#I love figuring out the tiny details in TV shows/other media that I used to watch constantly

[twilight-resonance]

On Film, TV, and My Favorites

Let's do visual - specifically film - media. Not a super interesting topic, but it's been one I've bouncing around a bit as my aunt (who works in a related industry) has been trying to figure out what I like. It's hard to express, I suspect because it's multi-faceted and complex; but I'll try, and I'll probably give some examples to illustrate.

The first thing, I think, is that I like things that are well-made. Or, as a friend put it, well-crafted. I like shows and movies where it's very clear that each part of the design and the writing and the acting - costuming, sets, music, lighting, camerawork, script, etc - were designed very much with the whole in mind, and designed to support each other to create that collective vision above all else. I like things that have clearly had a lot of design thought put into them. Examples that come to mind are things like The Irishman, Wheel of Time, and Reservation Dogs - and, for older movies, the Lord of the Rings Trilogy (Peter Jackson's make) especially.. That much I tried to express to my aunt; based on what she's shown me since, I think I have to correct that as being distinct from looking nice. Crisp camerawork and aesthetics and everything is... nice, I suppose, but ultimately superficial. I want something with depth and thoroughness, not something that glistens.

There's a secondary, related thought, which is... authenticity or spirit. The other niggling little thing in a lot of the "well done" things I come across is that they're polished and perfected to the point of, well, joylessness. Sure, they're "well-done" - but meant to appeal to a broad audience, and lose a lot of depth and direction in doing so; and they're so technically perfect in form and pacing that it ceases to feel lived-in in a way that's unappealing. Wednesday is a good example of this, as is The Diplomat. The Ballad of Buster Scruggs almost had this problem, but managed to avoid it - it has the technical perfection that starts to feel like sliding off of things, but it makes up for it when it comes to "what it's actually about" - which I think is the more important piece to me of the two.

Obviously, I also like very heady intellectual pieces that are making a point or have deeper underlying themes - I'm not as much a fan of light fluff or even light crunch. I'll watch it, but I really like things that make me think or that stir my imagination in some way. As above, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, Reservation Dogs, The Good Place, and The Irishman fall into this category; as do The Grand Budapest Hotel, The West Wing, and Babylon 5 (for some slightly older examples). That tends to lean me against comedy and romance both as genres, although Death of Stalin I thought was excellent as an exception to that.

Sidenote, I don't like documentaries. I've found that most documentaries are basically one person's opinion and narrative that they're presenting, not an accurate accounting of a given situation or story. I grew tired of them very quickly once I realized that. There are occasional exceptions - all the Planet Earth works are lauded for a reason - but for the most part, I find documentaries to be pseudo-intellectual rather than actually informative.

So I suppose that brings us to genre. Fantasy is of course my greatest love, when it's done well; but it's not a popular genre - not high fantasy, anyway - and when it's done, it's often not done a very good job on, mostly because I think it gets seen as a kids' genre more often than not. Sci-Fi is... okay as a substitute for that, although I'm not as much into tech. What I really like is stories that transport you into another world, and that do so as much by showing as they do by telling - that have lots of tiny sensory details that really build the scale and lived-in-ness of that space and world. Babylon 5 and Lord of the Rings are both places where this shines in a more fantastical way; but so do The West Wing and Reservation Dogs, which are both decidedly more grounded in earth and in current events.

So that all covers function. Form is also important to me, especially as someone who does a lot of story-writing professionally and has a sense of how these things work in all their guts and parts. You'll notice that a lot of the examples above are generally from the last ten years; those are very much the exceptions to the rule. Most of what I like tends to be from a fairly specific period in film and TV history, for reasons as follows:

Firstly: when it comes to specifically TV, I tend to prefer shows from times where seasons came in batches of 20+ episodes. This has to do with the lived-in aspect of things: rather than having to focus hard-core on cramming as much story into what's being shown as efficiently as you can, there's room for the story - and the characters, and the worlds they inhabit - to breathe, and I find that that breathing room benefits them. Specifically, I find that it allows the actors and writers and others more room to play - with concepts, premises, "what-ifs", and silly ideas they had - and in doing so, infuses the end product with a great deal more love and care and also a greater depth of understanding going on from the creation end. Play is how you learn what works and what doesn't, and I would much rather have a handful of bizarre flop episodes that we pretend don't exist than the sort of soulless perfection that comes from pieces that have been workshopped and streamlined to death.

Secondly: again, when it comes to TV, I tend to prefer pieces from that narrow window of time in the late 80s-early 2000s when shows were undergoing a transition from monster-of-the-week style episodes - wherein nothing about the premise could change permanently from week to week, and the story would have to reset to baseline after every episode so that people who missed episodes didn't get lost - and serial shows, wherein there's a strong throughline of story and sequence. I like the narrative structure, and I particularly like the narrative structure over long periods of time; but once again, with room to play and really flesh out not only the world but all the details of the narrative and bring it more to life. All of my favorite shows - Deep Space 9, Babylon 5, The West Wing - are from this era.

Thirdly - and this one applies to both film and TV - I also tend to prefer pieces from a particular time of transition between eras of film technology and acting methods. As acting goes, for most of film history, acting techniques have largely been borrowed from stage; because that was the available art to draw from, and where actors' experience lay. The earliest pieces are far too stage, to the point where they don't suit the medium; but as time went on and people tried various techniques, there was a very blended style that emerged that I enjoy. Again, I feel like the 80s and 90s were the sweet spot on this one, but that's personal preference. From a technology standpoint, camerawork was much more limited by existing technology until - I think - the mid-2000s; this includes things like color and clarity, things like the ability for the camera itself to take moving shots through a scene and remain stable, etc. Because of technology limitations - and, again, where existed to pull techniques from - a lot of film also ended up imitating theater in terms of set design, scene blocking, and so on. I enjoy the period of time, once again, in transition; wherein film and TV had solidly established how to make that sort of stage element work best on film, and were starting to push the boundaries of what they could do. TV remained so for longer than film, in large part due to the way that sets need to be kept around for repeating locations in TV; but I liked that.

I probably don't need to say that I don't appreciate the heavy use of greenscreen and CGI as a substitute for going to physical filming locations and using makeup and other practical effects; but that's neither here nor there, and that's not an unpopular opinion. CGI should be used to supplement and deepen - not wholly replace.

So, what are my favorites?

Star Trek: Deep Space 9 If I had to pick a favorite TV show, this would be it. The characters feel very real and lifelike in the ways that they grow and change, and the universe much more grounded and less utopian than most of Star Trek; and I love the complexities with which they explore things like religion in ways that are traditionally sort of frowned-up in a Sci-Fi setting (as well as they way they handle culture with nuance, which is more what Sci-Fi is classically for). The story is well-written with actual stakes, and with its high and low moments both feeling earned within the context of the whole thing. I'm not a huge fan of its last season and its ending, I suppose, but everything up til there is golden. I would say... that most of Star Trek idealism is easy and meant to be portrayed as such; but Deep Space 9 is about holding onto your ideals even when it's hard, and that is meaningful to me.

Babylon 5 Babylon 5 has many of the same traits as Deep Space 9 (and, to be fair, at the time there was a lot of drama on that count between the two shows). It's a very different, much less idealized setting than DS9; but with just as much depth and character. This one also has excellent character growth and narrative design - knowing how this one was written with all its "escape-hatches", I'm always eternally impressed. This one also has hope and light in darkness as one of its through-threads, and of course that's my big theme that I always gravitate back towards. It's definitely a bit dated, especially as special effects go; but I love it nonetheless just for how good the writing and the theming is.

The West Wing As stated above, I love this one for how it simulates the environment of executive branch politics; obviously it's still a fantasy, but as an avid watcher of C-SPAN (yes, I know) I feel like it does a much more grounded, nuanced, interesting job of it than anything else out there. I also enjoy that it has a strong education orientation - explaining to audiences how certain parts of government work, and what needs to happen in order for certain decisions to get made, and what parts of the constitution are etc - and does so in a way that's thoughtful and not condescending. I never connected with the characters quite as much in this one - though I did enjoy both Jed and Leo - and it doesn't have quite the same kind of narrative storyline as the ones above; but it was also well-written and well-researched, and I enjoyed it a lot.

Outer Range This is the only recent piece that makes it onto my list. In truth, it's not a particularly remarkable show - well-done, but not remarkable - but I had to put this one on here because it resonates so heavily with me. Despite being set in, like, modern-day rural Wyoming, it is I think the most Fal shit I have ever watched. Someone was operating on the same brainwaves as me when they wrote this, and I'm sure as hell not going to turn that down. ...Whoever wrote this also has a background in Classics, I think, particularly Greek mythology and theater. There's the obvious references, of course - but there's so many subtle nods to ancient greek stories, and much structural stuff about the narrative that's pulled from the structure of Greek theater and myth, that it cannot be in any way a coincidence. I do also enjoy that intersecting of reality and myth, which... Well... shows up in the first two heavily as well, and is probably one of my other big themes.

Priscilla: Queen of the Desert This one is definitely the odd child out. I didn't mention it above, but I do also like character dramas with a lot of nuance and depth; and this one does it for me on that count (so does The Big Chill). When it comes to that type of story, the theme that I tend to gravitate towards is outcasts and people who do not fit for one reason or another; and oh man, is this ever that. I also like the queer element, of course; and it strikes me as made with a lot of love, and a lot of honesty; and that honesty being its own kind of love.

Lord of the Rings If I had to pick favorite movies, this trilogy would be it. The craftsmanship on these movies was insane; and it was clearly made with so much love and care for what Lord of the Rings was actually about and what it meant, from every single person and department involved. It is tender and heartfelt in a way that is almost taboo in stories right now; and also so very much along that light in the darkness theme that I'm perpetually on. They picked great actors for every role, they did an amazing job on the sets and special effects and filming techniques, and while of course the adaptation leaves something to be desired, all adaptations do.

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So those are my takes, and my favorites. All that said, I think I'll take this and copy it over to its own post and then put that post in the queue; and try again with something a little less pop-culture oriented, because that's a bit more where I'm at spiritually at the moment.

[hawks-is-kinda-chicken-little]

Voicemail

Hawks X Reader

Summary: Commitment is sometimes scary, especially when Keigo already has so much on his plate. So instead of communicating that to his lover, he grows distant.

-part 1-

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

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One moment Keigo was flying through cloud nine and the next he was falling faster than ever.

(Y/n) was the first one to break his walls. See the broken man through the believable facade portrayed by the media. She loved him, the real him, not the picture perfect model on the tv young boys and girls dream about and idolize. All his flaws and scars never repealed her for even a moment, she loved him unconditionally. She was the first to do so, the first to show him that he didn’t have to be perfect.

Keigo remembers when she shattered those barriers. Oh, how he cried. It was only a week until their one year anniversary. But, this was the first time (y/n) had seen him all battered and beaten from a fight earlier. No feathers on his back, nasty gashes on his face and arms, Hawks might as well have been fresh out of a human sized shredder. Really, he should have gone to the hospital, but he figured he could just handle the damage himself. He remembers being frozen in place when his eyes landed on her after just walking into their shared apartment. She should have been asleep already, yet there she was standing in the dim lighted hallway with the worry shining in those doe eyes of hers. Her cheeks were puffy and her eyes were red as if she had been crying moments ago. Quickly, she scurried over to him scanning over his torn form. From there gently but quickly guided him to the bathroom where they kept the medical supplies.

He was sitting on a stool near the bathroom sink as (y/n) sat right next to him with her legs folded on the floor. The silence was deafening, no questions were asked. Hawks quietly watched her shaking hands delicately wrap one of the bandages around his wounded arm. Making sure the fabric was not to tight, but not too lose that it would come undone. Sighing, he reached the hand she previously wrapped and cupped her cheek, rubbing his ever so gently under her eye, causing her to stop her actions and place her hand upon his own, closings her eyes. She lowered her head as her shoulders started shaking ever so slightly with every sniffle and hiccup that came from her. Hawks used his other hand guide her face towards his wiping away freshly dropping tear that cascaded down her puffy red cheeks. It was only a couple for minutes before she broke the silence.

“I saw it on the news,�� Her bottoms lip quivered more as she spoke.

“What did you see, my love?”

“Them hurt you,” She sobbed “It was all over the news, you were- you were thrown through the building and pummbled into the ground, the- then the power shut off and I did know if- I didn’t know-”

The poor thing couldn’t even finish the sentence, she was now curled over her knees sobbing into her hands in attempt to muffle her cries. Hawks was in shock, he knew she cared and worried for him, but apparently underestimated the extent at which it went. Never in his life has someone genuinely cried on his behalf, not even his so-called parents. This was the moment he broke down. This was the moment he knew she truly loved him and he truly loved her.

Shifting so that Keigo was now on the ground with her, he pulled her to his lap, rocking them both from side to side, as he burying his face in her hair. In this moment both of their hearts beat for each other and nothing could change that. He hadn’t even realized his own tears that were falling until she pulled back just alittle to stare into his eyes and wipe them away. There was nothing but love and care in those glazed over her eyes.

Hawks remembers sitting on the tile of the bathroom floor the rest of the night in eachothers embrace. No one in the rest of the world mattered, it was only them, both vulnerable to each other’s love.

She meant so much to him, she was like the feathers on his back, freeing and always there to lift him up. Everyone at the agency loved her, she was motherly to the interns and alway there to vent if someone needed to talk. She was a true blessing to all those around her. Time went on and there love only grew stronger.

Lately something had seemed off with Keigo, he was acting cold and distant, and not even he could pinpoint why. Maybe it was the stress of all the hero work piling up. Being the number Two Hero came with a lot of responsibility and a lot more work which he had to keep on top of. Keigo had been staying at the office later doing paperwork into the early hours of the morning for the past three days. And when he did return home (y/n) was always draped over the arm of the couch in her night time attire asleep. It was obvious that she was trying to wait up for him, but always seemed to fail. Shaking his head with a small smile at her silliness, he picked her up and brought her to bed. It wasn’t long before he joined her, but Hawks was always gone before she would wake up.

She would leave him encouraging texts and voicemails throughout the day, to which he never replied to. It seemed like they hadn’t even really had a real conversation in a couple of months. Every time she would try and reach out to her, he’d blow her off, avoiding any sort of confrontation. Keigo already has so much going through his head with all this league of villains stuff, the last thing he needs is another person giving him problems.

Today marked the 3 year anniversary of their relationship. It was a quiet day at the agency, so (y/n) came to visit. Of course a bunch of the women pulled her into the break area to gossip. They were all talking and giggling when he was walking by. Hawks stopped to listen at the door when one giggling in particular reached his ears making him smile. The ladies wanted juicy details about Hawks and his lover’s relationship. He couldn’t stop the smile creeping up his face hearing her stutter out haste responses obviously embarrassed by their questions.

A couple more questions were thrown around and he put his hand on the door getting ready to barge in and save his poor baby like the hero he was. Hawks was half way through the door when one of the ladies asked about marriage making him halt. All eyes were on him, but his eyes were on (y/n)’s as his smile slowly fell. He shifted his gaze to the ground as he backed out the door, the sound of a chair being pulled back followed by the hurried steps of his lover close behind him. Her hand reached out and grasped the hand in an attempt to make him stop, which was successful and he turned to look at her, his face void of emotion.

“They were only joking, you know,” She said, hoping to lighten the mood, but there was some sort of panic or desperation hidden in her voice, Hawks could hear it.

He didn’t say anything, he only stared at her with a straight face. By the grace of whatever higher ups there were, his work phone went off signaling an emergency.

She squeezed his hand “I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours, but know that I love you and I will listen if there anything you want to talk about when you come back, we can skip our dinner reservations and just chill at home if you want.”

“I can’t talk about this right now, ill see you at home,” He muttered, ripping his hand from her hold.

Keigo turned around, walking away from her, but not miss the shocked and pained look that spread over her face. As he walked towards his office, the employee’s mouths hung open in shock. With shame and guilt beginning to set in, Keigo quickened his pace to his destination, slamming the door behind him as he arrived. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips as his hands tugged at the untamed locks on his head. Pulling himself together, Keigo grabbed his gear and headed to the destination at which he was needed.

The mission was a breeze, but he didn’t return to the office, instead he opted to clear his mind soaring through the night time clouds. He flew out of the city bounds and landed on a tree that stood miles away, facing the glowing outline of the city. Hawks sat on one of the sturdier branches leaning against the thick core it sprouted from and closing his heavy eyes.

What was his issue? What had changed to make him act so harsh? God, (y/n) probably hates him now. Can’t say he would blame her though, he’s been nothing but a jerk to her these past couple of days. Damn, he was such an asshole at the office. Ignoring her, snapping at her, pushing her away when she had done nothing wrong.

But that’s not what she thought. These past days all she could do was pick her own mind over and over again. This has been going on for an entire month, nothing has been resolved, it only seems to be getting worse. She tried staying up and waiting till he got home to talk to him, but he was always home so late. (Y/n) tried calling, but that never got anywhere. It was alway go straight to voicemail. The same old:

“Heyyyyy, sorry I can’t answer at this moment. If its urgent or you have chicken that you can eat/ just want to give me chicken call my bussiness number at (***)***-****. Talk to ya later.”

She would alway leave a sweet and encouraging voicemail, sometime she would ask when he would be home, or if he maybe wanted to meet her for food or something.

So now here she sits at 1am, holding the tiny wrapped box she was going to give him for their anniversary while tears streamed down her face. Stuffed inside is a pregnancy test, they always joked about kids before this issue started. She found out about two weeks ago, deciding to wait to give it to him today, or yesterday, since she could never really get a hold of him lately.

She can’t do this much longer though, it was really starting to get to her, maybe it was the hormones talking, but it hurts nonetheless. No matter how she twisted it in her head she couldn’t understand where they went wrong. Setting the present on the counter, she walked to their shared bed room so she could grab a couple of necessities for the night. As of right now she was planning on crashing at a friends house who was already informed of (y/n)’s current predicament. Rumi Usagiyama always knew how to cheer her up.

After stuffing the duffle bag, (y/n) wrote a little note and left it at the edge of the night stand before grabbing the car keys and heading out the door. Making sure to turn off all the lights and lock the door on her way.

Unfortunately, in her rush she left the small box neatly wrapped bright colors and a golden bow resting forgotten on the counter.

It was hours till Keigo finally got the courage to head home to her for the night, or morning, as it was past 1 am. It felt cold inside, it felt empty. Keigo didn’t like it. Normally (y/n) kept the kitchen light on as she would always try and wait up for him when he came home.

The further he walked in the more he panicked, (y/n) wasn't passed out on the couch. Uneasiness settled deep in his gut as he started searching the apartment in a frenzy. Heading towards their bedroom, he froze at the door frame seeing, it was empty, she wasn’t there.

He started yelling out her name, desperate for some sort of response while he searched every room. Keigo checked his phone, nothing. He called her, no response. Maybe, she was somewhere outside. Yeah, (y/n) loved going on early morning walks.

While rushing back towards the front door, a shiny gold sparkle caught his eye. It stood out of place in the dark kitchen. The glittery glow illuminated from golden ribbons wrapped around a package all connecting to form a bow on the top.

Cautiously walking over to the counter he picked it up, immediately eyeing a tag that had flopped to the side. Two fingers grasped it, flipping it from one side to the other. On the opposite side was written ‘To: Keigo’ in the beautiful handwriting that could only belong to (y/n).

His heart sunk as guilt started eating away at him. Pulling the ends of the ribbons, he slowly unwrapped it, taking the lid off the small box. At first he was confused, inside was just a bunch of tissue paper and some kinda plastic stick. When Keigo saw the 2 bright red stripes going down one side, it clicked. It was a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test.

Keigo’s mind went blank as the world around him froze. Tears started racing down his now damp cheeks. God what has he done. After placing the stick back in the box and then shoving it in his coat pocket Keigo bolted to the closest window, phone in hand attempting to call her phone.

All calls went to voicemail. There was no sign of her anywhere. Keigo could feel his wings shake in panic and desperation. Two hours had gone by and there was nothing.

Where was his (y/n), where was his angel? The woman who put up with all his shit throughout the years. The woman who loved him unconditionally, even when she saw how truly broken of a man he was. The woman who worried for him, cared for him, healed him, knew him. The real him. The woman who was carrying their baby, the woman- the one he pushed away. The one who he ignored and made cry. The one he hurt.

He needed to find her, try to mend all his mistakes. Hell, beg on his knees for her to forgive him. Ask how he could make it up to her. Let him show her that he can be a better man for not only her, but their baby. Oh, god they were going to have a baby. Just the thought of the little chick, made his heart cry out of joy and love.

There was so much he had to say to her. So much time he wanted to make up for. He wanted, no, needed to hold her, encase her and their little chick away from the world in a cocoon of red feathers. But, first he had to find them.

Landing on the barren street he began searching on foot, choosing to call up a few other heros in hope that they had either seen her or would help search for her. No one had seen her, not even Rumi, her best friend, had heard from or seen her the whole day. The few heros that were awake in the early morning, including Endeavor and of course Rumi, went out to start looking for her.

Another hour went by and there was no news, at this point Rumi was using her phone to try and call her. As Rumi was calling, Keigo faintly heard the familiar tone of (y/n) ringtone.

It was faint, but if he followed its sound, it kept getting louder and louder, and almost seemed to be more distorted from its original sweet tone. He followed it right to the entrance of an alley. The ringing stopped signalling the reject of the call. Leading into the dark shadowy ally was a smeared red looking substance that glistened in the moonlight.

Rumi caught up to him, eyes following his gaze to the ground. She watched as her friend shakingly pulled his own phone from his pocket, calling (y/n). A lump formed in her throat as the ringtone of her best friend went off a couple feet before them as a light illuminated from the receiving device.

Neither of them could move as Endeavor came from behind them, witnessing the whole thing. Endeavor used his fire to create a light source, giving them a better view.

Before the heros was a blood splattered ground, all over the brick walls and objects on the ground. But there was not a source of where that blood might have come from. The reminisce of a duffle bag lay abandoned on the side next to a dumpster. It’s contents were scattered all around, ripped clothes and other items which blood splattered all over.

There was only one person who all there’s items belonged to. They all knew it. Especially Keigo.

He took a couple steps in stopping right before a bright screen in the center of it all. The device displayed warped images of the two of them on the shattered glass of the screen. Keigo could make out both of their faces, he was holding her on a bridge. Arms wrapped around each other, him kissing her blush covered cheek as she sweetly giggled.

Keigo fell to his knees in front of it. Rumi started wailing, yelling to (y/n) that this was not a joke, demanding she come out. Endeavor stepped to the side calling for backup and a forensic team.

Curling over his knees, Keigo started sobbing hysterically. His wings slumped to the ground shaking with every sob that racked through his body.

The phone kept ringing, as if it was mocking him. Ringing. Ringing. And ringing. Over and over again. Until it went on, until it stopped and caused his phone to go to voicemail. Her angelic voice came from his speake

“Sorry if I couldn’t answer right away, make sure to leave a message and i- hey! Keigo stop, no, Keig-,” “She obviously busy, if it is urgent call a hero or something,” “Keigo for God sake, give me my phone” “Leave a message or call later, i really don't care which,” “You dorky chicken leg, give it back!”

Then it cut out, ending the voice over. Her voice faded out, leaving his broken cries the only thing to be heard.

Keigo never moved, he sat there hurled over in the middle of the alleyway, wings splayed out over the ground.

Endeavor had to drag Keigo to his feet and haul him out of the way so that the investigators could get to work. He made Keigo sit on a bench by the front of the building next to the alley. A bunch of heros were trying to console Rumi through her mentally breakdown, as she cursed the world, threatening the worst to those who took her family.

Keigo stared back towards the ally littered with a team of investigators through blurry eyes. He felt his world come to an end. No damage he could or had taken amounted to his current pain. It squeezed at his chest and restricted his airways. He couldn’t control his muscles, everything ached from head to toe.

The one person who kept him from falling was stolen. Not even the wings on his back can keep him from falling into the cruel hell hole that is society.

Reaching into the coat pocket his coat pocket he pulled out the box, holding it in his lap. Tears once again spilling down his face. She was pregnant. They were going to have a baby. Someone took away his babies.

She always called Keigo her hero. She promised him that nothing would ever change that.

(Y/n) could be alive somewhere, the investigators came over and informed that there is no sign of a body, but a blood trail that leads to tire marks through one of the connecting alleyways.

Keigo is going to find her. He’s going to bring his babies home. Shower his angel in all the love she deserves. He’s going to fix everything.

Hands clutched the box in a tight grip as razor eyes narrowed at the alley. Keigo could feel his feathers sharpening from his state of anger. There was going to be Hell to pay. Blood to shed. Bones to break. May God have mercy on those who took (y/n), because Keigo will have none to give.

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Edit: I’m not sure if I should just leave it there or make a part 2 so let me know what all y’all think.

[starrybethany]

Maybe Someday - Matthew Tkachuk Imagine Part 2

Part 1

Word count: 3.4K

She steps up to the plate, nervously brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. She’s never nervous- she’s the most confident little girl I’ve ever met. The only time I’ve ever seen her anxious is on the field.

The pitcher throws the ball. It lands in the box on the side of the plate, Naomi standing still like she’s been taught when the throw is a ball. The tiny boy beside me grips my hand tighter and I squeeze it in response, not moving my eyes from my daughter.

The pitcher throws the ball again. I watch as Naomi swings the bat with sturdiness, hitting the ball and knocking it into left field.

“Run, Naomi,” Wyatt cheers like I’ve taught him to do. Her small legs carry her to first base, and she pants when she stops at the base. Her eyes slide over to meet mine and I shoot her a thumbs up.

She smiles. The game continues and soon enough she makes it back to home base, giving her team another point.

“You did so good, honey,” I pull her into a tight hug when the game is over. “I’m proud of you.”

“You tell me that all of the time, mommy.” I already know she’s blushing, so I pull out of the embrace, not wanting to embarrass her in front of all of her friends.

“Good job Mimi,” Wyatt pulls his sister into a hug and I fight back the squeal that wants to escape at their sibling love. She reluctantly hugs him back. I know that she just wants to appear cool in front of her friends, but I can also tell she wants to give all of the love in the world to her little brother at the same time.

“Why don’t you go talk to your friends, Naomi? I just need to talk to your coach about next week’s game and then we can go grab ice cream,” I request, picking up a tired Wyatt and pulling him into my arms. She nods, running off towards her friends as I walk over to her coach.

~

“So as you all know we’ve recently been hired to renovate Scotiabank Saddledome and we wanted to let everyone know that we decided to let Y/N take the lead on this project,” my boss, Andy, informs the office.

Everyone claps and I smile shyly at the response, my heart practically beating out of my chest. I’m not just worried because of all of this attention on me, but also because of what comes along with this project.

Along with making everything perfect for the owners, fans, players, employees, and sponsors that work at the arena, both by making the place look nice and pleasing to the eye and sure that the workers and plans are moving along smoothly, I need to worry about Matthew.

I haven’t talked to Matthew in eight years. The last time that I saw him was the time I left him at the café, whispers the only parting remarks to each other.

Throughout my six-year long relationship with Curtis, I didn’t think about Matt much. I thought about him in the beginning. I checked his game calendar a lot and snuck into the bathroom on date nights to watch games, but that slowly faded as I got more and more immersed by Curtis.

Then Naomi came and I gave her all of my love and attention. Wyatt followed a couple of years after that and along with the bliss of a new child, I suffered heartbreak as Curtis and I ended our relationship.

On my first night alone in several years all I could think about was Matthew. Curly hair, hazel eyes, crooked grin and all.

I follow the Flames on Instagram now and I always make sure to watch the clips of his goals.

But I’ve made sure to stay away from contacting him or getting involved in his private life. For all I know, he could have a wife and a kid by now.

Now I have to think about what will happen the first time I see him again in almost a decade. Will he have missed me, or will he be just as disgusted as he was the day that he left? Matthew was such a spontaneous person- except for when it came to watching TV shows, it was always The Office- so I’m unsure of what it will be. I need to hope for the best but prepare for the worst.

I zone back into the meeting, trying my best to focus as my boss shares some more information about this project and some other projects. Work comes second in my life, close behind my children, so I need to worry more about this project than I am about my old lover.

~

I drop Wyatt off at daycare, gripping the steering wheel of my car tighter than I usually do as I drive over to Scotiabank Saddledome. Today is my first day working on this project to renovate the arena so I should just be working with the owners and staff members, but I assume that I might run into some players seeing as it’s March and I saw on the schedule that they have a home game tonight.

I walk into the building, immediately noticing the woman who looks to be a little bit older than me standing in the lobby on her phone.

“Y/N?” She inquires when she sees me. I nod and she smiles, stretching out her hand. “I’m Kelsea Rochester, the owner of the Saddledome. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, thank you for the opportunity to renovate this amazing building,” I tell her, making sure to smile. Ever since I went on a big self-improvement kick after Matthew and I broke up, I’ve been careful to make sure I have good first impressions.

She explains what she wants done as we walk throughout the building and I write it down on my notebook, asking questions about what she would like or prefer more once in a while. We head down to the locker room area and my heart beats faster as I see a player in a Flames jersey.

“I’m sorry, practice just ended so we’ll be running into a bunch of sweaty hockey players,” she jokes.

I laugh at that but nervously look towards the locker room doors, unsure of who will walk out and recognize me. I know a few of the players Matt and I used to spend time with were traded, but some are still around and might recognize me. I don’t expect them to- it’s been a long time, but I kind of expect Matt to considering we used to spend practically every day together.

She details her plans to me more and I forget about my anxiety, visualizing her vision myself and suggesting what I think would look nice or work better for the arena. I love my job; interior design is something that I’ve always loved to do but not something I really considered doing until I was in school and setting up Naomi’s nursery.

“If you excuse me, I just have to run to the ladies’ room,” she informs me. I nod and she walks off, leaving me to look over my notes.

There’s a commotion by the locker room doors so I look up. All of the blood rushes through my veins and I stay frozen in place as I immediately recognize the figure making the ruckus. As usual, it’s Matt. He always had to be in the middle of something.

Like he could feel my eyes on him, he looks over in my direction. It brings me back to all of the times we would go to the bar or to a club together with a few of his teammates and their partners. He would stay at the bar top or table and talk and I would go onto the dance floor or play pool with the girls. Throughout the night we would make eye contact with each other, just to check in with one another. It was a little way to let the other know that we loved them.

He still hasn’t changed a bit. Curly, dirty blonde locks that I would attempt to brush, a toothy smile that lights up my world, and a laugh that would instantly be followed by my giggles.

He stops pushing one of the rookies, an expression of disbelief on his face as we maintain eye contact.

“Y/N,” he murmurs. The rookie stops pushing him back, and I can feel his eyes on me as well but all I can focus on is Matt. I don’t want to move my eyes from him. I don’t want to lose him again.

I smile shyly, still unconfident in his response to seeing me. “Hi, Matt.”

He takes a step closer to me, hesitantly, like he’s afraid of getting too close. I don’t know if it’s because of what I did to him years ago or if it’s because he’s feeling like I am, like he’s afraid this isn’t real and he’ll lose me again.

“What are you doing here?” He questions softly.

“I’m working as an interior designer now. I’m here to renovate this place,” I explain, motioning around us. He doesn’t move his eyes to take in what I’m explaining, instead keeping them on me.

“Your hair is short now,” he notes gently.

“Yeah, it’s, um, easier to manage.”

“It looks nice.”

I smile softly at him and he smiles back. Some wrinkles have formed around his eyes with age, and he looks bulkier and broader in person than he does in the photos on social media, but it’s just like the Matt that used to take me on dinner dates to Panera.

Kelsea appears by my side again. “I see you met our Flames captain, Matthew Tkachuk. Matt, this is Y/N, the interior designer. She’ll be around for probably the next year until the renovation is expected to end.”

“The next year,” he echoes.

“Yep, so you’ll be seeing a lot of me,” I state, gauging his reaction.

The wide grin that forms on his face gives me his answer that he’s more than okay with that.

~

“Mommy?” Her tiny voice pierces the silence of the dark room. I stop myself from closing the door, surprised that she’s still awake. I thought she fell asleep twenty minutes ago, that’s why I came in to tuck her in and turn off her sound machine.

“Yes, honey?” I inquire quietly.

“Did you know that the last time the Cubs won the World Series was in 2016?”

I chuckle at that. “I didn’t know that, thank you for letting me know.”

“That was like ten billion years ago!” She exclaims.

Well, it wasn’t that long ago. 2016 was also the year that Matthew was drafted. He would tell me stories about draft day, from what his dad said to him to looking at the responses on social media.

“It’s time to get to bed, Naomi.” I slip back into her room, turning the sound machine back on and soothing down my daughter’s messy hair. Her blue eyes blink up at me as she watches me. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, mama. I love you.”

My heart swells at her words and I lean down to kiss her forehead. “I love you too, munchkin.”

I head into Wyatt’s room next, hoping that he’s already asleep. Just my luck, he’s sitting up in bed, stuffed bunny in his hands as he tugs at the ears. When he notices me in the doorway he lays down and closes his eyes, pretending to be asleep.

I roll my eyes but can’t fight the smile growing on my face, stepping closer to his bed. “I know you’re awake, Wyatt.”

He opens his eyes and pouts up at me. “I can’t sleep here, mommy. I want to sleep with you in your bed.”

He reaches out, grasping my arm and holding on tightly. “Can you please try to sleep in your bed?”

“No,” he whines loudly. I shush him, afraid that if he whines too loud, he’ll prevent Naomi from sleeping in the next room over.

“Why don’t I lay with you for a bit,” I suggest.

“No, I wanna sleep in your bed,” he repeats, big tears starting to roll down his cheeks.

“Just for tonight, okay?” I say like I’ve been doing for the past two nights. I know he’s at the age where it’s vital for him to be in his own bed to help with his growth and separation anxiety, but I can’t help but to take him to my room sometimes.

It’s nice to have someone to cuddle with, and it’s my baby. Someday he won’t want to cuddle or spend time with me so I have to cherish the time I have with him now.

He nods and I carry him into my room, laying down on my bed and pulling him into an embrace. Naomi wasn’t big on snuggling when she was little and she still isn’t, so I take advantage of my one child who wants me to hold on tight to him as hard as I can.

And I’m going to do it, too. It definitely beats being alone.

~

Another weekend alone. Pretty soon into my relationship with Curtis and my journey to self-improvement my friends began to encourage me to cheat on Curtis as well. Something about how he was trying to change me, he didn’t really like me for me- I don’t know, I honestly don’t really care.

I cut them off after that. I haven’t really made a lot of friends since then. In college I was pregnant, and then taking care of my daughter, so I wasn’t really interested in spending time making friends. Now that I have a full-time job, if I’m not working I’m bonding with my children.

But then three years ago Curtis and I ended our relationship and now, every other weekend I’m alone, waiting for Sunday night to come so I can focus on my children again.

“Mommy!” The front door opens, and a tiny blonde comes storming into the house, barreling into my open arms.

“Hi honey, how was your weekend with daddy?” I inquire, kneeling down to her level to pull her into my hold better.

“It was fun, we went to the park and daddy pushed me and Wyatt on the swing set,” she gushes. “Then he took us out for ice cream!”

I can’t help but feel my heart tighten at her words. I love that the kids are getting to spend time with their father, but I miss them when they’re with their dad. I also can’t help but to think of the moments we would have as a family if Curtis and I hadn’t ended things.

I’m about to respond when Wyatt comes running through the door, joining our hug.

“Mom, dad told me that I can start taking hockey lessons,” he informs me excitedly.

I snap my head up to stare at a sheepish Curtis standing in the doorway, Wyatt’s backpack in one hand and Naomi’s backpack in the other.

“Did he now?” I ask. Wyatt nods enthusiastically, reaching over to leave a sloppy kiss on my cheek. “Why don’t you two go put your backpacks in your room.”

They nod and I watch as they grab their stuff from their father, rushing up the stairs towards their rooms.

“You told him that he could take hockey lessons? Without consulting me?” I question, taking a step closer to him and lowering my voice. I don’t want the kids to hear me yell, but I am furious on the inside.

“Come on, Y/N, he asked. What was I supposed to do, say no?” He responds.

I’m about to respond when he cuts me off. He always used to do that when we were dating, and it still angers me just as much as it does now. “Besides, Naomi plays baseball so it’s only fair for Wyatt to play hockey.”

“I agree that Wyatt should have an activity to do,” I start slowly, “But we agreed that things like this would be split 50/50 and I cannot afford to buy a bunch of expensive hockey equipment and spend money on lessons right now.”

He raises his eyebrows at me. “Really? With all of the money I give you in child support you can’t afford this?”

I narrow my eyes at him and open my mouth to rip him a new one when Wyatt comes running down the stairs, yelling about a new dinosaur toy that grandma got him. This conversation will have to wait for now.

~

“Thank you, Christopher, I’ll be over in about an hour with Kelsea to look over some options,” I inform the manufacturer, hanging up the phone and exiting the secluded corner that I found.

I head back over to the offices near the locker room where the construction will start. A few of the workers are already tearing up the old tile and dirty trim but I keep my eyes peeled for one worker in particular.

“Jeremy,” I call out when I see him.

The older man rises from the floor, brushing his hands off on his pants and giving me a wrinkly smile. “Hey, Y/N.”

“I need your advice,” I confess. When I first started working for this company Naomi was only a year old. I was a stressed-out mom who was fresh out of college and was unsure of how to balance mom life and work.

Jeremy took me under his wing, having a daughter himself who’s just a few years older than Naomi. Now I always go to him whenever I’m not sure I’m doing something right as a parent.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

I explain the situation of Wyatt refusing to sleep in his own bed to Jeremy shyly. I know he’s not judgmental, since he’s helped me through plenty of parenting situations, but it still makes me feel insecure that I can’t handle these things on my own.

“You just need to start telling him no,” Jeremy replies, like it’s that simple.

“But what if he yells? He might wake Naomi up,” I argue.

He shrugs. “Close both of their doors, turn up their sound machines, and let it be. He needs to start sleeping in his own bed now before he’s fifteen and still sleeping with you.”

I sigh, knowing he’s right. It wouldn’t be good for either of us to continue this arrangement. “Thanks for the advice, Jeremy.”

“No problem, Y/N. Hey, how did Naomi’s baseball game go last week?”

“Her team won! She got all the way to third base on one hit, I’m so proud of her.”

“That’s amazing! You’re a great mom.”

I smile at the compliment, watching him return to his work before I turn around, stopping dead in my spot as I see who’s behind me. Matthew is frozen, his face blank as he stares at me, his mouth agape slightly.

It’s clear he just heard what Jeremy said to me.

“You’re a mom?” He breathes out.

“Yes.”

“Naomi and Wyatt?” He inquires, repeating the names he overheard. I nod silently. “How old are they?”

“Naomi is six and Wyatt is three,” I answer.

“Six and three,” he repeats. I watch his eyes flicker to the wall in thought, clearly processing something in his brain. His eyes snap back to mine and he clears his throat. When he speaks again, it’s louder this time, more confident. “Naomi likes baseball?”

“Yeah. Her favorite team is the Chicago Cubs, actually,” I grin at that, letting out a little giggle as Matt wrinkles his nose at the sound of his favorite baseball team’s rival.

“And Wyatt, does he like baseball too?”

“Wyatt likes hockey,” I confess, watching as the hockey player’s face lights up in interest. “He wants to play, but since it’s so late in the season and everything he’ll just have to wait until next season to join a team and learn how to skate.”

“Well, I can teach him,” he offers.

“You would do that?” I ask quietly, sensing that this is much more than him wanting to teach a three-year-old how to skate.

“Of course I would,” he accepts, maintaining eye contact as he says the words.

I let out a small smile, watching as the corners of his lips peak up as well.

“Okay.”

[peachdoxie]

It’s always an experience to look back at myself as an adolescent and realize how much of my behavior was influenced by the fact that I am asexual and aromantic but didn’t yet know that.

In elementary school, I mostly wore t-shirts and pants of some sort. They were vaguely feminine, but not very much. To be honest, I don’t think I paid that much attention to what I wore in elementary school, though I was obviously influenced by external factors. But in the fifth grade (age 10-11) is I think when I started to actively reject femininity. It definitely happened once I started middle school (11-14). I opted more for a gender neutral look rather than a masculine look, though I didn’t think of it that way - just “not girly”. This trend followed me into high school (14-18), though around age 15 or so I got over my “not like other girls” mentality, which was never super strong but definitely present.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to dress more femininely. There were times when I wished I could wear a blouse instead of a t-shirt and get a hair cut or something. I didn’t want to be super feminine and wear makeup or jewelry or whatnot, but the t-shirt look is hard to pull off and still be seen as mature and have people take me seriously as I grew older. I actually enjoyed the chances to look rather feminine when the circumstances allowed it – namely, dances at high school (until I stopped going to them entirely) and prom.

The problem was that I didn’t like the attention I got whenever I made a change. If I wore a nicer shirt one day, people would comment on it. If I got a hair cut, people would comment on it. If I did anything out of the ordinary, people would comment on it. And save for social situations that were intended for fancier clothing, such as school dances, I did not like the attention. At all. It was mostly from teachers and other female friends who were genuinely nice about it, not even unwanted attention from boys or men. It didn’t help that I went to a small K-12 school, meaning I was with the same 100-odd classmates every year and regularly encountered my old teachers. There were no good transition moments to make any changes besides summer, and even then I didn’t.

I used to wear my hair in a ponytail all the time – initially just to keep it out of my face, but then because I did that constantly, any time I would wear it down on a normal day, someone would comment on it. It got to the point where I would keep it in the ponytail all the time. It was somewhere past my shoulder most of the time. One day when I was 15, during my regularly scheduled hair cut, I decided to cut off enough inches to donate the hair and my stylist straightened my hair for it. It was cut to a bit above my shoulders. I wore it down the next day at school and got a lot of compliments about it. It made me so uncomfortable that I put it back in a ponytail the next day.

(I eventually got so sick of the ponytail and the way it made me look too gender neutral that I forced myself to get it cut short enough that I couldn’t put it in a ponytail and I just dealt with the discomfort until my shorter hair was normalized.)

It did vex me, back then, why I didn’t like any attention that focused on how pretty I looked whenever I made some change to my physical appearance. I didn’t think that it was because I didn’t think I wasn’t pretty and that’s why I didn’t like the attention – I was fairly aware of how body image problems in teenagers worked, and to my recollection, that never played a big role in my dislike of attention. I knew I had good skin and pretty eyes and did think my face was pleasing when I looked in the mirror. And rejecting femininity a bit helped me find solace in not conforming to beauty standards. I also must give credit to my mother, who was nothing but supportive and never pressured me to perform femininity, and neither really did any of the other adult figures that had a significant influence on me, which certainly helped.

As an adult who has studied queer theory and feminist theory, and who has reflected on my experience as a young acearo woman, I’ve come to realize how much my sexual and romantic orientations impacted me in this regard. It resolves the paradox of wanting to be more feminine-presenting to look more mature while simultaneously dreading any attention I’d get for making a change towards femininity.

To a younger me, any attention to my appearance when I presented even a tiny bit femininely meant that it increased the chances that a boy might ask me out. Not hit on me, but ask me out. It was one of the interpersonal things I dreaded the most during high school. I did not want a boy to ask me out because I knew I would say no because I wasn’t interested in dating. I was desperately afraid of making things awkward between me and whoever it was, because the boys that were most likely to ask me out (in my mind) were the boys I was close friends with. In my mind, knowing that a friend of mine in high school had a crush on me was a terrifying prospect – knowing that I had rejected them while they were still “in love” with me. The influence of media was definitely there, as I’d seen way too many Disney Channel TV shows and movies where the guy was rejected by the girl and it made things awkward. I didn’t want to lose any of my friends that way. (I won’t go into details, but my reluctance to date anyone did end up backfiring on me and I did lose a friend, though that was largely due to my own awkwardness on not understanding why I was so reluctant to date anyone.)

The romance part would have been okay-ish, but at that point I didn’t yet have a split-attraction model to go on and so, to me, any act of dating would necessarily involve holding hands, cuddling, and kissing, and possibly sexual activity, all of which I knew as early as age 11 that I did not want. And because I was repulsed by the idea of physical and sexual intimacy, dating was out of the question. I knew it was okay to not want to date anyone and to not want to have sex with anyone, during high school or ever, because my mother had raised me to think those are valid options (thanks Mom), but at the time, I didn’t have a concept of what being sex-repulsed was.

I think that made it difficult and uncomfortable for me to process the idea that someone could be sexually attracted to me. I wasn’t so ignorant to believe that other people were also repulsed by sex and I knew other people enjoyed sex, especially teenagers. But the mere idea that someone could view me in a way related to sex – even if they didn’t want to act on it – was so unsettling to me that I couldn’t stand it. I don’t think it was about being seen as a sexual object by boys, since those were easy to turn down (and I did have a few male classmates ask me out), but rather seen as being sexually attractive to boys I already had a good friendship with.

Also, while I was aware of homosexuality from a young age and had no problems with it, there were no girls out as wlw while all of this was going on, so it didn’t occur to me to be wary of their attraction. I knew as well that I wasn’t interested in girls, so – because my framework was “straight or gay” without a concept of asexuality – by default I must be interested in boys, and them with me. There’s also the gendered stereotypes of girls sharing everything with their girl friends, but not sharing emotional intimacy with boys. But most of my good friends were boys, and so if I were to be emotionally intimate with any of them, I’d have to date them.

Of course, I lacked the knowledge and self-awareness to figure all of this out until much later, and it took longer to come to terms with the relationship I had between femininity, others’ sexual attraction, and my own self-image (though none of that is static, nor should it be). I also lacked the awareness that the boys I was friends with who might be interested in asking me out might also not be interested in a physical and sexual relationship. I didn’t have the concept that an emotionally intimate relationship in high school could be anything but physical or sexual. I think a lot of it came down to the fact that I didn’t know how to process any potential awkwardness, but I wasn’t fully aware of my inability to process it, so I just avoided it as much as I possibly could. Looking back, there were definitely some contradictions in how I thought and behaved, but hey, I was a young and socially awkward teenager navigating an uncharted territory that I didn’t know was uncharted.

Besides being fairly vocal to my friends about the fact I wasn’t interested in dating (which I explained away by saying “I don’t want to be distracted by dating during high school”, such a typical excuse of non-straight folk) the best weapon I had against people finding me attractive was to downplay my appearance. And so I desexualized my appearance – or, rather, maintained the neutral appearance I’d had from elementary school and made it even less attractive to boys (at least, in the opinion of my adolescent self.) Any act of femininity that was noticed by a teacher or female classmate was something that could be noticed by a boy in my high school, which meant that they may be inspired to ask me out, which meant sexual attraction, which was repulsive and uncomfortable to me.

I hold no ill will towards myself for not understanding this when I was a teenager, and I don’t blame any of the authority figures or educators in my life for not helping me understand this. It’s likely they didn’t understand any of this themselves, and it’s not like I was fully aware of why I felt certain ways and did certain things either, nor was I very open about all of this either because I can be a rather private person at times. It’s also not like asexuality, aromanticism, and sex-repulsion are well-known things, let alone discussed frequently in books about childrearing and queer adolescents. It’s just another sign of how the hyper focus on heterosexual monogamy (also known as amatonormativity) in Western culture and society actively hurts queer people, especially when they’re young and aren’t aware that they’re not straight, or are but are struggling to come to terms with that (it also applies to non-cis folk, but that’s not relevant to my experience.)

Ultimately, I see my struggles with gender presentation and interpersonal relationships, and the stress they caused me, during middle and high school as a symptom of our culture and society’s failure in general to represent a wide variety of queer experiences – particularly outside of lesbian, gay, and trans identities – to young people so that people like me can better understand themselves. I can’t deny the fact that the social norms about dating and relationships in high school that I found in the media I consumed had a major impact on me, to the point where they sometimes contradicted how my mother tried to raise me. This post is in part a reflection on myself that struck me recently, but also yet another piece of evidence about how the lack of representation for ace and aro people actively damages our lives.

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Run To You - Chpt.5

Summary: Bucky & Steve’s date has some unintended consequences forcing Bucky to make some hard decisions. Master list is HERE :)

Content Warnings: Attempted child abduction. Emphasis on ATTEMPTED. Becca will be fine ya’ll. 

Word Count: 5.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Remember last chapter where I was like “oh hey enjoy this unusually large chapter”? Well, I went to write a normally sized chapter and my hand slipped. Whoops! Enjoy another giant beast chapter lovelies! And don’t hate me for the angst!! I promise this fic has a happy ending, it’s just a long road to get there. XOXO - Ash

Chapter Five

Bucky wakes to bright light streaming in his bedroom window and Becca sitting on top of him. “Wake up sleepy head!” she chirps, shoving his shoulder as hard as she can. 

“Whoa, calm it down little miss.” Bucky grumbles. 

“I’m gonna be late!” 

Bucky looks over at the alarm clock and realizes she’s right. “Shit.” 

“Bad word!!” 

“Becca!” Bucky snaps and instantly regrets it. “Quieter, bug. Please. Come on, let’s get moving.” 

Bucky hurries Becca through her morning routine, grabbing her tiny backpack and breakfast on their way out the door. Bucky knows he’s a mess, hair sloppily thrown up in a bun, sweatpants and a hoodie because he just can’t take the time to find real clothes. He doesn’t even bother to throw on his prosthetic. Becca nibbles at her string cheese and mini muffins as they hustle down the busy city sidewalks to her school, just finishing as they round the last corner. He gives her a quick hug and kiss before she runs into the building screeching hello to the teacher at the door. The teacher gives Bucky an odd look that he chalks up to him looking like a hot mess and he gives her a small wave and terse smile in return. 

It’s early yet and Bucky doesn’t have to worry about work for a few more hours so he decides to splurge and stop for coffee and a breakfast sandwich on his walk home. One treat won’t hurt and he’s still holding on to the warm feeling in his chest from last night’s date with Steve. Waiting in line a few other people give Bucky strange looks and he wonders how rough of shape he’s in. He prays there isn’t a giant rip on his clothes or something but after a discrete check he doesn’t think that’s the case. Just a weird morning then. 

The hoodie actually comes in handy once Bucky realizes he can’t carry both a sandwich and his coffee when he’s down an arm. Tucking the sandwich in his hoodie pouch, he sips the pumpkin spice latte slowly enjoying the sweet fall flavors on his way home. His phone starts chirping at him but with no free hand Bucky is forced to ignore it until he gets back to the apartment. It was going off earlier too and he figures who ever needs him so damn bad can just wait five more minutes. 

Bucky stretches out on the sofa to enjoy his breakfast, throwing on a random movie from his queue, when he finally looks at his phone. He wonders if the world is ending and he missed it somehow. Eight missed calls from Steve, two voicemails, and four texts. Two calls from Natasha, one voicemail, and two texts. Three texts from Clint. 

Natasha wants to know if he’s seen the news, if he’s okay, and what she can do to help. 

Clint also asks if he’s okay and tells him he’s an ass for not sharing the deets. 

Steve asks him repeatedly to call him, frantically apologizing in between. 

Still confused and becoming increasingly worried, Bucky brings up the news on his phone and finds his own face on the front page. The picture is from the night before, he and Steve walking back to his place with Becca on Steve’s shoulders. They look so happy that it tugs at Bucky’s heartstrings before the realization of what this means sinks in. He shoots a quick text to Natasha assuring her that he’s fine and he’ll catch up with her tonight. Clint gets two emojis in response: a thumbs up and the middle finger. Steve, he actually calls back. The blonde had sounded so worried in his voicemails. 

“Bucky, thank god.” Steve blurts out in lieu of hello. 

“Well good morning to you too.” Bucky jokes. 

“Are you okay? Is Becca okay?” 

“Yeah, Steve, we’re good. I just dropped Becca off a preschool. I don’t know what you’re worried about, it was a normal morning outside of a few funny looks. But honestly that was probably me going out looking like a hobo because I overslept.” 

“Buck…” Steve falters, “It won’t be long ‘til they figure out who you are. We can keep the press at bay here in the tower but you’re going to have some serious issues as soon as a reporter gets your name. You and Becca could come stay here for a bit or I can have a security team allocated to you both until the news dies down.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down a minute. We don’t need security and I’m not dragging Becca to Manhattan just because some dudes with cameras may or may not come pester us. We’ll be okay.” 

“I’m just worried about you guys. You didn’t sign on for the shit storm that’s blowing up right now. I’m so sorry, Buck.” 

“Actually, I did.” Bucky points out, “I’m not stupid, Steve. I knew what I was signing on for the minute we started talking. It’s gonna be okay, nothing lasts forever and Becca is a resilient kid.” 

Steve is quiet for a long moment, trying to compose himself to say what he knows he needs to say. “If you need to take some time apart until this all dies down…” he chokes up and lets the sentence lie. 

“No.” Bucky’s voice is firm. “I’m not running on you again. We’re gonna deal with this together.” 

“Okay,” Steve sighs heavily in relief, “I’m going to be tied up today doing interviews. Apparently there’s no hiding the fact that I’m bisexual now. It’s funny that I’ve never tried to hide it but the news is claiming I’ve been ‘publicly outed’ by the tabloids. I’m not going to say a whole lot about you, about us. I don’t want to speak for you or anything. But if you’re okay with it, I would like to confirm that I’m in a relationship and that I care about you very much.” 

“Aww, you big sap. Yeah, of course that’s fine.” 

“Can I call you later when I have time?” 

“I’m working tonight but I’ll have a chance for a quick break around 10pm.” 

“I’ll talk to you then. If you need anything, I mean it Buck, anything, just call me. I’ll pick up on national TV if I have to.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes and hopes Steve can feel his exasperation through the phone lines. “Get going, ya punk. You have a country full of conservatives to horrify with your secret homosexual agenda.” 

Steve laughs, the first bit of happiness he’s had since waking up to the news. “Will do.” he says quickly and hangs up before his overly dramatic heart can blurt out something terribly stupid like I love you. He pushes down the tender, fledgling emotion, knowing it’s too fast but feeling the gentle flutters nonetheless. 

Natasha arrives at Bucky’s apartment a full hour early that night so he can get her caught up while making dinner for her and Becca, while Becca watches an episode of Wonder Pets in the living room. Natasha apparently watched a few interview clips of Steve’s and teases Bucky over how completely smitten they both are. It’s nice and normal, the teasing and banter over a new relationship with his best friend. It makes him think Steve really was just being overly concerned with his fears.

It’s a blessedly slow night at the ER and no one seems to recognize Bucky as he hops from one patient to the next, getting people stabilized and ready to be seen by one of the doctors on shift. When Steve calls at ten he sounds better than he had that morning. He’s exhausted from the media circus but pleased that he was able to get the story out in his own words. He asked for privacy for all their sakes but knows it won’t last long. Bucky continues to assure him that they’ll handle things as they come and to not worry. Steve can’t help but feel like it’s the calm before the storm. 

The calm only lasts until 2am. Dr. Strange pulls Bucky out of a patient room, pushing Darcy in to take his place and dragging him down the hall to the staff break room. “What the hell?” Bucky demands once the door is shut. 

Strange’s face is grim, “There are currently fifteen reporters in the lobby all asking if you’re working and if anyone has a statement they’d like to make.” 

Bucky’s stomach drops, “Fuck.” 

“Yes, fuck indeed. I’ve already made some calls and the police are on their way to clear house. We don’t expect that to last however. HR is willing to give you the rest of this week off, paid, while we sort out protocol for this sort of thing. Amanda will call you tomorrow to talk details once the board meets and decides what we can do to protect both you and our patients. We obviously can’t have reporters milling around every time you work.” 

Bucky doesn’t even know what to say. 

“If you want to go gather your things, Paul in security will escort you out the back away from the reporters.” 

“Okay,” Bucky agrees, because really what else can he do?

Darcy catches up with him as he’s packing up his locker, “They’re sending you home?” she cries, pulling him into a hug. 

Bucky nods numbly, “Rest of the week, yeah. They have to, there’s too much going on right now. It’s paid at least.”  

“Well that’s something.” Darcy concedes. “How are you getting home? It’s a madhouse out there.” 

“Paul’s gonna have me go out the back. I’ll be okay.” 

“Call me if you need me.” she insists, giving him another tight hug. 

Bucky promises he will and then follows the kindly old security guard through the maze of hospital halls and outside. 

The air is bitter cold and Bucky’s thankful for his heavy jacket as he hurries down the mostly empty streets home. Natasha is tapping away on her laptop when he arrives. She does cyber security work and swears she gets most of her work done after midnight anyway. It works out well when he needs help on his overnight shift rotations. 

“What happened?” she demands and slams the lid of her laptop down. 

Bucky shucks off his jacket and joins Natasha on the sofa. “Reporters showed up at the hospital, like a lot of them. Strange was on tonight, thank god, he’s a tough son of a bitch and he wasn’t putting up with crap from anyone. They snuck me out the back while the cops got rid of the reporters.” 

“But what about tomorrow? Is this gonna affect your job?” 

Bucky shrugs, trying to ignore the low level fear humming in his veins over that exact concern. “I honestly don’t know. HR is gonna call me tomorrow once they figure out ‘protocol’ for this. Somehow Strange got them to give me the rest of the week off with pay. I don’t even know what I’m going to do with myself for the next six days.” 

Natasha raises an eyebrow, surprised and happy for him. “I vote catching up on your Netflix queue and being a lazy ass. You never take a break, Bucky. And you of all people deserve one. Maybe go spend some more time with that gorgeous boyfriend of yours. Some kid-free time, if you know what I mean.” She wiggles her eyebrows until Bucky throws a pillow at her. She ducks easily, laughing. “I’m just saying! It’s been a long time since he-who-shall-not-be-named.” 

Bucky bristles at the mention of his ex. He should have seen Brock for the piece of shit he was, but he’d missed it at first, too wrapped up in the bliss of a new relationship. In the end, Brock’s true colors had come out and Bucky had ended things before it could become even more toxic than they already become. He sighs, pushing the ugly memories away. “It hasn’t been that long. And you’re forgetting Micah from the hospital cafe.” 

“It’s been four years since him. And Micah doesn’t count. That was a year ago and it didn’t go past a lunch date where he, and I quote, kissed you like a St. Bernard.” 

Bucky shudders at the memory. “Okay, so it’s been a while. Maybe I will go see Steve one day while Becca’s at school.” 

“That’s more like it!” Natasha cheers quietly, cautious to not disturb Becca. “So, do you want company or should I scoot and let you get some rest?” 

“I love you for offering but I just wanna crash. If I can get a few hours now I’ll be able to get back on daytime hours easier.” 

“Love you too.” Natasha leans over to hug him before packing up her stuff and heading out. 

It was a crazy day but as Bucky climbs into bed, he’s still resolved that it’s going to be okay again soon. 

Bucky is groggy when his alarm goes off at 7am but it’s better than he would have been if he hadn’t gotten any sleep. Becca is thrilled that he’s home and even more so when he tells her that he’ll be home the rest of the week. They make plans over breakfast for things they can do after she gets out of school since they have all the time in the world now. Bucky compromises with one quick park trip, which he cringes thinking about but he’ll just have to pack her inhaler and make sure she takes breaks, two trips to the library, and one night they’ll grab dinner at the neighborhood diner for their kids eat free night. 

The week flies by and Bucky gets the all clear on Thursday to return the following Sunday once the hospital is able to put additional security in place. He’s thankful they’re not just letting him go to avoid all the hassle but several nurses and doctors apparently made their opinions loud and clear that he was worth the additional security measures. Bucky is eternally grateful for his coworkers and makes plans to take in a tray of thank you brownies on his first shift back. 

A second round of good news comes in a few hours later; Steve is back early from his latest mission. They make plans for the following day, unwilling to wait any longer to see one another again. Steve will be, in theory, just hanging around the tower wrapping up some post-mission paperwork from earlier in the week so he’ll be able to take most of the day to show Bucky around the tower and spend time with him. He also offered to take them all to The Met after Becca gets out of school and Bucky said he’ll consider it. It’s a little extravagant, but something about picking her up together and going on an outing tugs at his heartstrings. It’s so perfectly domestic, like a real family would do. Bucky tries to ignore the longing he feels for something he’s never let himself consider before. 

There’s a lone reporter lingering outside his apartment when Bucky heads out to pick up Becca from school. There were a lot the first two days but their numbers dropped off drastically when they realized he really wasn’t all that interesting. “Hey man.” Bucky gives the reporter a little wave. He has to give the guy credit for determination. “Still not going to do anything interesting, sorry.” 

The reporter huffs a laugh, “Ya never know!” 

Bucky laughs in return and heads off, trying to ignore the fact that the man is following him a few steps back. He gives the guy a few more days before he gives up too. Bucky is a single parent with a full time job, he doesn’t have the time to do anything interesting. 

Rounding the corner to Becca’s school he spies the little girl talking to a man in a long beige wool coat. The man is tall and thin with greying hair and wire framed glasses. His appearance screams of wealth in a way that would make him fit right in as a parent of someone at the school, but something is off and Bucky steps up his pace. Becca hasn’t spotted him yet but he hears the man ask “Your daddy is friends with Captain America isn’t he?” 

Becca, all proud smiles, informs him, “He’s my brother, not my daddy. And Captain America is his boyfriend.” 

“Isn’t that nice. Hey, I have something you can give your brother for me, okay? Can you be a big helper? It’s right over here.” Becca looks unsure so the man smiles brightly and takes her hand, leading her down the sidewalk away from the school. A black van pulls up at the end of the block, a door swinging open and the man hurries her along. 

Bucky screams Becca’s name and breaks out into a full run. Icy fear consumes him, driving him to move faster than he ever has before. Please God no, please, don’t let them take my baby girl. 

The reporter realizes what’s going on and sprints right along with Bucky. They collide with the man and Becca at the same time. The reporter tackles the man, pinning him to the ground, leaving Bucky to grab Becca and roll to the ground shielding her in his arms. A teacher runs over with her phone out yelling “The police are on their way!” to them. 

The man writhes underneath the reporter, trying to free himself while looking panickedly at the van. The van door slides shut and then the vehicle flies off with screeching tires. Once it’s out of sight the man lays his head back on the pavement in defeat.

“Just stay put buddy.” the reporter grumbles. 

Now that Becca is safe Bucky is filled with a depth of rage he didn’t even realize he was capable of. Somebody tried to snatch his baby girl right in broad daylight. Bucky checks her over one more time before passing her off to the teacher who’s still holding on the line for 911. 

Bucky stalks over to where the reporter still has the man pinned. His movements are predatory, his voice low, practically a grow, when he demands, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

The reporter just stares at the man, also waiting for an answer. 

“I am one of many.”

Bucky shakes his head. God, he just wants to punch this guy in his smug face. “Fine. Who do you work for?” 

“Cut off one head and two more take its place.” 

“I’m getting real sick of riddles and I still got at least two minutes before the cops show. Last time, asshole. Who the fuck do you work for and why do you want my kid?”

“The child, or you, it matters not. Either will get us the captain. We are everywhere. We will come again, and we will succeed. Hail Hydra.” The man crunches down on something and within seconds he’s foaming at the mouth, his eyes rolling lifeless back in his head.

Bucky looks to Becca, thankful the teacher is shielding her away from what took place. Ice cold fear runs in his veins. He knew there could potentially be a risk dating Steve, but it was an abstract sort of knowledge. Up until minutes ago he’d thought the only real concern was pesky reporters. Most of which, he has to admit, are actually good people just trying to make a living. A real threat, a fucking terrorist threat, is something he’d never really put much thought into. That name too: Hydra. Everyone knows of the Nazi group who Captain America has been trying to destroy since the 40s. A threat from them is very, very real. 

The cops arrive and start dispersing the crowd that’s formed. It seems like forever until they’ve taken statements from everyone and the body is removed. Becca holds up as well as a four year old can trying to answer the police man’s questions, and Bucky fills in gaps as he can. They take his statement too and let him know they can provide a security detail if he wants. The officer looks sheepish but also recommends he call Steve because Shield and the Avengers can likely provide better security than the NYPD can. Bucky thanks the officer and agrees to call Steve as soon as possible. 

Becca is shaking so hard by the time they head home that Bucky scoops the little girl up to carry her the whole way. Two uniformed officers follow them back and do a full sweep of the apartment just to err on the side of caution. Buck appreciates the security but as he stands in his too quiet apartment he realizes he can’t do this every day. He adopted Becca to give her a better life and now he’s put her in more danger than she ever would have been in being raised by their parents. All because some small part of him still held on to the hope that there was someone out there that he could love and would love him back wholeheartedly and forever. That despite his upbringing, he could have a perfect family of his own one day. Bucky feels painfully childish that his pathetic longing for a partner had almost cost him his sister. 

Ever the responsible parent, Bucky stifles the emotions whirling in his chest and puts on a good front for Becca’s sake. She falls asleep halfway through Frozen II and Bucky doesn’t even bother trying to wake her. He knows there’s no fighting the adrenaline crash she’s feeling. His own crash will be equally brutal when it comes, but for now it’s still nowhere in sight. Bucky is too keyed up, restless and desperately trying to find a solution that keeps all of them safe and happy. He drags a cup of coffee and a blanket out onto the fire escape where he sits to watch the sun drop lower and lower among the roof tops. He’s almost finished his drink when a knock sounds on the door. 

The security detail is supposed to be vetting anyone going near his apartment so the odds are good it’s someone he knows, but it doesn’t stop him from slipping a kitchen knife into his hand on the way to the door. Peering through the peephole Bucky sees red hair, black leather, and a very pissed off Natasha. “Let me in.” she says, it sounds like a warning. 

Bucky opens the door and stands out of the way. It’s not worth arguing with Natasha when she gets like this. 

“You turned off your phone.” She comments without emotion. 

Bucky nods. “I don’t want to deal with it right now.” 

Natasha follows him as he heads to the kitchen to return the knife, seemingly pleased by his caution. “By it, you mean Steve.” 

“Amongst other things.” 

“You know I’m here for you. Whatever you need, just name it.” 

“That’s just it, I don’t know. I keep coming to the same answer and I hate it, Nat. I just… I can’t do this to Becs.” Bucky’s voice cracks on the little girl’s name and Natasha wraps her best friend into a tight hug. 

“You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do.” 

“I don’t even know how to do what I want to do. I’m sure it’s not nearly as easy as movies make it out to be.”

“Let me help. You and Becca mean the world to me. Whatever it is we’ll figure it out together.” 

Bucky sighs heavily, still leaning on Natasha. “We need to disappear.” 

Natasha goes still, “Are you sure?” 

“No. Yes. I don’t know. I can’t think of any other way to keep her safe. Even if I break up with Steve, Hydra can still use us as leverage. Feelings don’t just disappear... But people can.” 

“Okay. Give me four hours.” Natasha pulls back and starts texting rapidly on a small cell phone Bucky has never seen before. 

“What the fuck, Nat.” 

“Working in cyber security has some perks.” She shrugs. 

“I don’t think it’s normally supposed to have those kinds of perks.” 

“Well, it depends on who you’re keeping secure.” Nastaha’s smile is cheshire. 

“Damn. Okay, then. What do you need me to do?” 

“Stay put. I’d say try to get some sleep but I know you won’t. Pack a duffel bag for each of you. No more than that, I mean it. Think in terms of what you absolutely can’t leave behind, this is not packing for vacation. You can buy basic stupid shit when you get where you’re going. Two outfits and whatever else you can’t leave that fits in two duffels. Got it?” 

“Okay, got it.” 

“Oh, and your phone. You won’t be needing that anymore.” 

Bucky holds the phone out but doesn’t let go. “I have all of Becs’ baby pictures on there.” 

Natasha gives him an understanding smile. “I’ll move them all to an online cloud storage site. You won’t lose a single one.” 

Bucky releases the phone. “Thanks, Nat.” 

Natasha hugs him tightly again. “Four hours. Be ready.” 

And with that Bucky is left alone in his living room in shock. He supposes he shouldn’t be all that surprised. Natasha has always been a badass. He used to joke she was really a Russian spy and their friendship was just a cover for her real identity. Bucky now wonders now how close to the truth he might have been. 

Four hours later, down to the minute, Natasha is striding through his door once again, a large envelope tucked under her arm. There’s no warm welcome or pleasantries, Natasha has her game face on and Bucky is still too rattled to try for levity. Spreading the papers out on the coffee table Natasha organizes everything quickly. “Birth certificates, immigration paperwork, social security cards, school records, medical records, a resume with work history and references, and a quick life history fact sheet for both of you.” She places a wallet from her pocket onto the table as well, flipping it open quickly to show him it’s fully filled with cards, cash, and an ID card.

Bucky scans over the documents, unable to believe she had pulled this off so quickly and how real everything looked. “Sebastian Stan?” he asks, nose wrinkling. 

Natasha nods, “Yep, you’re Romanian. You moved here with your daughter Elena when she was two months old. Your wife died in childbirth and so you brought her here to start over.” 

He spies the address on the drivers license. “Rochester? Is that where we’re actually going?” 

“No, of course not. You and your daughter have recently moved to Cape Elizabeth, Maine. That’s where you’re headed. You’ll be happy to know their local urgent care center is looking for a new triage nurse. The pay is pretty good and it’ll be enough to cover rent for the cute little apartment that you just put a down payment on.” Natasha pulls something from her pocket, it’s flesh colored and rolled up tightly. She hands it over with a simple, “Here, you’ll need this too. Don’t want that guy drawing too much attention to you.” 

Bucky stares at the silicone sleeve, realizing it’s a perfect fit for his prosthetic. The details are down to an art, from light arm hairs and tiny freckles. It’s soft enough too that as long as you don’t grasp it very hard, it’ll feel shockingly similar to his right arm. “Damn. You don’t miss a thing, do you?”

“Of course not. Who do you think you’re dealing with?” Natasha glares at him affectionately.

Bucky chuckles, of course she’s the best at this. She’s been the best at everything since the day they met. “What happens to Bucky and Becca Barnes then?” he’s afraid to ask but he needs to know.

“They got on a flight to Moscow two hours ago. There’s a few nice security officers and cab drivers who will all verify they were sighted leaving the airport about eight hours from now.” 

“That works for the rest of the world, but what happens if Steve goes looking? He has an awful lot of friends in high places.” 

“Steve isn’t going to go looking right now. And even if he did, the alibi will hold up. Trust me.” 

A tiny piece of Bucky’s heart shatters that Steve would just let him go so easily. 

Natasha recognizes the look on his face and quickly adds, “He called you non stop after the news broke. Sent you dozens of texts too. You very nearly had the full force of SHIELD and the Avengers on your doorstep if it wasn’t for Tony Stark.” 

“What happened?” 

“Tony convinced Steve that if you weren’t calling or responding that he was as good as dumped. The rumor mill always hinted their relationship was strained but Tony really is good at kicking Steve when he’s down and Tony played his cards right on this one. Steve has been holed up in his apartment all night, he’s not doing too great.” 

It kills Bucky to know he’s putting Steve through this pain, but he’s firm in his decision. He’d be more disappointed in himself but he’s too tired. Things got tough and he’s doing exactly what he’s been doing since he was a kid to protect himself: he’s running. “How do you even know all this?” Bucky asks, realizing Natasha shouldn’t have this level of detail on the goings on at the tower. 

“I hacked into the security feed at Avengers Tower. Jarivs was a handful but not more than I could handle. Tony Stark is brilliant but he’s also arrogant, and that’s his downfall.” 

“You are, without a doubt, the scariest person I’ve ever met. I’m gonna miss you.” Bucky can’t hold back the tears at the thought of leaving Natasha behind. 

“What do you mean, miss me? You went to college with Natalie Rushman, you’re even Instagram friends. You haven’t seen me in a few years but we still keep in touch regularly.” Natasha brings out yet another little black phone he’s never seen and shows him Natalie’s Instagram account. 

“How many of those little phones do you have tucked up your sleeve?” he teases.

“The world will never know.” she quips in return. “I do need to go though.” she adds in a more serious tone.

Bucky nods, he knew this was coming. He can’t get words past the lump in his throat.

“You have a train to catch in about forty minutes. That one will take you as far as Boston and there’s more tickets from there. Try and get some rest, you’ll be getting into town in Maine around eight in the morning.” 

“I’ve gone longer without sleep pulling doubles at the hospital, this won’t be nearly as bad.” 

Natasha gives him a half hearted smile, “You’re all set then.” 

Bucky pulls her in for one last hug. “I’ll message Natalie when we arrive.” 

“Mmm, yes. Sebastian would definitely snap a pic of his new hometown when he arrives. I’ve heard it’s very Insta-worthy.” Tears shine in Natasha’s eyes but they don’t fall. She swallows thickly. “Be safe.” 

“You too.” Bucky manages to croak out through the overwhelming tide of emotions. He holds her for one last heartbeat before she slips out the door like a ghost. 

Bucky goes through all the documents Natasha left behind and finds a thin red iPhone in the stack. There’s a post-it note stuck on top warning “do not activate until after you are on the second train”. So much for keeping himself occupied while he waits. In the end he spends most of the time pacing around the apartment and double checking his bags. He checks the time again, making sure he’s down to the final few minutes when he finally goes to get a sleeping Becca from her bed. She barely stirs as he carefully slides her into her warm purple jacket and slips socks and shoes on her feet. He slings her over his shoulder and collects the two duffels with his free hand. It’s a little jarring to see tan skin where he’s used to seeing shiny steel but he appreciates that Natasha thought of everything. 

He worries momentarily about the security detail outside his apartment but quickly realizes they’re distracted helping an elderly woman catch her escaped pomeranian who’s barking up a storm. It’s a good diversion, one clearly planned out. Bucky holds on tightly to Becca and all but runs down the hall to the stairwell. He doesn’t slow down until he’s two blocks away and he realizes he really did escape without being sighted. Slowing his pace to a normal New York hustle, he heads towards the train station and to their new lives.

[fred-frederator-studios]

Dale Pon, R.I.P.

Pretty much the most famous media advertising campaign in history is “I Want My MTV!” –the May 2020 Google search returns 184,000 results, more than 30 years after the last flight ran– and it was the result of the brain of Dale Pon.*

* As I explain in detail in the pieces below, writer extraordinaire Nancy Podbielniak was the word spark for the campaign; it was George Lois who suggested ripping off “I Want My Maypo!” Dale Pon was the person who took these notions and turned them into brilliance.

Dale persuaded me and the powers that be at MTV that he could make it work, Dale who convinced MTV programmers to recording artists to participate for no fees. It was Dale who took the paltry budget allotted and strategized how to maximize the network’s cable distribution. And finally, it was Dale Pon’s dogged persistence and genius that caused cable operators across America to beg us to please stop running the campaign before all the telephone operators quit in frustration from all the people “demanding their MTV!!!” 

My great friend –and better mentor– Dale Pon, passed away from difficulties due to Parkinson’s and Covid19. There’s no way to convey all of the ways people expressed their sadness to me today, but one of them probably encapsulated things best by saying “Complicated but brilliant, creatively inspired, strategic like chess master , we were lucky to have been touched by his talents...” All too true. 

Dale could be –to say the least– a challenging personality. Determined to win, he could be a bulldozer crushing an ant. Warm at his core, he could be beyond generous will all he had at his disposal. Unlike many others with talent and raw intelligence, he was quick to share his remarkable thinking, lavish in his ability to elevate the talents of the shy and uncertain, and as bountiful with praises as he could be lacerating with his critical observations. He loved as deeply as he was able, and a constant explorer for the meanings of life. 

When it came to the work, there was no one better at understanding media, and getting fans interested in its rewards. I don’t know if it was his methodologies and personality, or the fact that media promotion wasn’t all that well respected in the ad biz, but Dale didn’t have too much of a profile in the advertising world. I think, ultimately, he was much more focused on the work than on the publicity. So, things being what they are, what I’ve collected seems to be the most comprehensive look at his career, at least the parts that I’ve directly touch. By no means is it comprehensive, I know nothing about his radio days in the early 70s, and little about his work after I joined the cartoon industry. But all of what I have is yours, below. 

I’ll lead with what a few of his colleagues and friends wrote a few years ago for Dale’s birthday. And then, below that, all the various campaign pieces (written from my perspective, of course) I’ve recalled over the years. 

.....

April 2016, on the occasion of Dale’s birthday.

Dale Pon, my mentor and friend. Fucking smart.

Dale Pon’s been on my mind lately, as he is almost every day, because of the ways he taught me to think about …. um,everything. I’ve written about some other important mentors before, but Dale’s influence was so staggering I could never figure out how to sketch it out in anything shorter than book length.  

“Dominate the space.” (He was referring to graphic design, but it might have served as a life philosophy).

“Of course, there’s an absolute truth.”

“You remember the first thing you see, but the last thing you hear.”

“The power of three.” (Broke that rule with this list.)

“Advertising is a frequency medium.”

“You make album tracks. I make hit songs.”

I’m not sure that he ever thought of himself as particularly quotable, but as you’ll see below, I wasn’t alone in internalizing. There were hundreds more bon mots, most of which he probably forgot as soon as he said them but stuff I’ve never been able to shake off, to this day.

His resume doesn’t do him justice, but quickly… For 40 years, Dale Pon was at the forefront of media programming and promotion for many of the major media companies, CBS, NBC, Viacom, Storer Broadcasting (where we met). He specialized in radio throughout his career, but when Bob Pittman moved into cable television, he prevailed there too (“I Want My MTV!” is still returns hundreds of thousands of Google search results, 30 years after it went off the air). He was wildly successful in an advertising agency partnership with ad legend George Lois, before setting up a solo shop, Dale Pon Advertising, in New York City.

Dale was brash and loud, very, and he certainly wasn’t to everyone’s taste. The friend who first recommended me for one of his jobs called in a rage when he quit and said if I really needed a gig so badly… I knew Dale’s work from its supremacy of the metropolitan subway system for the New York country music powerhouse (a paradox if there ever was one) WHN Radio, but it hadn’t occurred to me that actual human beings created advertising, or that it took any real brain power. Dale quickly disabused me of that notion, as he sent me to his tailor to buy me my first three piece suit (more appropriate for Park Avenue media than the cut off shorts I wore to our interview).

Most of all, he was really fucking smart. And deeply, articulately, astute about media. He could tell the story of radio stations or television networks better than anyone, and persuade their audiences to fall profoundly in love, by sticking to the basic human emotions like truth, desire, love. (My favorite? “Love songs, nothing but love songs” for WPIX-FM, directly appropriated for an Off-Broadway show). He didn’t end it there, with a creative, strategic and statistical brilliance that combined, to quote Bob Pittman (from another context completely) “math and magic.”

What I appreciated most was his intense, almost overwhelming desire to teach me everything he knew at exactly the moment I was desperate for his knowledge. In fact, as I observed him with myself and others over the years, it would be fair to say that if you wasn’t interested in being taught, Dale Pon wasn’t interested in you. And, not for nothing, it went both ways. He’s was as incisive a questioner and listener as one could want. Curious, intrigued, dying to know anything on almost any subject. In my case, it meant that we generally spent six or seven days together all the years we were together in two different media capitals. Whew!

Difficult? Challenging? Exasperating? You bet. I wouldn’t trade that time for anything.

Dale’s the one who changed the course of my work life, and as Scott Webb says below, “he changed me.” It’s because of Dale that I stumbled on my understanding that I wasn’t a music guy after all, or even a TV baby, but a pop culture sponge. I wouldn’t had the chance to participate in any of the culture shiftings I got to observe first hand. Who knows, maybe I would’ve stumbled through a life of complete dissatisfaction. That’s how profound his influence was on me.

Dale’s birthday recently passed by, and stuck for cogent things to say about him, I reached out to a few friends who’ve crossed his path and might be better at expressing themselves than I ever could. You’ll notice they’re pretty powerful personalities themselves, but Dale made an impression. Boy, did he make an impression. (I left out some of those controversial moments and unproductive comments.)

Well, our friends didn’t let us down. They got to the heart of the matter in ways I never could. Thanks everyone.

…..

Herb Scannell: Mythical.

Dale Pon is mythical.

He’s the man who “wanted his MTV” and got the world to say the same. My friend Fred always claimed that he learned whatever he knew from Dale and whatever I know I learned from Fred so it all comes back to Dale. Or blame them both. Happy Birthday Dale! Forever young!

…..

Bob Pittman: The Mad Scientist.

Dale Pon is the mad scientist of advertising. Full of passion, always with a breakthrough idea and the urgency to get it done quickly with no compromises. He made a huge contribution to my successes at WNBC Radio, MTV and even Six Flags theme parks. One of a kind….happy birthday to him from a big fan!

……

Scott Webb: “Most people don’t know how to think.”

Dale Pon didn’t just change my life he changed me. He encouraged me to be brave and fearless and never stop solving problems. He is one of the smartest people I have ever met and the teacher I will never forget.

You never know how things are going to happen. After 4 years at Sarah Lawrence, one of the most expensive liberal arts schools, I was clueless about a career. My secret wish was to write comics (mostly because I had no talent to draw). Unlike most of my class at SLC my parents were basically working class folks with a yankee work ethic who expected me to not move back home after graduation.

One January evening, I was talking with my friend Betsy K who had just graduated. She had just returned home from job hunting in the city. She had an interview at WNBC Radio; they weren’t hiring but were looking for interns. “What’s an intern?” I asked. I was so naive.

I immediately fell in love with the energy of the radio station. I had to work there.

“You’ll be working for Dale Pon. He’s very demanding. Do you think you can handle that?” asked Buzz Brindle, a WNBC program director. Me? Of course! I’ve got my Yankee work ethic and my Sarah Lawrence education. I thought I was ready for anything. But I was not ready for Dale Pan.

Dale was bigger than life, louder than anyone else in the company and frequently slammed the door to his tiny office. I found him brilliant, charismatic and intimidating.

My first big assignment for Dale was to create a chart of all the radio stations in New York and rank them by ratings performance over the past 2 years. I wanted to do a great job for him but the truth was that I was terrible at chart making. I was a liberal arts comic book kid and he had me doing statistical analysis and I knew if I did a bad job I would probably face his famous wrath behind a slammed closed door. But despite my inept chart building, Dale painstakingly taught me how to read the Arbitron reports and methodically went through my work and instructed me how to correct it. I learned more from him over that 5 month internship than I had in my last 2 years of college. But my lesson wasn’t in statistical analysis or radio promotion. Dale had high expectations of me, he believed in me and he was demanding in the pursuit of excellence.

A lot of people at the station didn’t like Dale mostly because he would raise his voice to make a point or because he was passionate about his beliefs, or would not hold back his opinion when something was mediocre, pedestrian or just plain stupid. Dale expected greatness in people, work and business. His mission was to win and often people found that difficult to embrace. I, on the other hand, found it awesome. I guess he reminded me of the comic book heroes I admired so much - characters who were extraordinary and could do things other people thought were impossible. Most people at the radio station were happy to have a job and get a paycheck and could care less about being #1 but for him that was all that mattered.

It didn’t hurt that he was so smart and insightful. He had the uncanny super power of understand exactly what the problem was – and he taught me that creativity was the ability to solve problems in fresh, innovative and smart ways.

“Do you know why I hired you?” he asked me at the end of my internship. “I didn’t want to hire one of those kids who studied advertising or media in college. Those kids have been ruined. They show up thinking they already know everything - and they haven’t even had a job yet. You didn’t know anything but you were willing to learn and think. Most people don’t know how to think.”  

Those were some of the most important words I ever heard. They lit a fire of confidence and trust in myself that did not exist before and served me throughout my life, not just in work but in life.

…..

Bill Sobel: He yelled at me on the phone…no idea why.

…..

Noreen Morioka: “Good creates things, and Evil destroys it.”

There is no doubt that we all have a great Dale Pon story. Dale never did anything average. He did everything in extremes. Whether you were laughing so hard that you couldn’t breathe or wanting to shake him like a rag doll, Dale is unforgettable.

One of my favorite Dale Pon stories is when he was pitching a new name for a network. Since the channel was going to be all re-runs of a lower level, Dale named it Trash TV. I loved it, but when I presented my designs, he thought what I did wasn’t trashy enough and proceeded to get another designer to put flies swarming around the proposed logomark. When he presented his concept to the network president, he stopped at the building dumpster and pulled out garbage to bring up to presentation. Needless to say, the meeting didn’t go well, and the president was furious that Dale brought garbage into his beautiful office. Stern words were exchanged on both sides and security was called to take Dale and garbage out of the office. He called later to let me know they were going to search for another name. The network changed their name several times since then, and each time Dale would just smile. We all knew his solution was genius.

Like you, Fred, Dale taught me a lot. He taught me never to settle, always come back stronger and most importantly what the difference between good and evil was.

“Good creates things, and Evil destroys it.” Thanks to this simple Dale Pon-ism, I live my life by.

I will always have a deep respect and love for that guy. Happy Birthday, Dale. You are the true original.

…..

Tina Potter: So thoughtful.  

Dale is a magnanimous gift-giver. I once told him the Chrysler Building was my favorite building in NY, and the next time I saw him, he brought me a beautiful framed B&W print of the building! So thoughtful. I still have it!

……

Judith Bookbinder: ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE.

I learned a lot from Dale in a very short time.

Dale taught me that ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE.

If you want to make something happen, figure it out or find someone who can do it for you.

This simple wisdom is something that has served me throughout my professional life.

…..

Ed Salamon: Directness and Simplicity.  

I always appreciate the opportunity to say something nice about Dale, but the stories that first came to mind involved women, drugs, and fistfights. Or were otherwise too self-incriminating. Here’s what I’ve come up with:

The genius of Dale’s creativity is its directness and simplicity (like “I Want My MTV!”). Unfortunately that sometimes resulted in it being underappreciated.

When we worked together at WHN Radio I once heard our boss say to Dale at the end of the day “We need a new ad campaign slogan for the station by tomorrow. Take twenty minutes tonight, walk around the Village and come up with something.”

When I later started The United Stations Radio Network with Dick Clark and others, we hired Dale to create the logo, which  he agreed to do out of friendship for only a nominal fee. The logo was a distinctive type face, with the letters stuck together (“united”). Some in the company commented that it was too simple; others appreciated its genius.

……

Tom Freston: A great bunch of guys.

Dale is a great bunch of guys. Argumentative, persistent, a perfectionist, fun, difficult, and smart as hell….winning, ultimately, most of his arguments. Happy birthday.

…..

Therese Gamba: “Work smarter, not harder.”

Long before there was “Better Call Saul” it was “Better Call Dale”  when you were faced with a creative challenge.  Dale had a long term relationship with MTV Networks having been part of the launch team for that iconic channel.  So when The Nashville Network had to be relaunched  as the new home of the WWE (then the WWF), oh and it had to be done in three months, there was only one person to call.

My first meeting with Dale was over lunch at the Mercer Kitchen.  Fred had prepped me that Dale liked metrics and to be ready for a lot of questions.  But as anyone who’s met with Dale will tell you, you can never be fully prepared for the hurricane of creative energy that is Dale Pon.

I was prepared with my Venn diagram of the overlap between TNN’s current viewers and the WWE’s viewers (no surprise, not a big cross section). Then the questions started in what felt like a ping pong match at warp speed.  

Two hours into the lunch I had held my own and received the nod from Dale that I was on the right track. I was exhausted, relieved and thrilled to have passed the test. I learned that once you’ve basked in the glow of Dale’s approval, you were hooked.  I also learned that I had become a member of an exclusive club, “Dale’s World.”  My fellow club members all know the stories, share the memories and still live by what he taught us.

Dale always said “work smarter, not harder.”  That mantra has never failed me just as Dale never failed to be supportive, inquisitive and completely one of a kind!

Happy Birthday dear Dale!

(From left): Dale Pon, Anne Grassi, Scott Webb at WNBC Radio, circa 1980.

Alan Goodman: “I’ll give you 50 bucks to fuck up this guy’s haircut.”

Two stories about Dale Pon –

1. I was in Paris with Dale (who ran our advertising agency – my mentor was now my supplier) and MTV’s VP of Programming, Les Garland. Dale and Les weren’t pals. How tense was it? We had dinner together one night in Paris and Les bought us all expensive Cuban cigars. Outside, Dale waited until Les split off to go to his hotel. The first second Les was out of sight, Dale pitched his cigar in the gutter.

We had flown on 10 hours notice so we could shoot Mick Jagger saying “I Want My MTV!” Dale had already shot a number of other MTV generation stars shouting the line, and some were even biggish. But Jagger was THE “get.” We knew that once Jagger blessed our campaign by participating, we’d get anyone else we would ever want. (We did).

We waited around the hotel a couple of days until we got the bat signal that Mick was ready, and raced over to his hotel to set up. Very quickly, what was supposed to be Dale’s shoot had become Les’ shoot. Dale was pissed, rigid with anger, sequestered with me in the adjoining room forced to watch the proceedings on a monitor. I went over to him to try to diffuse the situation. I can’t remember what I told him. But I remember his response, word for word:

“Do you think I need to hear any of this right now?”

I realized why I was in Paris. I was there, as the client, to witness who threw the first punch.

I had spent every single day of the past four months in the office trying to figure out how to do a job I had no idea how to do. I was exhausted. I had zero interest in the kind of politics and shenanigans that network executives pull, and I didn’t want to be there. That’s it, I decided. I’ve had enough. I’m a writer. I have a talent. I can make a living. I will get back home and I will immediately quit.

I said nothing. I smiled through the rest of the shoot. We stopped at a bistro after we wrapped, and had a lovely dinner and wine with the crew. It was a celebration. For good reason. We had Jagger. I stayed quiet. Silent, even. No one knew of my plans.

When we reached the hotel, Dale drew me aside and sat me down.

“You’re not going to quit,” he said. What?! Huh?! How did he know? On top of everything, the man can read minds??!

“You’re not going to quit. You are at the very beginning of something that will change the world, and you will have a great career. You have to stay there and be a part of that and do what you do really well. You cannot leave. Do you understand? You cannot quit.”

He went up to bed. I went home the next day, and didn’t quit. Instead, I stayed and helped make the thing that changed the world. And it was the beginning of a great career.

2. I went to get my hair cut at Astor Place one day. I walked up to my guy, and there in the chair was Dale. I didn’t know Dale used my guy. Dale looked up at me, looked at the barber, and told him, “I’ll give you 50 bucks to fuck up this guy’s haircut.”

…..

Scott Webb (unedited): “He didn’t just change my life he changed me.”

You never know how things are going to happen.

I was a few short months away from graduating from Sarah Lawrence College with no idea what I would do for a job. I was a kid who had grown up reading and loving comic books. After 4 years at one of the most expensive liberal arts schools I was clueless about a career. My secret wish remained to write comics (mostly because I had no talent to draw). Sarah Lawrence was a great place for me. It was there that I understood how to learn. I was naturally curious and SLC exposed me to a world of ideas and brilliant people (students and teachers). But Sarah Lawrence was not a place where I could start a career path. 5 months from graduating I felt the looming pressure of finding a job and making money. Unlike most of my class at SLC my parents were basically working class folks with a yankee work ethic who expected me to not move back home after graduation.  

One January evening, I was talking with my friend Betsy K who had just graduated. She had just returned home from job hunting in the city. She had an interview at WNBC radio with a guy named Buzz Brindle. She said they weren’t hiring but were looking for interns. “What’s an intern?” I asked. I was so naive. She explained that an internship is where you work for free - for experience and to get your foot in the door. WNBC was part of NBC - one of only 3 existing TV networks at the time and my eyes lit up at the idea of of doing anything with a big media company. So I lined up a meeting with Buzz to see if I was intern material.

Buzz was sweet and avuncular and I immediately fell in love with the energy of the radio station. I had to work there. “We’re looking for interns in the promotion department” Buzz explained and I just nodded as affirmatively as possible. “You’ll be working for Dale Pon. He’s very demanding. Do you think you can handle that?” Me? Of course! I’ve got my Yankee work ethic and my Sarah Lawrence education. I thought I was ready for anything. But I was not ready for Dale Pon.  

I interned at the station 2 days a week and It appeared I was the only male in Dale’s promotion team. I reported to a woman named Anne Grassi but Dale was the boss. Dale was bigger than life, louder than anyone else in the company and frequently slammed the door to his tiny office. I had never worked in an office before. I found him brilliant, charismatic and intimidating. The other interns and I would huddle in the conference room where we did our work and wait for our next assignment.

I did many things as an intern but my first big assignment for Dale was to create a chart of all the radio stations in New York and rank them by ratings performance over the past 2 years. This was no small task - this was way before computers in offices - and required me to go to the NBC research department to collect dozens of Arbitron ratings books and laboriously extract the data he wanted and lay it out graphically. I wanted to do a great job for him but the truth was that I was terrible at chart making.

I was a liberal arts comic book kid and he had me doing statistical analysis and I knew if I did a bad job I would probably face his famous wrath behind a slammed closed door. But despite my inept chart building, Dale painstakingly taught me how to read the Arbitron reports and methodically went through my work and instructed me how to correct it. I learned more from him over that 5 month internship than I had in my last 2 years of college. But my lesson wasn’t in statistical analysis or radio promotion. Dale had high expectations of me, he believed in me and he was demanding in the pursuit of excellence.

The chart was part of his battle plan to make WNBC #1 in the NYC market and when I understood the big picture of what he was doing I felt even more inspired and willing to do anything in the service of that cause.

A lot of people at the station didn’t like Dale mostly because he would raise his voice to make a point or because he was passionate about his beliefs, or would not hold back his opinion when something was mediocre, pedestrian or just plain stupid. Dale expected greatness in people, work and business. His mission was to win and often people found that difficult to embrace. I, on the other hand, found it awesome. I guess he reminded me of the comic book heroes I admired so much - characters who were extraordinary and could do things other people thought were impossible. Most people at the radio station were happy to have a job and get a paycheck and could care less about being #1 but for him that was all that mattered.  

It didn’t hurt that he was so smart and insightful. He had the uncanny super power of understand exactly wha the problem was - and he taught me that creativity was the ability to solve problems in fresh, innovative and smart ways. “Do you know why I hired you?” he asked me at the end of my internship. “I didn’t want to hire one of those kids who studied advertising or media in college. Those kids have been ruined. They show up thinking they already know everything - and they haven’t even had a job yet. You didn’t know anything but you were willing to learn and think. Most people don’t know how to think.”  Those were some of the most important words I ever heard. They lit a fire of confidence and trust in myself that did not exist before and served me throughout my life, not just in work but in life.

Dale Pon didn’t just change my life he changed me. He encouraged me to be brave and fearless and never stop solving problems. He is one of the smartest people I have ever met and the teacher I will never forget.

.....

Susan Kantor and David Hyman were on the opposite side of their relationships with him, Susan as a long time account executive in Dale’s agencies, and David as a client. Drew Takahashi, a trusted friend and wonderful creative partner.  

I’m particularly fond of the pull quote from David’s recollections. Having had hundreds of restaurant meals with DP over the years, waitress confusion was probably my overriding remembrance.

Susan Kantor has traveled to the upper heights of television since her time with Dale Pon in the 1980s. But when you read her memoir below he prepared her well, as he did with all of us.

Drew Takahashi is a director who co-founded (Colossal) Pictures, San Francisco, one of the most creative production companies of the 1980s and 90s, and one of the key creative suppliers to the first decades of MTV.

David Hyman became my head of marketing at the MTVi Group when the company purchased Sonicnet.com, one of David’s early digital music endeavors (he’s gone on as founder of MOG, one of the seminal digital music streamers).

…..

Susan Kantor: “Lead, don’t follow”. Love, Dale”

Hands down, Dale Pon was my most influential career mentor. Ridiculously smart, enormously passionate, admirably courageous and truthfully a little scary.

We would all brace ourselves for the moment the elevator doors opened and the sound of his fiercely determined walk in his trademarked cowboy boots could be heard. With the first, “good morning” would come a rapid fire interrogation of where we were at on all the “to do’s” he had just given us an hour ago. “Why isn’t it done yet?”

Leslie Fenn-Gershon and I used to joke about putting a Valium in his Perrier so we could get through the day.

When I got to the office in the morning there would often be a “note”, on my chair written with red Sharpie marker on yellow pad lined paper (pre-email), from Dale.  His handwriting, had as much conviction as his spoken word.  These encouraging notes were meant to guide, remind, teach, mentor or simply, to show his appreciation - often complimentary, occasionally piercing. I still have them.

“Lead, don’t follow”. Love, Dale

“Let’s make things happen!” Love Dale “

“There are children and there are parents. Be a parent.” Love, Dale “

“Everyone wants to be told what to do. Tell them.” Love, Dale “

“We had a good day today. Thank you for your help.” Love, Dale

As we chased rock stars around the globe helping MTV and VH1 revolutionize the music industry, and traversed across the county to position many TV and radio stations in their market, Dale always imparted the importance of what we were doing and demanded we do our very best, every day.

He recognized my innate work ethic, enthusiasm and willingness to do whatever it took to learn and succeed – he also knew how young and naïve I was.  Ripe for mentorship and direction. I got both, and then some. The Dale Pon “boot camp” was not always pretty, but it was always colorful, impactful, memorable and most importantly, meaningful.  

Not only did he teach me all about advertising and the importance of finding the unique selling proposition and saying it as simply as possible so people would remember it, he showed me the world and how not to be intimidated by it. He made me self-aware of my talents and my shortcomings. He also taught me there was no substitute for doing the work.

To this day, I love you Dale and I thank you for believing in me and giving me the chance of a lifetime.

Belated birthday wishes and hope to see you again soon!

…..

Drew Takahashi: “…he gleefully pushed me to do stuff I hated.“

After seeing you and the MTV crew took me back to good/bad old days. I realized I missed Dale Pon.

Back in the day I didn’t know he was a mentor. I only knew he gleefully pushed me to do stuff I hated. In the end I realized you and he knew what was better for me than what I knew. Someday I’ll learn my lesson.

Steve Linden and I went to shoot with Dale for WNBC [AM]. He asked us to meet him at Windows on the World bar for drinks and dinner. He showed up two hours later and Steve and I were suitably toasted. Then he insisted we join him in a very alcoholic dinner. I was so hungover the morning of the shoot I didn’t know how I could direct the talent, Don Imus. Dale apologized for needing to shoot something first so we didn’t roll my spot until the afternoon. Saved my ass.

Many more memories. The weirdest was him in the Colossal bathroom cleaning crabs of their guts for a surprise picnic in the middle of our animation camera shoot.

…..

David Hyman: “[He] always confused the waitresses.”

Here’s mine:

Dale came up with the name of my company, Gracenote.  I think that just came really easy to him.  

For a while he was a really great teacher to me. I stubbornly couldn’t take the occasional abuse that went with it, even though it was probably good for me. I was honored to be asked as the voice over for a $30 million tv ad campaign by Dale and encouraged to do voice over work. Thrilling to be informed I had career chops outside of sales & marketing.

Dale is the only person i know that would always order two margaritas for himself (at the same time). It always confused the waitresses.

.....

With Dale Pon @WHN Radio. 1977, New York City.

It was against all odds, but my late 70s stint in country music radio hooked me up with a mentor who made the difference.

Before I got to New York’s 1050 WHN, I was aware of the station. Well aware. Sometime in 1976, my friend/future partner/father of my beloved nephew and niece, Alan Goodman, asked me whether I’d seen some giant subway posters (the top photo above). Of course, I’d noticed them, with large portraits of Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, The Eagles, Charlie Pride, Loretta Lynn, Kenny Rogers, Olivia Newton-John, Linda Ronstadt and seemingly dozens of other traditional and contemporary stars of the era. There were so many, they seemed to be everywhere. And, they were gorgeous, well designed, in a sea of drop-dead-New York graffiti, hum drum posters, homeless campers and mess, standing out like nothing we’d ever seen down there before. Too bad it was for music we couldn’t stand.

After I got the job with the station’s creative director and ad man, Dale Pon (another story for another time), I found out a bit about the thinking at the station and the advertising campaign. How did a city that was the home of the most sophisticated popular music of all time –to the likes of Duke Ellington, George Gershwin, Irving Berlin, Frank Sinatra– welcome the shitkickers in and become the second most popular radio station in the United States (or the world, for that matter)?

Dale was the supremely gifted Vice President of Creative Services, and he introduced me to Ed Salamon, the station’s innovative program director (Neil Rockoff was the General Manager who brought them together), who used a Top 40 radio approach* to country radio, upending the entire (typical New Yorker’s) notion that country music hadn’t evolved since Hank Williams.

No ordinary radio promotion guy, Dale had been a media buyer at Ogilvy, a radio upstart (a mild description) when the world switched from AM to “progressive” FM, and run radio ad sales teams. In the 80s, he would go on to successfully run his own advertising agency, and together we started one of the most famous media campaigns of all time, “I Want My MTV!”).  

Dale Pon wasn’t going to promote the station as cowboy boots and hats, like the last team did. He wanted big ratings for WHN, big ratings. They all did.

* If you’re interested, Ed’s written a book that details his contrarian, and wildly successful, methods called WHN: When New York Went Country.  

WHN Radio illustrations from top to bottom, all creative direction by Dale Pon 1977: New York City subway station double truck posters (L-R) Olivia Newton-John (obscured), Linda Ronstadt, Elvis Presley; Olivia Newton-John; Kenny Rogers; Television/Radio Age cover ads; Linda Ronstadt double truck subway poster.

.....

I Want My MTV! Early 1980s, New York City.

MTV had been on the air for six months and we’d fired the storied Ogilvy & Mather and hired Dale Pon’s LPG/Pon (a joint venture with George Lois) at my insistence. Now they were presenting their first trade campaign for advertisers and cable operators and my first big decision was being called into question. America is fast becoming a land of Cable Brats! “It’s audacious! Outrageous! Just like you guys.” George Lois was a big talker, a big seller, and a bit of a smart ass, loudmouth. He was also smart. Even though I knew he designed the “cable brats” thing, it was my brilliant mentor Dale, who’d never steered me wrong creatively or strategically, who was behind the whole thing. His ex-girlfriend, and now one of my best friends, Nancy Podbielniak, had written the copy. Besides, I agreed with Dale that generally trade advertising was a waste of time and bigger waste of money. Consumers were where it’s at, and weren’t all the tradesmen we were hopping to reach consumers too? If we had a knockout punch of consumer advertising our job would be done. I knew he was keeping his powder dry for the big show.

America is fast becoming a land of Cable Brats! There’s an incorrigible new generation out there. They grew up with music. They grew up with television.  So we put ‘em both together – for the Cable Brats, and they’re taking over America! They’re men and women in the 18 to 34 age range advertisers want most – plus the increasingly important 12 to 17 segement. The Cable Brats buy all the high volume, high ticket, high tech, high profit products of modern America. They’re strong-willed, cunning, crazily impulsive – an advertiser’s peerless audience. They look and listen and they want their MTV. And they buy, buy, buy. Rock'n'Roll wasn’t enough for them – now they want their MTV. (The exploding 24-hour Video Music Cable Network (and it’s Stereo!)

George was certainly right. It was audacious, and it was a touch outrageous. Somehow, the tone wasn’t quite right, but after the crap Ogilvy had done for us, it was way better. Besides, hidden in there was the sand grain that was going to lead us to our pearl.

.....

I Want My MTV! 1982, New York City.

I WANT MY MTV! took the phenomenon that had taken over the imaginations of young America and supercharged it into a famous brand with just about everyone in the country. I just googled [in 2010]  “I Want My MTV” and it popped up almost 4,760,000 results. Pretty amazing for an advertising campaign that ceased to exist 22 years ago.* Pretty potent.   The whole thing was the work of my mentor and friend Dale Pon. He’d been my first boss in the commercial media, at WHN Radio in New York when it was a country music station. He’d recommended me for my job at Warner Amex Satellite Entertainment Company, as the production director of The Movie Channel, and eventually as the first Creative Director of MTV: Music Television. We’d fallen in and out over the years, but in late 1981, when it came time for us to hire an advertising agency again –at first, the top dog had vetoed Dale as not heavy enough for a company like ours– with a lot of help from my immediate boss Bob Pittman, I was able to convince everyone that Dale understood media promotion better than anyone else in America. Anyone. Besides, didn’t he have “insurance” with his partner, legendary adman George Lois?

Dale Pon (via MTV: The Making of a Revolution)

No one had ever encountered an ad executive like Dale, because he had the unique ability to be completely and analytically strategic –”math and magic” Pittman might call it– and be wildly, and intelligently, creative at the same time. An almost unheard of combination, especially in media advertising. Sure, he had a volatile nature, in advertising that was often a given (look at his partner). But it was his strategic, creative abilities that really set him apart.

We’d already done our first trade campaign, the “Cable Brats,“ to the discomfort of most of the suits in the corporate marketing group (Bob and his team, me included, were in programming). But Dale didn’t buy into the efficacy of trade ads anyhow, so now were onto the big show, television advertising. The only problem was that we all recognized that an effective campaign would cost about $10,000,000. Our budget only had $2,000,000, and if we didn’t spend it quickly the corporate gods would probably take it away in the fall.

"I want my Maypo” commercials, created by John Hubley

Looking back, the core creative ended up being the most straightforward part. Dale’s closest friend and creative partner, Nancy Podbielniak had written the cable brats copy and had a tag line “Rock'n'roll wasn’t enough for them – now they want their MTV!” That rung a bell in George Lois, someone who never missed a chance to abscond with someone else’s good idea, and decided to rip off his own knock off of a Maypo campaign from the 1950s and 60s (animator John Hubley originated it as a set famous animated spots, and George had unsuccessfully knocked it off using sports stars) and presented a storyboard that completely duplicated his version. Rock stars like Mick Jagger were saying “I Want My MTV” and crying like babies, implying they were spoiled children being denied. No one was buying it until Dale let me know that there was no way he’d ask Pete Townshend or Mick to cry for us. “Pride! They need to show their pride in rock'n'roll! They’ll be shouting!” After a little corporate fuss we were able to sell it in.

AMERICA! DEMAND YOUR MTV!

Now, it was the next part that was completely and utterly brilliant. Because Dale came from the school that great creative was all well and good, but unless it could move the business needle, what good was it? In this case, the needle wasn’t ratings (cable TV didn’t have ratings in 1981), but active households, distribution for MTV. Cable operators were all relatively old guys who thought The Weather Channel was a better idea; they’d turned a deaf ear to their younger employees who were clamoring for us instead.

To dramatically simplify the strategy Dale organized, he decided to only advertise in markets where:

• There was enough penetration to justify a modest ad spend.

• But where there were critically large cable operators on the fence about taking MTV.

• And that we could afford a 300 gross rating point buy (three times heavier as any consumer products agency would suggest) for at least four weeks in a row (the traditional media spend would call for pulsing 10 days on and 10 days off).

The “G” in LPG/Pon was Dick Gershon. Along with data from our affiliate group, he crunched and crunched and crunched until he came up with a list of markets and dates we could afford. It was 20% of what we needed, but everyone figured if we could really start to knock off a bunch of cable systems, get them actually launch our network, the domino effect would solidify MTV’s hold on the market forever.

Strategy in place, the creative was back on the front burner. The basic campaign was a great way to get famous rock stars endorsing our channel, but where was the close? What would actually make the 'ka-ching’ we needed? Luckily, back in the day there was only one way to for a homeowner get anything from your reluctant jerk of a cable operator (they figure they held all the cards, why should they do anything to make life better for their consumers?). And what was it that young adults loved to do? Dale knew immediately.

No one alive in front of a television set in the summer of 1982 could ever forget

Pete Townshend, with the wackiest haircut of his career, shouting at the video camera:

“America! DEMAND your MTV! Call your cable operator and say, "I WANT MY MTV!!”

We shot the spots wherever the rock stars would have us for 20 minutes (they still weren’t really sure this MTV: Music Television thing was going to be good for them). Our director and producer, Tommy Schlamme and Buzz Potamkin, got together with some puppeteers to choreograph the 'dancing’ stereo television. I asked my partner to go into the studio to edit the music sections when they weren’t rocking enough, and –poof!– famous advertising.

Nothing to it, yes?

* For comparison, “I Want My Maypo” posts 112,000 results on Google. Or “Where’s the beef?”, another famous 1980’s campaign for Wendy’s returns 176,000 (or if you only use that phrase, which has been appropriated for all sorts of uses, you get 2,640,000).

.....

“Mee, mee, me, meeee!” MTV Networks Online, 1999/2000 New York City

MTV got Sonicnet in the middle of another transaction they thought would be more important. But as the internet heated up in the business world’s consciousness, Sonicnet.com became something they thought to pay attention to. Which meant that, as president of MTV Networks Online, I was trying to help make the thing successful.

MTV had also acquired a then-unique personalized radio application. Coupled with Sonicnet, we decided an ad campaign would supercharge the site, something large media folks like us thought was necessary. (It wasn’t.*)

Over a few objections, I hired my brilliant, challenging mentor Dale Pon to create our campaign. Dale had done our the iconic “I Want My MTV” for me in the early 1980s and constantly proved himself to be the most creative and effective media ad man in America. The stunningly talented and perfectly musical film director Tim Newman was already on our online staff (after turning his back on a career that included some of the greatest music videos of all time), so he was really the only person who we thought could direct the spots. Dale hustled our head of marketing, David Hyman, into his one and only –and perfect– voice acting job. (And, I should put in a word for the Sonicnet logo. Designed by AdamsMorioka, from a concept developed by Fred Graver.

You can see for yourself that Dale knew how conceive big ideas to bring out the best from stars. With Tim in the director’s chair, the results were pretty stunning. And, to cap it, Dale really knew how to use MTVi’s clout to reach for the stars (like Isaac Hayes, James Brown, Joshua Bell, Jewel, Pat Metheny, Sheryl Crow, Beenie Man, Gang Starr, Faith Hill, Lindsey Buckingham, Don Henley, Al Jarreau, Alice Cooper, Blink 182, Kenny Wayne Shephard, Bon Jovi, Buck Cherry, Charlotte Church, Christina Acquilera, Dwight Yoakam, The Ruff Ryders, Eve, Johnny Resnick (The Goo Goo Dolls), kd lang, Buck Cherry, Kelis, Lindsey Buckingham, Melissa Etheridge, Moby, Seal, Sisqo, Static X, SheDaisy, Hillary Hahn, Charlotte Church, Yo Yo Ma, and Sting.)

This campaign, like every other one I’d worked on with Dale over the decades, was a hoot. One of the best things to come out of my one year in the early corporate internet. 

…..

* IMHO, one of the great mistakes media companies made during Web 1.0, was thinking that their traditional audience reach would give them huge advantage in building web destinations. They’d made the exact same mistake in the transition from broadcast to cable. It didn’t occur to them in either era that a basic misunderstanding of the newest medium –not knowing what the audience wanted from the upstarts– would not attract anyone to their websites.

And, by the by, the same mistake has been made from popular websites bungling the transition to mobile. And, so it goes.

[timelvss]

Love Heist

parings: lee taeyong | ft. some nct kids 

genre: criminal!au / romance, angst

warnings: language, gore (mentions of blood) 

word count: 11.4k 

description: and suddenly a switch inside taeyong flipped, that wasn’t your boyfriend anymore but there was no chance you were letting him do this alone.

author’s note: this fic has been in the works since about august of last year, it was meant to be a halloween fic but that didn’t happen..... anyways, i would really appreciate feedback on it, it’s literally my favorite fic i’ve written so far and thank you for waiting for it :( shout out to my pals for reading it and helping me through it 

At the moment you hadn’t thought about how bad things really were until now that you saw the familiar gun laying on the floor across from the coffee table and a couple of bullet shells laying around it. To say the apartment you both were in was a mess was an understatement, there was glass shattered across the floor (from the tiny coffee table that used to stand) and papers scattered all over the floor. Not that it was your own apartment, but it was still a pain to look at the mess that surrounded you. There was multiple questionable stains on your clothes that annoyed you and your body ached of exhaustion but someone had to keep a watch while the other slept. How did it get like this? you mentally asked yourself as your eyes wandered to the man whose head was in your lap. His hair was now a bloody red color instead of the brown one he cared so much for back then. He almost looked peaceful while he slept, his hands were bloodied and you could only remember his smirk across his lips as he pulled the trigger on the stranger in the bathroom. 

  It all began when you met him, the stranger who somehow turned your life around with just a look. He was the boy with the pretty smile and gentle eyes that everyone seemed to love, he always seemed like the kind of guy you’d bring home to your parents. When you met him at the bookstore he was holding an HTML & CSS3 for Dummies that you remember pointing out, while on the other hand you were holding the latest book in the Percy Jackson series. The both of you talked about your picks and were soon exchanging numbers. That’s how it began, simple. 

On the many dates the both of you shared, the two of you learnt plenty of things about the other. For example, Taeyong actually dropped out of MIT in the middle of his senior year just to join the opening of the local paper in their IT position while you on the other hand had barely graduated with an english degree. Despite your degree, you still doubted your whole literature knowledge once you graduated. He also shared his hobbies and interests with you, like how he enjoyed singing and making up raps on his free time to avoid the stress of crashing networks and moving hundreds of files to newer servers. Taeyong was the main IT guy in not just only your local paper but in the ones surrounding your small town, usually this meant that he traveled a lot from city to city.

Soon after meeting Taeyong the local newspaper started printing various articles saying that multiple chain large businesses were losing money by the millions in a matter of minutes every other night. Well, they weren’t exactly losing money, it was more like it was being stolen but no one knew exactly how it was being done besides it being through online transactions. The police was doing everything in its power to track the online transfers that were being done but the hacker of the crimes left little to no clues regarding his identity or location. A few days after the online transfers were posted on the newspaper, they posted a new story that detailed the findings of the money at various places scattered around town and even at the entrance of surrounding towns nearby. The money was always found in balloons that were filled with hundreds of bills stuffed inside them, which could only make you smile. These balloons were found at homeless shelters, orphanages, churches and places that desperately needed money yet no one knew the one who was doing it.

  The unknown transactions were soon discovered at various computer cafes throughout the city, though whoever was doing it left no track of which computer was used even when all of them were thoroughly checked. This only led more papers to mock the city police, its investigators, and for the person doing the robberies to take advantage of the popularity and go to bigger things. While all of this was happening you lived a quiet life and chose to stay out of these sort of things, though listening to the story unfold was kind of a guilty pleasure. When you and Taeyong would meet up at various places, the both of you would talk about the events and how your lives were. 

“You know, this person doing all of this can’t be all bad if they are literally handing out money to the ones in need,” you said as the both of you walked down the street nearing the small cafe on the corner.

“That’s what I think too, they must have a good heart.” You could only nod at Taeyong’s words as you leaned into him to take his hand in yours, smiling up at the man beside you.

  The next time you found yourself with Taeyong, you were laying down beside him on his bed. Your legs were lazily laying on top of his trying to warm up your toes as he read through one of his many computer books. One of his hands was resting on your thigh and his finger kept on tracing shapes on your skin while the other held up the book. The tv played in the background while you scrolled through various apps of social media, humming softly a tune that was stuck in your head. Neither of you were paying attention until the tv beeped with an alarm sound, making the both of you look over at it. Breaking News flashed across the TV and the image quickly shifted towards the anchor and a person on the field.

“Good night, this is N.City News and I am your anchor Moon Taeil. We bring you this breaking news to follow up the recent robberies occurring around town. Today at 1:27 pm, an alarm went off in our main offices with a banner that said, ‘We’re coming soon.’ Nothing of such was discussed with anyone outside our offices but tonight at 12:07am, money started raining from the air vents. We were told we are not the only place where this is happening, here we have our junior in training Huang Renjun to fill you in.”

The image shifted from the regular anchor to a younger man (though he still reminded you of a baby) holding a microphone up while police cars were around the building behind him. Your eyebrows only furrowed at the image trying to figure out what it was, but the blue and red lights were making it a little hard to focus. A small gasp came out of your lips as you looked at the building behind the guy. It was the pet shelter you’d always volunteer for, you remember taking Taeyong there with you and watching him play with the kittens. You found yourself smiling at the thought, but quickly shaking your head and looked back at the screen to keep up with the news.

“-right, Taeil, the money was also pouring out of air vents but in this case it was fixed so it wouldn’t fall on any of the cages. No money was thrown in with the animals yet the offices in the back along with the bathrooms and lobby were all flooded with thousands of one hundred dollar bills. The police are trying to gather as much of the cash as possible before the morning when it opens, but as they keep up picking it up the vents keep on pouring out  more. We have firefighters trying to figure out which pipe in the back it is so no sprinklers will go off.” 

As the Renjun kid finished the image was switched back to the one with Taeil, his hands neatly placed on the desk in front of him. “From what we were told by the authorities this recent heist of this robber was done from various unknown servers across the city causing it to be very difficult to almost impossible to narrow the search down a single one. We will keep you up-” before the achor’s sentence was done, Taeyong flipped the channel leaving you wondering about the rest of the story. 

  Being with Taeyong was something you never intended to happen, it just sort of did. His hand was always in yours and your lips always found their way to his, wanting more of him than what was probably healthy. That’s why it came as no surprise when he finally asked you to move in with him after eight whole months of officially dating and almost a year of just knowing each other. He shared every single one of his secrets with you and you confided in him all of yours. So there you were packing up the last of the boxes of your belongings, brown boxes scattered all over your living room as your best friend Ten helped you pack the mugs out of your kitchen.

“I can’t believe you’re actually moving in with this guy,”

“Ten, we’ve known him for almost two years please, also he’s literally one of your friends,” you gave Ten a look and he only shrugged at your comment before sticking his tongue out at you, continuing to wrap mugs in newspaper. You had introduced Taeyong to Ten after a few weeks of you guys officially dating, mostly because you wanted Ten to stop asking who was making you smile.

“Be nice to me or I’ll break your favorite unicorn mug.”

  Moving in with Taeyong was fairly easy to your surprise, he showed you nothing but love towards you which only made you feel welcomed. Now here three months later, you felt bored out of your mind stuck between the four walls of the empty apartment at almost midnight. It had become a habit of Taeyong’s to go with his friends every other thursday night for drinks and friendly bowling tournaments. He never came home drunk, but there was always a smile on his face when he returned. He also kind of sucked at bowling but you were still very supportive when he told you the stories when the both of you shared dinner. Every now and then you wanted to join your boyfriend on his bowling adventures but you always decided to give him a bit of space.

The following friday it was announced on the news that another robbery was done at the local branch of the bank in the middle of town, it was one of the bigger banks that had been targeted as of yet. By now the media had started calling this person the Robin Hood which only made you smile internally, he was really stealing money from the rich and giving it to the ones in need. His tactic wasn’t the right one but you knew he had good intentions which is why, secretly, you didn’t really want him to get caught. Of course, due to all the money being lost the police were heavy on his tracks, every other day they would do a press conference or maybe publish a comment on how they were getting closer to a lead. It had been published all over that millions of different bills had been written over and they all said, ‘you fools, i wish you luck trying to hunt me down’. Different newspapers published the news and it was also talked about in the evening news. The money was either left inside balloons or it somehow poured through the vents. There was so much money, that you couldn’t see the floor in some of these places, that was the only thing that never changed. 

“Hey love, I’m home,” Taeyong said as he slipped into the tiny apartment, your eyes followed the sound of his voice and noticed him taking off his shoes, “Did you miss me?” a cocky grin spread over Taeyong’s lips as he moved towards you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. 

You could only smile, this time he wasn't home as late as he usually was and you could only be thankful, it just meant you had more time with your boyfriend. “I don't know, you barely gave me time to miss you.” Taeyong walked towards the couch and flopped down next to you, stretching out his legs on the coffee table while you tucked your legs under yourself. The book in your lap soon forgotten as Taeyong placed a kiss on your forehead and turned the tv on. 

“Yes, Taeil, from what we were told, the latest heist of this robber was done three nights ago from, again, from various unknown servers across the city. Just like the previous ones, it’s been causing it to be very difficult, nearly impossible, to narrow the search down a single one. For what they have done, it’s been said by the authorities that this heist was of about half a million dollars, their biggest heist as of now. Although, only twenty five thousand have been given out so far to the local animal shelter this morning. In the usual way of balloons being filled with multiple hundred dollar b-” before the reporter’s sentence was done, Taeyong flipped the channel, leaving you wondering about the rest of the story again. 

“How was work?” you asked Taeyong as you let your legs stretch over his lap. Taeyong’s hands moved over your legs, massaging them softly as he turned to face you with a small smile playing on his lips.

“It was fine, Jungwoo was goofing off with the new intern. I think his name is Luke or something like that, I wasn't paying much attention when Doyoung was introducing him to me.” 

The rest of the evening went slow as the both of you shared the rest of your previous activities with each other. From how Yeri sent the wrong email to your boss to how this Luke kid made the printer print five hundred pictures of his cat. You could only smile at the stories Taeyong told you, but soon he was standing up and stretching as he tugged his shirt off in front of you. “I’m going to go shower, I’ll meet you in the bedroom,”

“Sounds good, I’m gonna clean up this mess of papers and I’ll meet you there.” 

  The apartment to begin with was not messy, the both of you always made sure to keep everything tidy. Which was something you picked up from Taeyong early on when you moved in. Not that he was a super clean freak but he liked things to be tidy and clean, which was why the pile of papers on your dining table were burning holes into the back of your head. Bringing the stack of papers with you to the couch, you flipped the channel back to the news which were talking about the weather. While putting the papers in two piles (the keep pile and the trash pile) your eyes caught one with fancy letters. The paper read, ‘you fools, I wish you luck trying to hunt me down’ written over and over again all over the paper in bright colored letters. Your eyes glanced back at the tv which displayed the paper that they had found earlier in the week, the same words plastered on the white piece of paper. 

There was a moment where you could only hear your heartbeat in your ears because there was just no way your loving and caring boyfriend could be doing these robberies all across town. There was just no way it was possible. Taeyong, pulling off a robbery? It was impossible, your boyfriend was too gentle. Shaking your head you folded the paper and hid it under one of the cushions on the sofa, hurrying through the rest of the stack and making your way to the bedroom. Desperately trying to forget about the existence of the paper.

Now, you wouldn’t call yourself a stalker, but after finding that paper there was always a nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Which is why on that same thursday, you found yourself in a rental car following Taeyong’s old Camery down the streets of the city. He had called you earlier to let you know he’d be coming home late since he was meeting up with his friends at the bowling alley. Which he did, only he had left twenty minutes after he had arrived there with a laptop he did not come with under his arm. Your eyebrows furrowed as Taeyong got back into his car and drove away from the bowling alley and towards the small internet cafe near the cafe place the both of you went on your first date. At this location, Taeyong lasted a total of six minutes inside the cafe and walked back outside a small bag in hand and no laptop within sight. 

After driving an hour to the edge of town trying to keep up with Taeyong’s hectic driving, he pulled up to a bank, but by this point he was no longer wearing his usual work clothes. A long black coat that went down to his knees covered most of him, he matched it all with black pants, a black tee, and some expensive looking black dress shoes. Although it wasn’t out of the ordinary for Taeyong to wear all black, it was to see him in slicked hair, he never did that. It was a new look on him and you could only feel a blush creep over your cheeks as your eyes followed the man. There was a black mask that covered half of his face but through the small binoculars you brought, but you could see the small scar on the corner of his eye. 

This Taeyong that walked inside the bank, he had another aura you had not seen on your boyfriend which made you curious and a little scared. Soon enough there was a bright light followed by a bang that made you jump in your seat. There were thoughts flying across your head, making you rub your eyes in frustration. This wasn’t your Taeyong. It just couldn’t be. Your thoughts were broken when you saw Taeyong walk back out of the bank, balloons filled with money in both of his hands and a splatter of red dots across his face. 

When Taeyong returned that night you were already in bed, he leaned over to press a kiss to your cheek and walked into the bathroom to shower. You had never paid much attention to his smell when he came home from his outings but somehow he now reeked of iron and you knew exactly why. Biting down on your lip, you made your way down to the living room, lifting the cushion on the couch your fingers shakily grabbed the paper you had hid days prior. The only difference now was that it was folded in more folds than when you had left it. Weird. Another thing that was different now, though, was instead of the taunting ‘you fools, i wish you luck trying to hunt me down’ it read, ‘you should know better, love’ in black ink right in the middle of the paper, covering all of the colored words. 

“You know, it’s not right to go through someone else’s things without permission, my love,” you heard Taeyong from behind you as you folded the paper back, holding it close to your chest. There was a small twinge of fear crawling up your chest but there was also another feeling that you couldn’t explain. There was something else that made your stomach flutter. You could only let out the breath you had been holding before turning to face your boyfriend. “I guess, it could be counted as an illegal activity,”

“Taeyo-”

“No, you don’t get to talk. You almost ruined the heist, thank god Mark saw you at the car rental place. We can’t let you ruin what we started, it’s gone too far and we need to finish this once and for all. Now, if you want to leave, I can’t say it won’t hurt but as long as you keep your pretty mouth shut you’ll be fine. Otherwise, I’ll be your nightmare, you know,” Taeyong shrugged as if he wasn’t just threatening your life, more as if he had just told you to wash the dishes or something. 

“I don’t,” you said but quickly shut your mouth trying to think of how to phrase the next sentence you were trying to say in your head, “I don’t want to leave,”

A small flash of something flashed over Taeyong’s eyes, you didn’t know if it was hope or maybe something darker hidden behind his brown eyes. You weren’t paying much attention to what he was wearing, but in the corner of your eye you saw that in his left hand he was holding a black gun with silver letters engraved on the side. A shiver ran down your spine but you couldn’t avoid the small feeling of excitement that bubbled inside of you as Taeyong brought the gun to the middle of your chest, “You saw what I did, why do you still want to stay?” 

“Because,” you swallowed the small lump in your throat as you began to move closer towards Taeyong. The gun still between the both of you, opening your mouth and softly whispering only loud enough for him to hear you, “I love you,”

There was a small pause between the both of you and then Taeyong moved the gun under your chin, the cool metal feeling cold against your skin. The gun’s muzzle dug into your chin as Taeyong tilted your head up so you could meet his dark eyes “Ah, you love me,”

“Taeyo-“

Before you could let out another word you felt Taeyong’s soft lips over yours, there was something else that wasn’t there before last time you kissed him. A small groan slipped past your lips as you pushed Taeyong up to the wall nearest to you, your lips still attached to each other’s. There was a smirk playing on Taeyong’s lips as he pulled back only turn you over, one of his hands grabbing both of yours and pinning them up above your head. With a slight chuckle Taeyong brought the gun back up to your face, the exposed barrel on it stroking your cheek softly, “Ah, my stupid little girl, I love you,” 

“Tae, please listen, I know what you’re doing is not the right thing but I promise you I’m not here to rat you out. I don’t know why you’re doing this but you’re giving money to the poor, you’re helping some people at least so I’m not mad. I just, I wanted the truth,”

“We’ll see.”

  After the talk the both of you shared, Taeyong no longer hid this other part of his life with you. On the contrary, he seemed to be more at peace, leaving his ammunition on the coffee table and many other guns in plain sight over the counter. There was also more of those all black outfits he wore in his closet, but all of them were spotless clean and they even smelled like his after shave. There was a small part of you that wanted to know what he did when he was gone with his friends on his outings, but there was just no way you could ask. Your thoughts were disturbed when a knocking on the door caught you off guard. Sighing you walked towards the door and opened it to find a boy with dark black hair standing there with a slanted smile over his lips.

“Hey, is Taeyong in?” The boy across from you asked as he waved at you and then shoved his hands inside his pockets, you looked at him and then back towards the hallway.

“Yeah, he was just finishing up some work from the newspaper but he is in his office,” you said moving out of the way for the boy in front of you to go down the hallway towards his office. 

“Thanks, by the way, my name is Mark.” 

Your eyes followed the new boy into your house, there was something familiar about the boy walking down the hallway. Thinking back to the previous dates that you and Taeyong shared, you vaguely remembered this Mark boy calling Taeyong in the middle of dinner. Making your way back to your bedroom, you remembered a couple of more people that were in Taeyong’s small friend group. There was a guy with pink hair that reminded you of cherry blossoms, another man who spoke Japanese on the phone while you visited Taeyong in his office. There was also another man who looked a bit older than Taeyong who spoke mandarin on the phone while you were dropping off lunch to Taeyong in his office. All of these guys worked with Taeyong at the newspaper office on a regular basis so you never gave it much thought besides them being his friends.

“Yo, TY,” you heard Mark say as he walked inside Taeyong’s office, you were trying not to eavesdrop on their conversation but his office was right on the other side your bedroom.

Through the wall you heard Taeyong sigh, you could already see him rubbing his temples, “Lee, what are you doing here? I told you not to bring business to my house,”

“Listen dude, I know the boundaries but this new heist we’re pulling needs more planning than what we have so far. This is the biggest one we’re about to do so far and we need to clear out some technical issues that we might have with the program. Kun has been trying to smooth out any bugs and Yuta has been trying to find armory within our sellers in Japan in case of an emergency. Jae has been keeping tabs on all the security around the SM building in case we have to bail and run,” 

“First of all, Mark, we’re not going to bail and run. Second, this has to work out because they have to go down, you know all the mess they made cost the city and everyone who got left behind. Third, after this one we’re moving towns anyways so it doesn’t matter. You, me, Y/N and everybody else so we leave no trace. Remember that we all stick together no matter what.” You could almost picture Taeyong’s frustrated face as he finished his sentence. There was a feeling inside your chest from the end of Taeyong’s speech. Was Taeyong really going to take you with him no matter what? You had already told him that you weren’t going to tell the authorities regardless if you stayed with him or not, but apparently that didn’t matter. 

“You’re taking Y/N? But man, what if she doesn’t want to go. Are we still taking her no matter what?” at the end of this question you heard another emotion in Mark’s words, something along the lines of empathy for you regardless if he knew you or not.

“She knows too much at this point for us to consider it being an option, she’s coming whether she wants to or not.” When Taeyong finished talking, you couldn’t bear to hear any more of what came out of his mouth, there was just no point to it. That wasn’t the boy you started dating yet, regardless, you still loved him. 

  After meeting Mark, the rest of Taeyong’s friends found their way to your house whenever they had a question about a certain topic that could not be named. You quickly learnt their names and faces and what they provided for Taeyong. For example, Yuta was head of armory and he consisted in getting all of the guns and rifles they needed for whatever reason. On the other hand, Mark was kind of all over the place, he was pretty much Taeyong’s assistant. Second in hand if you please. Jaehyun was in charge of investigating all of the places they were taking down one by one, looking at them for weeks on end in order to know all of their patterns so none of the heists would go down hill. Kun, was some sort of a computer genius who dropped out of high school for some unknown reason they wouldn’t tell you why yet. You barely talked to any of the boys, only when they spoke to you first and it was basically for a hello or can I have something out of the fridge? kind of situation. Last but not least there was Taeyong, he was the leader of all these operations and, for some reason, he hated SM with all his heart.

The more you thought of it, you didn’t really know much about Taeyong besides his current status. He never talked about his family like you did. He knew that your mom and dad lived in the country, pretty much living on the farm most of their life. You pretty much broke their heart when you moved to the city to start something new. Sighing, you glanced towards the front door where Taeyong was just walking in with a new laptop under his arm. 

“Hey love,” 

“Hi,” The relationship you both had been a little jagged since you found out about his nightly routines. It wasn’t that you were extremely pissed off, you just wanted to know the truth instead of being hidden in the dark.

“Y/N, I know our relationship has been suffering for the past couple of weeks since you found out about everything, and I’d like to say I’m sorry for that. I never meant to take you into my mess but now that you’re part of it, you’re going to have to run with us,” he stopped talking for a quick second taking, in your reaction and softly sighing when he saw you tense up, “So for the next week you’re going to be training with Yuta on how to hold and shoot a gun properly. I can’t have you not knowing what to do in case of an emergency or if something happens to me in this new heist.”

The thought of Taeyong not coming back to you was one of the scariest things you had ever thought about. There was a feeling of worry at the pit of your stomach that only made you want to puke. Sighing to yourself, you looked back at the man in front of you, nodding at his words. 

“If there is no other choice, I guess I’ll have to do it,” you said as your arms crossed over your chest, meanwhile all Taeyong could do is give you a sigh. 

“I don’t want you to have to look at it from that point of view, I’m only doing what’s better for your safety,” he replied to you, dropping his keys in the small bowl in the coffee table in front of you. 

You could only roll your eyes at his words as he sat down next to you on the couch. Keeping your eyes focused on the tv as you spoke, “Well, if you were not doing all of this we wouldn’t have to be there in the first place,”

From the corner of your eyes you saw Taeyong clench his jaw shut, his lips turning into a thin line before he talking to you once again, “You have no idea all the pain that they’ve cost me, it was only a matter of time before somebody did something about all of their crimes. Only somehow I ended up being the first one to man up and do something about it.”

“Then explain to me, what did they do so bad that you have to do all these things including killing people?” 

“I didn’t kill anyone, I have just hurt them a little or...” Taeyong only struggled when you finish the sentence. It only reminded you of one of the previous conversations you’ve  both shared, much like when he first told you when you found out.

“That’s not the point Taeyong, all I want to know is why you’re doing all of this? Why are you getting your hands bloodied in this mess?”

“Because it cost me everything that my family had, for the same reason that my sister passed away three years ago due to the fact that I could not provide enough money to keep her alive. The fact that my dad lost his business when he decided to join in partnership with SM and them stealing from right under his nose without him knowing. All of that and we were not the only family that they’ve done this to. With Jaehyun, his mom passed away five years ago to some cancer from working at the factory SM ran in their town. Yuta had to travel all the way here to hunt them down when they destroyed his town when some chemicals leaked into the water system. All of us have something we want justice for, this is not for nothing.” With that, Taeyong walked away from you and towards the bedroom not saying another word to you or even sparing you a second glance.

  After this new argument you had with Taeyong, you couldn’t help but to feel guilty about everything he had just said to you. The truth is, you wanted to know everything but so far you knew enough to know where he was coming from. You knew Taeyong was not the hard, stone cold person he appeared to be, he was soft and very sentimental inside. That was the man that you had fallen in love with and still loved regardless of his actions now. 

Walking from the living room back to the kitchen, your eyes widened at the figure standing in front of your fridge. There was Mark, rummaging through the fridge looking for something to eat. “Jesus, Mark, could you at least make yourself noticeable when you’re in the house?”

“Well, I heard you and Taeyong arguing again and I didn’t want to disturb you two in the middle of it. I didn’t want to be that person,” Mark said as he took a bite of the apple in his left hand. Shrugging, he walked over towards you and jumped up to sit on the counter, looking back at you as he leaned his head back on the cabinets behind his head. “Listen, I know it’s none of my business but you should really cut the guy some slack. He’s not a bad person, it's just the way his whole life changed from one day to the next that made him the way he is. You probably don’t believe me but I’ve known him for a while now, I used to live next-door to him and his sister used to babysit me. I know way more than I should probably know about him and it’s not my place to tell you what happened but he is kind of traumatized,”

With your shoulders slumped, you sighed as Mark finished his sentence. After all Taeyong had just told you part of the reason why he was doing these things. The only thing is, you wanted to know the whole thing not just part and you needed Taeyong to tell that to you, “I just want the truth Mark, I don’t want anymore secrets. If I’m in this for a while now, I want to know everything. I don’t want anything to be hidden from me anymore,”

“He didn’t tell you the details yet but he told you the most important stuff and that’s all you need to know. At this point, the less you know the better, trust me, he’s doing it for your own safety.” With that, Mark jumped off the counter and walked down the hallway towards Taeyong’s office, closing the door after him. 

  Walking back towards your shared bedroom with Taeyong, you found him going over some papers in his lap, his glasses riding on the bridge of his nose as he glanced over towards you. He said nothing but went back to the piles of papers scattered on the bed, there were different sticky notes on each pile and you couldn’t help but smile. “Give me a few minutes to get this sorted and then we can go to bed,”

“That’s fine, but uh, I actually wanted to apologize,” you said after letting out an awkward cough from the back of your throat. Taeyong’s eyes flew up to meet yours, there was a small twinkle you had almost forgotten was there, “Mark said some stuff to me and I know he’s right, I just don’t like to admit things to myself sometimes and I’m sorry,”

A small sigh slipped past his lips as he set down the papers in his hands, getting up from the bed and walking over towards you. His hands found their way to their spot on your hips as you leaned more into him unconsciously, “My love, as much as you frustrate me to the point where I want to put a gun up to your chest, again, I’d rather die than to be here without you. I know you want to know many things about this but I also don’t want to put you in danger due to your knowledge,”

“I know that, but I also want you to know whenever you finally want to talk about it, that I'm here with my ears wide open to listen,” you nodded as you finished your sentence, glancing back up to the man in front of you.

A small smile spread over Taeyong’s lips as he nodded along with you, his hands moving from the spot on your hips to hold your face in his hands. His fingers moving over your cheeks as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips before speaking again, “Do you know how much I love you?”

“I might need a refresher actually,” you answered while your own lips tugged into a smile, moving your hands around his neck. It had been a bit too long since you and Taeyong had shared a moment like this but suddenly the feeling hit you, this was home. He was your home. 

“I love you.”

“I love you more.” 

  After a long training session with Yuta, you let yourself flop down on the couch next to Taeyong who was busy typing away on the keyboard in front of him. Jaehyun and Kun were busy in Taeyong’s office trying to contact some server in Russia to avoid leaving any traces behind on this new heist. There were plenty of guns laid out on the dining table and by now, you knew how to disassemble each and every single one of them and put them back together. Being part of this was not too bad but the work on your body was exhausting, Taeyong told you to quit your job due to the fact that all of you were leaving after this was over which was exactly what you did. Taeyong’s hand reached over to yours, your palm was now covered in calluses which made him frown and traced over the harsh marks on your soft skin. 

“New ones?”

Shaking your head, you could only turn to look at him, hair sticking to your forehead from the sweat, “I don’t think so, the old ones just burst when Yuta went to train me over hidden knives and gu-”

“Jesus, Yuta! I told you basics for crying out loud, not the entire thing. At least not yet, couldn’t you have waited until we were out of here?” Groaning, Taeyong let his laptop fall shut and he walked over towards the dining room where Yuta was cleaning out the nuzzle in one of the rifles. “What the hell happened to basics?”

You could only picture Yuta rolling his eyes at Taeyong as you followed behind, “A hidden knife could be the difference between her being alive or dead in a matter of seconds TY,” There was something else in Taeyong’s eyes when he starred directly at the man sitting down in front of him, “Plus, you need to chill. You’ve been a pain in everyone’s ass lately, we know what we’re doing remember?” 

By the end of Yuta’s sentence you only wanted to sigh but instead you took Taeyong’s hand, you lead him back to your bedroom. Giving him a small smile as he sat down on the mattress in the middle of the floor. There were boxes surrounding the both of you from the move but you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough to continue packing the remaining of your belongings while Taeyong was like this. Clothes were still in your closet and there was plenty of books scattered on the floor that went from computer science to kamasutra positions. That was a book which you were shy to show to Taeyong when the both of you started getting too comfortable in the routine. A blush covered you cheeks at the memory of it but your thoughts were soon broken apart by Taeyong who was tugging on your shirt. 

“Have I really been an asshole lately?” he asked in a small voice as he looked up at you, this look on him always reminded you of a baby kitten which only made your insides melt.

“A little, but we all know you’re on the edge lately so we let it slide.” you replied as you sat down next to him, taking his hand in yours and giving it a small squeeze. You knew it wasn’t much but he needed the reassurance in every way possible and you were there to give it to him even if you didn’t think it was such a good idea.

“It’ll all be over soon, just think of it that way.” The way he said it only made the hairs on your arms stand up and your insides feel like they were being turned inside out, but you could only nod and put on a brave face. 

  You had never seen Taeyong get himself ready for one of his missions but seeing him turn from your adorable boyfriend to this emotionless human was something you would never forget. As he traded in his usual skinny jeans for some pants that looked as if they were a mix between sweatpants and cargo pants you noticed the twinkle in his eyes start to shut down. There was no sign of remorse in his eyes and the thought of Taeyong being this person scared you a little bit, not that you would ever tell anyone but that made you aware of every single move he made. There were knives and guns hidden throughout his body in case of any emergencies, while he was still going to be carrying a gun on each of his hands. The long black trench coat you had seen before was on his shoulders once again and this time there was a black turtleneck sweater that covered his torso up to his neck. There was also a skin tight bullet proof vest underneath but it was barely visible under the sweater. His black dress shoes were traded in for black military boots as he walked towards you, handing you your own black outfit. There was something in his eyes when his eyes met yours that reminded you of the old Taeyong but that was quickly gone as he turned to look at the rest of the guys who were already dressed in black. You could only nod as you let them talk, Taeyong giving them a brief pep talk to lead them into this. Biting down on your lip, you walked out of the office and towards your now empty room to change. 

The outfit Taeyong had given you was nothing out of the ordinary, black cargo sweatpants like his, a black tshirt, the vest that was meant to go under your shirt, and a black bomber that was similar to Mark’s. Getting dressed was the easy part but as you tied the military boots you realized how this was about to go down, you were about to go rob a fucking company for crying out loud. Looking back at the mirror, you grabbed your matching face mask and turned towards Taeyong who was standing in the door, no face mask but instead a black bandana covering half of his face. 

“I never thought you’d look this good in this outfit,” he let out a small chuckle as he took your hand, bringing it up to his face and giving it a kiss through the cloth. “Ready to go, princess?” 

Making your way down to the middle of town and through the streets that you used to call home, you were now sealing your ticket deal out of there with no chance of return. You took a look at the people around you, Taeyong who was on the driver’s seat with Mark on his right talking to him about some new video game he had found. Kun and Jaehyun were talking about the security on the bank while Yuta was putting ammo into the guns they were bringing in. Sighing to yourself, you looked down at your hands and thought about everything that was about to happen. 

“Remember, you are only to come out of the van in case of emergencies but there will be none. Is that understood?” Taeyong said as he sat right in front of you as you tied your shoe laces on the combat boots on your feet. “You are to have a gun and a knife on you at all times, even when we walk out of this place. You are to wear the chip in your ear for us to make contact if we get separated and for either of us to know your location,”

“Tae, I got it, don’t worry. We’ll be fine,”

“You don’t get it, you’re everything I need and I’m putting you on the line here. Honestly, I’d be nothing without you and I can’t lose you,”

The memory floated on your mind as the car parked about two blocks away from the bank, Taeyong turning to look at all of you while he pulled the bandana back over his face. All of them nodded to each other before Taeyong turned to look at you, there was a soft look in his eyes as he pointed to his mask telling you to put yours on. After the cloth was over your face Taeyong, Mark, Jaehyun, and Yuta made their way outside. They all walked different ways while Jaehyun ran towards the nearest building climbing up the escape stairs and up towards the roof. Kun stayed back with you in order to use the computer to retrieve all the wired money.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be fine.” Kun said as you looked through the window at the man walking away from you. You could only nod as Taeyong walked towards the building, his mask covering half of his face but the scar at the corner of his eye was there. His hands were tucked inside the pockets of his coat, he looked powerful as he took long strides into the building. 

It must have been at least ten minutes before you heard two gunshots making the hair on your arms stand up. Your eyes could only look between Kun and the building where the rest of the boys were. There was a beeping on one of the many screens and Kun quickly pressed the bluetooth in his ear, “Jaehyun! Listen, you can’t just ru- no, get Yuta to help! Taeyong said she was not to get involved!” as the last words came out of Kun’s mouth you were already getting out of the van, only for his hand to reach back to you. “Goddammit Y/N, you can’t go,”

“Kun, let me go, I can help!” you tugged your arm back from his grip only to see him groan and let you go. His hand pushing his hair back from his face and shaking his head, a sigh escaping his lips as he turned towards the screen. 

“Listen, go help them get Mark out and I’ll pull up the van in the front. Most of the money is already wired anyways.” 

  Nodding, you took off running towards the building, the cool breeze felt refreshing against your clothed skin. There was an adrenaline rush entering your bloodstream as you made your way up the steps, fixing your hair before pulling the door open. There were two police men holding guns towards Taeyong who was in front of a wounded Mark who was holding his side, a pool of red was starting to spread under him. Oh fuck. Everyone’s eyes were suddenly on you as your feet kicked some glass away from your path. Taeyong’s eyes narrowed at you making you only nod as your hands glided along your sides pulling out two of the many hidden knives on you. 

The only thing you could think of was of how Yuta had taught you to throw weeks prior to this. Your eyes focused on the two men in blue who stood in front of you before the knives made their way out of your grip. They landed on the strip of skin visible between their ironed shirts and their chin as small drops of dark red blood slowly dribbled out, soon becoming a steady stream of red liquid. Your eyes flickered between Taeyong and the gasping men in front of him that reached for him with bloody hands. Panic settled at the pit of your stomach as you realized what you had done, your hands were soon trying to take off the mask that seemed to take away the oxygen from your lungs.

“Yong!” you heard Yuta’s voice from somewhere behind you. Soon enough Taeyong was in front of you, pushing your hands away from your face and fixing the mask back. Your eyes went from Taeyong’s form in front of you to where Jaehyun was getting Mark up with the help of Yuta, leaving a trail of red as they walked towards the doors. It had only been a couple of seconds but you could hear the police sirens starting to near, that was when you felt a tug on your arm.

“Listen darling, I love you but, we gotta go. Now.” 

Time felt like as if it were dragging as you slowly walked with Taeyong towards the doors, as you started shaking your head trying to get out of the daze you were still in. Taeyong’s hand was in yours and giving it a comforting squeeze, meanwhile you walked a bit faster to keep up with him as the both of you made it out. Jaehyun and Yuta were now getting into the van as various police cars started pulling up closer to the building. Taeyong pressed the small bluetooth chip in his ear and started speaking as bright red lights started getting closer, “You guys have to go, get Mark patched up. Me and Y/N will find a way to meet you guys, just go.” 

From the small chip in your ear you heard Jaehyun scoffing, “As if, run. We can still get away,” Taeyong shook his head and flicked his finger towards the nearest empty street, you could barely see but Kun only nodded and started driving off. There was more arguing from the bluetooth but you knew Kun wasn’t going to stop, “Fuck Taeyong, you better keep yourself alive.”

The next thing you saw was Taeyong pulling out the small device and stepping on it, you copied his actions and did the same with yours. The police was now less than fifty feet away from the both of you which is when he finally turned to you, “We gotta run, see that silver car? You are to get in as soon as I get it unlocked,”

“Got it.” The both of you ran as shouts from the police started coming in, you could only swallow the lump in your throat as your legs moved the fastest they had in awhile. Taeyong was a couple of steps in front of you, his hand digging inside his pockets and finally pulling out his favorite gun. As Taeyong stopped at the driver’s side of the car, the butt of the gun met the window, shattering the glass in many little pieces. His hand went to unlock the doors which only made you get in as soon as you could only, this was when bullets started making sounds against the metal. 

“Fuck.” You heard Taeyong mutter as he started working on some cables from under the steering wheel. Peaking your head back towards the window, your eyes locked on a few officers that were slowly moving around the car with their guns aimed at the both of you. 

“Tae, you gotta move a little faster please,” you whispered as you grabbed one of the guns that was strapped against your thigh, biting down on your lip as your fingers found their way towards the hammer. Tugging on it back before you made yourself aim towards the people coming towards you. The police were less than ten feet away, crowding around the car as the engine finally roared to life. A shaky breath escaping from your lips as relief washed over you, turning to look at Taeyong who was busy driving away from the scene. “Oh, thank god.”

“As long as you got me, we’ll find a way out.” Taeyong said as he reached over to take your hand in his. His hand was a little rough from earlier and there was blood caked under his nails but you didn’t seem to care anymore. You were part of his world and you had to learn to accept it. Though there was still a nagging feeling eating you alive, but you chose not to pay attention to that. 

  The both of you had been on the road for two hours, the radio kept going in and out about the robbery. Of course, the police were still trying to locate the car the both of you were escaping in so there was still something to worry about. Rubbing your eyes, you could only sigh and look out the window, but your eyebrows soon furrowed when you turned into an apartment complex you hadn’t recognized. Looking around, you tried to locate yourself before turning to Taeyong who was pulling up the mask once again to cover his face.

“Stay here, look at that window on the corner. When you see me turn on the light you can come in,” he stated as he pulled the silencer on his gun and carefully put it on the barrel. You could only nod as the gun was put back into his coat and he made his way out of the car, walking up the stairs into the second floor. A couple of minutes passed by before there was a small bang that sounded barely audible from where you were and then a few seconds later the light was turned on. You brought your hand to your hair, pulling off the hair tie and letting your hair fall down your shoulders as if to cover your face as you walked into the night sky. 

Your feet moved one in front of the other as you made your way up the stairs and into the apartment whose door was slightly opened. Walking inside, you took a look at your surroundings, taking notice of the papers that were scattered on the floor, reminding you of how you and Taeyong would sit down and organize the ones back home. A few shells from bullets were laying on top of the white sheets of paper and a streak of red was now leading from the living room towards the bathroom. Taeyong walked out of the bathroom with a few dots of red covering the side of his face, his bandana hung around his neck as he approached you. In one hand, he was holding a box of home hair dye and in the other was his gun with specks of blood on the silencer drying down. “How good are you with hair dye?” 

  It had only been a couple of hours, Taeyong’s head resting on your lap while he slept and you kept a look out until midnight. His bright red hair stood out against his black outfit that had multiple darker spots that you knew were not hair dye. In the pit of your stomach, you still felt a little weird about the whole situation, but now you prefered to know less. It had been your first time and somehow you ended up with a body count that only floated in the back of your mind when everything was silent. 

“So now what?” you asked Taeyong as you flopped down on the couch across from him as he walked behind you, a towel in his hair as he dried it down. The towel stained in a bright red that you didn’t know if it was blood or if it was dye. 

“We rest, we take off at midnight. We should be able to arrive at the safe house in the morning where the rest of the guys should be waiting for us,” Taeyong replied as he sat down next to you.

Sighing, you turned and grabbed the towel from his hands, helping him dry off his wet hair, “And then? Are we just going to start over?” 

“I mean, I guess we can, we could keep running this for the rest of our lives. We’re pretty much invencible,” there was a small chuckle that followed his comment as he finished. There was also a small glimmer in the corner of his eye that you caught and it only made the pit in your stomach grow. “Then again, we could find jobs and play nice,”

“You like this don’t you?”

“Y/N, that’s n-”

“But it is Yong, you like this life. I can see it and I’m sure the guys saw it too, I’ve never seen you so passionate about another project in your life since this. Yeah, it’s terrifying but I’m going to be there with you all the way.”

The memory of the earlier moment had you still a bit shaken up, you had pretty much signed a deal to be with him ride or die. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you looked down at the man in your lap, if you wanted to end this you could. You were still carrying the rest of your weapons on your body and you were fairly certain on how each of them were supposed to be used. The idea of ending it all here and turning everybody in felt foreign to your mind but it still kept floating around. 

You were busy looking outside the window when you heard the door knob start to jiggle, the boy on your lap quickly getting up from his position. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at Taeyong who had a smirk on his lips, his expression changed the moment he turned to you and looked down the hallway. He pointed towards the last door before the bathroom, you could only nod as he picked up the gun from the floor and made his way behind the front door. You moved inside the empty bedroom and looked around, there was an array of photos on the walls along with awards on one of the bookshelves. To OH SEHUN, from SM ENT. one of the awards read as you glanced through the bookshelf. 

The photos showed three men, two of them were obviously younger which only made you assume they were investors of this SM ENT. Your hand reached out to grab one of the photos that was on the wall, there was a third guy who seemed shorter than either of them. The sound of footsteps caught you off guard as you quickly pulled your hand back and ignored the photo behind you. 

“Taeyong, dude, we can talk about it seriously,” the stranger pleaded as he walked back towards the bathroom. You leaned to peek between the door and the wall, the gun was aimed at the stranger’s head as he slowly backed up into the sink. There was something familiar about this guy that you couldn't help but notice, “C’mon, put that down, we can talk,”

“There’s nothing to talk about, you and Chanyeol ran with my idea and then pretended it was yours just to make money off of it. You knew I need that money more than you and your rich family, and because of you she’s dead!” Taeyong exclaimed as he pushed the taller man towards the tub, the mirror reflecting the side of his face, giving you a clear sight of Taeyong.

The taller man was taken aback by Taeyong’s words that he hadn’t even noticed the other man who was already in the tub, his body already cold. “Wait, no Bokyoung can’t be dead. Taeyong, stop playing, you can’t be serious!”

“You killed her, Sehun.” The voice that came out of Taeyong was emotionless and it sort of reminded you of a robot as he pulled on the hammer of the gun, his aim never leaving the man in front of him.

“Taeyong, I had no idea, please.” The taller man was pretty much begging at this point and from what you could see there was no way Taeyong was going to let him go. 

Bringing the gun up to the stranger’s forehead, Taeyong tilted his head to the side as he spoke, “Thank god that you won’t see her where you’re going.”

“Taey-” whatever the man was going to say was cut short with a silent bang that rang through your ears as your eyes looked through the mirror back at Taeyong. The smirk that appeared earlier was now plastered across his face once again. A cold chill made its way down your back as you moved away from the door, backing away until your body knocked into the bookshelf. Turning your head to the side, you looked at the picture once again, the men who were now laying in the bathtub were in that picture along with Taeyong.

  “Who were they?” you asked Taeyong as you got into the newest car which was kind of taken from the two dead men in the tub. Is not like they’re going to ask for it back, you mentally thought to yourself as you looked over at the man next to you who was pulling out of the parking lot.

“They were nobody’s until I came along with all the brains,” he replied in a cold tone as his fingers tightened around the wheel. His knuckles almost turning a pinky white before he sighed and turned to look at you for a brief second. “They were the reason Bokyoung died, I was on the team with them and we were supposed to turn in our idea for a multi wall protection with zero traceable coding behind. The day of the presentation, I was let go by SM, they told me they didn’t need my ideas anymore. Of course, I was upset but then from one of the leaders, I found out they had picked Chanyeol and Sehun’s idea. My idea. I tried to reach all of them but I got no replies, no answers so I decided to wait.” 

Taeyong only shrugged as he finished his sentence and relaxed back against the chair, his hand reaching over to take yours in his. “How long have you been keeping tabs on them?”

“Ever since I went to my bowling outings, Kun is a lot more into this than me. He was the one who taught me how to trace them without leaving a sign behind. To hack into CCTV’s to see where they’d be going, track cell phone records, all of those things.” His hand felt warm against yours as you stared at the road ahead of you, his thumb tracing soothing circles over your knuckles. Nodding, you decided against asking more questions about the situation, it was obvious Taeyong had eyes and ears everywhere. In the back of your mind, you could only think of what would’ve happened if you had stayed behind, your every move would’ve been watched by him no doubt. 

Moonlight came through the sunroof, shining over the rings across Taeyong’s fingers as his fingers laced into yours. At this point, the clock on the dashboard read 3:15 am and you were coming in and out of consciousness, sleep finally taking its toll on you. There was a feeling of protection when Taeyong did small things like hold your hand that made your heart skip a beat. Closing your eyes, you finally let sleep wash over you, Taeyong’s distant humming lulling you to sleep.

  It had been less than an hour before you felt Taeyong shake your leg, making you groan as your eyes once again adjusted to the darkness. There was a sound of sirens in the background that reminded you of white noise, but sleep was still heavy on you and you weren’t fully functional yet. “Baby, c’mon you gotta wake up,” Taeyong’s voice was a bit strained as he kept one of his hands on the wheel while the other kept shaking your leg to wake you up. 

“What’s going on?” you groaned out as your hands stretched over your head, blinking a few times before turning to him. There was a serious look on his face as his eyes shifted between the mirrors and the road in front of him. 

“We might have a little company.” He said as he reached over and pulled out his gun, setting it on your lap. Your breath hitched, knowing what he was asking, you could only nod as you began to reload the magazine. 

“Fuck.”

Beginning to slowly sit up, the sunroof above the both of you slowly opened up, revealing the twinkling stars above the both of you. Your body fit smoothly between the small rectangle and you could see that behind you there were about three police cars chasing the car. “Stop the car!” one of the speakers from the cars boomed through the night. Adrenaline rushed through your body as your body turned to face the incoming cop cars behind you. Bringing the gun up, your hand pulled the hammer on the top, aiming at the police car and quickly shooting four bullets out. A loud boom and a hiss from the car coming to a halt suddenly was heard through the empty highway. The police car behind the both of you screeched and stopped, covering the road and the other cars stop behind it abruptly. 

As soon as they stopped, officers ran out of their cars, shooting various bullets your way and making Taeyong yank your leg down. It was barely enough time as bullets buzzed over the roof of the car. Meanwhile Taeyong could only press on the gas, the needle on the dashboard hitting close to a hundred as you both escaped the scene. “That’s my girl!” 

There was a grin on your lips as you leaned over to press a kiss down to his cheek, fixing yourself back into your seat, “That was kind of exciting.” Your eyes turned to look back at Taeyong who had a smile plastered on his lips. 

As you reached for his hand, you noticed Taeyong’s smile fade into a blank face and you could only look at him in confusion. That was until you looked ahead, there was about a dozen police cars surrounding the car and there was no way to drive out of. 

“Lee Taeyong! Y/L/N Y/N! Come out with your hands up!”

Your eyes looked back at Taeyong who stopped the car about twenty feet from the other cars, his breathing was calmed as he turned to look at you, “You know I love you, right? That you’re the best thing that could’ve happened to me in my twenty four years of living in this miserable Earth. That you’re the love of my life and I’m just sorry I couldn’t give you a better life, a life outside of this and I’m so sorry I dragged you into this,”

“Lee Taeyong, I could’ve left you back there at that stupid building to die yet I killed two people for you. If that doesn’t show how devoted I am to you then what does?” There was a brief moment where he could only chuckle and stare at you. The police was still screaming from outside the car, but at that moment it was just you and him, nothing else. 

“You trust me, correct?”

“With my life.” 

That was all he needed to know, within seconds the car was picking up speed as it reached the people and cars in front of you. The car colliding with everything in its path, Taeyong’s hand in yours as your world turned into utter darkness.

[alette-stars]

The giant goes to rest. More than two years, 130 000 words and many screams and tears since its start, Lavender Jade is complete.

Let me start off by thanking you all for supporting this fic! When I started I had no idea it was going to receive the love it has. Before Lavender Jade I was known for more overall lighthearted works (Mint and Poppy in the Monsta X fandom, Stray Romance for ASTRO). All your constant love and support has been a huge help. Thank you so much! Words cannot describe the joy your comments and messages gave me ♡

I’ve made so many amazing friends and spoken to so many beautiful people because of this work, but this fic is dedicated to Monsta X ♡

Okay, enough sappiness! Time to move on to the trivia and extras. This is my 4th trivia post (you can find Mint and Poppy here; Stray Romance here; Wrong (Right) Number here) and longest yet, so it’s in 3 parts:

basic tidbits/extra info

regarding the vei, the card divination system

some personal rambling regarding my character motives (entirely skippable)

If it’s not obvious, there are going to be major spoilers, so if you haven’t read the fic yet but plan to do so, I advise not reading this ^^

If you need, you can always reference the character list here

Okay, so let’s get started! Rest of the post is under the cut

1. Basic Trivia

Most of the extras in the fic were original characters this time, with a few exceptions. Even these exceptions are not exactly based on the idols they’re named after, but I imagined them while writing. These are:

Sojung, Jooheon’s bodyguard - WJSN’s Exy

Sewoon, Kihyun’s manservant - soloist Jeong Sewoon

Seungwoo, another of Kihyun’s servants - soloist Yoo Seungwoo

Dawon, Hyunjung, Jiyeon, Luda, Soobin, Juyeon, the girls mentioned as being part of Jooheon’s people in Eigak - WJSN’s Dawon, Seola, Bona, Luda, Soobin, Eunseo 

Along with the ones living, there were those who lived in the past. Mentioned in-text:

Hoseok II, a previous king of Yishin - BTS’ J-Hope

Seokjin, a consort to Hoseok II - BTS’ Jin

Kim Namjoon, prime minister of Hoseok II - BTS’ RM

Hakyeon, the first king of Yishin - VIXX’s N

And those referenced only in the snippets in the chapter summaries:

Jungsoo, a previous king of Yishin - Super Junior’s Leeteuk

Kyuhyun, a historian - Super Junior’s Kyuhyun

Yoongi, a consort to Hoseok II - BTS’ Suga

Taekwoon, high prince to Hakyeon - VIXX’s Leo

For some reason which I still cannot fathom, I’ve been praised for the worldbuilding in this fic. The capital city of Yishin doesn’t even have a name. 

The basic geography of the peninsula is Yishin, Eigak to her east, a number of tiny states to her west, the sea to her south. The western side of Yishin is more fertile. The stretch of border between Yishin and Eigak is a rocky wasteland.

Yishin was named as a mix of Wonho’s two surnames: Lee and Shin

The concept of snippets from literature and media from the universe as chapter summaries was inspired by Steven Erikson’s Malazan Book of the Fallen saga. The vei deck (more on it later) was also very heavily inspired by his Deck of Dragons in the same books. 

A lot of fics focus on Hyungwon’s looks (something I’m guilty of as well) so I wanted to write a world where he wasn’t considered handsome. I understand why all the shows set in alternate worlds have the same beauty standards as us—it makes for prettier TV—but I decided to set a different one for the world of Lavender Jade. Somewhat arbitrarily, we have:

considered very handsome -  Hoseok, Minhyuk, Changkyun

considered somewhat handsome - Kihyun

considered plain/regular - Hyunwoo, Hyungwon, Jooheon

Han Jehan, obviously, also falls in category 1.

Han Jehan was my first time writing a proper villain in my fics, and I don’t know how well I succeeded but I enjoyed it immensely. I went out of my way to add all the traits I like so that I wouldn’t end up hating him, even going so far as to give him the surname of one of my favourite idols (sorry Hyuk). 

There are two main things I’d change in the fic if I could turn back time:

tighten up the front end. I’d combine the first couple of chapters 

Yeon Hu would be a woman. By the time I realized the awesome power of a badass lady general, it was too late

All court members—Jo Senmi, Yeon Hu, etc—are original characters. They’re both basic archetypes you’ll find in sageuk dramas. I think it’s worth mentioning both of them really do love Yishin, they just had very different, more conservative ideas of what would be best for the country.

I’d thought of using all the proper Korean names for the clothes especially, but decided that would make things difficult to read and binned the idea.

The opening note says the world is inspired by the Joseon dynasty. Regarding the initiatives to improve people’s lives, yes, but the hall/court system is more inspired by (what I know of) the Goryeo dynasty system.

I’ve been asked this before, but I’ll answer it here again: I’d never finished a sageuk drama before Flower Crew (very recently, and only because I was watching it with my sisters), and definitely not while I was planning this fic. Don’t judge me. The one I would recommend is Six Flying Dragons, most like Lavender Jade in tone. The others I’ve made headway into are Moonlight Drawn by the Clouds, Ruler: Master of the Mask, and The King and the Clown. 

I’m surprised no one brought up the foreshadowing I did near the end of chapter 16. Seven stars, two possible fates. The final fate of the two lovers (Kihyun and Changkyun) turned out to be a mix of the two stories: there was a fire, and the heavenly king was pulled from heaven (Kihyun from his position) to live the rest of his life with his lover.

Unlike my other secret couple (myungjin in Stray Romance) there are no hints of Hyunwoo and Minhyuk. They never did anything that would show. Minhyuk attempts to fluster Hyunwoo, but he does that with everyone.

Changkyun’s final card from the reading in chapter 8 is the two of Knives. It means a sacrifice. 

My favorite parts of the fic to write were Kihyun’s various descriptions of Changkyun’s beauty :)

This is, undoubtedly, the fic that has required the most work from me. I will say the most difficult scenes to write were Minhyuk’s fight with the assassin and Hyunwoo’s with Kim Sungil. Action scenes are not my forte. 

If you don’t know, I have written a romantic one-shot set in the same universe, titled Only One

2. The Vei

I don’t know how obvious this was, but the entire vei deck concept was inspired by and based on VIXX. The idea itself came from the Deck of Dragons in Steven Erikson’s Malazan Book of the Fallen saga. 

There are 84 cards in the deck: 72 cards in six suits, and 12 Unaligned. The Unaligned can be paired off, where each card is the opposite of its pair (with the exception of the last pair). The Unaligned cards are:

Fountain and Grave - a beginning and an ending

The Open Hand and The Closed Hand - generosity and miserliness

The Lord and The Lady - bad luck and good luck

The Centaur and The Fox - someone proud and someone crafty

Magnolia and Crown of Thorns - misery in success and happiness in failure

Pyramid and Mirror - stability/instability and karmic justice/unfairness 

The six suits, along with the member they represent, are:

Stars - N

Rings - Leo

Shells - Ken

Scrolls - Ravi

Flowers - Hongbin

Knives - Hyuk

Each suit, like our playing cards, has a king, queen, and knight (jack). The king of each suit is based on a VIXX member, and has some particular qualities along with being very rare. All visual cues for the kings come from VIXX’s masterpiece MV, Shangri-La. 

Stars - King: the Emperor, Queen: Sloth, Knight: the Page. The Emperor is the rarest card in the deck, and is represented by a crowned man with no features, only darkness in place of a face. The Page is the icon of diligence (and was in Minhyuk’s hand in chapter X). The theme of the suit is mystic fates, technically the uncategorized cards. In the natural half of the deck.

Rings - King: Death, Queen: Envy, Knight: the Messenger. Death is a card of finality (like Grave). The theme of the suit is secrets. In the manmade half of the deck.

Shells - King: Life, Queen: Gluttony, Knight: the Fool. Life is a card of possibilities. The Fool denotes absolute luck--essentially the card of negation. The theme of the suit is environment. In the natural half of the deck.

Scrolls - King: the Mage, Queen: Greed, Knight: the Apprentice. The Mage is a figure of knowledge and learning. The theme of the suit is motivations. In the manmade half of the deck.

Flowers - King: the Elf, Queen: Lust, Knight: the Handmaid. The Elf is an elusive, hidden figure with hidden motives. The theme of the suit is happiness. In the natural half of the deck.

Knives - King: War, Queen: Wrath, Knight: the General. War is a decisive figure, one who brings final consequences. The them of the suit is decisions. In the manmade half of the deck. 

I’ve been asked about the game played with the vei deck as well. It is a game of my own invention, yes. It’s based on trick-taking games like Hearts, where the object is to win the least cards as possible. It’s played in alternating rounds, one where the Unaligned are not used, the next where they are. I didn’t hash out the details beyond some basic motifs, but it is technically playable. Only if you have a vei deck though. The whole gameplay hinges on the fact that some cards are less likely to appear when picked from the stacked deck. 

I’ve heard from more than one person that I got them into tarot as a hobby. That’s great! But the truth is I know next to nothing about tarot haha

3. Rambling

I might suggest skipping this. This adds 0 value to the post and fic aside from giving me a space to ramble and whoa it turned out long

First: King Hoseok. He’s copped a fair share of criticism in this fic regarding his passiveness and his acceptance of the unfair consort system. I will defend my handling of this character to the ends of the Earth. I’m not saying he’s perfect (obviously! the only character that comes close to that is Hyunwoo) but I think he did right by what he had.

A neat indication would be to flip back to chapter 14, the Hyungwon POV chapter. When Hoseok says that the two of them are alone even though the room is filled with servants, Hyungwon forgives it as a result of his upbringing. He’s undoubtedly biased, but he has a point. Hoseok was raised as king. Certain things that are so obvious to others don’t even register to him. The consort system, where they have to swear loyalty to him but he doesn’t to them? He was raised as seeing this as normal. They all were. He never even fathoms a consort would want to leave their position. When Kihyun tells him the truth about the affair, Hoseok is stunned. He doesn’t understand Hyungwon calling his old life of poverty a life of freedom.

Basically, Hoseok is just trying his best after being raised (and still living) in a life of absolute privilege. He expects loyalty, love, because he hasn’t been exposed to anything different. His situation is completely different from Jooheon’s, who’s grown up in a much more volatile situation. Jooheon had to learn early on to really open his eyes, to listen, and he’s much more observant and understanding. By the end of the fic Hoseok’s had a wakeup call, and he’s going to get better. 

Second: the consort system. Yes, it’s cruel. It wasn’t what Hakyeon had envisioned when he had his companions instated formally. But in Yishin this is the norm. No one thinks it cruel. It’s a position of huge honor (Kihyun thinks of it a few times).

Even though there’s no homophobia, misogyny etc, Yishin is a conservative society. They haven’t had a change of regime in 23 generations. They’re used to the norm, and consortship is the norm. Also, if you look at most conservative societies, you’ll see romantic love isn’t considered a prerequisite for marriage (which is kind of what consortship is). In many societies (including my own) many people would jump at a chance for consortship, no matter their relationship with the monarch. 

Third: the fic had a lot of subversion of typical historical expectations and standards. I still consider myself primarily a fantasy writer. Typical fantasy and historical works have a strong focus on honor, dignity, truth and justice and all those values.

Lavender Jade does not. Kihyun and Changkyun are oathbreakers, they are traitors (by Yishini law). Every insult flung at them is true. The king breaks his country’s laws to help them escape their deserved punishment. Even Hyunwoo, the honorable and admirable commandant, defeats Kim Sungil using an underhanded move, and gets his happy ending with another consort breaking his oath.

At times I seriously considered ending this as a tragedy. It felt fair. Kihyun and Changkyun had broken laws, broken promises. All that happened did as a result of their own actions (even Han Jehan’s targeting of Kihyun was, from what we see, brought about by Kihyun digging into his affairs). A sad ending would be deserved. But then I thought, hmm, why? Why should it be fair? Why should they be miserable because it is deserved? 

So we got the ending we got, and I hope you’re all happy. I know I am. 

Thank you for reading to the end of this (unnecessarily) long post! It’s almost as long as the fic itself haha If you have any questions or messages you can shoot me an ask or pm here, or on my Twitter or on CuriousCat ^^ 

So what’s next? I’m writing Wrong (Right) ID, an epistolary fic for ASTRO in the same style as Wrong (Right) Number, and A Match Made in Heaven, my VIXX karma officer fic (it’s an unusual concept! you should try it). Both fics will end soon, maybe even before the end of the year, so you won’t have to bear much waiting ^^;;

I’m also writing Blood, Water, a vampire fic with a strong emphasis on family for ATEEZ, so you can check that out too! This one’s going to be long and angsty and quite self indulgent ^^

I’ve been asked if I’m going to continue writing in this universe. The answer is, yes. I will be writing White Carnation, the book referenced in multiple chapters of this fic, as a novella. I might write a short story on how Hoseok and Hyungwon met, but that’s undecided. I’ve hashed out ideas for side stories involving VIXX (and the founding of Yishin) and ATEEZ (and the change of regimes in Eigak) in this CuriousCat ask and this Twitter thread, but those will probably only remain as threads ^^;; 

And in the future? I have Monsta X one shots planned, and perhaps another long fic too. All possibilities are open! I hope you’ll stay with me for them ♡

Again, and as always, thank you. I hope you enjoyed Lavender Jade ♡

[bewitching-elizabeth-olsen]

Press: Elizabeth Olsen Opens Up for Who What Wear's September Cover

  Gallery Links:

Studio Photoshoots > 2019 > Session 006

Studio Photoshoots > 2019 > Session 006 – Behind the Scenes

  WHAT WHEN WEAR: A loose linen blouse. An untouched plate of madeleines. An empty French bistro in the Valley on a Tuesday at 4 p.m. These are the poised circumstances under which I spend an afternoon attempting to better understand one of Hollywood’s most discreet young celebrities: Elizabeth Olsen.

The 30-year-old actress’s identity doesn’t seem like it would lend itself to much mystery. Since 2014, Olsen has starred as the Scarlet Witch in Marvel’s superhero movie franchise—one of the most-watched film series in entertainment history. (This summer’s Avengers: Endgame quickly became the second-highest-grossing movie of all time.) It’s a role she’ll reprise later with WandaVision, a Disney+ spin-off series about her superhero character coming spring 2021. In the meantime, Olsen executive produces and stars in Sorry for Your Loss, a drama series following Olsen as Leigh, a young widow struggling to deal with the sudden loss of her husband. (The show airs on Facebook Watch, and its second season premieres October 1.) By any objective measure, business is booming for Olsen, the younger sibling of Ashley and Mary-Kate, who long ago reached a level of fame so behemoth they no longer need a last name. The Olsens are as much American royalty as the Kennedys or the Rockefellers. I should know everything about Elizabeth Olsen.

And yet, as soon as she walks through the door of Petit Trois (the setting she chose for our interview) and introduces herself to me, it sinks in how little I do know. “I’m Lizzie,” she says with a jumpy half-hug, half-handshake—though the awkwardness is entirely my fault. I’m caught off guard that the young starlet lives just outside of L.A., around the corner from where she grew up (I would have pegged her for more of a hip Eastside girl), and I never knew she went by the cozy nickname. “Thanks for coming to the Valley,” she says, smiling.

Following behind two heavy-hitting child stars turned esoteric fashion moguls, Olsen, who decided at a young age to pursue a career in acting (and obtained a degree in it from NYU), had prodigious shoes to fill. Her on-screen breakout, a critically lauded lead in the 2011 Sundance hit Martha Marcy May Marlene, suggested that Olsen would be taking a cleverly divergent route from her older sisters—one of a risk-taking indie cinema darling. Some of her filmography still reflects that identity—roles in quirky small-budget dramedies like 2012’s Liberal Arts and 2017’s Ingrid Goes West.

Maybe that’s why, even after all the Marvel movies, which are about as commercial as they come, I still see her in that light. Or maybe it’s Olsen’s enigmatic personal life, almost laissez-faire approach to style (“A combination of suburban mom meets little boy,” is how she describes it), and overall serenity of manner that create the sort of intrigue that independent film girls tend to have.

Her current project, Sorry for Your Loss, certainly has some of that indie energy, simply because Facebook Watch is still a new and unknown content platform. Olsen admits that selling the show to Facebook felt like a scary move in the beginning since most audiences don’t know that watching TV on Facebook is a thing at all. Moving into season two, she’s still figuring out the best way to spread the word to audiences. “There is no precedent, and that can be really challenging,” Olsen emphasizes. Still, there are major pluses to the marriage of television and social media, especially for a show that addresses a topic as personal and underrepresented as grief. “The show living on Facebook has been interesting because of the dialogue people get to have about their own experiences with grief and loss on the platform,” Olsen says.

The actress is looking forward to audiences’ feedback on season two, which finds Leigh “taking big swings, making big mistakes, and trying to figure out the balance.” As Olsen says, “Grief isn’t something that you ever just shut a door on or move forward from. It’s very cyclical.”

Olsen, however, will not be participating in these conversations with fans herself, because—ironically—she’s not on Facebook. She didn’t have a trace of social media presence until 2017. She finally downloaded Instagram shortly after the release of Ingrid Goes West, in which she pulls off playing a very convincing L.A. influencer. In contrast to millennial celebrities who use social media to speak about everything from beauty products to social justice, Olsen doesn’t feel the obligation to be any sort of influencer, politically or otherwise. “If I like blending into a wall, screaming from a stage isn’t something that would help me enjoy my life,” she says. “Sometimes I just don’t want to be part of a conversation because I don’t want anyone looking my way.”

As it turns out, privacy and stability inform everything about Olsen’s life—from how she dresses to the roles she chooses—more than any desire to seem “cool.” She lives in suburbia with her fiancé, musician Robbie Arnett, where she enjoys cooking, eating, and dabbling in interior design. “I love food more than I love anything that has to do with clothes,” she says, starkly contrasting her stylish sisters. (Though the actress is more of a beauty girl—she currently serves as a global ambassador for Bobbi Brown Cosmetics.) Categorizing herself as an “obsessive, detailed perfectionist” beset with a heavy dose of social anxiety, Olsen prefers poring over moldings and wood stains than obsessing over how her body looks in a dress and which angle she should pose in.

Transforming into a character—wearing costumes, acting on camera—puts the performer right at home, but photoshoots and red carpets, which give her no role to disappear into, are a source of great distress. “I don’t like standing out in a crowd,” she tells me just after ordering the dainty plate of madeleines. Our server also named raspberry tarts and pains au chocolat on her list of available pastries, but down to her desserts, off-screen Olsen likes to keep it simple.

“At 30, I feel like I’m finally getting to an age that was meant for my personality,” the actress says with no ounce of irony. “Just domesticated. A homebody.” I introduce her to the term JOMO: the joy of missing out. “Yeah… that,” she confirms. “I never feel bad about not leaving my house.”

Quietude feels inherent to Olsen’s personality, but it’s also something she learned from her family. She tells me her parents have had the same group of 10 friends their whole lives; so have her older sisters. Like other famously private Hollywood families (the Coppolas, the Fondas), the Olsens justifiably keep their circles tiny and exclusive to those with whom they have history—those they can trust. “I don’t have too many friends that I’ve met through work,” Olsen says. “I care about privacy. I don’t have a desire for people to speak about me.” Bottom line: Lizzie Olsen is not particularly interested in fame.

Ultimately, no matter how superhuman she appears on the big screen, Olsen values a fairly normal life: She wants her pastries from Petit Trois, where everybody knows her; she wants her white button-downs and her stable paychecks from Facebook and Marvel (most of which she’s been tucking away in savings to prepare for a family, she says). “Maybe I think about things too rationally, but my career goals are longevity and stamina,” Olsen tells me. “Working steadily, feeling challenged, and just kind of hunkering down for a bit.” One day, that paycheck might come from a less visible job; Olsen says that later in life she’d like to go back to school for a degree in architecture, interior design, or landscaping. “I’m interested in the new science of irrigation and water conservation in California,” she shares. “I could be someone who’s lived multiple lives, multiple careers.”

Before heading out, Olsen packs the six madeleines, which have all gone untouched, in a to-go box for later, when she’s home, to savor in her quiet, happy place. “The next career could be a lot more private,” she says. “Maybe. We shall see.”

Press: Elizabeth Olsen Opens Up for Who What Wear’s September Cover was originally published on Elizabeth Olsen Source • Your source for everything Elizabeth Olsen

[carruechedaily]

KARRUECHE TRAN: THE SUPER-HUMBLE, SUPER-TALENTED SUPERWOMAN

Karrueche Tran needs no introduction, considering she’s been a household name for those who are into celebrity gossip for nearly a decade. “Hi, it’s Karrueche” is the first thing she says when she calls me from her cell phone, quickly followed by an apology for being like, three minutes behind for our scheduled interview. Important note: In my phone-interview-with-celebrities experiences, 99% of the time their publicist is making the perpetually late call, lifelessly greeting me verbatim with “I have [insert celebrity here] on the line.” Annoyingly often the publicist will require that I submit questions in advance for approval, which I do. When I throw in non-approved questions during the actual chat, the celeb offers a nervous, meh-media-trained response—that is, if the publicist, who has been listening to our conversation in an intense manner on mute all along, doesn’t interrupt and shut that shit down. That is not at all the case with Los Angeles born-and-raised Karrueche Tran. Whew! She actually wanted to talk, and was enthusiastic, humble, and filter-fucking-free during our nearly 40-MINUTE conversation. The 30-year-old was just finishing up at a gym in New Orleans, where she’s currently filming season three of Claws. Tran acts opposite the perma-fantastic Niecy Nash in the psychotically amazing, women-led (both on and behind the camera) dramedy that’s been described as Steel Magnolias meets Breaking Bad. In short, Claws is about five fierce manicurists who work at a nail salon in Manatee County, Florida and find themselves laundering money from a strip mall pill clinic in hopes for a bigger, better life. Tran nails it (sorry, had to) as Virginia, an unapologetically-herself ex-stripper. Her scene-stealing one-liners are simply everything: Virginia’s response to “Does it always have to be about you?” is “Uh yes, girl. I’m a millennial.” Tran has been immaculately executing the okurrr as Virginia long before Cardi B trademarked the phrase, and her maximalist, millennial-pink-heavy, Cher Horowitz-rivaling numbers—which, in the forthcoming season, will include a bedazzled eye-patch as a, spoiler alert!, style choice due to Virginia taking a bullet in the season two finale—are unrivaled. Thrown involuntarily into the scrutinizing spotlight in her early twenties for reasons that we won’t entertain mentioning, the then-mysterious Tran could have used the frantic fascination around her for a career in reality television and Flat Tummy Tea-sponsored Instagram posts. But “As if!” to promoting the aforementioned laxative, which is clear to her 8+ million Instagram followers, where she’s very open about her body image struggles, self-acceptance, and self-love. Tran talked in detail with me about that and so much more, including her thoughts re: her wild journey, from those damn TMZ headlines to her breakout role on TNT. Forgive me, but the slogan from the early-2000s MTV program, Diary, came to my millennial mind after we said goodbye: “You think you know but you have no idea.” Below, Tran introduces the (very) real her—the girl who once worked at a boutique on Robertson Boulevard and who dreams of starring in a box office blockbuster. She’s definitely got what it takes, and I, like so many others, will forever root for (a.k.a. stan) this super-humble, super-talented superwoman. You’ve been very open about your body image struggles, self-acceptance, and self-love. When did you become comfortable with your body? “

It took me a long time to be comfortable with who I am. Especially with my previous relationships or just with men in general, I knew what they liked and I knew that I would never be that because I’m a small, petite person. I think curvy women are beautiful, and I would love to have that, but that’s not how I was created. It took awhile for me to realize This is how you were born. This is how God made you. If you want anything close to it, then you need to work for it in a natural way. That’s why I workout—I don’t workout to stay thin. I workout to stay fit and healthy, but to also build muscle.” So many women can relate, and I’m sure so many consider you a role model. “That’s why I try to be very vocal. There are a lot of girls out there who are having the same problems as me. They’re always told, ‘Oh, you’re so small. You’re so tiny. You’re so cute and little.’ It’s like, Shut the fuck up. I’m 30 years old and I can pass for a 15 year old, which is a blessing because I look young, but it’s like, I’m a grown woman and I want to be treated as such. For me, and for a lot of people, having a butt and boobs signifies being a woman. It is hard, but I’ve learned to work around it and accept who I am—and keep doing my squats!”

I just have to say, you’re perfect. I’m not being creepy—I’m gay! “

Heyyy!”

Heyyy! By the way, you and your boyfriend make such a cute couple.

“Thank you. He makes me feel very comfortable with who I am, which is great because it makes me feel more confident and reassured that he cares and loves me. It’s really great to have that support from him.”

You’ve been in the public eye for almost a decade, but 2017 was the year you had your breakout role as Virginia in TNT’s Claws. Was it difficult to make it in the acting world?

“My story is quite interesting. The way I was first introduced to the world was from my past relationship that was obviously very public—that’s how a lot of people knew of me and recognized me. I do remember one time very early on in my career when I first started going to auditions. The casting director was like, ‘What do I know you from? Your name sounds so familiar… Oh yeah! I’ve seen you on TMZ.’ At that time, there was still so much press I was dealing with. I was like, Oh lord, I can only imagine what this woman has seen or heard about or read about me, which may or may not be true. And I was like, Fuck, that’s not the best first impression—being the girl on TMZ that has this relationship drama or whatever the fuck it was at the time. “When I made the decision to be an actor, I wanted to be taken very seriously. I had a lot of opportunities to do reality television and make big money, but it just didn’t feel right. I really wanted to have some sort of longevity in a career. I didn’t wanna bullshit around just to make money—I believe in doing things that I actually stand for.”

Can you tell me more about your acting journey leading up to this breakout role in Claws?

“I had a very, very small role in a horror film. I had like one line and I was very nervous, but from there, I was intrigued. I worked hard and took a lot of group classes where I could break out of my shell and not be so embarrassed around other people. With acting, you have to be vulnerable. “Once I was in those classes, that’s when I booked Claws. In between that time, I had done a lot of different shows and low budget, independent films. But Claws was the biggest production. So I went right back into classes, because if I’m on a show with Niecy Nash, Carrie Preston, Jenn Lyon, Judy Reyes, Harold Perrineau…all of these amazing, experienced, well-known actors, I’m like, Look, I’m not gonna be looking like the new girl! [Laughs] Going into it, I made sure to study with my coach and just really focus. I’m 30; I don’t have time to fuck around and just figure things out. It’s pivotal for me to focus on something that I love and to just keep working at it and perfecting my craft.”

You’ve been famous since your early twenties, but I’ve never seen photos of you stumbling out of the club or anything wild. How have you dealt with “the fame?”

“It’s weird, because I just see myself as being Karrueche from LA. Before I was introduced to the world in a very public way, I had jobs, I was hustling, I was figuring my life out. This journey that I’ve gone on…sometimes I think about it and I’m still mind blown. I was once working at a boutique on Robertson and now I’m on a TV show. “But I try not to think about it too much and let it consume my mind. I never want to change who I am because I’m famous now. I don’t believe in that; I believe in being true to who I am and adjusting to this new life, but still being humble and genuine. I’m lucky to have a great family and I still have friends that I’ve known since middle school and high school. It’s a blessing. My friends and my family are my foundation.”

Let’s talk about fashion. You pumped down the catwalk for The Blonds’ New York Fashion Week show. How was that experience?

“It was a lot of fun. I was so nervous. I’ve always been intrigued by runway models because they’re just beautiful, tall, lean, confident, and strong, and I never thought I could ever model because they’re at least 5’9”. I’m 5’1”! I was like, Oh my God, I feel like a little shrimp right now! But it was a great experience; I had fun. I don’t know if I’d do it again because I was just so nervous and in my own head, but it was a great time and I love David and Phillipe [Blond]. I appreciate them having me be a part of their show.” Well, Lil’ Kim has to be shorter than you, and she strutted down the runway and shut it down! “Oh. My. God. Yeah, she was so dope and her energy! She came out and I was like, Oh shit!”

Now for some random questions. If you could spend a few months anywhere in the world, where would it be?

“If I could spend a few months in New York and work during the summertime, I would love that. For a year, I would love to live in Jamaica or Turks and Caicos or Belize. Somewhere very tropical. This is my retirement goal.”

That should have been the question! Where do you see yourself when you retire?

“Living somewhere very tropical, owning a jerk chicken shack where I’m cooking the food myself. And I’m super tan, smoking weed, and in a great mood. I’ve been to all these places and I was like, I see myself here. Everyone is so nice and the energy is so good. I could live there forever and be content.”

If you could wear only one designer for the rest of your life, who would you want it to be?

“Oh, shit…I would probably say anything that Virgil [Abloh] makes. He is so talented and he is dominating the world right now. Killing it. I would wear anything that man put on me.”

And if you could raid anyone’s closet and steal their shit, whose would it be?

“Do you know who Aleali May is? She can pull anything off and she’s just really dope. I would love to be able to wear all her clothes. And she’s also from LA!” How would you describe your personal style in a few words? “Crazy, sexy, cool petite panache.” And sorry, the question that everyone asks: Where do you wanna be in five years?

“In five years, I want to be on the beach. No, I’m just kidding! In five years…it’s kind of around the corner. Time flies.”

It sure as shit does.

“I would love to be continuing on this path of growth and success and self-love. Just taking care of myself. I’d also love to be in a couple of huge box office movies.”

I can totally see you playing a superhero.

“Oh my gosh! I don’t know what it freaking is, but you might be the 20th person that has said that recently. I would love to as well. That is the fucking dream role. I’m knocking on some wood right now that hopefully that comes true one day.” Karrueche wears dress by The Dolls House, headpiece from Century Girl Vintage, shoes by Manolo Blahnik

I can see it now. The new Storm and/or the new Catwoman…

“Oh, fuck yeah! Hopefully in a few years! [Laughs]”

Is there any actor you would die to work with?

“Halle Berry!”

Who has played both Catwoman and Storm…!

“Mm-hmm! That’s why I laughed when you said that. I see so much of my character Virginia with her character from the movie B*A*P*S.”

Speaking of Virginia, how did you prepare to play her? Where did you find your inspiration to bring her to life?

“Well, because Virginia came from the strip club, before we started shooting, I stayed in Atlanta for a week. They’re huge on their strip clubs! I went to the strip club daytime and nighttime and studied the girls, their movements, the way they looked at other strippers, the way they looked at customers, and the men that were there. I was trying to envision myself as one of them, which I think helped a lot for figuring out Virginia’s mindset.”

Virginia’s been through a lot, and the show doesn’t shy away from it, like when she chooses to have an abortion and must confront the pro-life protesters.

“A lot of shows would shy away from it or are too afraid to acknowledge that topic because it might be sensitive. But we’re bringing light to reality and to things a lot of women go through. It’s very empowering for us to relay a storyline that’s not always talked about that people can relate to and connect with. That’s why I love this show.”

[horowitzbekker5-blog]

Release Anything

My story is that an author that 'd done online composing for such dot gones as Themestream, Created By Me, and also The Vines, someone striving to have fiction, poetry and also nonfiction in print for real, suggested PublishAmerica. She claimed it was a conventional publication author. I was struck with their slogan, "We deal with authors the old fashioned method-- we pay them." Had not been that what authors were intended to do? However considering that my novel was simply resting on the DiskUs Posting site and doing nothing but providing me with sufficient loan to acquire a pair of skate laces every three months, I believed maybe it would have a better chance over at PublishAmerica where it would be readily available as a profession dimension book both on and also off-line. So this author, Ellen Du Bois, had a big thing on her Geocities website about publications being available in brick & mortar bookstores & they would certainly have ISBN numbers and also be online and all that things. Additionally had her full dimension publication hide so I rested there for 5 minutes waiting for the damn thing to show up. Not impressive, however she liked it. Ellen was a supporter for her book as well as sent out reviews from a weekly neighborhood cloth and also she bulk e-mailed numerous pieces of correspondence throughout those spirituous days when her book was in prerelease, after that launch phase in the summer of '03. I damaged down and got a copy from Amazon.com-- took virtually 3 weeks to get. And I battled to read all 176 web pages. Tripe. Clichés abounded. Spelling/grammatical errors weren't there at the very least. But the writing was slim. The tale relocated also swiftly. The primary personality was one of the most reasonable as it was probably based on the writer. The discussion was okay. The descriptions were marginal. Had there been an actual editor, the book could've been very good. I wrote to Ellen and told her the positive things about the story, preventing the negatives thoughts. She would certainly been an on-line correspondent for almost two years, yet after I didn't assess her book on Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble she didn't contact me. Practically a year later she sent me one more e-mail-- to advertise a publication of her poetry. I was simply somebody to market a book to as well as she was just thinking about the sale and with any luck a radiant write up. A Future PublishAmerica Author Since I 'd currently authorized the agreement with PublishAmerica, I wished to cancel it after reading that trash. Currently my publication would be affiliated with a business that produced almost any piece of creating that came its way. I wasn't expecting a lot what with my dealings with the extinct eNovel and also RJ's digital books, along with a tiny digital book author named Crafts Throughout America where I had not been paid monthly as promised. And my unique as well as narrative collection suffered at DiskUs, residence of the alleged Number One Best selling digital book writer of perpetuity, Leta Nolan Childers. PublishAmerica sent me an author's questionnaire where they requested for basic biographical details; cover art tips, and a lengthy checklist of individuals who could intend to review my upcoming story. " Please prepare a listing (names, and addresses,) of individuals that know you all right to be curious about your success as a writer: personal friends, colleagues, loved ones, etc., to receive a publication announcement ... Please limit your listing and your tags to an optimum of 100 get in touches with. Likewise, please do not consist of companies or companies of any type of kind, consisting of book shops, media contacts, or government companies. Consist of buddies and affiliates just." The editing process of my manuscript took two weeks over the Christmas vacations. LA restaurants had the ability to determine that the very first few pages had actually been read as some minor modifications had been made, yet no adjustments adhered to for another 50 or so web pages. Among the mistakes that happened was plainly the outcome of a spellchecker on the part of PublishAmerica as an enigma appeared after the end of a declaration. I 'd check out of real authors obtaining guidelines to alter phases, change endings, erase various web pages, in other words, really struggle to rewrite a book. Why so much initiative? Names. Track record. The publisher intended to put their name on the most effective high quality book that they had purchased. The writer desired a publication that was salable but additionally well composed as well as something they took pride in. PublishAmerica's editing consisted of neither perfect as all they did was put the computer program's spelling/grammar mosaic right into action. My 2 complimentary writer's copies showed up in very early March as well as it behaved to see my trade paperback publication in print sans a cheesy cover and stapled spinal column. 'North of Sunset' really had good looking stock cover art of a couple of silhouetted palm trees, a noticeable font, and also a spine where the book title, publisher and also writer's name appeared. It would look excellent on book shop racks, I thought of. Testimonials-- What Examines? What was Publish America doing to make sure my book was evaluated? Nothing. I made a decision to get in touch with local everyday and regular papers by e-mailing a press release. The only responses I obtained were two e-mail autoresponders introducing the editors were on holiday. I invested $40 on copies of my book's galley and mailed them to 3 national papers as well as the Collection Journal magazine. Then I phoned a book reviewer at the 'San Diego Union-Tribune' and also asked if he would certainly want evaluating my publication yet prior to I can even describe what it had to do with, he asked who my author was. I told him. "We don't evaluate publications by that author," he mentioned. I called all the regional bookstores and also talked to the managers as well as/ or area relations individuals concerning my book, consisting of a number of shops that were literally situated on the road I 'd blogged about. An independent book shop proprietor told me that because PA really did not have a return policy she was incapable to equip my book. Another said that I can sell my book on consignment. The chain stores of Borders and Barnes & Noble said my publication would certainly be offered with Ingram if any individual selected to order it. Tried getting PublishAmerica to send out testimonial duplicates out and it took them weeks to do so. Had to call as well as make certain on 2 events that guides had actually been sent by mail. Maybe estimating one of their passionate marketers on the message board, an individual with a natural wizard for advertising and the budget plan to back it up, got 3 publications sent out to reviewers. After that I sent my book to Piers Anthony, kept in mind sci-fi as well as dream writer of greater than 100 books. I would certainly been in touch with him considering that 2000 when I notified him to the truth that eNovel was a rip-off. Although the action in his books usually occurred in alternate time periods/universes, he really did not mind checking out a mainstream Hollywood novel. He did so. "North of Sundown by Lisa Maliga. She's the one noted in my Study as I'm a Released Author Ha Ha! Ha!, a pertinent caution for starry-eyed aspiring authors. Her web site www.lisamaliga.com deserves checking similarly; she informs it as it is. If you took a couple of years off my age and altered my sex, the result might appear like Lisa. North of Sunset is fun, regarding a Hollywood manufacturer as well as his temporary secretary, revealing a bargain of what I assume is fact. It is written with the omniscient perspective, which I dislike, however it held my rate of interest no matter. " I would certainly found with a distressed author on the messageboards, which I keep reading occasion, that a person was whining concerning PublishAmerica. Uncovering the Absolute Write History Inspect area I invested several hrs reading, at the time, greater than 40 web pages of problems regarding PublishAmerica. Authors not obtaining books in time for booksignings that they set up themselves. Bookstore owners/managers rejecting to stock their shelves with unedited PublishAmerica titles. Writers not able to obtain their publications assessed. Doing a search on LexisNexis, the respectable on-line legal research study system, for all PublishAmerica publications receiving paper testimonials, I saw that from July 2002 to June 2004, only 24 books had been assessed across the country. Papers in Syracuse NY, Tulsa, OK, Fort Pierce, FL, Wilmington, NC and Lakeland, FL were stood for. Just Salt Lake City's 'Deseret Morning News', the 'Tulsa Globe', 'Pittsburgh Post-Gazette' as well as the suburban paper, the 'Chicago Daily Herald' were in fact major papers. Seemingly, the 'New York Times' or the 'Los Angeles Times' were not evaluating anything by PublishAmerica's authors. According to the PublishAmerica website in the Realities and Figures area, "Fact # 3: Once more, exceptional among all standard publication posting business, each day an ordinary 15 times a PublishAmerica author shows up in the news media, in newspapers, publications, radio or TV." Yet also mathematically tested folks can identify that by using the LexisNexis search stats, we find out that the standard is a puny when a month that a PublishAmerica book gets discussed in a paper somewhere in the United States. Editing-- What's That? Below's a treasure of a post on the PublishAmerica message board: "When it appeared in book develop a month back, my friends discussed the editing and enhancing issues in it, so a buddy of mine with a masters in education and learning went through it for me. It had close to a thousand editing and enhancing errors in a 182-page book. So, have some who really recognizes what literary web content should remain in a book, go through your publication for you before you send the final draft back to PublishAmerica. Due to the fact that the last draft, IS!, just how guide will be when it appears." I discovered that via the misspellings, grammatical mistakes, as well as basic poor writing that practically any person was publishable via the 'standard' author located in Frederick, Maryland. Such posts as: "I also am not the very best editor LOL! I did get my finished books. And when I consulted with a woman that is significant in the advertising and marketing area, she informed me that my publication at it's length of 132 web pages needs to have phases." A couple of PublishAmerica writers reviewed editing and enhancing. "I felt like you did when I found mistakes, yet after that I recognized, hey individuals read it for the tale, not seeking blunders in typo land! LOL Now I just keep a keepin on!" Sales Figures Question: I 'd actually like to recognize the amount of copies I've offered. Solution: Purchase all of guides on your own and afterwards count them. No matter how naïve PublishAmerica authors showed up, they will eventually concern the realization that PublishAmerica isn't really a traditional author, specifically when those twice-yearly aristocracy checks arrived. Every few months or two PublishAmerica sent them an e-mail proclaiming their success, extoling a heavyweight author they're discussing with, or, more just recently, doing a take care of the New York Times. On August 17th, an e-mail bearing the pleased subject heading 'Marketing Our Topsellers in the New York Times' appeared in author's online mailboxes. PublishAmerica was well named because they intend to publish any individual in The United States and Canada who has churned out a manuscript, despite quality. They declare to have anywhere from 9,000 to 12,000 "pleased" writers and also they want more and more of them as that undoubtedly suggests more money for the hoggish owners, specifically Willem Meiner and also Larry Clopper. The PublishAmerica name and logo is seen as a joke to those in the media, bookstores and also collections. Publications can not be returned. All PublishAmerica titles do not have the essential CIP [Cataloging-in-Publication] information, which is essential for collections to buy titles, and also who wishes to check out unedited and overpriced tomes besides the writer's cronies? Oh yep, and also while PublishAmerica asserts that they're a 'typical publisher' why on earth do they have in their major page keyword phrases note the term 'self publishing' three times? As well as in their website's summary, they boast: "PublishAmerica, Inc., a traditional publisher, approving and also publishing manuscripts and books at ON THE HOUSE to the author. Aristocracies paid to authors, books sold in shops. Manuscript submissions by mail and online" In the beginning of September I got a royalty check. To my shock, I was not only able to manage to acquire a set of shoelaces for my skates, I forked over the $12 it set you back to develop my blades. That recognized that this company would offer extra earnings allowing me to continue participating in my recreational skating hobby? Yet it cost me more than the $160 in author-bought publications, the $40 for galleys, which were possibly plunged into a recycling bin, the $87 shade calling card, $20 press release-- as well as the many hrs building and also reconstructing my website so people would take place throughout it and also buy a book that was only available online-- like any various other book. PublishAmerica enables the misconception of being a 'typical' publisher, a term not utilized before the development of the Web, to fester. The lie is perpetrated in those HTML resource codes that search engine spider robots deliver; the future writers led to the guaranteed realm of posting, a net web of woven myths fanning across the online world. PublishAmerica resembles most various other ePublishing companies guaranteeing tales of bestselling publications and authors. PublishAmerica is just another scam, just another future dot gone. If you are a PublishAmerica author, or know of one, that is sadly released and also will certainly tell your story, please get in touch with: Federal Profession Commission attn: CRC - 240 Washington, DC 20580 FTC Consumer Problem Form Frederick County Board of Region Commissioners Winchester Hall 12 E. Church Road, Frederick, MD 21701 Telephone: 301-694-1100 Fax: 301-694-1849 www.co.frederick.md.us/BOCC/ John L. Thompson, Jr., President Winchester Hall 12 E. Church Street Frederick, MD 21701 Telephone: 301-694-1028

Fax: 301-631-23 Discuss the following factors: Your publication is not offered in traditional bookstores and collections Your book is not returnable if a bookstore owner/manager must stock it 7-year-long contract is considered in inappropriate amount of time Your book is released by a vanity press You had to pay for your own copyright PublishAmerica will not look for the CIP, which allows it to be acquired by collections PublishAmerica overprices guides PublishAmerica offers a nonstandard price cut PublishAmerica's service version is to offer to their own authors PublishAmerica's books are NOT modified-- absolutely not line-by-line as they claim on their internet site but have actually since admitted that they only edit for grammar as well as spelling PublishAmerica approves about 80% of submitted manuscripts [most authors decline 99% of their submissions] PublishAmerica will just accept charge card orders over the phone when booking for one of their workshops or to purchase your own titles https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m7pJcweygAg

[darkspellmaster]

Anon Asks in my Inbox as of 10/29/18 –Afternoon edition

Updated link of the Master Guide: http://darkspellmaster.tumblr.com/post/179532344635/update-and-edit-and-master-post-to-the-fokker

1.       i(.)imgur(.)com/2UHctWY(.)png this picture works if you paste it into your address bar and just remove the ( ) symbols around the dots. It's his left hand since you can see the overside. Wether you find it weird to hold someone at the waist when kissing them or not is irrelevant, the arm and hand does not vanish which is the main point. Add it to your post so people can see for themselves.

 Thank you for the picture Anon, due to the blanket removals of BTISudio related things I’m holding off putting the image up and I’ll use something as a representation of the arm motion that you have up. Again apologies for not being able to put the picture up. But I see it, and you’re right the arm is there, but it’s a really weird way of placing it as the natural cure of a kiss like that would have it where one person would have their hand higher than the other. Like I said it’s a weird position. 

I’ll link your said picture so others can look at it. It’s in the main one. 

 2.       You say in 4 that the studio leak image is that of a cropped shot of the previous leak as they cut off the other mouse - but that's not true. You can clearly see the mouse on Pidge's shoulder.

 Added the Edit to the post anon. Thank you. I explained why I missed it. It’s still a bit odd that the mouse has not moved at all.

 3.       The voiceline thing that one anon was talking about was, somebody took lines Lance’s VA said in other shows/games he worked on and they also picked some lines from the 1 voltron VR game and put it together in one clip. The person included some random lines from the other characters too. And claimed it was “leaked audio” they got. Never said how they got it. Clearly fake, and a whole bunch of K/L fans obsessed with it for a bit before they lost interest.

 Okay so they claimed to have data mined. That’s interesting because normally you would only be able to do that with games, since there is a lot of dialogue that is recorded and then left in there when they choose not to use it. Actors will record hours of dialogue for a game and then studios may change plans on how they are going to use it.

 For example, Yuri Lowenthal, who voiced Yosuke, for Persona 4 had lines that indicated that at one point in the game they were planning to have Yosuke be a love option for the MC, but then dropped that plan for whatever reason. This was later data mined by fans from the finished product. But I’ve never heard of a way to data mine for recordings via a tv show, since the extra tracts would be left off the final disk, and you would have to have access to the main audio recordings of the show, and I don’t think Andrea would just go leaving them out there.

 I’m sorry that the fans had to deal with that. That’s also a low thing to do because it cuts into issues with the whole audio department and such. Also it sucks for the fans because it’s a cheap way to get attention and isn’t fair to the listeners nor the actors.

 4.       I didn't see this added yet, but there was a Plance fake "leak" that got a DMCA takedown here on Tumblr from DreamWorks 3 days ago. The artist admitted it was fake when posted, it was meant as a joke and to show how easy it was to make a "leak." This kind of takes validity away from "posts are getting taken down so it must be real!" Sounds to me Dreamworks just wants all of this to go away (since it's upsetting fans or whatnot.)

 Yeah I got one too way back on the 24th, and realized that that was probably why my first post was taken down. I’m trying to be more cautious out of respect for the BTIstudio. But yes, using any form of intellectual property:

 Name of studio, logo of studio, art, dialogue, written words, even plants and other items.

 Can be subject to claims. So even if it’s something made to debunk, if it so much as has a whiff of anything that could be connected to the actual studio, then that stuff has to be taken down for copyright reasons, and I completely understand that.

Next time I go to my convention in May, there’s a lawyer group that shows up and I’m going to try to ask about leaks and fake leaks and blanket take downs and the rules of it all. 

 5.       Honestly Shiro's sight lines in the first 2 pics make more sense if someone shorter was standing next to him. In the third, (I) it's a profile shot so it'd be easy to rotate or tilt the head up/down if this Fokker is a dummy stand-in for another character and (II) Shiro's hand is literally on Fokker's ass due to hand position and the dude's height which is A LOT for a Y-7 show. Now if it were a shorter character, Shiro's hand would be at his waist. 🤔

Interesting catch there. In the original art where the head shot seems to have come from, the eyes are pointed down and to the left away from where Roy is looking.

This would leave us with the question of who is shorter than Shiro right now, as the only ones I can point to are Pidge, Romelle, Allura I think, or one of the Aliens. Keith, Hunk and Lance are all about the same height to him, and since he is looking slightly sideways it makes me think he’s looking at someone who is not the person with him. It’s a weird line of sight that is for sure for the shot.

6.       Apologies if I misread this, but I think you implied the crisscross watermarks were a function of VSI Chinkel software and therefore would only appear on their studio's work. However in the other Chinkel studio shots, that crisscross isn't there. Watermarking is done by the originator (I.e. Dreamworks) not by the recipient. Also the pause | | in the upper right hand of the wedding is from the program the leaker is watching it in (VLC media player, specifically)

 Yeah I thought that it could be something that happened there. But you’re right that the other image clearly shows that it’s not happening on the main one. I’ll have to edit that factor. Still the actual dubbing equipment, according to their website is one of a kind.

 The thing about the VLC is also right, since we use it at my college. However I don’t know of any dubbing studio that would use VLC when they have access to more expensive and better software to watch media on. Also most get it in some digital form that they could play on Adobe or other media player that is far more useful for pausing and doing scripting, and seeing where the audio track is and what it’s doing. So I find that someone using an Open source tool is strange, at least to me, when it comes to a professional workplace.

 7.       that dude isn't roy, i think, he has the same skin tone as adam.

Oh anon, bless your heart here. Your right in that it’s not Roy himself, because that would land them in real hot water. He’s a look alike or representation. I don’t know if the character has a name at this point, but I’m calling him Roy as it’s easier than calling him “The dude that’s clearly a homage of the guy from Macross that was an inspiration to Shiro himself as a character.” Because that would take way to long. As I said before, this could be what someone thinks Adam without glasses and longer hair would look like.

8.       I also thought Roy's arm disappears through Shiro, but in another pic of that kiss that's in a google doc going around debunking the leaks, his arm is very much in that photo and around Shiro's waist like you'd expect. Ngl, that threw me off because I'm starting to think I imagined things and only saw flaws where there weren't actually any at all.

 And this is kind of the purpose of leaks that are not clear, or are not right, or have bad resolution. They are there to cover up the mistakes or things that make people realize they are false.

 It’s one reason art forgers will be very careful to not make mistakes, but the issue is that there are always tells. Some are very very tiny and you have to take them under a microscope and look at them with the eye of someone trained to find them out.

 As for the situation, take a break from it Anon. Go outside, enjoy the fall weather, watch another show or find something else to do. As I keep telling people, relax. No one has a horse in this race, I certainly don’t and nether should you. Our focus should be more on the real image that came out from JDS and LM and figuring out what was up with the table and, hey, on the plus side we have a “The End” shot. XD

 9.       Saw an anon point out that the “missing arm” is there and they are right. It is mainly behind shiro’s new arm and the hand is on his waist. It is a very normal way to hold someone, just because you can see the majority of it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there at all.

As I said I edited the post to reflect that info. The arm may be there, but there’s still something off about the whole thing to me. And again, if I’m wrong, oh well, if I’m right, oh well. I have no horse in this race and honestly am not into the ships.

10.   Lotor’s statue isn’t 3D.... it’s very clearly painted... I think you’re starting to reach a bit with some of your debunking.

 Changed the statue to an actual screen shot that I have to reflect it better. The thing is to me it looks like what you would do with a matte painting over a 3D image to create a more statue like approach to things. Since we have the white light filter over it, it makes it harder to see if it has the same 3D like rendering as Aang’s statue. Also between the time that Korra came out and now, they may have made the program smoother so it’s harder to tell if it’s 3D or not.

 While I agree that they do some statues in normal drawings, the other ones, like Lotor, seem to need details, and I feel like a 3D rendering would be a better way to do it than, a 2D drawing.

 11.   I so want to believe they’re fakes. So much points to it, but one thing bothers me: this is an awful lot of trouble that someone has gone to, for a cartoon!? I mean finding photos on I’m assuming private Instagram accounts or other social media to highly edit? No one can actually find the originals. Plus Chinkel do actually use the multiple watermarks thing. So? Maybe those ones with the cast in them are real. They seem like far too much trouble to fake unfortunately 1/2

2/2 and I’m gonna stab a guess here and say that DreamWorks and whatever other studio it was, aren’t taking any real action besides silently removing the images but not saying anything because they feel like the images don’t give away a huge plot spoiler? Just the supposed one year later thing? Like I said it’s far too much trouble to go to. Someone would’ve had to literally scour the ENTIRE French VAs’ personal social media to find that cast pic, because no one else can find the original.

 To be honest Anon, you would think that right? But the thing is that there are people out there that do this for fun. Namely because they know that it upsets a fandom and they’ll try to stir up the fans and then sit back and laugh at them.

 Given the incident with the actresses and the cloud leak, it can be done. Seriously you can hack anything that has some sort of connection to the net. There’s always a back door, and it’s something that the “White Hats” have been trying to deal with for years. Social media isn’t a safe place when it comes to keeping pictures and such because people can and will break in, all the time. Remember the Sony leak not that long ago?

 The photo with the cast is real, I just think the image on the screen is not. BTIStudio was sending takedowns, I got one on the 24th of October from them from a Mr. Rachel in the IT department. So my guess is it was a blanket take down regarding the name being used, since BTIStudio is now owned by Investors Shamrock and Altor, who just got the studios recently so there may be business reasons, or intellectual reasons “name being used” to pull it down. As another anon pointed out a Fake debunking image got pulled too because of them showing how to do it.

 It's work, but for someone who has the time and skills it’s not insanely hard to do. Because of digital media and how good Photoshop, illustrator, and several other programs are now, it makes it easier and easier to copy art and make forgeries. It’s something artists are dealing with right now because people are finding ways to copy and sell fakes of their digital paintings.

 12.   Something else I noticed about the fake leaks - Ezor's eyepatch. So far, none of the galra with missing eyes wear eyepatches. They all have some sort of cyber prosthetic. Like Sendak, Ranveig, Branko, and Janka. Why would Ezor have a normal eyepatch while the rest of them don't? Doesn't make sense

That’s an interesting point there too. Given what we’ve seen previously, it doesn’t make sense to change up how a character is shown to have a wound like that covered. Unless she couldn’t’ get it done, but that doesn’t make sense either since if she was working with the Blade they would have set her up with stuff on earth by now. And Ezor doesn’t strike me as the type to be all “No I won’t have something cyber put on me” that’s more Zethrid.

13.   The photo with JDS and Lauren are from His official Twitter account.

Thanks Anon, I think I’m going to do some Theories about that when I have a moment. After I finish sewing my costume’s sleeves, and getting done with the prologue to my novel.

I did see it, and it’s interesting, especially with the Red ribbon of fate, the candles and the silver piece on the side. Though that could have been there from another event. XD

14.   I saw that apparently the joke fake "pl/ance leak" was taken down by DW because of copyright as well? if so that proves that the leaks don't need to be real to be taken down.

Yup! As long as it has something that equates to “Intellectual Property” studios and copyright owners can take anything down. It’s a huge issue with Youtube and their review groups and such. That’s why the Essay’s have evolved so much to only put shorter clips in and other aspects.

Fan Art can be copyrighted if it’s too close to original works, or even fake fakes like the Plance art. Most studios just go “Anything that has our name on it, take it down” even if it’s not a real leak.

15.   I think that the anon who mentioned the "fake Klance voicelines leak" is talking about the fake audio leaks that were taken from Jeremy's line from another show and claimed to be about Klance and also a fake picture of Keith with Lance's jacket on .

 Well that’s different. As I said, data mining is a bit hard to do from a tv show since there would be no additional tracks. It’s why most people don’t do that when it comes to creating fake info about a show and typically stick to art, or altered scripts since it’s easier to do. Typically all tracks that are recorded are edited and the ones that are not used are stored on a server that’s not easy to access and isn’t even on the net, it’s in an in house server.

 As for the picture, huh, I think I heard of that one but never saw it.

[yaidenpart-blog]

Writing Dark Themes

Some stigma circulates around writers who tackle dark subjects regularly. Those writers tend to be treated a bit, well, like they're gonna pull out the fangs anytime and suck your blood. Today I'll talk about this stigma, approaching dark subjects in fiction in general, and my thoughts on Writing Dark Themes (And Why You Shouldn't Be Ashamed to Do so).

In preparation for this post, I read a dozen analyses, studies, and an absurd amount of psychology articles so I wouldn't show up empty handed and stupid. Though to be honest, the only thing that deep dive resulted in for me is dry eyes and a giant headache. Therefore, while I may build some arguments on top of the things I've researched, I'll use my own experiences to wing a big part of it.

So let's get started.

1. What Draws Us to Dark Subjects

What draws us towards dark themes? To reach a satisfying conclusion I first have to determine what exactly is included in 'dark themes' in this case. I'll mainly talk about the content matter of fiction, not equated to but also not divorced from the literary term 'theme’ describing the underlying meaning of a work. Basically, I'll fudge both together because to me they have always been inseparable in writing.

Since violence and disturbing motifs (such as abuse, gore, disturbing sexual content etc.) traditionally play a prominent role in the horror and thriller genres I'll center my attention on those. Though I'll also take care to explore dark themes in a broad sense applicable to other genres as well.

Various factors play a part in making the dark appealing to us, one being the human desire to peek behind the curtain and rob our fears of their power. By facing them in a safe, controlled environment we can stare right into their yellow eyes and desensitize ourselves. And through that, perhaps, gain the confidence to face these fears in reality as well.

Another one is catharsis. Some folks enjoy disturbing media as a healthy, secure outlet for their forestations. It lets their lizard brains bare their teeth without actually biting anyone, like a puppy play fighting.The public hanging of old, we as a western society used to love so, is now replaced with violent TV and fiction. Just. You know. With the difference of fiction not actually hurting anyone. And hanging making people dead. Yep.

Some people watch horror movies for the adrenaline rush, and write fiction which lets their readers experience the same, as a meta-analysis of the studies about mediated fight (1) confirmed,“Evidence also emerged that sensation seeking is associated with a greater enjoyment of fright and violence, which was consistent with other research [...]”

And of course, there's nothing wrong with any of that. But for me, personally, it has always been for the sake of exploration, of seeking to connect with humanity, to bridge the good things we are and the outright gruesome into a cohesive whole. While still keeping a layer of distance between reality to keep it safe.

So a fear of becoming homeless turns into monster stalking you and blocking the entry of your workplace every morning. Kind of a cheesy example, but you get the gist.

Writing provides us with a channel to explore those fears, to cut them down into pieces and hold against the light.

To understand them.

But that's just me.

Now we've cleared up why we're drawn to it, the question remains: Why should you integrate dark themes into your writing?

2. Benefits to Your Writing

Not to tap into a cliche, but, light doesn't exist without dark. You can't define the one without the glaring contrast of the other as a counterpart.

When you try to write a story that is completely pure, you'll end up with a flat mimicry of reality. Not to say you can't write a positive feel-good story, but it's like with GCI buildings in movies. Without a bit of scratch, they're not convincing. They don't feel real.

Imagine you add a hint of darkness to your story. May that be in the characterization, a breath held too long as your MC has to calm themselves down, a glance too harsh to be gentle from an old person across the street, moments of awkwardness when someone accidentally breaks a topic all present silently agreed to never talk about. Or in basic world building, monotone news voices droning on about crimes, tagged houses, and playgrounds where no child sets a foot on anymore.

Details like these may seem inconsequential, but they can roughen a story up just enough to make it into something raw.

To bring it to life.

Human experience doesn't only consist of roses and love triangles. A writer who keeps that in mind and works it in their stories in a respectful, emphatic way, possess a certain edge. In my opinion.

The key to writing dark themes, especially when you want them to be the focus of your story, is to approach them like peeling onions. Shhh, hear me out, I'll explain.  

Let's tell a story about hmm … a vampire. This is just an example, okay?

So we got a superficial plot of a teenager waking up with bloodlust gnawing at his gumps. Fairly simple. This is the surface layer.

To go deeper we have to peel off another one, we need to look at how he deals with the conflict we created (the vampirism).This is the reaction layer. At first, he freaks out and then resigns himself to starving because he'd rather scratch up his own arms than hurt someone else. His quick acceptance tells us he's both a nice kid and used to being screwed over by life.

When we go to the next layer, we realize why he's used to it. This one I like to call the core, it's what ties the dark theme together with characterization.

The relationship with his parents is strained, they demand nothing but outstanding performances outside inside and out of school while simultaneously neglecting him emotionally and physically. He has to deal with them sucking the life out of him on top of his newly acquired vampirism doing the same. Of course, depending on how you're inclined, you could spin this thread into a dramatic end scene of him cracking under the pressure and sucking their blood out in return, or he spares them after he learned he has a right to companionship and food and munches on squirrels or something. Whichever scenario you prefer.

So you see, the emotional core we've unveiled is is him feeling undeserving of basic human needs. And it affects how he deals with both the vampirism and abuse, one being a simple metaphor for the other.

Every theme has several layers, and once at the core, it's time to rebuild your story and make every element match accordingly. If you want. What matters is you can dig to a real, raw humanity through your dark subject and that's to me, the truly impactful aspect of dark fiction.

But unfortunately, not everyone gets it. You probably made the experience of relatives and friends judging your writing at some point, maybe even when you were just writing 'normal’ stuff. Golly, you think, when they're like this now, how badly would they react once you put all that saucy vampirism in? The thought doesn't bear contemplating.

Why exactly though, are dark themes such a taboo for some people that they get 'concerned' about your mental wellbeing when you preoccupy yourself with them?

3. Why Others Judge but You (still) Shouldn't be Ashamed

People, in general, love simple concepts. Like father, like son. You are what you wear.

The media you consume defines you.

Pushing people into tiny neat boxes is tempting because it's so damned easy. It doesn't require much thought, and as we all know, thinking hurts. So it's no surprise most writers of dark content, especially horror writers, face a certain... judgment. When you consume dark content you're branded as a bit weird, when you create it you might as well be the devil.

That's a bit of an exaggeration, but you get my drift.

Though what to do when someone cocks an eyebrow at your work, besides walking away or telling them to screw off? Well- that's what you got me for. I dived deep into research so you can refute anything people will throw at you with solid facts (should for whatever reason basic common sense not be enough) and maybe quieten some of your own worries.

Most studies and articles I found were more about violent video games (since that seems to be a Hotly Debated Topic™), but I figure it serves a similar service as violent books and movies.

Already 2011 studies which supported the outcome of aggression being a causation of violent media have been rejected by the US Supreme Court in the Brown v EMA (2), stating, “These studies have been rejected by every court to consider them, and with good reason: They do not prove that violent video games cause minors to act aggressively (which would at least be a beginning). Instead, “[n]early all of the research is based on correlation, not evidence of causation, and most of the studies suffer from significant, admitted flaws in methodology.”  

And studies 2016 and more recently have only further affirmed that decision, finding no relation between violent video games and increasing aggression (3) and not supporting any prior studies.

These prior studies had been, well, manipulated is such an ugly word. Let’s go with: primed to fit the desired outcome.

Some actually legit studies analyzed media history from 2005 to 2012 and showed an obvious decline of general social violence in connection to the introduction of more violent media︀ (4), implying violent media serves as a sort of catharsis for the modern western world, stating,”We find no evidence of an increase in crime associated with video games and perhaps a decrease.”

Puh, now we got these dry as desert facts out of the way -

Honesty, writing about dark or disturbing things is not a thing to be ashamed of, watching violent media doesn't turn you violent (assuming you're a person capable of differentiating between fiction and reality) and writing about it certainly doesn't mean you're sick.

We as humans aren’t perfect and pure, so common sense dictates the things we create are neither. Writing about the whole scope of human experiences can only benefit you.

So go on and fly my little bird, further your horizons and write some dark fiction.

That's all I have for you today, I'd love to hear your thoughts and maybe get a discussion going!

See ya in two weeks,

Yaiden Part.

**

Sources:

1.Hoffner C, Levine K. Enjoyment of Mediated Fright and Violence: A Meta-Analysis, MEDIA PSYCHOLOGY, 7, 207–237 Copyright © 2005, Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, Inc.

2.McCarthy R, Coley S, Wagner M, et al. Does playing video games with violent content temporarily increase aggressive inclinations? A pre-registered experimental study. J Exp Soc Psychol.

3.Brown v EMA, 564 US 08-1448 (2011).

4.Cunningham S, Engelstatter B, Ward M. Violent video games and violent crime. Southern Economic Journal

[clarencenicholsonata]

IGTV vs Youtube: Six Tips to Choose the Right Video Platform for You

Most content marketers and business owners seem to ask a common question when it comes to video marketing.

Which platform should I upload my videos to: IGTV or YouTube?

When compared to YouTube's long-standing years of dominating the video marketing industry, IGTV is the new kid on the block. Yet since Instagram announced that IGTV previews would now appear in the regular Instagram feed, along with videos being shared to Instagram profiles, views have increased by ~300-1000%, proving that IGTV's popularity is still steadily growing.

Both Youtube and IGTV make great contenders for your video content. So when it all boils down to it, do you place all bets on YouTube or IGTV?

Today, we're going to put these two social media video platforms to the test, IGTV versus Youtube, and share six tips to help you choose the right social media video platform for you.

1. IGTV vs. YouTube: Dimensions & Layout

When it comes to dimensions and layout for IGTV and YouTube, they tend to differ drastically. IGTV is a social media platform where vertical videos tend to thrive. Your IGTV video dimensions should be 1080 x 1920 pixels or an aspect ratio of 9:16, which is the same size as the Instagram story dimensions.

YouTube dimensions are more on the horizontal aspect, where the preferred aspect ratio for Youtube is 1920 pixels x 1080 pixels or a ratio of 16:9. Youtube has a wider dimension because it calls for long-form videos and visuals with more to show, which is why it's easily compared to TV or a broadcast. In contrast, IGTV is explicitly made for bitesize content for mobile phones.

Why does dimension have such a large play in how you should consider choosing between IGTV or YouTube?

Based on the space (or dimensions), you're given limits or allowed to use space for content’s creativity. More space means more content. Less space means finding better ways to make the most of it.

Since IGTV is made for vertical, it calls for tight shots and close-ups. Being too wordy or filled with text isn't feasible for content creators. With YouTube, you have more space to add tiny details. longer shots and more cutaways. Depending on what your video content's goal is, one or both could work just fine.

Keep in mind that despite the dimensions YouTube allows you to upload videos that can go up to 10 hours, whereas IGTV stops at 1 hour, however, they are working on removing that IGTV time limit in the future.

2. IGTV vs. YouTube: Analytics and Insights

Video analytics help us to know what's working and what needs improvement. Compared to IGTV, Youtube has more advanced analytics.

IGTV analytics only show you how many views and likes your IGTV video has gotten. It doesn't show you statistics, view time, or how your engagement developed over time. However, insights are almost instant and can be seen fully over the first three days as engagement is rapid, but it has a short shelf life.

YouTube analytics is made with content creators and bloodthirst analytic marketers in mind, as opposed to IGTV, which is only made for sharing content rather than analyzing it in depth.

With YouTube Analytics, you get an in-depth view of your video's success from start to finish. YouTube engagement comes in waves despite its longer shelf-life. You'll get individual and group analytics on videos published on your channel like:

Watch Time

Impressions Click-Through Rate

Average View Duration

Audience Retention

Re-Watches

Engagement

And more.

3. IGTV vs. YouTube: SEO & Discover

When it comes to SEO, YouTube takes the cake in the video content realm. Since Google owns YouTube, it's SEO algorithm works very similarly. For example, when you type an inquiry on Google, you'll now see video options pop-up on Google's first page.

YouTube videos can be embedded and found outside its platform and shared around various online mediums. Youtube allows you to add up to 30 keywords to your video, not to mention rewarding and ranking videos with the most views or popular accounts.

Even if you aren't subscribed, you can effortlessly find videos to fit your needs.

IGTV however, is static and sucks on Instagram's app. You can mainly find IGTV videos well, on IGTV or Instagram.

When it comes to SEO and search, you only have two places: the explore page and an Instagram account. If you're not following an Instagram account, you won't see IGTV videos unless you go out of your way to search for them.

Hashtags can be added, but without your viewers following your account or going viral instantly, your video will be lost in a sea of IGTV content.

4. IGTV vs. YouTube: Engagement & Ads

When it comes to engagement, you'll likely find that your IGTV video will have higher social engagement numbers (likes, comments, shares), but the YouTube video will rack up more views and likes on a more extended journey because of its long shelf life.

IGTV ads have begun showing up in IGTV from a select group of partners and advertisers in the US with plans to continue expanding globally. But mainly with test partners and will become the norm as it continues to grow.

On the other hand, Spiel Creative found that when choosing what to watch, whether a video relates to a viewer's interests is 3x more important to people than whether it has a famous actor.

Not mention YouTube is the second most-preferred platform for watching video on TV screens among 18 to 34 year olds, after Netflix. YouTube wins on watch time.

Making YouTube the most-preferred platform that has ads for watching video on TV screens.

5. IGTV vs. YouTube: Influencer Marketing

When it comes to influencer marketing on both IGTV and YouTube, it's pretty much fair game.

Believe it or not, YouTube was one of the first social media platforms to host and connect influencers to brands before "influencer" became an official term in marketing.

Instagram itself has turned into the influencer marketing hub as well with added features and tools for brands to work directly with influencers.

Both platforms have tapped into micro and macro-influencer marketing, users are now accustomed to seeing brand collaborate and join forces regularly.

The only downside is that once again, Youtube's content shelf life has a longer life span, making it better, in the long run. However, IGTV has created tracking and partnership tools that easily help both the brand and influencer see results and sync efforts. Both IGTV and Youtube have pros and cons even on the playing field.

To get started on influencer marketing on your preferred platform, check out these guides below:

9 Surprising Ways You Can Use YouTube for Influencer Marketing

The Essential Guide to Getting Started with Influencer Marketing

6. IGTV vs. YouTube: Social Shopping

When it comes to social selling, IGTV is ahead of the curve. Social selling is the art of allowing customers to shop directly on a social media platform without leaving to a third-party platform or website.

Youtube doesn't have shoppable features, mainly because they are a video platform first before and foremost. Youtube mainly provides ads for brands. What it lacks for social commerce, it makes up for eCommerce.

Since Facebook owns Instagram, so it should come as no surprise. IGTV now has shoppable tags that creators can use when uploading videos to their IGTV channels.

Now you can shop… right on IGTV ?? It’s an easier way to find products you love and support your favorite creators. ?‍♀️ Available everywhere today. pic.twitter.com/aeV2FEL01m

— Instagram (@instagram) October 5, 2020

IGTV vs. YouTube Summary: The Choice is Yours

IGTV vs. YouTube, you can put the two social media platforms together, look them up and down and read every professional's list of pros and cons. But at the end of the day, it's your choice.

What are your social media goals, and what do you want to accomplish with your video content?

Don't forget, you can choose to use both YouTube and IGTV to give your content a creative space. Instead of figuring out which platform is best for your business, IGTV vs. Youtube. Instead, experiment with both platforms and see which one fits your business needs best.

So which social media platform are you going to choose to help your business grow online?

Whether you pick IGTV or YouTube, here are some detailed Wishpond guides to help you along the way so you can make the most out of your video content:

The Complete Guide to IGTV Dimensions & Best Practices You Need

18 Powerful Ways to Grow Your YouTube Channel

12 SEO Grow Hacks to Grow Your YouTube Channel

7 Best IGTV Cover Examples & Tips to Increase Your Videos Engagement

10 YouTube Contest Ideas For Massive Engagement

10 Amazing eCommerce Instagram Accounts and Examples We Learned From

How to Seriously Master Instagram Like a Pro

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[artripoffdavidgorriz]

Love Bite: Laurie Lipton and Her Disturbing Black & White Drawings Directed, Edited & Filmed by James Scott

Today when most contemporary art is just decorative and is nothing more than commodities without meaning, art without soul and without substance, artists like Laurie Lipton have to be required. We all know many artists who could fit into that decorative art that says nothing but whom is buying for people because they have enough money to do it and thus be able to say a lot about their and theirs success. Laurie Lipton is the opposite, her art is something to trigger within you the things you may not have thought about, the things you’re frightened of, the things you don’t want to talk about , I'm sure most people would not want to hang one of his works in their homes. I came across the artwork of Laurie Lipton not so many years ago, I was living here in London and I remember that it had an enormous impact on me, I remember spending the next few days looking for most of the artwork and information about her that was on the internet, I even bought a couple of books of her artwork. His drawings are disturbing and terrifying at the same time, they make us reflect on individualism and the human condition in this consumer society and the acceptance of individual success as the only goal to achieve. The other day I saw the documentary "Love Bite: Laurie Lipton and Her Disturbing Black & White Drawings" and I thought it was a great documentary that brings you very close to her as an artist and her motivations to continue drawing. 

I highly recommend watching 

Love Bite: Laurie Lipton and Her Disturbing Black & White Drawings

Directed, Edited & Filmed by James Scott

"No one on the planet has drawn more than Laurie Lipton. With millions of tiny strokes of her humble pencil, Laurie’s haunted images seek answers to some of the most uncomfortable themes in our culture. But what compels her to live a life of isolation drawing is neither black nor white."

Laurie Lipton was born in New York and began drawing at the age of four. She was the first person to graduate from Carnegie-Mellon University in Pennsylvania with a Fine Arts Degree in Drawing (with honors). She has lived in Holland, Belgium, Germany, France, the UK and has recently moved to Los Angeles after 36 years abroad. Her work has been exhibited extensively throughout Europe and the USA.

Lipton was inspired by the religious paintings of the Flemish School. She tried to teach herself how to paint in the style of the 16th century Dutch Masters and failed. When traveling around Europe as a student, she began developing her very own peculiar drawing technique building up tone with thousands of fine cross-hatching lines like an egg tempera painting. “It’s an insane way to draw”, she says, “but the resulting detail and luminosity is worth the amount of effort. My drawings take longer to create than a painting of equal size and detail.”

“It was all abstract and conceptual art when I attended university. My teachers told me that figurative art went ‘out’ in the Middle Ages and that I should express myself using form and shapes, but splashes on canvas and rocks on the floor bored me. I knew what I wanted: I wanted to create something I had never seen before, something that was brewing in the back of my brain. I used to sit for hours in the library copying Durer, Memling, Van Eyck, Goya and Rembrandt. The photographer, Diane Arbus, was another of my inspirations. Her use of black and white hit me at the core of my Being. Black and white is the color of ancient photographs and old TV shows… it is the color of ghosts, longing, time passing, memory, and madness. Black and white ached. I realized that it was perfect for the imagery in my work.”

Some of her latest drawings from the series "Post Truth" and “Techno Rococo"

“Meeting” Laurie Lipton 2020

“Followers” Laurie Lipton 2020

“Left Hanging” Laurie Lipton 2020

“Blinds” Laurie Lipton 2020

“Binge Watching” Laurie Lipton 2018

“I’m Fine, Thanks” Laurie Lipton 2018

“Mouthpiece” Laurie Lipton 2017

“Post Truth” Laurie Lipton 2017

“Personal Effects” Laurie Lipton 2016

“Virtual Reality” Laurie Lipton 2015

“Happy” Laurie Lipton 2015

“The Decline Of Memory” Laurie Lipton 2020

“Ossified” Laurie Lipton 2019

Drawing  “Ossified” Laurie Lipton 2019

“Newsfeed” Laurie Lipton 2019

“My Social Media” Laurie Lipton 2019

“Alone In A Room, Socializing” Laurie Lipton 2018

“Messaging” Laurie Lipton 2018

“Default Setting” Laurie Lipton 2016 

“Likes” Laurie Lipton 2017

“Selfie” Laurie Lipton 2017

“3D” Laurie Lipton 2015

“Cooked” Laurie Lipton 2015

“Wired” Laurie Lipton 2013

You can find more of her artwork here  https://www.laurielipton.com/

Hope you like it as much as I do

[landofsomethingsomething]

how did you get so good at character & story analysis? like you only started homestuck near the end, and in that short time you've developed a deeper understanding of the characters and themes than people who have been involved for years (i.e. me, a dumbass who only figures this shit out after people like you talk insightfully about it).

I honestly & truly believe that I benefited TREMENDOUSLY from starting near the end, actually. When you start at the end of Homestuck, you get to read the entire thing at once, the way you would experience most types of heavy narrative focused media. You get the whole story in one (months long in my case but at least continuous) bite. 

When you are following any media update by update -- this goes for like, everything, comics, TV, etc -- you tend to be more easily distracted and misled by both intentional and unintentional red herrings. Like, so many Big Historical Homestuck Fandom Arguments were ROOTED in tons of significance being attributed to things that, on a fresh archival read, were completely inconsequential. When a 10 page update ends on a cliffhanger and you don’t get another update for a week, that’s a week that the entire fandom has to tear itself apart over every tiny little detail in those ten pages, because that’s all they had. And they did. 

And some of those little details mattered, of course, but MOST of them didn’t. It’s that old adage about “can’t see the forest but for the trees.” When you’re following something bite by bite, the bite in front of you is the Most Important Bite, repeated for every new update, forever, and it completely skews your reading and perception of something because it’s so much harder to plug This Piece into the bigger picture. You don’t really care about the bigger picture, because the whole story is years or months or whatever away from being done, you in fact don’t know if it will ever even truly finish, and what matters is what you have in the moment. 

More importantly this leads to just like. Rampant fanon. Just rampant, rampant fanon stuff completely based off hyperfocusing on individual updates and taking every little thing from them and going hog wild. In the spaces between updates, the fandom gives the canon a new layer of meaning. The fandom fills gaps with its own interpretation of what’s going on without the benefit of knowing what’s next. The fandom decides what it WANTS to come next and huge swathes of dedicated, passionate people are either disappointed horribly when they’re wrong or vindicated when they’re right or somewhere in between. 

So you get like... I guess the biggest example of this is the Retcon. 

I have never met an archival reader, someone who did not start homestuck until the ending or just before the final updates, who hates the Retcon. I have met some who will talk about what it could have done better, and the ways in which the device succeeded or failed, and some with mixed opinion, but I have never ever met an archival reader that HATES the Retcon with the passion that so many of those people who read update by update do. 

I know people who I otherwise respect and regard highly who like, for example, can’t get into Davekat as a pairing because it’s representative of the Retcon to them and it ruins it completely because they cannot connect to it or see it as “real.” 

Because a week between updates is one thing, but eight months? an entire year? That was a LOT of time for people to get attached to things the way they were in those pre-pause updates. That was a LOT of time for people to pore over every piece of canon that came before those pauses over and over and over and over and decide what they wanted and become SO attached to the characters and story and plotlines how they were. 

My wife tells me stories about how everyone did a “homestuck ending bingo” right after the update that kicked off the long pause before Game Over. Everyone was so excited to see what would happen next, how the characters they loved so much would overcome this insane trial, how it could possibly continue, how the plotlines would resolve. 

And instead, everyone died. John came in and fixed it all by branching them to another reality, where suddenly, these things that people had spent a literal year investing in so utterly were just... gone. Erased. In some cases almost literally never mentioned again. They never got to see the resolutions they wanted and they felt it was unfair and they were duped and etc etc etc the backlash against the retcon is something every homestuck fan is familiar with. 

But to circle back to my original point -- Archival readers just absolutely do not GET that. The version of Dave and Karkat and Terezi and Rose and Kanaya and Jade and John and EVERYONE that existed right up until Game Over were characters hurtling to an obvious Bad End, and the way it went down, archival readers have an easier time processing and understanding and accepting, because we didn’t have the time to get attached to point-in-time versions of things. 

My wife tells me stories of the days when Kare//zi and Joh//nKat were heavily shipped and it’s surreal to me, because from MY perspective, those were blips on a radar. Kare//zi was so early in Karkat and Terezi’s story that to me it was just like, oh, interesting, a failed relationship that informs things about both their characters that they moved on from naturally into other things. (I don’t mean to pick on that ship, btw, it’s just a good example of something that was EMBLEMATIC from a point-in-time perspective that an archival reader would never really hang so much weight on, because it’s there and then it’s gone and we didn’t have weeks and years of space between updates to ruminate on them as a couple or assume that the relationship would continue to be a flagship and how it would evolve in that role.) There are so many more examples. 

I find this with the Alphas, too -- Archival readers overall seem to genuinely love the alphas more, on the whole, than people who read episodically (who tend to favor the betas, or the Act 5 trolls.) Archival readers tend to leave the experience MOST attached to characters and relationships that survived to the end, because when you read it as a full narrative beginning to end, that’s just kind of a natural thing that happens.

Anyway this post is already way too long, but my point is basically, the experience of reading homestuck from beginning to end all at once with very little knowledge of it going in is COMPLETELY different from the experience of reading it episodically. The emotions you have and the things you care about and just the FEEL of your entire experience is so different. 

And yes, I think the archival experience is “better,” when it comes to like, an understanding of the work as a whole? I don’t think this just with Homestuck, btw. I feel this way about, for instance, episodic television shows that tell ongoing continuous stories too. I much prefer to binge watch an entire series on netflix in a week than to watch every friday because I just GET things better. I feel I come away with a more complete experience. 

It’s a trade off, obviously. Reading episodically is better for like, having the FULL homestuck as an explosively popular fandom experience. Us archival people will never know what it’s like to have been around in the full swing of Homestuck’s popularity, never be able to roll around in the absolute GLUT of content that was out there, never be able to engage with SO MANY diverse voices and opinions, never be able to ride the high that comes with caring a lot about one of the most popular fandoms around. We’ll never have memories of this update or that update or what arguments and discourse and fanwork and other stuff spawned from this or that, we missed a lot of cool stuff I’m sad to have missed, and a lot of terrible stuff I’m glad to have missed, but yeah. 

But an episodic reader will never get to be able to read Homestuck from beginning to end with no preconceptions or biases formed from their earlier experience or the hopes and wants and theories they had the first time around, update to update. They’ll never get as clear a picture of the Whole Story. 

It’s a tradeoff. Idk. I’m glad I came in when I did, overall, but I think that most people feel that way about their own experience with it. 

All this to say, I think that the things I and other archival readers are able to connect over the course of the long narrative are less because of any outstanding individual ability in analysis (although I mean, obviously there is some of that or we wouldn’t be meta blogging in the first place) but rather just a simple raw advantage of extra clarity because of our late arrival.