want to learn.”

She nodded emphatically. “How long do I have to learn each one?”

“How long? What do you mean?”

“I only have so long to learn them, right?”

You looked at her, confused. “Who told you that?”

“Well… we have to learn everything super fast, don’t we? Or they won’t let us debut.”

“Wha-- who said that?”

“Theo’s friend at another company.”

“Oh… at another company.” You nodded.

She looked at you, confused.

“Yujin, Wonderland won’t force you to debut if you aren’t all ready for it.”

“Oh… really?”

“Of course. At the very least, if we debuted you and you hadn’t practiced enough, *we’d* look bad, but I’m sure the CEO doesn’t want to put you all on a stage if he doesn’t think you’re ready for it yet.”

She nodded. “We met him when we signed our contracts.”

“What’d you think?”

“He was nice.”

“He helped me make your lesson plan.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. And if he can take that much care with making sure you’re learning what you need to learn, I don’t think he’ll force ONiiX to debut when you’re not ready. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now… What you really want is to be able to play these correctly and in time, and it’s not weird if you want to practice a particular part over and over.”

“Do people do that?”

Your eyebrows ticked up in concern. “What do you mean?”

“Do people practice a part of a song a lot?”

You looked at her for a second, a small smile snaking across your lips as you tried to suppress a laugh. “Um… Yujin, what do you do when you practice?”

She shrugged. “I listen to a song and try to play it.”

“You play it by ear?”

“Yes?”

You nodded.

“Is that bad?”

“No, if you’re playing the song right then it means that your ability to detect pitch is good.”

“I… it doesn’t always sound good though. When I play”

You nodded. “Why don’t you play me a song you feel you know well, and we’ll see.”

She looked at the list. “Um, I know this one,” she pointed to the list.

“Back in Black?”

“Yeah. My dad likes it.”

“Okay,” you took the paper from her and put it on the table. “Go ahead and play it, and I’ll see what you mean.”

The song itself, if it had been played completely correctly and in time, was a little over four minutes. It took more than that for Yujin to play it as it was riddled with mistakes and her rhythm was a little all over the place. Part of the reason for that was, when she’d make a mistake, she’d become frustrated, yell at herself under her breath, and then trip over herself as she tried to fix it.

You watched, keeping your expression neutral, so she wouldn’t react to you and further become frustrated.

When it was over, she looked at you. “...Yeah.”

You nodded.

“We’re…” she whispered, “we’re going to be able to debut, right? Bibi is a really good singer, and Soul is an expert drummer, and Theo is such a good guitarist… I don’t want to disappoint them if I can’t keep up…”

You smiled softly. “You’re going to debut.”

Her brows furrowed, creasing over the bridge of her nose; she didn’t believe you.

“For one thing, you have me on your side. And you heard me play, so…”

“I guess… Am I really bad?”

You sighed. “You’re not terrible… you’re just a beginner.”

She frowned.

“And I have to say, for someone who’s just starting out to already have a band and a record label?” You whistled long. “Not bad. I wish I could have done that at your age.”

Her frown subsided a little. “What were you doing at my age?”

You guessed you could tell her. “Hiding my bass at a friend’s house and only practicing on the weekends because my tyrant mother wanted me to play violin instead.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “You’re lying.”

You laughed. “I wish I was.”

She thought for a moment. “Your mom sucks. Ah--!”

You laughed loudly.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You shouldn’t be, you’re right.”

“My mom says I sometimes talk without thinking. It gets me into trouble sometimes.”

“Well, you’re not in trouble now because you’re totally right. She does suck, that’s why I don’t talk to her anymore.”

She nodded.

“But!” You clapped your hands together. “You’re not me. You don’t have to teach yourself secretly: you have a really cool bass teacher who can get your skills to where you need them to be. Okay?”

She nodded, a little more hopeful.

“So, one of the first things you need to learn is how to practice.”

“How?”

“Mhm. So there’s this guy, he’s a guitarist, but if you want to see a good representation of someone practicing by themself, you can look up Tim Henson from Polyphia - I put a couple of their songs on there - he streams his practice sessions sometimes and you can see how he goes about thinking about what he wants to practice, how he treats himself; he doesn’t get mad, he just does the part again until he finally gets it.”

She took a pen out of her backpack and wrote his name down on the song list. “Just-- over and over?”

“Yep. Breaking it down into smaller parts and working on it until he has it, maybe he tries it slower to figure it out, but then he puts the pieces together and plays it at full speed, and what do you know? Now he can play it.”

She nodded.

“‘Start slow, play it well, then get faster.’ Mark King who has a song in the ‘Holy Blisters, Batman!’ section of the paper said that. Paraphrased.”

“Ugh… I don’t want to play slow though. I hate slow songs.”

You laughed. “Did you come into the world knowing how to use chopsticks and a spoon? Or did you eat with your hands first and learn the other stuff later?”

She opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it. “I guess you’re right.”

You smiled. You remember being like that, but at least you didn’t have to respond like how your teacher did.

“Slow doesn’t mean boring, though. But the only way to play something really well when it’s fast, is to play it extremely well when it’s slow. You get the pacing of the notes down right when you play it slow, and then you can gradually speed up until you play it at full speed.”

She nodded.

“I’ll get you a metronome from the company and make you some drills so you can get better at rhythm too. As the bassist, rhythm is the thing that you and the drummer do and you have to do it well.”

“I want to do solos sometimes though.”

“And you will, but your rhythm needs to be on point for the rest of the song because, when you pick up the bass, that’s the job you give yourself.”

You tilted your head as you looked at her. She was doing a lot of nodding and quiet contemplation.

“So:” You said with a smile.

She looked up.

“Let’s go over that song again, and I’ll teach it to you.”

previous | main cast | masterlist | next

a/n: Do we like Yujin? Do you know what her name is from? 😏

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circle--of--confusion · 3 months

Text

The Cardinal and the Seamstress

The next chapter is here, folks! I had fun while writing this, hopefully you enjoy reading it.

Chapter Summary: It's the first fitting! We get a special visitor. The Clergy is also restless for news on the Ghost project. Sarah and Copia share a sweet moment towards the end.

I hope you enjoy! I have been listening to "The Walk Home" by Young the Giant while writing this. I feel like it's a fitting song for this story. Give it a listen! Either the studio version or the acoustic version is great.

Pairing: (dracopia) Cardinal Copia x OC

Warnings: suggestive dialogue

Words: 2.5k

Chapter 2 - Quite a Scene? Wasn't it?

Read on AO3

banner and dividers courtesy of: gothdaddyissues AND ghuleh-recs

The following two days after the Cardinal’s measurements were taken are spent sketching, cutting paper, and working on mockups for Copia’s new show wardrobe. After the pattern pieces are drawn, Sarah gets started on cutting the mockups. She’s tasked with sewing the pants while Amelia tackles the jacket. In a couple more days Copia will come back for another fitting. In the words of Amelia, these costumes need to be ‘perfect for even the Olde One’s taste.’ We’re going to be here a while; Sarah thinks to herself. There still hasn’t been word of the new Ghost frontman. Siblings whisper in the hallways and at meal times with each other on who they think the next man up will be.

All day Sarah toils away at the contoured seams of his pants. Since learning of Copia’s condition, her dreams have become infiltrated with the image of a sharp-toothed Cardinal Copia. He hasn’t been able to leave her mind, she finds herself drifting off at the machine from time to time. So many questions run through her head.

It can’t be a crush. I’ve barely spoken with him! Sarah tries to rationalize is all. I’m just… curious. Curious about the whole thing. How often do you meet a real, live, well not live, vampire? In her stupor she manages to get through the line of stitching without jamming her finger under the needle. The actual stitching, however. “Oh damn. Where did I put my seam ripper?”

She saw him in the hallways while walking back to the studio after lunch on the day before the first fitting. Their eyes met and they stopped to chat while in the middle of the hall.

“Good afternoon, Cardinal.” Sarah said.

“Good afternoon, sorella. I hope Sister Amelia hasn’t been working you too hard on the new suits?” Copia looks into her eyes sincerely.

“Oh, are you familiar with “The Gauntlet?” Cardinal?” She chuckles.

Copia’s eyebrows raise. “Ehe I haven’t ever heard it put in that.. particular way but I’ve heard that new assistants tend to be put through the ringer. “

“The ringer, the gauntlet, either way, I feel like I’m doing fine for now, ha!” She shifts her feet a couple times. “Only time will tell.” Subject change, now! “So Cardinal, I heard that you are uh… Uh.”

Copia’s eyes find someone in the distance. “Oh, I’m late for a meeting sorella. Mi dispiace.” He begins to walk past her but stops to turn around to look back at Sarah. “We should continue our talk, still? Sometime later.”

“Yes! That sounds great.” And with that, hes gone. Why am I being so weird?

The morning of the first fitting, Sarah wakes up with a bundle of anxiety in her stomach. She keeps dreaming of Copia. He’s invaded her thoughts in both the dreaming and waking world now. While Sarah is getting ready for the day, the only thing on her mind is hoping the pants she made don’t burst at the seams when Copia moves around. Amelia’s new concept is a very new and bold step forward. The door to the studio is already unlocked, Amelia the likely answer. Amelia looks up from the ironing board as Sarah walks in.

“Sarah! Are you excited? It’s the first fitting! I always get a bit giddy, like a kid on Christmas.” She sets down her iron to move the garment around. “Except, instead of unwrapping something, I get to wrap someone up!” She clasps her hands together and grins.

It’s infectious and Sarah smiles in return. Some of her anxieties melt away in genuine excitement. She’s right. Sarah always found joy in seeing the look on someone’s face when she would make something for them. It would feel so rewarding to see them strut around in the thing she made! It’s like the physical manifestation of caring about someone.

Copia is a couple minutes from reaching the sewing studio but his mind is elsewhere. He wonders when the rest of the clergy will find out about Copia and the Ghost project. Will the siblings approve? Papa Terzo was well loved, maybe too well loved, amongst the Siblings of Sin. Would they feel the same about Copia?

The fitting is under way, about 30 minutes in, when the old devil himself walks into the room.

“My sweet Sisters! Cardinale! How is everyone doing this morning!” Terzo asks. There is a chorus of ‘hello Papa’s back to him as he enters the room. “Oh! A new suit, Copia? Any special reason?” he asks.

Copia’s face jerks to Amelia and Sarah. A silent plea for help in his eyes.

“Papa,” Amelia starts. “Is there ever a reason? Change is… inevitable.”

Terzo notices Copia’s deer-in-headlights look and holds up his hands in mock surrender. “I kid! I know about the Cardinal and the Ghost project. It was my idea for the dramatic exit.” Terzo has a cheshire-like smile

The sounds of a collective sigh falls over the room.

“Oh, thank Lucifer for that!” Amelia turns to Copia. “Cardinal, please to put on the pants Sarah put together in your dressing room. It’s the last thing I need to see for the day.”

Copia nods and walks off to change. The sounds of the curtain swinging open then closed. A few minutes pass in silence then he calls from behind the curtain. “Sister… per favore, did you give me the wrong pants by any chance?”

Sarah’s head pops up and Amelia walks over to the changing area and goes to open the curtain. Copia fumbles in front of her to prevent it from revealing himself. “Copia! Cardinal! Let me-“

Copia is struggling in vain to keep his privacy. “Please pay no attention to the vampire behind the curtain!” He screams.

Sarah watches on in horror. Her hands cover her face.

Copia walks out from behind the curtain to see Amelia, Sarah and Papa Terzo staring at him. “I could zip them up but they are uh… a bit tight. I don’t think I’ll be able to wear underwear in these.”

Sathanas, you can see everything.

“Oh Sarah, you should be proud. The ritual attendees are going to eat him up!” Terzo turns to her. He strides over to Amelia and takes her hand. “Bella why couldn’t you have made anything like this for me for my shows? They are… inspired.” He waves his hand around.

Amelia rolls her eyes. “Oh please! We both wouldn’t have lasted 10 minutes into a fitting.” She walks forward to inspect the mockup but Terzo follows after her. “Copia, could you walk around and see how the pants feel on?”

Terzo scoffs. “Cara, I wouldn’t even need 10 minutes! It would take me less than 5 before I would’ve had you ripping them off me.” Terzo gives her an eyebrow wiggle.

“I’m trying to focus here, Terzo. Papa. And if you don’t stop right now, I will shove some scrap fabric into your mouth and tie you up with my tape measure! Then I might actually be able do my job.”

“Amore! Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Terzo smiles wide.

Sarah looks to the Cardinal with wide eyes, they both share a look across the room.

Amelia sighs at Terzo. “Oh, look what you’ve done. You’ve scared the children”

Copia turns around but is now facing the mirror, the mirror that is showing his reflection back. There’s more frantic turning and he eventually stops. Copia looks up in frustration. He breathes a silent “shit.”

“Mi dispiace. I will leave you now so you can get back to your hard” he looks at Copia. “work.” He looks back to Amelia.

After Papa leaves, Sarah breaks the silence with “The pants do look a bit tight.”

“You people are no fun!”

Amelia spends some time marking on the suit pieces while Copia models them. Half an hour later the suit pieces are back on their hangers with notes pinned to the fabric for the next mockup. Amelia assures Copia that she’ll add some ease to his pants. He leaves the studio and on the way back to his office he passes by a few siblings of sin who seem to have strange looks on their faces.

Sarah and Alex make their way to the dining hall for dinner. They’ve developed a good rhythm in the past week of finishing up their work and then going together for food at the end of the day; the both of them are exhausted by the whirlwind Amelia in the throes of a big project. They're midway into a conversation at their table when a couple siblings of sin rush up to them.

“Oh! Sister Hannah-?”

“Is it true?” a girl huffs. “The person who will take Papa’s place in the Ghost Project? It’s the Cardinal?”

Sarah’s eyes go wide. Alex’s head whips to the girl. “Where did you hear that?”

“Is it true? Sister Ashley heard it from brother Michael, who got a text from my girlfriend who was walking down the hall by the sewing department when she overheard Papa Terzo say something about Rituals and the Cardinal Copia was there with him!” Hannah rambles.

By now other siblings have caught on to the commotion and have hushed their conversations. All eyes are on Sarah and Alex. Some of them start asking questions of their own.

“Do you know?”

“You have to know since you were there, right?”

“Did Papa Terzo say the Cardinal would be the next Papa?”

“Aw! Terzo is so much sexier!”

Sarah snaps her head towards that last one. Her eyes scan the crowd and she spies the subject of their concerns slowly trying to make his way out of the hall by side-stepping slowly against the wall. A few turn and stand to follow her line of sight and now yell towards Copia. All Sarah can see is a flash of red fabric making a hurried exit down the halls.

A voice calls out to the clergy. “Everyone! Please settle down! Settle down!” It’s Papa Terzo’s voice. “You will all find out who the next leader of the Ghost project will be in due time. Have patience, per favore!” Papa’s words help some of the commotion die down and the siblings move to sit back at their tables. It’s a lot quieter in the dining hall but Sarah feels several dozen pairs of eyes looking towards her. The scraping sound of her chair pierces through the massive room as she stands to put up her dinner items and walk back to her room for the rest of the night. The sounds of her shoes against the tile echo painfully behind her.

Several hours have passed and Sarah can’t sleep. She’s been tossing and turning to no avail. Everyone knows who will be next to head the Ghost project. It may not have been official but who else could it be? Some are confused and some are hopeful. The Cardinal isn’t hated by any means but he never seemed like the type to lead a band.

Sarah sits up and grabs her robe. She put her shoes on and is out the door before she can even think of where to go. On instinct Sarah ends up in the ministry gardens. A beautiful sanctuary created by Papa Primo in his retirement. She’s visited a couple times during the daytime. Towering hedge walls, bushes, flower beds, and trees as far as the eye can see and soft glowing lights above and below to light the path at night. In the distance she can see a cloaked figure but they’re covered in the shadows.

“Oh, I’m sorry to disturb you!” Sarah lets out a soft laugh. The figure’s head moves to look at her and as she walks closer, she can see two distinctly miss-matched eyes looking at her. “Cardinal Copia? Is that… Is that you? I can leave.”

“No! Please, sit.” He makes some room for her on the small bench and pats the spot next to him. “I don’t mind if it’s you. I just needed some alone time and I couldn’t take one more minute in my room.”

Sarah sits down on the bench. “I’m sorry about today. If people were going to find out, it shouldn’t have come in that way...” She looks into his eyes.

“Papa is well-loved amongst the clergy. How else would anyone react?” He pats his hand on Sara’s hand in her lap. “Cara, I’ll be alright. This old bat can handle a few odd looks from the siblings.” he pleads. “Let’s not dwell too much about that right now; we mustn’t borrow trouble. What brings you to the garden so late into the night?”

She sighs. “I couldn’t sleep. I get these moods sometimes and after what happened with you today… I…”

Copia nods his head. “I don’t sleep very much, either.” Sarah turns to look up at him. “Vampire brain, I suppose. I tend not to sleep for very long every night.”

“What do you do with the extra hours?”

“I like to listen to music or uh… play video games.” He feels a bit embarrassed. “Sometimes I head to my office and start on the paperwork I left behind.”

“Sounds lonely.”

“I’m not alone right now.” Copia leans to bump shoulders with her. “What if I gave you my number and you can text me when you can’t sleep. We can be alone and restless together.”

She lets out a small gasp. Sarah turns to look at Copia. “You have a cellphone?”

“Cara if I didn’t adapt with the times I would be living in the dark ages.” Copia chuckles. “I know our ministry operates in an old building but if we didn’t have wi-fi and phones it would be torture to get anything done.

“Yes, well, it’s just a silly idea to me that a centuries old vampire would have a smartphone.” She giggles. “It’s like if you gave a Victorian child a Gameboy.”

“Hey, I’m hip as the kids might say, eh?” Sarah laughs a bit louder at that. “I’m pretty fly for an undead guy!”

Her shoulders are shaking from laughter. “If you say so, Cardinal.”

“Copia. Please, you don’t have to always address me as ‘Cardinal’, cara.”

“Ok… Copia.”

Copia stands up from the bench and turns to Sarah. “So, shall I walk you back to your room? It’s late and you still need to at least try to get some sleep.” He holds out his hand as Sarah stands up.

“Oh, I suppose.” She mimics. Copia gives her a small smirk as she grabs his hand. The two walk back to Sarah’s room hand-in-hand. Once they reach her door they stop in front of it.

“Well, this is where I take my leave, Sarah.” Copia raises her hand and gives a small kiss on the back it. “Have pleasant dreams, eh?”

Sarah’s cheeks turn pink and she gives a bashful smile to the Cardinal. A whispered “Thank you” manages to come out. She walks into her room and closes the door, glancing one last time to Copia.

After Copia gets back to his room, he changes into comfier clothes and lays down in his bed. Sleep is certainly going to evade him tonight. “Oh, my sweet Sarah. My dolcezza. What are you doing to me?”

Thus concludes chapter 2! I hope y'all enjoyed it. Let me know what you think! I think this story will be about 5 chapters so we're almost halfway there.

#cardinal copia x oc #cardinal copia fanfiction #ghost fic #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost #dracopia my beloved #the band ghost fanfiction #cardinal and the seamstress #personal #my fics #dracopia

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acknowledgetheabsurd · 3 months

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Thursday, 1:30 in the afternoon [February 16, 1950] I return from the radio - I had left this morning all lit up by the sky and the sun of Cabris. Your letter of Tuesday made me very happy and when I say that rain, fog and cold are no match for you I am not entirely wrong. Isn't it so? My poor darling! How you would feel exiled in the middle of the gray moors of Brittany! And yet how bright and warm the sun is there! And how you would love the sea there, changing, wild and furious! Yes, it was fine this morning. Last night, the solucamphre shot had its effect on my father's condition and he was a little calmer when I came home. I went to bed, exhausted after a long day of anxiety and nerves. I slept for nine hours. I woke up full of courage. It was grey outside, but when I left the François-I studio, the whole of Paris seemed to be glowing with spring. Alas! The news at home did not match the weather. The doctor had come - his worries are confirmed and this afternoon or tomorrow he must take another doctor with him, Professor [Gisoux] to consult.

I'm with Dad now. He is already delirious almost continuously and his fatigue is such that any small movement becomes impossible for him to carry out. That's where we are for the moment. When will we get the serum? You can imagine how much trouble I'm going to get from going to the Frenchman. But what do you want? I promised, and I promised to please Georges Leroy [sic]* whom I like. As for the choice, it was he himself who suggested to me to play the prayer of Esther, which annoys me, but which he finds that I say it well that he likes it. Personally, I don't care. This national scene freezes me to such an extent that I even think it is better to say an indifferent text there than any page that I care about. It's a chore in itself, but right now it's torture. I too often hear the music of The Third Man. For me, it represents your absence in the same way that La Vie en rose or [La Seine] represent you near me. I like the waltz better, too. I am leaving you, my darling. I will try this evening to add some words here. Forgive me for being a little distracted. See you later, my love.

6 o'clock in the afternoon Oh, how cruel the weather is! It is a bright day outside. Birds are singing on my balcony. A barrel organ in the street. I can't read, write or do anything. I walk from my father's room to mine like a shadow. For 1 hour and 30 minutes I have been trying to make him eat. I haven't managed to do it yet. He has just been given his shot. Maybe it will calm him down again and allow him to swallow something liquid. He hasn't been able to take anything since yesterday. Ah, what a misery!

Half past midnight When I got home I learned that Dad had tried to get up and take two steps in his room to - oh, never mind! The fact is that he fell and Juan and Angeles ran in, alerted by the noise, and found him in the middle of a pond of water on the ground, without a gesture or a word. They changed his pajamas and carried him to his bed. Now he is exhausted. I changed his sweaty knit and jacket again as he let himself be done like a doll. I am terribly impressed. May the day of tomorrow erase these hours gone by today. My darling, I love you. I would like to speak to you about happiness, and not to tell you all this horror, but I cannot be happy at this moment and I must always tell you everything so that you understand my condition and my letters. I love you with all my soul.

Friday morning 10:30 am I have just received your letter and I want to add a few words to mine before it leaves. Finally, my darling, how could you think lately that I had other ulterior motives than the one that told me something had happened between you and F[rancine]. Are you crazy? Don't you understand what I'm telling you between the lines? When I asked you to tell me everything, my love, just wanted to talk about the effect all these events had on your life. That's all. I didn't imagine anything else, and when I spoke of madness - now I can say it freely - I was thinking of what actually happened, which I learned today by your letter. Your plan to travel when you returned had confirmed my fears and the tone of your letters left me with almost no doubt. How could I have imagined anything else at that moment? Last night, even when I begged you here to love me - I afraid that the pain, the sorrow, the grief you are in will take you away from me. This is my only selfishness. Apart from that, I don't know what I would do for F[rancine]'s happiness, apart from the peace it might bring you.

My poor darling, what a life you must have! What days! Oh, can't you try to soften all this? Can't you erase and start again? I may be crazy, but I think I'm ready to bear anything to see you happy and that as long as I know you and see you near me, I am capable of any existence. Oh, my love, my poor love, my dear dear love! What to do? I love you. Calm yourself. Get some rest. I will write to you at length this afternoon. I kiss you with all my soul**.

Maria Casarès to Albert Camus, Correspondance, February 16, 1950 [#197]

* Maria Casarès is to take part in Georges Le Roy's farewell party at the Comédie-Française on February 17, 1950, during which she intends to recite the scene from Esther. ** Maria Casarès' father died on Friday, February 17, 1950.

#albert camus #camus #absurd #absurdism #maria casares #correspondance #love letters #love #sky #sun #rain #pain #sorrow #grief #death #father death #fathers death

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tonytylerdraws · 1 year

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August Artist Blog (more under the cut)

For August I tried to make a vlog, not only to document my month making art, but also my attempts to overhaul my approach to making and sell art. However, I’m not experienced at making vlogs, nor do I have a quiet, dedicated space to record voiceovers. But I did post a video of me doing marker work. We’ll get to that in a bit.

Introduction

First off, in case you’re new here, my name’s Antonio Tyler. I’m a webcomic creator and illustrator. I’ve been making art most my life, but started drawing comics in 2003 with my first webcomic, Synaptic Misfiring.

I drew variations of Synaptic Misfiring for a few years, got married, had kids, worked two jobs (because California). Over the last 5 years, though, I’ve been focusing more on illustration and selling products, though o want to get back into webcomics. I did a 3 episode Webtoon called Only Human, but I haven’t done a comic in a few years now.

Mobile Studio Setup

I don’t have a dedicated studio. I know a lot of artists do. But it’s not impossible to have a setup that is portable.

I use a 4th generation iPad Air with 64GB and a 2nd generation Apple Pencil. I use IbisPaint X, and use the paid version. I find it’s most ideal for making comics. And it’s constantly updated. New features are added all the time.

I have an assortment of tonal markers by Tombow, and a couple of Copics.

I always carry my iPad with me, so I can work on sketches or finished art whenever or wherever. You can access IbisPaint’s cloud storage via internet if needed, but it also stores files locally. It’s great being able to draw on a lunch break, a bus ride, or at the library. Occasionally I carry a sketchbook and pens with me if I intend to do traditional art.

Rethinking websites and storefronts

A couple months back I looked into doing a website on a number of platforms, such as Wix, Squarespace, etc. While a lot of them are pretty affordable, and have good options, I don’t really use my website much. It’s mostly a hub for all my other sites and profiles.

Tumblr, having been purchased by the Wordpress folks awhile back, is really pushing itself as a website alternative, with their templates (which they always have had) and having direct sales of web address. I’m in the process of updating AntonioTyler.com while also keeping the functionality of a Tumblr page. Tumblr is notorious less functional as a mobile site or app. So choosing the right template has been a challenge.

One thing is making a Linktree/Beacons/Milkshake-style link page instead of just a text based link page. Including links to all my different store fronts.

Updating my storefronts happens to be another thing on my to do list. I have several, and they are all decentralized. I use several: Ko-fi, Threadless, INPRNT and BigCartel. Originally I was going to use BigCartel for my sole storefront, but issues with getting Stripe to work dampened those plans. And BigCartel was mostly for my international customers, since it uses Printful products. But since there was a less than enthusiastic response, I will keep all my storefronts, but make them specialty shops. Threadless will have the bulk of my products, BigCartel will be a seasonal exclusive shop, INPRNT will be my…prints, and Ko-fi will be my digital shop (though I’m toying with the idea of carrying my Printful items here).

September plans

Working on some new Wand-Slinger merch for the seasonal shop. Threadless will be getting an overhaul. The website will be wrapped up and relaunched.

#August blog #long post #blog #art blog #artists on tumblr #tonytylerdraws #2023 blog #studio blog

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the12thnightproject · 1 year

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Chapter 36: Time Warped…. Sasuke has a plan to save Shingen, but it involves Katsuko taking a dangerous risk.

Shingen x OC; Kenshin x MC (Mai)

Previous Chapter: Here

Logline - Disguised as a boy, Katsuko finds herself working for Shingen, but her dangerous masquerade becomes difficult to sustain when she falls for the man with a fatal secret.

“Have you come with me because you want to check out these artisans, or because Shingen asked you to keep me out of trouble?” I sent a challenging look toward Yoshimoto as we approached a studio belonging to Tokuro, a wood artist who had been recommended to us. I’d been on the hunt for another burr puzzle, hoping to find something to distract Shingen into taking breaks from his work. Eventually, I asked Yoshimoto where he had found the first one, and he’d offered to help me search.

“Do you think I do everything Shingen asks of me?” Yoshimoto gestured for me to precede him into a home-studio that smelled pleasantly of sawdust and lacquer.

“Oh, I am well aware that you don’t.” It had been a point of complaint from Shingen during the tactical lessons. “I’m also well aware that you did not answer my question.”

“You’re sounding more and more like a spymaster. And possibly an interrogator.” He bowed to Tokuro who responded with an even more reverent bow. Yoshimoto’s reputation as a patron of arts preceded him. “To answer that question – I am, as you must know by now, always interested in art and antiques… but it may also be true that my cousin requested I accompany you.”

Oooh, I was so going to have to have another talk with Shingen. “It’s not like I haven’t already spent the better part of a week looking for a puzzle on my own.”

“That will be our secret.” Yoshimoto turned to Tokuro, introduced me, then wandered off to examine some carved screens, while I explained to the artist what I was looking for.

Hopefully, he had some already in his shop. I could always commission one, but since I wanted a puzzle sooner rather than later, I was hoping to find one that was already completed.

Tokuro frowned for a moment as I tried to explain what burr puzzle looked like, then led me to a display of boxes with an inlay lid. “I do not have a puzzle of that sort, though the concept is intriguing. But will something like this serve instead?”

A box? It took me a moment before I realized these were puzzle boxes. It had been a long time since I had seen one, but when I was a child, one of my schoolmates brought one to class, and we’d all had fun trying to decipher the sequence needed to open it. No, it wasn’t what I had been looking for, but in fact, might even be better. “This is beautiful… and it’s perfect.”

I immediately paid, which was a good thing, as Yoshimoto tried to buy it out from under me. He threatened to outbid me, until I pointed out that he could commission one for himself, and as such, would be able to take part in the design. “I’m certain that Tokuro can execute anything you can envision.”

My suggestion was successful, and I left Yoshimoto and Tokuro to hammer out the details of the commission. Perhaps I should have felt guilty at so easily escaping my so-called bodyguard, but Sasuke, who had been off on a mission for Kenshin for days, was due back, and I wanted to talk to him about time travel without Yoshimoto as an audience.

Once I had picked up the traditional order of pastry for Shingen, I laid in wait for Sasuke near the castle gates. Luckily for my fraying patience (seriously, why did Kenshin always send Sasuke on a mission right when I needed to talk to him?), it wasn’t very long before I spotted my friend rounding the path from the stables.

“How was your latest errand?” I asked him. Errand was his universal catch-all for whatever mission Kenshin sent him on.

“Apparently less eventful than it was here.” He gestured to the fading bruise under my eye. “I’m half convinced Kenshin sent me on a snipe hunt to punish me for planning to leave.” He glanced at the few packages I was carrying. “Pastry run?”

“Among other things. So, I take it you gave notice to Kenshin…and it didn’t go well?” I couldn’t imagine that Kenshin would be happy to lose Sasuke. Though he wasn’t as possessive of Sasuke as he was with Mai, I knew Kenshin would be upset to see Sasuke go.

“I phrased it as a leave of absence – but, no. It did not go well. He stabbed me here…. And here… and here.” He pointed to his chest… his arm… his thigh. “And here… five times… as I tried to escape.” He half turned and patted his own butt. “And then…”

“Hulk smash?”

Sasuke gave me one of his half-smiles. “It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who recasts everyone here into the Marvel Universe, Hawkeye.”

“Back at ya, Spidey.” After nearly seven years of ruthlessly eliminating modern idioms from my vocabulary (at Aki’s, any use of what Fume called my ‘peasant dialect’ had earned me extra floor scrubbing duties), it was nice to finally have a kindred spirit around. “So, um, I was thinking… and, maybe this is a completely radical idea… but would it be possible for us to take Shingen through the wormhole to get treatment for his illness?”

Originally, I had thought Sasuke could take Shingen with him, but over the week, I’d refined my plan. Shingen might be more easily convinced if I were to make the trip as well, and I’d realized there was a way I could use the records of the future to help locate Toshiie.

“Us?” He stopped walking and gave me a long look. “Yes, it’s possible … you would put your search for your brother on hold to do this?”

It was less that I would put the search on hold – instead I would be switching tactics. Shingen had been teaching me that sometimes a second or third plan was better than the first. His lecture style involved posing a situation and requesting at least four potential strategies – and then pointing out everything that could go wrong with those strategies. “It’s been almost seven years. At this point, I’m wondering if going forward in time would allow me to research shipping records that would make it easier to focus my search. I would start with the ports closest to the Togakushi shrine to figure out what ships were docked around that time, where they went after that and where they could be in 1582 and 1583.”

“Huh. That isn’t a bad plan. But... there’s still another issue. I’m not certain that you’d be able to…” He began drawing something invisible in the air and talking about multiverses, Hilbert space, and infinite dimensions.

I waved my hand in front of his face. “Sasuke, I’m from the future, but you lost me once you started spouting equations at me.” He didn’t move. “Shoot, I didn’t just accidentally pretend erase anything important, did I?”

“No, it’s fine.” He shook his head. “Well, it’s all theoretical until Thor agrees to make the trip anyway. Do you mind me tagging along back to his room? Unless, you two didn’t have any *ahem* plans?”

“My only plans are to figure out how to prevent him from working too hard.” It would be nice if we could *ahem* but so far, our nighttime activities had been more or less limited to actual sleep. Well, Shingen slept, crashing into slumber easily and deeply. I was as insomniac as ever, waking up multiple times in the night, although at least having Shingen to snuggle up against made being awake a less anxious state.

As I had feared, Shingen was still sitting in front of his desk, with his reports and messages organized into neat piles. He looked up and smiled as I slid the door open. “I come bearing gifts, a ninja, and,” I gestured to Yuki, who we had run into en route. “This guy.”

“Always happy to see, as you phrased it, ‘this guy.’” As Yuki respectfully bowed to his lord, Shingen reached over and messed up his hair. “And Sasuke, it’s gratifying to see you’re in one piece. The last time I saw you, you were running past my door, with Kenshin in close pursuit.”

With another wince, Sasuke rubbed his backside again.

“Come here, Devil. I need sustenance.” He gave me a quick kiss, then grabbed the pastry basket and immediately rummaged inside.

“I hope this isn’t your first break.” He didn’t look as overtired as he had on the first day he’d returned to work, but there were still deep circles under his eyes.

“And you’d better be eating… real food, not just sweets,” Yuki added as he set a kettle of water heating for tea.

“He did eat his breakfast, I made sure of it.” Hopefully Yuki wouldn’t ask for details, as my methods were unorthodox and rated M.

Shingen waved at us. “I’m sitting right here, is it necessary to discuss my meal habits in third person?” Yuki and I exchanged a shrug. Over the week, we’d become fellow soldiers in the war to get Shingen healthy. With a sigh, Shingen said, “I repeat. You two are a terrible influence on each other.”

Without prompting, Sasuke inserted himself in between us, as if to prevent further influence. The action was spoiled when he said, “They’re not wrong.”

These two. My brothers from another mother.

Once the tea was ready, and the sweets were distributed to all who wanted them, we all made ourselves comfortable. As soon as I was within reach, Shingen wrapped his arm around me. “Why do I have the feeling this isn’t merely a social visit?” He took the messages I’d brought and stuck them into a pile. I noticed that he had one message segregated from the others – he generally did that when it pertained to something urgent.

I looked at Sasuke. Sasuke looked at me. Neither of us wanted to start. Shingen looked at both of us, then gestured to me. “Out with it.”

“Ok. So Sasuke said the wormhole to the future is going to o-open soon.” I eyed Sasuke with a ‘go on’ look.

Shingen’s arm tightened around me. “Is this a prelude to an announcement that you’ve decided to go back after all?”

He hadn’t bothered to hide the dismay in his voice, so I hurried on. “Oh. No. Or, sort of maybe? If you will come with us?”

Yuki choked on his tea. “What??!” (Sasuke and I hadn’t had a chance to tell him our plan).

While Sasuke helped a sputtering Yukimura clear his windpipe of hot tea, I turned to Shingen, and put a hand on his chest. “We think it’s possible that the doctors of our time can cure you.”

He was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, he sounded resigned. “Is that a guarantee? Or simply a chance? I’ve consulted many healers over the years and been subjected to more than my share of medicines – some of which made me sicker than the illness itself.”

“I don’t know. I’m not a doctor.” Sasuke pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “But it is true that many diseases from this time are curable in modern Japan.”

“But not every one,” Shingen said, having picked up on the subtext.

“No.” If he had lung cancer, then there wouldn’t be a cure. But I wasn’t going to dwell on the possibility of failure. I took hold of his hands. “But it’s a better chance than you would have if you stayed here.”

“I don’t get this whole time travel thing, but if Sasuke is an example of the kind of people who live in modern Japan, then their doctors probably can do all kinds of miracle type shit. You should do it.” Then belatedly Yuki bowed again, and added a “My lord,” for emphasis.

Shingen spoke slowly, as if he had accepted the initial premise and had moved on to determining the execution of the plan. Good. “So the three of us would travel to the future, I would see your era’s healers, then at some point, we’d return here?”

“Yes,” I said, at the same time that Sasuke said, “No.”

“Wait, what?” I whipped my head around to look at Sasuke.

He cleared his throat. “Well, that would be the ideal scenario… I hope that is what would happen – but… there are other scenarios with a nonzero chance of probability. Allow me to demonstrate.” He stood up and pulled all manner of ninja tools out of his clothing, to the extent that I wondered if he was secreting a mini-wormhole in his kimono, until he found several cords. He indicated the lantern on Shingen’s desk. “May I borrow?”

Shingen made a go-ahead gesture. Sasuke put the lantern in the middle of the floor. “This is where, or rather, when we are. It’s a fixed point in time and space.” He tied a cord to the base of the lantern. “Katsu, can you hold this here?” He indicated a spot about two thirds of the way along the cord.

I got up and held the cord. This was Bill Nye realness in action.

“Seven years ago, Katsu and her brother travelled here through a wormhole at the Togakushi shrine, ending up here.” Sasuke pointed to the lantern, then walked along the path of the cord, past me, and picked up the cord at the end. Now he and I and the lantern were lined up along a straight path.

“Then seven years after that, Mai and I travelled through a wormhole at Honno-ji. The problem is, I don’t know for certain if I came from here,” he gestured to where he was standing. “Or,” He let go of the cord, returned to the center point, and tied another cord to the lantern. He walked that out to the other side of the room. “If we came from here… um, Yuki can you pretend to be me?”

Yuki threw something invisible on the floor. When none of us reacted, he said, “ground spikes.”

“That’s not how you throw them.” Sasuke sighed. “Its all in the wrist-“

“Boys!” Shingen tapped his fingers on his desk.

Yuki grabbed the end of the other cord. His cord and my cord had created about a thirty-degree angle from the lantern.

Next, Sasuke tied a third cord to the lantern and walked it to Shingen. “This is a random future. In one multiverse theory, there would be an infinite number of these, because every decision can create a split in the timeline. That’s why it’s theoretically possible that Kastuko came from that line, while I came from the one Yuki is holding.”

He returned to stand by the lantern. “All timelines can lead back to this point, because any current moment in time exists before a split. But once we all arrived here, we could even have created more splits.” He gestured to the cord Shingen held.

“Now, say the three of us tried to go from here to the future. Which future, though?” He pointed at each cord in turn. “Shingen, because you are from this fixed point, you ought to be able to travel any of these potential futures. But say, you and I and Katsuko began our journey at Honno-ji. You and I would probably end up there – the place where I came from.” He nodded to where Yuki was standing. “But what if there is already a Katsuko living in that timeline? I’m honestly not sure what would happen. Maybe it wouldn’t matter and for a short while there would be two Katsukos living in that timeline. But it’s also possible that in order to avoid a temporal paradox-”

“Could you at least try to use words the rest of us will understand?” That was Yuki.

Sasuke ignored him. “Katsuko might be sent back to her original timeline.” He waved at where I was standing. “Or the wormhole would prevent her from leaving here at all… or she could end up someplace else.” He gestured to Shingen’s cord. “Or, she might simply cease to exist.”

Shingen let go of the cord he was holding. “No. It’s too much of a risk.”

I looked at where I was standing – at the metaphorical version of Togakushi in my timeline, then over at Sasuke. “And if the three of us tried to go through at Togakushi, if and when it will appear… you’d be facing the same risks?”

Sasuke nodded.

“Well, then the solution is for me to stay here, and you and Shingen to go.” Sasuke had the most experience with time travel, and from what little I’d gleaned about his life in modern Japan, a fair amount of financial resources. While I didn’t want to separate from Shingen, I trusted Sasuke’s risk estimates.

“That was my interpretation as well,” Sasuke said.

Shingen picked up the cord and walked it back to Sasuke. Then he followed my cord from the lantern to where I stood. “Or, we wait for the Togakushi, er wormhole, then Katsuko and I will travel to her future.”

Did Shingen have that luxury? Though he was recovering from the acute illness, the underlying disease was still there.

“Wait? How long?” Yuki’s words echoed my thoughts. Shingen might not have that much time left.

“If my latest celestial observations are correct, three, maybe four months… I can’t be certain, because I’m less familiar with that wormhole.” Sasuke shrugged one shoulder.

“That puts it already in winter, in the mountains!” Yuki handed his cord to Shingen. “You know your illness is always worse when it gets cold. If a blizzard hit, would you even be able to get to the whole worm?”

“Wormhole,” Sasuke murmured.

I’d never tried to talk Shingen into anything like this, and I wasn’t sure how to start – but there was no way I was going to let him give up on his chance for treatment out of some misplaced worry for me. “I don’t want you to risk waiting because I can’t travel with you,” I said. For that matter, after being gone from modern Japan for seven years, I didn’t know how I would arrange for him to get treatment. Heck, I didn’t even have bus fare to get from the shrine to Nagano, let alone a way to get the additional four hundred kilometers to Kyoto. I imagined that Sasuke, with his University affiliation, probably had better access to treatment.

“I have plans for the next four months. For starters, you and I are going to Ikuno.” Shingen picked up the report he had set aside and handed it to me. “Read this.”

Ikuno? Where was that? I tried to remember if I had ever been anywhere near it -it was in the south right? But… just read the report… I scanned it until the name Toshiie jumped out at me. It took a moment before the implications sunk in.

He found my brother.

Toshiie was alive and rather than being a prisoner or a reluctant sailor on a ship somewhere, he was living in the middle of the country. I stared up at Shingen. “You found him! How?”

“You told me he was interested in medicine, so it occurred to me that if he had managed to escape the ship, he might have continued his medical studies and moved inland. Yoshimoto made several copies of that portrait, and I put my mitsumono on the lookout. He’s alive.” He put his hands on my shoulders, then kissed my forehead. “We can start our journey there within the week. I will see you reunited with your brother.”

When I had told Shingen that Toshiie wanted to be a doctor, it had been before Iekane had enacted his scheme. Before our fight. Before the flood. Before the cave. Shingen had found him for “Katsu.” I was floored by his kindness to a person who basically had only been his mailman. He might be the kindest person I knew.

He smiled down at me - something inside me cracked and released a swirl of emotions… gratitude… affection… fear… happiness. It was a tidal wave carrying the realization that… I … loved him. I probably had loved him for weeks, but I’d purposefully avoided examining my feelings too closely. At the last moment, I bit off the words before I said it out loud. Not now. Not in front of an audience. Not … before I was sure that he would even welcome the words.

Overwhelmed, I buried my face in his chest, knowing that he would attribute my speechlessness to gratitude.

He ran his fingers through my hair. “I don’t want you to – at best – lose your chance at reuniting with your brother because of me, or, at worst, disappear completely.”

“I… I…” I don’t want you to die. I stepped out of his arms. “Now that I know where Toshiie is, I can wait. I don’t want you to lose what potentially could be your only chance at a cure because of me.”

“I think this is what the Americans call a Mexican stand-off,” Sasuke commented. When the only reaction was Yukimura’s inevitable eyeroll, he added, “Come on, Yuki, let’s let them discuss it.”

“Ok,” Yuki said. “But if I get a vote, I vote you go back with Sasuke. Katsuko isn’t a normal girl. She can take care of herself for a couple of months.”

“Thank you, Yuki.” I was getting more used to his non-compliment compliments.

He looked like he wanted to say more, but Sasuke yanked him out of the room.

“I can-“ was as far as I got before Shingen put his hand over my mouth.

“I know you can… clearly we’re not going to come to an agreement on this right now.” He glanced at the other parcels I had brought with me. “We can discuss this later. Will you make more tea?” He was doing that distraction thing again, but the note of finality in his voice told me that it was useless to argue at that moment. I would have to plan out how to convince him I was right.

@bestbryn

#TBT12Lies #throwback thursday #twelve lies i told shingen takeda #ikemen sengoku #fanfiction #shingen takeda #ikesen shingen #ikesen sasuke #ikesen yukimura #ikesen yoshimoto

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imfearlessfics · 2 years

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Chapter 5: The Antagonist

Song: Into the I-LAND by I-LAND, A Song Written Easily by ONEUS, Blueprint by Stray Kids

Pairing: Yunjin x female reader

Genre: Romance, forbidden love

Warnings: mild language

Word count: 2.5k

It’s been a few weeks, and I’m really starting to feel like I’ve settled in. There’re still some boxes strewn about my room, and I haven’t quite gotten the subway system down, but I have a routine. I wake up around 5AM, get ready, and head to the subway where I proceed to look hopelessly at the train schedule until I find my stop, then arrive at work almost two hours early. (I refuse to arrive late and risk the wrath of President Hwang. As kind as she is, she didn’t make it to where she is without cracking the whip here and there, so sitting in the cafe while I practice my Korean and look over my schedule for the day makes the early ass mornings worth it.) Then after my morning status meeting, I shadow other employees. All. Freaking. Day. Long.

I get that I’m new here, and I totally understand wanting to ensure I comprehend the processes and inner workings of one of the biggest companies in the world, but for the love of GOODNESS I want to get some actual work done! What is the point of a status meeting when my status is always “still learning the ropes and prohibited from creating content on my own”?! I shouldn’t complain too much, though. It is a huge company, literally and figuratively, so having this much time to learn the ins and outs has been helpful. I shadow someone new everyday - that’s how many employees work here! Sometimes it’s the studio engineers and sometimes it’s the baristas at the cafe. I never have a predictable day, that’s for sure.

Last week, however, I finally started shadowing the actual department I was hired for: the marketing team. I can tell you this for free; They don’t mess around. The way that they approach styling to comebacks to tours is meticulous. Every little thing down to the polish on the idols’ nails has a reason and a story, and I’m slowly realizing just how huge my role is in all of this. The TikToks that I’ll be making in the coming weeks will be the first glimpse into their new comeback, and we’re hoping to keep elevating LE SSERAFIM on a global scale. It’s been extremely hush hush, but today, the comeback content meetings begin, and free time will cease to exist. I’m booked from morning til night every day for weeks, and that’s just getting all the ducks in a row. The teasers won’t drop for another couple of months, I’m told.

I haven’t been able to see the girls too much since my schedule is mostly just getting to know the company, but I pass them every once in a while when I’m shadowing. They always greet me happily, like we’ve already become the best of friends, and it makes each day a little brighter. And while I love seeing all of them, there’s one in particular that makes my workday exponentially better.

Ever since that day in the practice room, there is a tiny flutter in my heart that beats to the sound of her laughter. My cheeks flush at the sight of her smile, and my hands tremble whenever she waves at me, and I … I can’t believe how sappy I sound right now!

Y/n, get it together! Some crush on an idol you literally work for is only gonna distract you!

But in between the meetings and the shadowing and the constant hustle and bustle, I can feel myself cringing at the word “crush”. Just a couple of hours around her and there’s now a constant pull to want to be near her. The desire to feel just as carefree and happy and fearless as I did in that room. Because for the rest of the day, I couldn’t stop stealing glances at her and wanting my jokes to be funny just to see her chuckle, but feeling acutely aware of a pair of eyes tracking my every move. I would’ve been paranoid about it, but I was having too much fun with them, so I wrote it off as me just imagining things.

I have the marketing meeting in a few minutes, so I pack up my breakfast and head to the conference room. As I’m settling in, one of my coworkers, Lee Ha-Rin, enters the room. And how do I know that she entered the room? Because she made a spectacle about it - loudly talking about her absolutely wild weekend, laughing at a joke that from what I could understand was not even that funny, and making sure to bat her eyes at just about every male employee in the room.

I am a woman that supports women, and I never want to speak poorly about another woman for being unapologetically herself, but from the moment I met Ha-Rin, she’s made it abundantly clear that she looks down on me for being a foreigner with such little experience.

“Oh my goodness hi! You must be the new girl - y/n, was it? I’m Ha-Rin, the leader of Le Sserafim’s marketing team for this comeback. You must be so overwhelmed! I’m sure that nothing you’ve ever done until now has been quite on this scale, right? Don’t worry - I’ll help you every step of the way” I don’t think it occurred to her the entire time she spoke that I didn’t get a word in, but she just continued to speak at me rather than with me, and I have never gotten good vibes from people that do that.

“It’s kind of crazy that you even landed this position! I wasn’t yet assigned to be the leader of this project, or I may have tried to find someone with a little more experience, but that’s what we’re here for, I guess! To walk you through the processes.” She had a smile on her face the entire time, but the tone in her voice was unmistakable, and the sting from her words has been lying just beneath the surface ever since.

She gets to the front of the room and begins her presentation on the schedule for the next couple of weeks, and I can see on the calendar something that fills me with equal parts dread and excitement - my name! Next to the words “Content Meeting”! I get to run my very first meeting in … in four days? Hold on, how is that possible? I haven’t even officially begun working with the members yet, and I have to lead an entire meeting on potential content ideas? Contrary to some people’s beliefs, TikTok is not just some “social media app” - it’s a science. It is the number one way that artists are discovered, it has over a billion monthly users, and it’s used daily in over 150 countries across the globe. Knowing how to use this app correctly to build communities and fan bases is … well it’s a pretty valuable skill! One that took me years to hone in and develop. Just creating a posting schedule is extremely specific and time consuming, so you can imagine how tirelessly one would have to work to also create the content itself. And Ha-Rin has given me four days to do both! How can this be fair? She sees the look on my face and, to my delight, decides to comment on it in front of the entire room.

“Y/n? Is something wrong?” She makes a fake show of looking back at the screen with concern on her face, “Oh…is this too much for you? Should I push the meeting back for you?”

“Not at all. It’s just that I haven’t even worked with the members one-on-one yet, so I am concerned about organizing a meeting without having the proper information yet.” I don’t know how I manage to keep composure in the midst of the panic brewing inside me, but I continue with only a slight tremor in my voice, “I am happy to spearhead the meeting, but I’m afraid it will be unrealistic to expect a comprehensive schedule for 2 weeks of content without proper interaction with the members.” Damn, I sound smart.

The slightest twitch in Ha-Rin’s eye tells me I struck a nerve by advocating for myself in front of all our coworkers, but she can’t show that she’s shaken. “Well, as luck would have it, you’re actually scheduled to shadow them for a few hours everyday starting today. Will that be enough time, y/n?”

She and I both know that it isn’t, but unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of say. I’m the newest addition to this team, and while I don’t like how she openly condescended me for it, she’s not exactly wrong about me not having experience working with this level of stardom. At the end of the day, I’ll get this done because I have to, and that might be a good way to prove my value to the team. I’m gonna have to spend a lot of time with the members, though, and … wait. That’s actually the best possible thing I could have hoped for! Okay, pity party over.

“Yes. That should be plenty of time. I will need to spend the next few days exclusively shadowing them, though, so I hope some adjustments can be made to my schedule to accommodate for that. Will that be possible?” Fear seems to make me impervious to death glares, which is exactly what Ha-Rin is shooting me right now. I would care more, but this is my job, and moreover, this is their comeback. Nothing can be rushed, and even Ha-Rin has to respect that. With a smile so tight I fear her face will snap in two, she just nods and continues with her presentation.

As we all pack up to get on with the day, she stops me just before I can escape. “Y/n, can you hang back for just a moment?” Crap on a cracker - I knew blind bravery was gonna bite me in the ass.

“What can I help you with?”

“Just want to make sure we are on the same page about your upcoming content creation for the group. You know, it is very important that you don’t have any biases. You must plan in accordance to the guidelines we give you, not according to your own personal preferences. Does that make sense?” There’s still a few stragglers, so the show she’s putting on right now could win her a damn Oscar for “Genuine and Kind (but actually cunning and conniving) Boss”. Though, I am not sure what she’s playing at right now. I’ve barely spent more than a few hours with them, what is she even talking about?

“Biases? I’m not sure what I have done to indicate that I’m … playing favorites. Unless you’ve been seeing something I’m not aware of?.” The tension is palpable, and I’m pretty sure some of my coworkers are procrastinating just to see this go down.

“Oh no, nothing crazy. I mean, if I had seen anything out of the ordinary, say longing stares or lingering touches with one particular member, I would certainly bring it to your attention. You’d know the repercussions of such actions, right?”

The silence that follows is suffocating - there is no way I have been that obvious. No. I might look Yunjin’s way when she’s around, but I couldn’t have been so conspicuous as to catch anyone’s attention. Even I’m not that dumb. Unless…shit. I knew I had felt someone watching me the last few weeks. I had chalked it up to me being the new girl. Harmless curiosity! But if Ha-Rin has been out for me since day one? If she’s been purposely looking for a reason to cast me out? Then of course she’s picked up on my crush (read: ever growing infatuation and hopeless longing). I have to do damage control - and my job has barely even officially started!

“I’m not sure what exactly you’ve seen, but I am simply doing my best to develop rapport with the members and my coworkers. I only hope to treat each member fairly and within the guidelines of the company. I’m sure that is okay to do? Considering I’ll be spending so much time with them?”

She flashes that tight smile again, it’s like someone is pulling her cheeks back as she fights back. “Of course. We couldn’t be more thrilled to have such a … dedicated team member on board. We’ll talk later, y/n. You need to get to the members, yes?” She saunters out without another word, and I let out a shaky breath.

Gathering all my strength, I make my way to the practice rooms where I know the girls are practicing. I make sure not to walk in while they’re dancing, so I wait outside for a few moments to let the song finish. Of course, my eyes wander to one member the fastest. She’s glowing, and the confidence she emits puts me at ease a little. Her stage presence is magnetic, and I almost miss that the song has ended and I’m good to head in.

“Y/n! Hi! Oh my gosh is it finally time? We get to start working together?!” Sakura beams at me. The rest of the girls greet me with such enthusiasm, I decide to forget about my stare down with Ha-Rin. I’m not going to let her superiority complex ruin this opportunity.

“Hey everyone! Yeah, I guess this is my first official day with you! I’m not filming anything quite yet, but I’ll be taking some notes and getting reference shots. I won’t be in your way, I promise.”

“Don’t be silly, y/n, you could never be in our way,” says Yunjin, and I (internally) scream.

“What do you need from us, y/n?” says Chaewon. I get a glimpse of what a good leader she is. Her immediate reaction is to ensure everyone’s work can go smoothly, and I appreciate her attention to detail.

“So, I would love to take your group’s core concept as the inspiration for the content we put up in the next few months. Your message surrounds the concept of fearlessness and self-confidence, right? It’s that authenticity I want to capture. Rather than having all the videos be staged, I’d love to get candid shots of some behind the scenes work going into this comeback. Strip back any illusions of perfection and focus on your individual approaches to a comeback. What do you think?” I’ve actually been pretty excited about this idea. It took me a couple of weeks to flesh out how I would approach this without risking spoilers, but I think filming some of the highs and lows in a polaroid film style would not only be in line with their upcoming comeback concept, but also their identity as a whole.

“Y/n, that’s really good! I love it, and I think our Fear-nots will be thrilled,” Eunchae says.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to start! Plus I love that we won’t really have to memorize anything extra. We just get to be ourselves.” Kazuha seems particularly pleased, and I feel so proud.

“Just as I expected - y/n is a genius,” Yunjin winks at me. I beam back, and I make a mental note to wear a face mask any time I’m in the same room as this woman. If I blush any harder, I’ll glow. I get my notebook and phone out, “Alright - let’s get started.”

_____________________________________________________________

Y'all! I did not realize how long it had been since I last posted, but thank you SO MUCH to everyone who has liked the chapters! It makes me so happy!

I was sick for a while and then there were a lot of life changes going down, but I am back! I hope y'all like this - we have a new character and we may or may not hate her a little. What do y'all think?!

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likeadevils · 10 months

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Interlude

In between the 1989 timeline and the reputation timeline, I'd like to take a brief moment to chronicle all the things Taylor said about her plans (or lack thereof) for her next album in 2015 and early 2016.

February 3 & 4, 2015: Taylor is photographed at Catchlight Studios. I can not find any record of them producing any song for any artist ever and Google calls the a portrait studio, but the Mirror did call them a recording studio when Taylor was seen at it.

February 13, 2015: Taylor's interview with Vogue is published (likely conducted on January 14/15).

March 2, 2015: Taylor is photographed leaving a studio. (Note: I can not find a place that specifies if this is a recording studio, dance, photography, radio, or television studio).

May 20, 2015: Taylor's interview with Marie Claire is published (likely conducted two months beforehand).

Taylor is not even sure she'll have made another album by the time 2020 rolls around (Author's Note: Taylor nearly doubled her discography between 1989 and the end of 2020). "I'm not going to put out an album until I've made one that's better than this one and that's going to be really hard," she says. And how might her music evolve if she does find love? "If that does happen, I think I could find complexity in happiness," she says. "I don't think anything's ever simple. Just because you're happy in a relationship doesn't mean there aren't moments of confusion or frustration or loneliness or sadness. Hopefully, if I ever find some sort of meaningful relationship, I'll be able to still find inspiration, just through everyday ups and downs."

October 7, 2015: Taylor is photographed leaving a recording studio in New York.

November 13, 2015: Taylor's interview with Vogue Australia is published (likely conducted two months beforehand).

April 20, 2016: Taylor interview with Vogue is published (conducted in February).

#timeline*#this one's short and sweet yall

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reallca-blog · 1 year

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Unwrapping the Wonka Bar Vol. 1 - Where is Charlie’s Town Located? Part 5

If you haven’t read the previous post, click here for Part 4 to make sure you are caught up to speed. If you’re already read the previous posts, then welcome back and let’s get back to the show!

Exhibit #4: The National Origins of Background Items

The key to making a film seem believable is to litter the background with real-life items that the audience could find at a store or in their own homes, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is no exception. But with regards to this analysis, the national origins of these background items can also shed light into just where in the world Charlie's town is located. And so, let us look into just some of the items featured as background set design pieces and the history of their brands.

First up for analysis:

The Bucket Family's Teleton television.

One of the ways Charlie and the Buckets stay up to date on the Golden Ticket contest is by watching the news reports of the different winners on their Teleton television set. In line with their socio-economic status, the Bucket's sole television is incredibly small, out of date and beaten up after decades of wear and tear. But as it turns out Teleton is not a made up brand of televisions, like Smilex Toothpaste at which Mr. Bucket toils away at their factory screwing on the caps, but a real-world television brand. Some research on the internet reveals that the history of the Teleton brand begins in 1964 when Teleton Electro Ltd. was registered in the United Kingdom as a company specializing "in the import and distribution of hi-fi products in Europe." However, by 1970, the Japanese electronics giant Mitsubishi acquired half of Teleton Electro Ltd., which had been its official distributor into West Germany up until that point. As part of the acquisition, Teleton Electro Ltd. simplified its name to Teleton and began selling Japanese products under this new name all throughout Europe. Additionally, Mitsubishi claims its acquisition of Teleton Electro Ltd. resulted in them controlling "about 50% of the UK's television market and aims to introduce color" television to the UK as well. In short, it appears that the Bucket's Teleton television is a piece of British history commemorating the country's connection to the Japanese economic miracle of the latter half of the 20th century that saw the Asian nation become a powerhouse in high-tech manufacturing.

The magazines at Bill the Shopkeeper's shop

Of the many items littering Bill the Shopkeeper's shop in order to make it look like any run-of-the-mill corner store in an urban area, all the magazines available for purchase pop out as significant. Since many of the magazines are not focused on by the camera, it is difficult to decipher the identity of all of the magazines available for purchase. Yet, I was able to uncover the names of many of the magazines geared towards those with niche interests, such as gardening, classic cars, trains and other hobbies.

Garden Answers Magazine

This magazine can be found both inside and outside of Bill the Shopkeeper’s shop and after conducting some research into the magazine, I found out that the magazine is published in the UK by Bauer Consumer Media Ltd., but unfortunately I was unable to find a copy of the same issue featured in the film, so I chose one that also featured a catchy tagline based around a type of flower.

Practical Classics

Just like the previous magazine, Practical Classics is another magazine published in the UK by Bauer Consumer Media Ltd., but unlike the other, I was actually able to track down an image of the same issue used in the film. According to my research, it was the October 2004 issue, which lines up with the timeline for when the film was being filmed at Pinewood Studios in the UK.

Rail Magazine

A simple Google search revealed that Rail Magazine is “Britain’s No. 1 Modern Rail Magazine” as the copy I used for the example markets itself as, adding another UK-originating item to our list.

Steam Railway

Once again, we come face to face with another magazine of UK origin being sold in Bill the Shopkeeper's shop. Additionally, following an extensive dive into the history of this magazine, I can confirm that the issue being sold at the time Charlie wins his Golden Ticket is Steam Railway Issue #299 which was published on July 16th, 2004, around the same time as the Practical Classics magazine issue I was able to uncover was released as well.

BirdWatching and Golf World

Once again, UK-based magazines shows up at Bill the Shopkeeper’s shop, with BirdWatching being another publication of Bauer Consumer Media Ltd. and Golf World apparently ceasing physical publication in 2014 following commercial shifts to digital content and marking the magazine as another victim of the death of print media.

Your Horse

And for the final magazine on this list, Your Horse is a, you guessed it, UK magazine which markets itself as “Britain’s best-selling equestrian monthly.” And I was once again able to track down the exact issue on display in the film, with this one being Your Horse Issue # 259, published between July and August 2004, once again lining up with when the previous two magazines I was able to find a copy of online were also published.

The Times Newspaper

And now, before we move on from Bill the Shopkeeper’s shop, I want to go over this final item being sold. The Times is one the UK’s oldest daily newspapers, publishing its first issue in 1785, and is thus a staple in the British media market. The inclusion of a copy of this London-based newspaper stands out since even though the film features many different newspapers, such as the Evening Bulletin, The Morning Chronicle and others, all of those other examples are completely fictional and thus cannot be pinned to a real-world location, unlike The Times.

Now, for a shift in our analysis, let’s move from items at Bill the Shopkeeper’s shop and onto items found elsewhere in town such as:

Mail Drop Boxes in Charlie’s town

In a shift from what we’ve been seeing for the last few examples, the blue oblong-shaped mail drop boxes shown in Charlie’s town are not British at all, but clearly inspired by United States Postal Service Drop Boxes. However, the logo on the drop box is not that of the USPS’ iconic bald eagle, but a generic envelope that appears to be traveling at rapid speed. Additionally, the logo heavily features the color red, which the USPS logo does not, and something more like the UK’s equivalent, the Royal Mail.

$10 Bank Note

When it comes to creating the illusion of a location with “both an American sensibility and a British sensibility” as Tim Burton desired for this film, one of the cleverest ways the crew went about doing this is through the use of fake currency. The $10 bank note that Charlie finds on the corner of First Street that he uses to purchase the Wonka Bar containing his Golden Ticket looks near identical to a US Dollar $10 bill, however on closer inspection it becomes clear that this prop is not an American Dollar as the bank note features a coat of arms on the left side with what appears to be some sort of deer and a lion flanking a shield that is reminiscent of the Royal Coat of Arms of the United Kingdom and many coat of arms of previous British colonies. Also, the opposite side features a quote in Latin from the Roman-era Egyptian poet Claudius Claudianus which translates to “Whoever desires is always poor,” something which, let’s face it, is a take on the pursuit of money too clear-eyed to be from an American.

LYPC gumball machine

And finally, the gumball machines that a young Willy Wonka buys gumballs from during his rebellious phase where he indulges in all the candies he could get his hands on is clearly a LYPC brand gumball machine, an American company based out of the Chicago area. However, upon further research, I discovered that the LYPC website states the company started in 1993, well before the filming of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory began in our universe, but nearly two decades after 1975 when the item first chronologically appeared in the film. This is to say that we actually do not know whether the LYPC company in the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory universe is American, British or something else entirely as the history of the LYPC company is not the same in both universes.

That is all for the items being analyzed as part of this inquiry, but before moving on, one final observation should be stated. The items in this list can be classified into two categories; private goods, or items that are or can be one’s property, and public goods, items that are sponsored by the government so that everyone can use them. In short, all of the private goods in Charlie’s town are clearly of British origin, except for the LYPC gumball machine and even then we cannot confirm that the version of the LYPC company that exists in the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory universe isn’t actually British, whereas it is the public goods, like the mail boxes that are American-ish. And by American-ish I mean that while the items are clearly inspired by those found in the United States, they are also slightly different from the original inspiration.

That’s it for Part 5, click here for Part 6 when we analyze the fictional news station that appears the most throughout the film and what the range of its coverage tells us about where Charlie’s town is located.

Also, if you have better quality images of the scenes from the film I included in this post, feel free to share them with me so that I may replace the ones I used to improve the experience for the reader.

#unwrapping the wonka bar #Charlie and the chocolate factory #charlie and the chocolate factory 2005 #unwrappingthewonkabar #charlieandthechocolatefactory #catcf #catcf 2005

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jcmarchi · 6 months

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No Rest For The Wicked Developer Moon Studios On Why Remote Development Is Key To Its Success

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/no-rest-for-the-wicked-developer-moon-studios-on-why-remote-development-is-key-to-its-success/

No Rest For The Wicked Developer Moon Studios On Why Remote Development Is Key To Its Success

No Rest for the Wicked is the upcoming action RPG from Moon Studios, the developer behind Ori and the Blind Forest/Will of the Wisps. It’s also the game gracing the latest cover of Game Informer. Cover story writer and editor Marcus Stewart and I traveled to Vienna, Austria, to play the game and speak with two of its leads, tech and production director and studio co-founder Gennadiy Korol and studio CEO and creative director Thomas Mahler.

However, while the frosted glass of the front door of the two-story apartment we entered was engraved with the words “Moon Studios”, this studio is actually just Mahler’s workplace. Korol met us in Vienna for the cover story, but he actually lives in Israel. The rest of Moon Studios lives around the world, because Moon Studios is completely remote – there is no headquarters to report to or central location to work.

Mahler (left) and Korol (right) explain why Moon Studios is a remote studio

While remote development has become more popular as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic, Moon Studios has been remote since its founding in 2009. When I asked Korol and Mahler about remote development, it’s clear it’s a big part of the team’s winning game development formula, responsible for the aforementioned Ori games and the upcoming No Rest for the Wicked, which launches into Early Access on PC next month.

“We absolutely 100 percent believe it allows us to hire the best talent,” Mahler tells me. “I think for us, it was a little bit easier because we never knew anything else. We started as a remote studio. I do think it’s much harder if you’re at an established studio and you have established, proven processes that are all based on being in the office, and then now, suddenly, the world stops and you have to work remote but these processes […] you’re reliant on […] you have to be in the office for.

“I think that’s a really difficult change to make. That’s like changing the DNA of a studio, but we never had to do that.”

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Mahler says he wouldn’t be in game development if not for the internet and, subsequently, remote work. He lives in Austria, and “there’s almost no [games industry] here.” But because of remote work, he was able to work at studios around the world. “I think that’s just amazing, right? That you can find all these people who are just amazingly talented, no matter where they live in the world, and if they’re super hungry, if they’re really passionate, if they’re willing to throw themselves in, then they can get a job in the games industry.”

He says studios that believe you have to work in the office for good work simply haven’t adapted yet. He hopes Moon Studios’ resume of games speaks to the idea that great products can come from remote studios. “I get this question a lot: ‘How did you make it look so coherent?’,” he says. “The workflow is exactly the same: people play the project, they play the build, they’re in touch with one another all the time. I don’t necessarily know why we need to sit in an open office space to achieve that.”

Korol, who attributes their belief in remote work to meeting Mahler on an online forum in 2004 before creating Moon Studios together in 2009, agrees.

“Some people blame certain things that don’t go right when people are working remotely on the fact that it’s remote work,” he says. “But I think it has to be a bit more nuanced. If you’re just trying to force a remote culture on top of the office approach, which is how a lot of these companies are structured, it’s not going to work. You have to kind of re-envision how the communication works, how the documentation works, how the work flow works, and what the big focus point is. I personally believe that remote work actually puts the emphasis on the product and the work even more than office work.”

Korol admits the team does miss out on the opportunity for water cooler moments, which he says can be fantastic moments, but Moon Studios does try to replicate them with streams, meet-ups, and more.

Korol points to a lack of commute, giving employees back more of their time, and the ability to be with family more easily as key factors for Moon Studios’ remote success.

“There’s no commute, so you don’t have to worry about wasting time,” he tells me. “Especially with people with families. We find it works really well for them because they can be with their kids. We’ve heard all these stories of people that say, ‘Oh, I had to ship this game, and I didn’t see my kid growing up, and I missed that precious period where I will never have that again, and my kid will never be that age again and it’s gone, and I was just so busy with work.’ But if you work remotely from home, you can still be there for your family and do great work.

“You can pace yourself much better, and you can take care of your mental health much better, so I’m a huge believer in [remote work.]”

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Ultimately, Korol and Mahler, Moon Studios’ two leads, believe remote work is the most efficient process. Studios that aren’t remote are missing out on great talent for their games, they say.

“We believe it’s really ultimately the most efficient process if you do it right, if you hire for that, if you optimize all communication for that,” Korol adds. “And like with everything else, you also have to iterate. So if things go wrong, your first reaction shouldn’t be, ‘Oh, let’s bring everybody back to the office.’ The reaction should be, ‘Well, why isn’t it working? Can we fine-tune it? Can we tinker with it a little bit more?’ And I feel like maybe some people are jumping the gun a little bit too fast and are missing out on some opportunities with great talent.”

No Rest for the Wicked hits Early Access on PC next month on April 18.

While waiting for its launch, check out this feature breaking down the Early Access roadmap and endgame content of No Rest for the Wicked, and then check out more than 25 minutes of the game in our No Rest for the Wicked New Gameplay Today.

You can learn even more about No Rest for the Wicked by checking out our features and videos rolling out over the coming weeks in our exclusive coverage hub below.

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